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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/34232-8.txt b/34232-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..8a9b306 --- /dev/null +++ b/34232-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,12140 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of From Kingdom to Colony, by Mary Devereux + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: From Kingdom to Colony + +Author: Mary Devereux + +Illustrator: Henry Sandham + +Release Date: November 7, 2010 [EBook #34232] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FROM KINGDOM TO COLONY *** + + + + +Produced by Al Haines + + + + + + + + + +[Illustration: Cover art] + + + + +[Frontispiece: Dorothy Devereux Southorn with George Washington] + + + + +FROM + +KINGDOM TO COLONY + + +BY + +MARY DEVEREUX + + + + +_ILLUSTRATED BY HENRY SANDHAM_ + + + + +BOSTON + +LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY + +1904 + + + + +_Copyright, 1899,_ + +BY LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY. + + +_All rights reserved._ + + + +PRESSWORK BY + +S. J. PARKHILL & CO., BOSTON, U. S. A. + + + + +TO + +MY FATHER + + + _OF WHOM IT IS INSCRIBED_ + + "EMINENT IN LIFE AND NOBLE IN HEART, LOVING + TO MEN AND LOYAL TO CHRIST, HE WAS A BLESSING + TO THE WORLD AND AN HONOR TO THE CHURCH" + + + + +From Kingdom to Colony + + +PROLOGUE + +When William, Duke of Normandy, invaded England in 1066, and achieved +for himself the title of "Conqueror," one of those who accompanied him +was Robert D'Evreux, younger son of Walter, Earl of Rosmar, feudal +owner and ruler of the town of his name in Normandy. + +After the battle of Hastings, in which William won so great a victory, +he, wishing to honor the memory of the noblemen and knights by whose +aid it had been accomplished, placed their names upon a roll which was +suspended in a stately pile, called "Battle Abbey," erected by him upon +the field of battle. + +In the several exemplifications of "Battle Abbey Roll," as it was +termed, the name of Robert D'Evreux is variously expressed as +"Daveros," "Deverous," "Conte Devreux," and "Counte Devereux." + + +It was the close of an early May day in 1639. Charles I. was reigning +monarch of England, and the Scotch Covenanters were disturbing his +kingdom's peace. + +Against these malcontents Charles had sent his army, and Robert +Devereux, only son of the beheaded favorite of Elizabeth, and now third +Earl of Essex, had been made Lieutenant-General, he having already, by +his resolution and activity no less than by his personal courage, done +good service to the King and won much honor for himself. + +On this May day, in Warwick, far from all scenes of war or rumors from +court, Bromwich Castle, the home of Sir Walter Devereux, +Baronet--cousin and present heir of the King's unmarried +Lieutenant-General--lifted its turrets, about whose clinging ivy the +late afternoon sunshine played golden and warm. + +It was a huge pile, massively irregular in architecture, and its thick +walls bore traces of those times when a Baron of England was a power in +the land,--monarch of his domain, and chief of his own people. + +A rugged old tower was its keep, flanked by four symmetrical turrets, +and crowned by a battlement overlooking the whole country around. +About these clung ivy in a thousand thick wreaths; and here and there, +where it was not, the centuries had woven a fantastic tracery of moss, +green as the ivy itself, and delicate as frost-work. + +What had been the moat was now but a pleasant grassy hollow, carpeted +thickly with golden cowslips and fragrant violets, their growing lipped +by a tiny stream of purest water. + +The castle was surrounded almost to its walls by the forest of ancient +oaks, spreading in all directions, and becoming denser and more wild as +it stretched miles away. And here were the deer, numerous and fat, +that well supplied the larder for Sir Walter's board, or cooled their +sides amid the rankly growing brake and ferns, where naught troubled +the intense silence of the dusky aisles save the whir of the pheasant, +or the foot of the hare, light as the leaf dropping from the green arch +overhead. + +Sir Walter was in the forest this day, and with him were his three +goodly sons, besides several retainers. The notes of the horn had come +faintly to the castle now and again, as they pursued the chase; and up +in her apartments Anne, the seventeen-year-old wife of Sir Walter's +youngest son, sat watching for a first glimpse of the returning +huntsmen. + +Upon her knees lay an open volume, bound in white vellum, and with +clasps of pearl. It was richly illuminated, every page presenting a +picture gorgeous with color, and it was a carefully narrated story of +travel and adventure in that far-away country across the ocean for +which she and her young husband were soon to set sail. + +She paused over one of the illustrations, and gazed at it long and +earnestly, while her agate-gray eyes grew wide, and became filled with +consternation. It was the picture of an Indian chief, in all the +formidable toggery of war dress and paint; and his fierceness of mien +brought to her young heart a hitherto unknown dread and terror. + +The golden of the sun was turning to rose, when a clatter of hoofs and +the sound of men's voices drew her eyes toward the courtyard below. + +Resting her dimpled arms upon the rough stone of the window-ledge, she +leaned over and smiled down into the upturned face of her +twenty-two-year-old husband, whose dark eyes sought her casement ere he +dismounted from his tired horse, which the esquire at its head had now +little need to hold. He waved his hand to her, while a bright smile +illumined his grave face, and she responded by blowing him a kiss from +the tips of her taper fingers. + +The old Baronet, who had been the first to dismount, looked up as well, +and shook his hunting spear at her. + +"Ah, rogue!" he called out. "Wait till I catch thee! With never a +kiss to spare thy old father!" + +Her fresh young laugh rang out gayly as she retorted, "But I have many +an one, if you choose, good sir, as surely you wot right well." + +"'T is a dear child,--a sweet lass, Jack," the old man said to his +youngest son as the two entered the castle side by side. "My heart +misgives me at thought of her going to the far-off heathen country, +amongst savages and wild beasts; for, alack, who can tell what may +befall there?" + +Behind them followed Leicester, Sir Walter's eldest son, and beside him +was young Will,--in his boyhood a page, and now the heir's special +esquire. Walter, the next son, came after them, and then the retainers. + +These latter bore the deer slain that afternoon,--a famous buck, with +great spreading antlers; and the hounds were close by, sniffing about +the carcass with repressed excitement. + +The three sons of Sir Walter Devereux were much alike in coloring and +stature, being tall and stalwart, with broad shoulders, deep chests, +and martial bearing. Their faces were dark, with regular features and +full rounded foreheads, and the narrow, strongly marked eyebrows arched +over unusually large dark eyes. + +But the eyes of these three young men were totally different in +expression. Those of Leicester were apt to glow with over-haughtiness; +for albeit proof was not lacking to show that he had done kind deeds +and was a loyal friend and subject as well as a valiant soldier, he was +feared, rather than liked, by his subordinates. + +Walter's eyes bespoke his true nature,--a rollicking one. Indeed an +enemy of "Wat" Devereux were a hard matter to find. + +But, favorite though he was, his younger brother, John, went far beyond +him in this respect. His was a quiet nature, much given to +contemplation; one that drew the best from all hearts about him. He +had been his mother's idol; and his face was the last her dying eyes +sought three years before, as he sat, pale and silent, by her bedside, +calmly and prayerfully awaiting her end. He it was to whom the old +Baronet always opened his heart, when the elder son's haughty reserve +perplexed or hurt him, or Walter's recklessness brought trouble. + +Up in the dusking turret room, on the cushions by the open casement, +John Devereux now sat, dressed for the evening meal. + +Putting his strong arm about Anne, he drew her head to his shoulder, +and laughed when she showed him the picture that had so affrighted her, +while she confided to him her fears lest some such demon should work +evil upon him in that strange land in which they were about to find a +new home. + +"Nay, sweetheart," he said earnestly, "never would I think to take thee +to such perils. There be few, if any, such Indians in the country +where we shall abide. These writings treat of long-ago days, when +goodly English hearts were few on that shore. 'T is changed now; and +albeit somewhat rougher than here in our father's castle, 't is every +whit as safe. And think, sweetheart," he added proudly, "we shall be +the head of our name in this new land,--the same as our brother +Leicester here, in old England." + +She clung to him silently, while he stroked her soft hair and bent his +handsome head to see her face, now smiling, and looking more reassured. + +"Art thou still fearful, little one?" he asked presently. + +She lifted her face to look into his eyes, and clasped her arms about +his neck. + +"Fearful?" she repeated. "Nay, not I, so long as thou art with me." + +He drew her head against his breast, and a brooding peace fell upon +them, broken only by the cawing of the rooks circling about the tower, +or the melancholy notes of the ringdoves ensconced amid the ivy on the +ancient turrets. + + +Across the broad Atlantic, on the rocky shore of Marblehead, the May +sun had been shining as golden and warm as in old England; and the new +home, although lacking the renown which age and legend had brought to +every stone of Bromwich Castle, was enveloped by the glory that comes +from the love of pure, brave hearts and God-fearing lives. + +Facing the open sea along a portion of the shore of what is now known +as Devereux and Clifton, lay the acres--forest and meadow land--of +which John Devereux was owner. The house--a low, rambling stone +building, of somewhat pretentious size for those days, and fitted with +stout oaken doors and shutters--stood in a small clearing. + +Only a few yards away were the sheds for cattle, placed thus near for +greater protection against thieving Indians, as well as the pilfering +pirates who at rare intervals swept along the coast and descended upon +the unwary settler, in quest of food or booty. + +The virgin forest rose all about, save to the southwest, where the +fields were planted to the extent of several acres; and beyond these +the forest came again, stretching away to the site of the present town +of Marblehead, more than a mile off. + +In front of the house was a small open space where the trees had been +cut away and the undergrowth removed, that a glimpse might be obtained +of the sea; and the land, sloping to the sands, ended in a noble sweep +of beach. + +A mile or more to the south and southwest, by Forest River, dwelt the +Indians, their wigwams not so many as a few years before; for want and +pestilence had sadly weakened the once proud Naumkegs. + +Their chief, the renowned Nanepashemet, was now dead; and the present +ruler, his widow, the "Squaw Sachem," was, like her tribe, too greatly +broken by the vicissitudes of fate to resist the encroachments of the +whites. And her only surviving son, Weenepauweekin, or, as the +settlers called him, "George," was either indifferent, or else too wise +to risk incurring further trouble for his tribe by assuming other than +an amicable attitude toward his white neighbors. + +And thus it was that between the settlers and the Naumkegs all was at +peace. + +The wife of Weenepauweekin, Ahawayet by name, was well known to Anne +Devereux and her husband; and both she and her daughter, a girl of +seventeen, were frequent visitors at the house of the "English Chief," +as John Devereux was called by the Indians. + +In her own gentle, coaxing way, Anne had undertaken to instruct +Ahawayet in the Christian faith, and hoped to impress also the wayward, +wild-eyed daughter, Joane, who would sometimes come from her dignified +playing with the children of the "English Chief" to crouch by her +mother, and listen to these teachings. + +When the news of Sir Walter's death had come across the sea, tears +gathered in Anne's eyes as she raised them to those of her sad-faced +husband. + +"I cannot but think," she said, "on Sir Walter's face, as we saw it +fade away while we stood on the ship's deck that morn, with the tears +streaming down his cheeks like I never saw them come from a man's eyes +before." + +"Aye," her husband added, "he was a dear, good father, and a friend as +well. God grant that we and them that come after us do naught to bring +reproach or sorrow to the name he hath worn, as have so many before +him, with pride, and right good dignity." + +The sun was sinking fast, and the odor of the forest growths was +beginning to mingle with the tang of the sea. + +The voices of men and women busy about the cattle and milking were +making a cheerful sound of life and bustle from the sheds and +outhouses; and on the low-roofed porch in front of the house door, +overhung with drooping vines, John Devereux's three sons, Humphrey, +John, and Robert, were busy at play. + +But they were not too busy to pause now and then to send searching +glances into the forest in quest of their father, whom they all united +in adoring as the wisest and greatest of created beings. + +Humphrey, the eldest, was looking forward proudly to his ninth +birthday, now almost at hand, when he was to have the promise fulfilled +of being permitted to go along with his father to hunt in the forest, +or out on the sea, to fish. + +Near them sat their mother, stouter and more matronly than the slender +Anne of ten years ago. The aforetime dainty hands were not guiltless +of toil stains, and the dark hair was now gathered beneath a snowy +mobcap, with only here and there a short, wayward curl stealing out to +trail across her brow or touch her pretty ears. + +A sudden shout from the boys announced their father's appearance, as he +came out of the woods and across the clearing, and with him Noah, the +darkey servant, well loaded with game. + +"Thou hast had a most successful hunt!" exclaimed Anne, smiling a +bright welcome into her husband's fond eyes, while the children's small +hands clung to him, and tiny brown fingers were poked into the mouths +of dead rabbits, or tweaked their whiskers to see if they were really +dead, or tried to pull open the beaks and eyes of slain birds. + +"Aye," was his laughing reply, as he gently freed himself from the +little clinging hands; "and I have found more in the forest than game +alone, in that I have a most ferocious appetite,--one I trust thou wilt +have a plenty to satisfy." + +"Give the game to David," said Anne, as a younger and smaller edition +of Noah approached, "and come thou within and see, for the supper hath +been ready this half hour." + +An hour later the children were all safely in Nodland, and husband and +wife were sitting either side the fireplace, where the burning wood was +pleasant to feel, for a chill had crept into the air. But the outer +door was open, and through it came the hoarse notes of the frogs down +in the swampy lands, mingled with the roar of the surf along the +near-by shore. + +They sat in silence, each content with the other's nearness, as they +watched the leaping flames, which made the only light in the room. And +this was reflected in a thousand scintillating sparks from the brass +fire-dogs that upheld the logs, and in the handles of the shovels and +tongs, scrubbed and polished with all the power of arm possessed by +Shubar, the Indian wife of old Noah. + +Suddenly a lithe, girlish form slipped through the half-open door, +coming with a tread as noiseless as the leaping shadows about the far +corners of the room, and Joane, the Squaw Sachem's granddaughter, +glided to the hearth and stood between John Devereux and his wife. + +So accustomed were they to such things that neither of them was +startled, but kindly bade her welcome. + +Crouching on the hearth, she turned her dusky face and glittering eyes +toward John Devereux, and said quietly and in a low voice, "Strange +boat--big boat in harbor, English Chief." + +He looked troubled, and Anne glanced at him apprehensively, while Joane +continued, now speaking more rapidly, "Gran'mudder sent me tell better +keep door shut--better get gun." + +"Thou dost mean that the Squaw Sachem sent thee to tell there be +danger?" John Devereux asked, half rising from his chair, and looking +toward the door. "She thinks they mean evil?" + +"Don't know how answer. English Chief talk too fast--ask too many +questions all same time. Go slow--then Joane hear right--tell him +right." And she smiled up into his face while she touched the slender +forefinger of her left hand with the fingers of the right, as if +waiting to enumerate his questions. + +"Thy grandmother sent thee?" + +The girl nodded, and touched a second finger. + +"She thinks the men on the ship may do us harm?" + +"Say don't like looks--got bad black faces," replied Joane, scowling as +though to illustrate her meaning. + +"Have any of them come ashore yet?" he asked anxiously. + +"Yes--so many," holding up seven brown fingers, "come 'shore. Get +water to drink--then go back to ship when sun shines. But no go 'way +yet--no mean to go. Tell gran'mudder want somethin' eat. Take our +corn, and pay no money." + +"Pirates!" John Devereux exclaimed, now starting to his feet, while he +looked at his wife, whose face paled. + +He hurried across the room, bolted and barred the stout door, and +examined the window fastenings, the Indian girl still crouching by the +hearth and watching him placidly, as if a pirate raid were a matter of +small moment. + +But her sparkling eyes, and the heaving bosom agitating the many bead +necklaces hanging from throat to waist, betrayed her. + +"See thou to the children, sweetheart, and warn the maids," John +Devereux said to his wife, as he took down his gun and examined it +carefully, "while I go to the men and see that the cattle be safe, and +the back of the house made secure." + +"Good!" exclaimed Joane, with quick approval. "English Chief no +sleep--heap good. Give Joane gun, too." + +"Had thou not best return to the wigwam, Joane, and to the Squaw +Sachem?" inquired Anne, pausing as she was about to leave the room. + +"What go for?" the girl demanded, while her eyes flashed with fierce +intensity. "No good go--can fight here--fight good, too. Joane stay +and fight by English Chief and his 'Singing Bird,'"--this being the +name given by the Naumkegs to Anne, on account of her musical voice. + +Knowing that nothing would turn Joane when once her ideas were fixed, +and knowing too that her skill with the bow and gun was equal to that +of any warrior, Anne was silent,--grateful indeed for any addition to +the slender force at hand for defence. + +There were in all but nine men, servants and laborers,--two of them +white, and the others either Africans or Indians; but they were all, +saving old Noah, young, stalwart, and fearless. + +John Devereux posted these men in the outbuildings and sheds, as cattle +were generally the spoil sought by the marauders when they visited the +coast. And when assigning them their positions, he warned them, should +they find themselves in danger of being overpowered, to give a signal +and retreat to the house, where a side-door would be opened for their +entrance. Then, having left with them a plentiful supply of +ammunition, he went within to mount guard over his wife and babies. + +He had five guns wherewith to arm his household, without counting his +own piece, and every woman in his service was acquainted with their +use. Even Anne herself had, under his own tuition, become no mean +markswoman. + +Within doors he found the women greatly excited, and fluttering about +aimlessly; but a few quiet words soon brought order amongst them, and +with it a return of their courage. Then, having accomplished this, he +went once more through the house, from the rooms downstairs to the +low-ceilinged sleeping apartments above, and satisfied himself that all +was secure. + +In the nursery he found his wife looking at the little boys, who were +lying on two great bags of ticking, stuffed with the feathers of wild +geese, and placed on the floor, in lieu of bedsteads. + +They were sleeping soundly, oblivious of the alarm about the house; and +standing beside his wife, his arm around her waist, John Devereux +looked down at them. + +On one of the pallets lay Humphrey, his strong young arms outstretched, +and his chest--broad for his years, and finely developed---showing +white as alabaster where the simple linen garment was rarely buttoned +by his impatient fingers. + +On the other were the two younger boys; and Robert, the gentlest of the +three, with his father's own winsome nature, lay with his head half +pillowed against his brother John's shoulder. + +"What a blessed thing is childhood, and ignorance of danger!" murmured +Anne, looking at her husband. + +"Aye," he said softly, as they turned away. "So may we know no fear of +dangers that threaten, sweet wife, while we trust to Him who watcheth +us,--who 'slumbers not, nor sleeps.'" + +And as she had answered him ten years before, so she said to him now, +"So long as we be together, I have no fear." + +A long and shrill sound now broke the silence. It was the blowing of +the conch shell suspended in front of the outer door; and it announced +a visitor seeking admission. + +Surprised at this, and alarmed as well, husband and wife hurried to the +front room below stairs, where they found Joane still crouched upon the +hearth. Her bow, now unslung, lay close at hand, and she was examining +with pleased curiosity the clumsy blunderbuss resting across her +knees,--one that John, at her earnest request, had intrusted to her. + +"No enemy--make heap too much noise," was her sententious remark, as +she looked up from her inspection of the weapon. + +"Mayhap they but do that to disarm us," John replied, as he went +cautiously toward the door. + +He knew there was no way, except from the beach, for any one to +approach the house unseen by his faithful outposts. And he had +reckoned upon no attack coming from that quarter, as there was no +sailing breeze. Then, again, the pirates would be more likely to come +from the direction of the forest, hoping to effect a greater surprise +than if they came from the water. + +The wailing cry of the conch shell pierced the air for the second time, +to echo again in falling cadences that died away in the woods and over +the sea. + +Placing his lips to the loophole near the door, John Devereux now +demanded to know who was outside. + +A nasal, whining voice replied; and although the words were +indistinguishable, their sound caused the Indian girl to laugh +scornfully. + +She said nothing, however, but springing quickly to her feet, sped to +the small opening. Then, before her purpose could be understood, she +thrust the muzzle of the blunderbuss through the aperture. + +"Hold, Joane!" commanded John, as he caught her arm. "What is't thou +wouldst do,--kill, perchance, an innocent man? Put the gun down, +child, until I challenge again, and know for a surety who it be. +Methinks the voice hath a familiar sound." + +Joane obeyed him, still smiling maliciously as she said: "Only want +give him heap big scare. Him big 'fraid--him coward." + +"'T is Parson Legg!" exclaimed Anne, now recalling the piping voice, +and enlightened by Joane's contemptuous words. + +Her husband opened the door, and a slim, weazen-faced, bandy-legged +little man stepped hastily within, his eyes, small and keen as those of +a ferret, blinking from the sudden passing out of darkness into light. + +"Good e'en to thee, Parson Legg; thou art late abroad," said Anne, +coming forward. She did not smile, nor was there aught of welcome in +her voice or manner. + +But this lack of cordiality was not felt by the unexpected visitor, for +he doffed his steeple-crowned hat, which, like the rest of his apparel, +was much the worse for wear, and responded briskly, "Good e'en, +Mistress Anne, an' the same to you, neighbor John; I hope the Lord's +blessin' is upon all within this abode. Ah, who have ye here?" and he +peered down at Joane, who had resumed her place before the fire, her +back turned squarely toward Parson Legg as he stood in the centre of +the room. + +He came closer to her, but for all the notice she vouchsafed of his +words or presence she might have been one of the brass fire-dogs +upholding the blazing logs. + +"'T is the Squaw Sachem's granddaughter, Joane," replied John Devereux, +turning from the door, which he had refastened. + +"Aye, so it be," said the little man; "one o' the unregenerate heathen, +upon whom, if they turn not from their idolatrous ways, shall descend +smitings sore from the Lord. Hip an' thigh shall they be smitten, and +their places shall know them no more." + +"Joane hath no idols, good sir, that I know on," said his host, as he +came forward and offered the visitor a seat, and then took one himself +by the door. "She seemeth ever ready to heed the words of my good +wife, and our babes could not have a more gentle playfellow." + +Anne had seated herself near Joane, by the fire; and she looked with no +very friendly eyes at the Parson, as she said, "Think you not, good +sir, it were better to chide the 'unregenerate heathen,' as you call +them, with more gentleness?" + +His little eyes narrowed into yet meaner lines as he fixed them upon +her face. Then leaning forward to lay a finger upon the gun that again +lay across Joane's knees, he answered, "It would seem but poor excuse +to prate o' gentleness to one who at unseemly hours and seasons goeth +about with death-dealin' weapons, seekin' whom she may devour." + +The Indian girl still sat immovable; a statue could not have appeared +more bereft of hearing or speech. But to Anne's face there came a look +of fine scorn, which softened however into almost a smile as she +glanced at her husband. + +"Joane came to warn us of danger," John said quietly. "She tells us +there is a strange ship in harbor, and we be now armed to guard against +pirates,--for such they promise to be." + +Parson Legg sprang to his feet as though stung by a passing insect. + +"Pirates!" he repeated, in a shrill cry of alarm. "Pirates,--say ye +so? I heard naught o' such matter. I was in the woods hereabout all +the afternoon, readin' the psalmody, an' makin' joyful melody unto the +Lord, till darkness o'ertook me, an' I bethought myself to make my way +to this abode, neighbor John, as peradventure thou an' Mistress Anne, +thy wife, would give me food an' shelter in the Lord's name till +mornin'." + +Parson Legg was only an itinerant preacher, having long striven, but +without avail, to be accepted by the colonists as successor to their +late beloved pastor, the Reverend Hugh Peters, who had gone to England +some years before to act as their agent, and was likely to remain there +for some time to come, being now a chaplain in the army of Cromwell. + +But Legg was entirely unfitted, both by birth and education, for the +position to which he aspired. He was selfish and irritable, with a +grasping, worldly nature, despite his outward show of humility and +sanctity, and was regarded by the colonists with suspicion and illy +concealed dislike, while the Indians held him in positive hatred. + +Since the summer day, two years before, when he had come upon Joane in +the forest, attired in the manly habiliments of her tribe,--this being +only for greater convenience while hunting--and had hurled at her young +head anathemas such as fairly smelled of brimstone, it had been open +war between the two; and the very sight of one to the other was like +that of a plump kitten to a lively terrier. + +Anne had by this time set forth a meal upon the table, and +notwithstanding his recent fright, Parson Legg's little eyes glistened +voraciously as he drew up his chair, while he smacked his thin lips +more as would a sturdy yeoman, than like a meek and lowly follower of +the creed which crucifies the flesh and its appetites. + +John still kept his seat by the door, his keen ears listening intently +for any unusual sound without, while Parson Legg crunched away at the +venison and corn bread,--doing this with more gusto than was pleasant +for either eye or ear. + +Anne had left the room, motioning to Joane to follow her, and an +intense silence seemed to lie about the house, save as it was broken by +the sputtering of the fire upon the hearth and the sound of Parson +Legg's gastronomic vocalism, and now and then the subdued murmur of +women's voices from one of the rooms in the rear. + +A sudden roar of firearms, followed by wild yells and cries without, +shattered the peaceful brooding of the place, and caused Parson Legg to +spring wildly from his chair. + +"The heathen are upon us!" he gasped, his articulation being somewhat +impeded by the presence of a huge piece of venison in his mouth. "The +heathen are come upon us with riotin' an' slaughter! John--John +Devereux, hide me, I beseech thee,--hide me from their vengeance. I am +a man o' peace, an' the sight o' bloodshed is somethin' I could ne'er +abide." + +John paid no attention to the terrified little man, but springing up +with an impetuosity that sent his chair flying across the room, stood +erect and scowling, his face turned toward the sounds of strife, and +his strong fingers gripping his gun. + +"Anne--wife--where art thou?" he cried, as the din increased, and more +shots were fired. + +"Here." And she quietly entered the room, her face pale, but perfectly +calm. "The noise hath awakened the little boys, but I have left Shubar +with them, and promised to return shortly." + +"Where is Joane?" her husband asked quickly. + +"With Shubar and the boys." + +"Good; for then there be one gun near, to assure the little ones." + +He had been nervously fingering the hammer of his own piece, and while +speaking he crossed the room and took a position near that side of the +house from whence came the sound of firearms. + +Anne remained by the hearth, watching him closely, her tightly clenched +hands being all that told of the agitation within. + +"Are the little ones much affrighted?" he asked. + +"No," she said, still in her calm, sweet fashion; "they do not seem to +be--that is, not much. Humphrey begged that he might have a gun, and +Robert sat quiet, looking at me with eyes so like your own as he asked, +'Art fearful, mother? Father will ne'er let them hurt us.'" + +John Devereux smiled proudly, for the moment forgetting the din about +them. + +"And John," he asked,--"what said our second son?" + +"He seemeth most affrighted of all," she replied. "He wept at first, +and hid his face in my gown; but he was calm when I came away. Thou +knowest, John, that the lad hath not been well since the fever, last +fall." + +"Aye, true,--poor little Jack!" the father said. And he now wondered +what might have happened outside, for there was a ceasing of the uproar. + +He listened intently a moment. "Methinks, sweetheart, I'd best go +outside and see what this silence doth mean. Thou'lt not be fearful if +I leave the house awhile?" + +She grew still paler, but only shook her head. Then she asked +suddenly, "Where be Parson Legg?" + +Husband and wife looked about the room, and then at one another. + +"He was here when the firing began," said John, finding it difficult +not to smile as he recalled the scene. + +"But wherever can he have gone?" persisted Anne. + +"Hiding somewhere, I warrant me," was her husband's reply. "He is an +arrant--" + +His words were drowned by the roar of a blunderbuss, coming apparently +from just over their heads, and this was followed a moment later by a +wild yell of triumph from outside. + +It was from John's men, and he started to open the door. But before he +could do this there arose such a clamor in the nursery above that he +and Anne, forgetful of all else, sped up the stairway. + +Old Shubar's voice came to them raised in shrill cries, echoed by those +of the boys,--only that Humphrey and Robert seemed to speak more from +indignation than fright. + +Wondering what it could all mean, they hurried into the room, where an +absurd sight met their alarmed eyes. + +In one corner, beside Humphrey's pallet, stood Shubar, still uttering +the wild shrieks they had heard, and huddling about her were the three +boys,--John clinging to her gown, while Humphrey and Robert, both +facing about, were shouting at a strange figure that burrowed +frantically into the pallet occupying the opposite corner of the +chamber. + +"Shubar says 't is a witch," cried Robert. "Take thy gun and slay her +before she bring evil upon us." + +"Be quiet, my son," said his father, scarcely able to repress his +laughter, for at the sound of his voice Parson Legg's weazened face, +all blanched by fear, was lifted from out the pillows, and a pair of +terror-stricken eyes peered over his shoulder. + +He had been lying face downward, partially covered by the bedclothes, +under which he was still trying to conceal himself; and his +steeple-crowned hat, now a shapeless wreck, was pulled down over his +ears, as if to shut out more effectually the sounds of strife that had +well-nigh bereft him of reason. + +"It would seem thou canst preach far better, Parson Legg, than defend +thyself from the enemy," John Devereux said rather grimly, looking down +with unconcealed contempt upon the little coward, while Anne busied +herself in reassuring the children and quieting Shubar's angry +mutterings. + +"Even so, neighbor John, even so," answered the Parson, in no wise +disconcerted at the sarcasm of the other's words and tone, and making +no movement to emerge from his retreat. "As I told thee below, I am a +man o' peace, an' I like not the sound o' war an' the sight o' +bloodshed. But what doth this silence portend?--are the enemy +routed,--are they vanquished, an' put down, smitten hip an' thigh, an' +put to flight by thy brave followers?" + +His anxious queries met with no reply, for John Devereux, who was +standing upon the threshold of the room, had become conscious of a +sharp current of air blowing upon his cheek. It told him that the +scuttle was open overhead, and turning about, he darted swiftly up the +ladder. + +He was soon upon the roof, and here he stood a few moments and looked +keenly about. + +The voices of his men came to him from the ground below. They had left +their concealment, and the lightness of their tones told him that all +danger was past. + +As his eyes became more accustomed to the gloom, the dim starlight +revealed to him the outlines of a form crouching behind the great +chimney not far away. + +"Joane!" he called softly, suspecting who it might be. + +She arose and came to him, and he heard her laughing to herself. + +"What camest thou up here for?" he demanded, speaking quite sharply. + +"Joane shoot pirate captain," she answered, still laughing. "Heap +scare 'em--no know where shot come from--all run away to ship." + +And so it proved. The marauders, having received a very different +reception from the one they had expected, were utterly discomfited when +an unseen enemy--in the person of Joane and her blunderbuss--scattered +a mighty charge of slugs and bullets in their midst. Their leader was +struck in the arm, and fearing they had fallen into an ambuscade from +which it would be difficult to escape, he shouted to his men that he +was wounded, and bade them fly to the ship. + +This was the last of the raids that had so annoyed the colonists, and +thenceforth they were free from such molestation. + +John Devereux's days passed on, full of peace and pleasantness, until +he died at a ripe old age, respected and loved by all his +fellow-townsmen, and mourned deeply by the faithful wife who did not +long survive him. + +The boys lived to man's estate, were married, and had children of their +own. But Humphrey and John died in their father's lifetime; and so it +was that Robert, the second son, became the heir. + + + + +CHAPTER I + +Marblehead, and July, in the year of our Lord 1774. + +In the harbor (now known as Great Bay) the water lay, a smooth, +glistening floor of amethystine hue, shut in protectively by the +"Neck," thrust out like a strong arm between it and the rougher sea +beyond, stretching, purple and endless, to the rim of the cloudless +horizon. + +To the north and northwest lay the islands, the nearer ones sharply +outlined in trees and verdure, but showing here and there a grayness of +beach or boulder, like the bald spot among some good man's otherwise +plentiful locks. + +Looking eastward, Cat Island was closest of all to the mainland, the +charred ruins upon it showing sharply in the brilliant afternoon +sunshine; and here, amid the desolation, a few of the blackened timbers +still remained upright, like arms lifted in protest against the +vengeance visited upon the hospital a short time before by the +well-meant zeal of the infuriated townsfolk. + +In August of the previous year, during an epidemic of smallpox, a +meeting was called in the townhouse, and Elbridge Gerry, John Glover, +Azor Orne, and Jonathan Glover petitioned that a hospital be built on +Cat Island, for the treatment of smallpox patients, or else that the +town permit certain individuals to do this at their own expense. + +The town refused to build the hospital, but gave permission to the +individuals to construct one, provided the adjoining town of Salem gave +its consent; it being also stipulated that the hospital should be so +regulated as to shield the inhabitants of Marblehead from any "danger +of infection" therefrom. + +The necessary approval having been obtained from Salem, preparations +were made in September for erecting the hospital. + +By this time some of the people of Marblehead had become impressed with +the fear that by the establishing of the hospital the dread disease +would become a prevailing pest amongst them. Their terror made them +unreasonable, and they now fiercely opposed the scheme to which they +had once given their consent, and demanded that the work be abandoned; +but the proprietors, filled with indignation at what they considered +rank injustice, persisted in carrying out their worthy project to +completion. + +In October the hospital was finished, and placed in charge of an +eminent physician from Portsmouth, who had attained a wide reputation +for his success in the treatment of smallpox. Several hundred patients +came under his care, with gratifying results. But a few had died, and +this fact brought about bitter and active hostility from the +malcontents. They demanded that the place be abandoned at once; and +threats of violence began to be made. + +The feeling gained in strength and intensity, until at length the +proprietors gave up the contest. And then, to assure themselves that +the hospital should not be reopened, a party of the townspeople, +closely disguised, crossed to Cat Island one night in the following +January, and left the buildings in flames. + +But now these summer weeks found the town excited and tumultuous over +still graver matters. The British government had found it +impracticable to enforce the duty upon tea, and resorting to +subterfuge, adopted a compromise whereby the East India Company, +hitherto the greatest losers by the diminution of its exports from +Great Britain, was authorized to send its goods to all places free of +duty. + +Although the tea would now become cheaper for the colonists, they were +not deceived by this new ministerial plan. And when the news was +received that the East India Company had freighted ships with tea +consigned to its colonial agents, meetings were held to devise measures +to prevent the sale or unloading of the tea within the province. + +The agents, when waited upon by the committee chosen for that purpose +in Boston, refused flatly to promise that the tea should not be +unloaded or sold by them; and they were forthwith publicly stigmatized +as enemies to their country, and resolutions were adopted providing +that they, and all such, should be dealt with accordingly. + +In December, 1773, the historical "Tea Party" took place in Boston +harbor; and in the following spring Governor Hutchinson resigned, and +General Thomas Gage was appointed in his stead. + +Bill after bill was passed in Parliament and sanctioned by the King, +having in view but the single object of bringing the people of +Massachusetts to terms. The quartering of English troops in Boston was +made legal. Town meetings were prohibited except by special permission +from the Governor. And finally the infamous "Port Bill" was passed, +which removed the seat of government to Salem, and closed the port of +Boston to commerce. + +In July subscriptions were being solicited by order of the town of +Marblehead for the relief of the poor of Boston, who were suffering +from the operation of the "Port Bill," and all the buildings which +could be utilized, even to the town-house, were placed at the disposal +of the merchants, for the storage of their goods. + +In defiance of Parliament, whose act had practically suppressed all +town meetings, the people of Marblehead continued to assemble and +express their views, and discuss the grave questions then agitating the +entire country. The very air of the sea seemed to murmur of war and +the rumors of war; and the hearts of thinking men and women were heavy +with forebodings of the struggle they felt to be imminent. + +But the little town was lying brooding and peaceful this July +afternoon. Its wooded hills to the west sent shadows across the grassy +meadows and slopes, rising and falling to meet the sand-beaches, or +ending in the headlands of granite that made sightly outlooks from +which to scan the sea for threatening ships. + +Under the pines that made shadows along the way, a horseman was going +leisurely along the road leading to the Fountain Inn. + +To his left lay level meadow lands, rising into hills as they neared +the inn, the old Burial Hill--the town's God's Acre--being highest of +all. To his right, the green fields and marshes stretched unbroken to +the sea, save for here and there a clump of bushes and tangled vines, +or a thicket of wild roses. The road before him ended in two branches, +one leading to the rising ground on the right, where stood the Fountain +Inn, while to the left it terminated in a sandy beach, before which +stretched the peaceful waters of Little Harbor, now whitened with the +sails of East Indian commerce, and the craft belonging to the fishing +fleets that plied their yearly trade to the "Banks" and to Boston. + +No large ship could come nigh the shore in Little Harbor; whereas in +the deep bay lying between the Neck and the town, the enemy's vessels +might anchor by the land itself. And here the townsfolk kept a most +active lookout, which left the hills and beaches of Little Harbor +almost deserted. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +The bridle was lying slack upon the neck of the horse, who picked his +way carefully along the road, his hoofs now clicking over the stony +highway, now falling noiselessly upon the brown pine needles. And the +occasional clatter of his shoes, or the busy chatter of a squirrel high +up in a tree, were the only sounds to interrupt the musings of the +stalwart rider, whose head was bowed, and whose eyes strayed moodily +about. + +He was dark and tall, well knit, and of powerful build, yet lithe and +graceful. The wandering breeze whipped out stray curling locks about +his ears and temples from the mass of dark hair done up in a queue. +The broad-brimmed riding-hat was pulled well down over his strongly +marked brows, and the smooth-shaven face betrayed the compressed lips +of the large but finely formed mouth. + +A flash of something white speeding across the road a few yards in +front of him caused the dark eyes to open wide, and brought his musings +to a sudden end. + +Across the marshes to the left he caught a glimpse of twinkling feet, +encased in low steel-buckled shoes that seemed to be bearing away from +him a fleeting cloud of white drapery. + +It was a female, with her so-called "cut" (a dress-skirt so narrow and +straight as to make rapid movement very difficult) thrown up over her +head and shoulders, as she went over the grass toward the beach at the +side of the road facing the Neck. + +Recognizing her at once, the horseman called out, "Dorothy!" and +spurred his horse out of the road and across the marsh. + +As though hearing him, she paused, and without lowering the "cut," +turned to look over her shoulder. + +The wind, catching her dress, blew the white folds aside, showing a +roguish face, and one bearing a strong family resemblance to the man in +pursuit. But her features were small and delicate, while his, although +not lacking in refinement, were far bolder in strength of outline. + +She had the same dark eyes, set far apart under delicate but firmly +marked brows,--the same swart curling lashes, and riotous locks. + +But here the likeness ceased; for while his face was grave, and full of +a set purpose and resolution, hers was almost babyish, and full of +witchery, with a peachy bloom coming and going in the rounded cheeks. + +She was panting a little from her running, and now stood, waiting for +him to speak, her red lips parted in a mocking smile that showed two +rows of little teeth, white as the meat of a hazel-nut. + +"What mischief have you been up to, you little rogue, and why are you +running away from me?" he asked. He spoke with quiet good nature, but +looked down at her with an elder brother's reproof showing in his face. + +She did not answer, but only glanced up at him from the sheltering +folds of the skirt, billowing about her face like a cloud, while the +horse, recognizing a loved playmate, whinnied, and bowed his head to +her shoulder as if mutely begging a caress. + +"You have been to see Moll Pitcher again," the young man asserted; "and +you know our father would be angry that you should do it. And 't is +very wrong, Dorothy, in these times, that you should be over in this +part of the town alone." + +Her brother called her so rarely by her full name that a change from +the caressing "Dot" to the solemn-sounding "Dorothy" was a sure mark of +his displeasure. + +The smile died from her face, and her eyes fell. But she looked +mutinous, as she raised a small hand to stroke the horse's nose. + +"I did not come alone, Jack," she explained. "Leet rowed me over, and +Pashar came with us; and I had little 'Bitha, too." + +"An old darkey, who sits dozing in the boat, half a mile away from you, +with his twelve-year-old grandson, and little Tabitha! These make a +fine protection, truly, had you met with soldiers or other troublesome +people," he said with some sarcasm. "Do you not know there was a new +vessel, filled with British soldiers, went into Salem harbor +yesterday--and belike they are roaming about the country to-day?" He +switched his riding-boot as he spoke, scowling as though the mention of +the matter had awakened vengeful thoughts. + +"Hugh Knollys has but just ridden over from Salem; and he said they +were all housed there, along with the Governor," the girl said eagerly, +glad to find something to say in her defence, as well as to turn the +current of her brother's thoughts. + +"Hugh Knollys!" he repeated. "Has he been at our house this day?" + +"No-o," she answered hesitatingly. "We met him just now as we came out +of Moll's. He is at the Fountain Inn." + +"We," he said, a smile showing about the corners of his lips. "Are you +His Gracious Majesty, Dot, that you speak of yourself as 'We'?" + +At the sound of her baby name, all the brightness returned to her face, +and glancing up at him, she whispered mischievously, "Look in the +thicket behind you." + +He turned to send a keen glance into the clump of bushes and vines +growing some dozen yards closer to the road he had just left; and there +he caught a glimpse of pale blue--like female raiment--showing amid the +foliage. + +Wheeling his horse quickly, he rode toward it; and what he now saw was +a tall, blonde girl of eighteen or thereabouts, who arose slowly from +where she had been hiding, and came forward with a dignity that savored +of defiance, although there seemed to be a smile lurking in the corners +of her mouth. + +Her gypsy hat hung by its blue ribbons on one white rounded arm, bared +to the elbow, as the fashion of her sleeve left it. The neck of her +pale blue gown was low cut; but a small cape of the same material was +over it,--crossed, fichu-wise, on her bosom, and then carried under the +arms, to be knotted at the back. + +Her round white throat rose out of the sheer blue drapery in fine, +strong lines, to support a regal head, crowned with a glory of pale +brown hair, now bared to the sun, and glinting as though golden +sparkles were caught in its silky meshes. + +As she approached, the rider held up his horse, and sat motionless, +staring at her, while a merry peal of laughter, silvery as chiming +bells, broke from sixteen-year-old Dorothy. + +"Mary Broughton!" the young man exclaimed at length, as he looked +wonderingly at the fair-haired girl. + +She paused a yard away and swept him a mocking courtesy as she +said,--and her musical voice was of the quality we are told is "good in +woman,"--"Aye; at your service, Master John Devereux." + +"Then you have been with our madcap here?" he asked, now finding his +tongue more readily. + +"All the afternoon--an it please you, sir," she replied in the same +tone of playful irony. + +"It does please me," he said, now with a smile, "for it was much better +than had Dot been alone, as I supposed at first. But think you it is +safe for you two girls to come wandering over here by yourselves?" And +in the look of his dark eyes, in the very tone of his voice, there was +something different,--more caressing than had been found even for his +small sister, who had now drawn close to them. + +Mary Broughton slipped her arm through Dorothy's, and the mockery left +her face. + +"I suppose not," she answered frankly. "But, to tell the truth, I had +not thought of such a thing until you mentioned it. We've not met a +soul, save Hugh Knollys, who was riding into the inn yard as we came +from Moll Pitcher's." + +"And so you have been to consult Moll's oracle?" the young man said +banteringly. + +The white lids fell over the honest blue eyes that had been looking +straight up into his own. The girl seemed greatly embarrassed, and her +color deepened, while Dorothy only giggled, and slyly pinched the arm +upon which her slender fingers were resting. + +Mary gave her a quick glance of reproof. Then she raised her eyes and +said hesitatingly, "We heard she was down from Lynn, on a visit to her +father." + +"You girls are bewitched with Moll Pitcher and her prophecies," he +exclaimed with a laugh. + +"Ah--but she tells such wonderful things," began Dorothy, impetuously. +But Mary Broughton laid a small white hand over the red lips and +glanced warningly at her companion. + +"What did she tell?" the young man asked. But now Dorothy only smiled, +and shook her head. + +"Come, Dorothy," Mary said, "we had best get back to the boat." And +she turned to go; but the younger girl hung back. + +"Are you going to a meeting at the inn, Jack?" she inquired, looking at +her brother. + +"Little girls must not ask questions," he answered, yet smiling at her +lovingly. "But do you hasten to the boat, and get home, Dot, you and +Mary. It troubles me that you should be about here. Hurry home, +now,--there's a good little girl." But he looked at both of them as he +spoke. + +"Shall you be home by evening?" his sister asked, keeping her face +toward him as she backed away, obliged to move in the direction of the +beach; for Mary, still holding her arm, was walking along. + +He nodded and smiled; then riding back to the highway, wheeled his +horse and stopped to watch the two figures making their hurried way +across the marsh. But his eyes rested longest upon one of them, tall +and regal, her blonde head showing golden in the waning light, the +vivid green of the marshes and the deep purple of the sea making a +defining background for the beauty of the woman to whom John Devereux +had given his lifelong love. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +"Oh, Mary, there is Johnnie Strings!" exclaimed Dorothy, as they drew +near shore, where lay the rowboat, beached on the sand, with Leet, the +faithful old darkey, sitting close by, awaiting the pleasure of his +adored young mistress. + +Near him a little girl of seven was gathering pebbles, her heavy blonde +braids touching the tawny sand whenever she stooped in her search. And +crouched by his grandfather Leet was the boy Pashar, looking like an +animated inkspot upon the brightness all about. His white eyeballs and +teeth showed sharply by contrast with their onyx-like settings, as he +sat with his thick lips agape, literally drinking in the words of the +redoubtable Johnnie Strings, a wiry, sharp-faced little man, whose +garments resembled the dry, faded tints of the autumn woods. + +Johnnie, with his pedler's pack, stored with a seemingly unlimited +variety of wares, was a well-known and welcome visitor to every +housewife in town. He lived when at home (which was rarely) in a +hut-like abode up among the rocks of Skinner's Head; and the highway +between Boston and Gloucester was tramped by him many times during the +year. + +He owned a raw-boned nag of milk-white hue, and rejoicing in the name +of Lavinia Amelia; and these two, with a yellow cur, constituted the +entire _ménage_ of the Strings household. + +Johnnie, like Topsy, must have "just growed," for aught anyone ever +knew of a parent Strings. The one item of information possessed by his +acquaintances was that his name was not Johnnie Strings at all, but +"Stand-fast-on-high Stringer,"--an indication that he must have +received his baptism at Puritanical hands. + +Either "Stand-fast-on-high" became more unregenerate as his infancy was +left behind, or else his associates had no great taste for Biblical +terms as applied to every-day use; for his real name had long since +become vulgarized to the common earthiness of "Johnnie," and "Stringer" +had been reduced to "Strings." + +He now sat upon his pack--a smaller one than he usually carried--and +was saying to Leet, "Now that there be so cantankerous a lot o' them +pesky King's soldiers 'bout us, there's no sayin' what day or night +they won't overrun the hull country, from the Governor's house at +Salem, clean over here to the sea; an' every man will be wise, that +owns cattle, to sleep with one eye an' ear open, an' a gun within +reach." + +"What are you saying, Johnnie Strings?" called out Dorothy, as she and +Mary came up. "Are you trying to frighten old Leet into fits?" + +The little pedler sprang to his feet and snatched off his battered +wreck of a hat, showing a scant lot of carroty hair, gathered tightly +into a rusty black ribbon at the nape of his weather-beaten neck. + +"Only sayin' God's truth, sweet mistress," he answered, bowing and +scraping with elaborate politeness. "I've just come from over Salem +way; an' yesterday evenin' ye could scarcely see the ground for the red +spots that covered it. There were three ship-loads came in yesterday, +to add to the ungodly lot o' soldiers already there." + +Mary looked troubled, but Dorothy only laughed. And little 'Bitha, +abandoning her search for shells and pebbles, pressed closely against +her cousin, looking up out of a pair of frightened eyes, blue as +forget-me-nots, as she asked, "Does Johnnie say the soldiers are coming +after us, Dot?" + +Dorothy checked herself in what she was about to say, and bent to +reassure the little one, putting an arm about her neck to draw the +golden head still closer to her. + +"What are they come down from Boston for, Johnnie?" Mary asked; "do you +know?" + +He cocked his head aslant, and resumed his hat, screwing up one eye in +a fashion most impudent in any man but himself, as he looked at her +with a cunning leer. Then he said: "There's no harm to come from 'em +yet. But soldiers be a lawless lot, if they get turned loose to look +after we folk 'bout the coast here, as is like to be the case now. An' +so I was just meanin' to hint to ye that 'twould be as well to stop +nigher home, after this day." + +Old Leet, who had listened with a stolid face to all this, was now +pushing the boat into the water, while Pashar stood gaping at the +pedler, until ordered gruffly by his grandsire to stand ready to hold +the craft. + +"Have you knowledge that they are coming down here?" inquired Mary, +speaking more insistently than before. + +"We-l-l, yes, I have," he admitted with a drawl, and was about to add +something more, when Dorothy, who had deposited 'Bitha in the boat, and +was now getting in to take her own place in the stern, said to him, +"Come with us, Johnnie, and we'll take you home, as we pass quite close +to your"--hesitating a second--"your house." + +"No, thank ye, mistress," he replied, grinning proudly at the dignity +she had bestowed upon his humble abode. "I've that will take me up to +Dame Chine, at the Fountain Inn, an' I should be there this very +minute, an' not chatterin' here. But I was tired, an' when I came +along an' saw old Leet, sat down to rest a bit." + +"When are you intending to fetch that pink ribbon you promised me weeks +ago, and the lace for Aunt Lettice?" demanded Dorothy, as Mary +Broughton stepped over the intervening seats, past Leet, at the oars, +with small 'Bitha alongside him, and took her place beside her friend. + +"I've both in my pack, up at the hut; I'll bring 'em to the house this +week, ye may depend on it," answered Johnnie, as Pashar pushed off the +boat, springing nimbly in as the keel left the sand. + +"If you do not, I'll never buy another thing from you so long as I +live," the girl called back, with a wilful toss of her head, as Leet +pulled away with strong, rapid strokes. + +"'T is all wrong for two pretty ones like them to be roamin' 'round in +such fashion," said Johnnie to himself, as he stooped to take up his +pack. Then suddenly, as if remembering something, he turned to the +shore and called out, "Shall ye find Master John at home, think ye, +Mistress Dorothy?" + +Her voice came back silvery clear over the distance of water lying +between them. "No; he is up at the Fountain Inn." + +"Ah, as I thought," the pedler muttered, with a meaning smile. "I'll +just be in the nick o' time." + +"What think you it all means, Mary?" Dorothy asked, the two sitting +close together in the boat. + +"What _all_ means?" echoed Mary, in an absent-minded way, her head +turned toward the shore they were leaving, where on the higher land the +far-away windows of the Fountain Inn were showing like glimmering stars +in the light of the setting sun. + +"Why," Dorothy explained, smiling at Mary's abstraction, "all these +soldiers coming down here? And Johnnie acts and talks as if he could +tell something important, if he chose." + +"You know, Dot, we are like to have serious trouble,--perhaps a war +with the mother country." + +"And all because of a parcel of old tea!" exclaimed Dorothy, with great +scorn. + +Mary now turned her face in the direction the boat was going, and +smiled faintly. "The tea is really what has brought matters to a +head," she said. "But there is more in it than that alone, from what +I've heard my father say. And there is much about it that we girls +cannot rightly understand, or talk about very wisely. Only, I hope +there will be no war. War is such a terrible thing," she added with a +shudder, "and you know what Moll told us. I almost wish we had not +gone to see her to-day." + +"I am not a bit sorry we went," said Dorothy, stoutly. "I am glad. +What did she say,--something about a big black cloud full of lightnings +and muttering thunder, coming from across the sea, to spread over the +land and darken it? Was n't that it?" + +"Yes, and much more. Do you think she was asleep as she talked to us, +Dot? She looked so strangely, and yet her eyes were wide open all the +time." + +"Tyntie does the same thing at times. She says it's 'trance.' But +Aunt Penine always puts me out of the kitchen when Tyntie gets that +way, and so I don't know whether she talks or not. I mean to try and +find out, if I can, the next time Tyntie gets into such a state." + +"Nothing seems strange for Indians to do or to be," Mary said musingly; +"but I never heard of such things amongst white people." + +"Oh, yes, you did," Dorothy answered quickly. "Whatever are you +thinking of, not to remember about the witches? 'T is said they could +foretell to a certainty of future happenings. I wish I'd lived in +those days, although it could not have been pleasant to see folks +hanged for such knowledge. As for Moll Pitcher,--I guess she might +have been treated as was old Mammie Redd." + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +There was a long silence, broken at last by Mary saying, "Perhaps what +some folk say of Moll is true,--that it is an evil gift she has. And +yet she has a sweet face and gentle manner." + +"I wonder if 't is truth, what they say of old Dimond, her father," +said Dorothy, her chin supported in one soft palm, while her eyes +looked off over the water, motionless almost as the seaweed growing on +the scarred rocks along the shore, left bare by the low tide. + +"What is that?" Mary asked. + +"Why, that whenever there was a dark, stormy night, with a gale +threatening the ships at sea, he would go up on Burial Hill, and beat +about amongst the grass, to save the crews from shipwreck." + +Mary laughed. "What an idea!" she exclaimed. "How could beating the +ground about the dead benefit or protect the living, who are surely in +the keeping of Him who makes the tempests?" + +"I don't know," was Dorothy's simple answer. "Only that is what I've +heard, ever since I was a child. And such talk always took my fancy." + +"Well, old Dimond doesn't look now as if he could have strength to beat +the ground, or anything else. Poor old man, he is very feeble, and I +should say 't is a happy thing for him that Moll can come down from +Lynn now and then, to attend him." + +"Yes," Dorothy assented. Then, with a lively change of tone and +manner, "'T was odd, Mary, for her to say that when you left her door +you were to see your true-love riding to meet you on horseback." + +Mary started, and without answering, turned her head away, while the +blood rushed to her lovely face. + +"Which was he, sweetheart?" Dorothy persisted teasingly, bending her +head so as to bring her smiling face directly under the down-dropped +blue eyes, and then laughing outright at the confusion she saw there. + +"Which one was it?" she repeated. "You know Hugh Knollys rode down the +road directly toward you, and then--" + +But Mary's white hand was over the laughing lips and silenced them. + +"If your father should hear you talking in such fashion, Dot, I feel +sure he would be displeased with me for having gone with you to see +Moll." Mary made an effort to look and speak naturally, but her eyes +were very bright and her face was still deeply flushed. + +Dorothy smiled, and shook her curly head wilfully. "Not he," she said +with decision; "leastway, not for long. He is stern enough, at times, +to others; but he can never be severe with me." + +"Ah, Dot, but you are surely a spoiled child," said Mary, with a fond +glance at the winsome face. + +Dorothy shrugged her small shoulders. "So Aunt Penine is always +saying; but all the aunts in the world could never come 'twixt my +father and me." + +Little 'Bitha, who had been crooning softly to herself, and +improvising, after a fashion of her own,-- + + "The sea is blue, blue, blue, + The sea is blue, and I love the sea," + +suddenly cried out, "Oh, Dot, look, look! What an ugly fish!" + +They all looked, and saw a dead dogfish, its cruel teeth showing in the +gaping jaws, go bobbing by, entangled in a mesh of floating seaweed. + +"Him look like dead nigger," said Pashar, as he flung a pebble at it. + +Old Leet scowled over his shoulder at his lively descendant. + +"Dere'll be anudder, an' real true, dead nigger ter keep him company, +ef ye don't sit still, an' quit grampussin' 'bout de boat," he growled; +and. Pashar became very quiet. + +They were now drawing in nearer to the shore, where the strip of +sand-beach lay down below the rocky headland, upon the highest point of +which stood Spray House, the home of Nicholson Broughton and his +daughter Mary. + +The house--a low, rambling building, with gabled roof--was perched upon +the highest of a series of greenstone and syenite ledges, whose natural +jaggedness had no need to be strengthened by art to render them a safe +bulwark against the encroaching seas, when the storms flashed blinding +mists and glittering spray about the diamond-paned windows. + +These looked off over the open water, and past the point of land +intervening between Great Bay and Marblehead Rock. Upon the latter was +an odd beacon,--being a discarded pulpit from one of the Boston +churches, whence, after hearing much of the noise and commotion of men, +it had been transferred to this barren rock, there to listen to the +ceaseless tumult of the battling sea. + +Inland from Spray House stood the many great warehouses; and back of +these stretched the pasture-lands, breaking here and there into rough +hills, showing fields of golden splendor, where the wood-wax, or +"dyer's weed," was growing in luxuriant wildness. + +Several small boats were drawn up on the beach; and anchored a little +way out, and directly opposite the front windows of Spray House, were +two goodly-sized schooners, and a brig, their topmasts now touched by +the fiery gold of sunset. + +"I wish you were coming home with me, Mary," said Dorothy, as Leet ran +the boat's nose into the shingle, and Pashar leaped out to hold the +stern. + +"I wish so, too. But you know it will not be many days before father +goes up to Boston, and he said I should abide with you until he +returned." + +"That will be fine," said Dorothy, her face aglow with pleasure, as +Mary, after dropping a light kiss upon her check, arose to leave the +boat. "Only, if I were you, I should coax him to let me go to Boston." + +"I did ask him; but he goes on public matters, he said, and was like to +have a quick and a rough trip." Mary was now standing upon the beach. + +"Well, be he gone a long or a short time, we shall all be very happy to +have you with us. That you know, surely." And Dorothy kissed her hand +to her friend, as Leet pulled out again into the water and rowed toward +the upper end of the bay, while Mary took her way across the beach to +the thread-like path leading up to the plateau that formed the back +dooryard of Spray House. + +In the yard was Joe, the darkey serving-man, busy cutting more wood to +increase the already generous pile stored in the building near by, +while Agnes, his niece, was in the kitchen, preparing the evening meal. + +In the long, low, oak-panelled "living-room" of the house, its windows +facing the water, Mary found her father. He was standing--a tall, +finely built man, nearly fifty--gazing through an open window. His +sturdy legs were well apart, as with hands in his trousers' pockets he +was jingling his keys and loose coin in a restless sort of way, while +he hummed to himself. + +Mary entered so softly, or else his thoughts were so absorbing, that he +did not notice her until she stood close beside him and slipped a hand +within his arm. Then he started, and the scowl left his brow as he +turned the frank, blue-gray eyes, so like her own, down upon her +upturned, smiling face. + +"Ha, Pigsney!" he exclaimed, now smiling himself. "And have you had a +pleasant water-trip?" He looked at her lovingly, while he caressed the +blonde head that just reached to his broad shoulder. + +"Yes," she replied hurriedly. "And I met Johnnie Strings, who has but +just come from over Salem way. He says there are quantities of +soldiers there, and that they are like to come this way and spread all +over the town." + +"You speak of them, sweetheart, as if they might be another epidemic of +smallpox," he said grimly, "And so they are, so they are, if not indeed +something worse." And the scowl came back to his face as he looked off +over the water at his brig and schooners. + +"But what does it all mean, father?" Mary asked anxiously. "Think you +they will meet with opposition should they actually come down here? +Oh, it would be dreadful to have any fighting right here in our streets +and before our very doors." The girl trembled, and her cheeks paled. + +"Nay, nay, lass," and he patted her shoulder reassuringly; "cross no +bridges until you come to them." Then he added rather impatiently, +"What does Johnnie Strings mean by telling such tales to affright +women-folk?" + +"We--Dorothy Devereux and I--met him, and we made him talk. But he did +not seem to want to tell us all he knew about it." + +"And quite right," said her father, smiling again. "Lord pity the man +who is fool enough to tell women--and girls, at that--all he knows of +such matters, in days like these." + +Mary looked up at him a little reproachfully, but he only bent and +kissed her, as he said, now quite gravely: "I've much on my mind this +night, my child, and I have to ask if you can be ready soon after +supper to drive with me to the house of neighbor Devereux, and to stop +there a few days with Dorothy. I have certain matters to talk over +with him, and will pass the night there; and before daylight I must be +on my way to Boston." + + + + +CHAPTER V + +On Riverhead Beach, at the extreme southwest end, the Devereux family +kept sundry boats, for greater convenience in reaching the town proper, +without going around the Neck, by the open seaway; and some distance +from the boat-house was their home, the way being along the shore and +across the thriftily planted acres and through the woodland. + +The same low stone house it was that had withstood the pirates' raid +over one hundred years before. But the forests were now gone, although +a noble wood still partially environed it. And beyond this were +sloping hills and grassy meadows, through which ran a stream of pure, +sweet water, wandering on through the dusk of the woods until it found +the sea. + +Here fed the flocks and herds of Joseph Devereux, the grandson of John +and Anne. + +There had been some additions to the original building, but these were +low and rambling, like the older portion. And before it, broader of +expanse and to the vision than in the early days, stretched the sea, a +far-reaching floor of glass or foam, to melt away in the pearly dimness +of the horizon. + +The hush of lingering twilight was over the place, and now and then the +note of a thrush or robin thrilled sweet on the golden-tissued air. +But from the vine-draped door of the low stone dairy came sounds less +inviting, uttered by Aunt Penine, the widowed sister-in-law and +housekeeper of Joseph Devereux, as she goaded her maids at their +evening work. + +In sharp contrast with her, both as to person and manner, was her +invalid sister Lettice, who was sitting on the porch before the open +door, with little 'Bitha, her orphaned grandchild, hanging lovingly +about her. + +Opposite these sat Joseph Devereux, smoking his evening pipe; and +crouched on the stone step, her curly head resting against his knee, +was Dorothy, now gentle and subdued. + +There was an irresistible charm about the girl's wilfulness that +blended perfectly with the sacred innocence of her childish nature. +She was impetuous, laughter-loving, and somewhat spoiled; but she was +possessed of a high spirit, strong courage, and a pure, tender heart. + +Her father's idol and chief companion she had always been since, in his +sixtieth-odd year, she was laid in his strong arms,--vigorous as those +of a man half his own age. And he was looking into her baby face, so +like his own, when he heard that she was all he had left of his +faithful wife. + +He had lost many children; and such sorrow, softening still more a +never hard heart, had made him dotingly fond of those left to him,--his +twenty-seven-year-old son John and the wilful Dot. + +The girl's education had been beyond that of most maids in those times, +as had also that of her only friend, Mary Broughton; and for much the +same reason. Both girls had been carefully trained by their fathers; +and Aunt Penine, at Nicholson Broughton's request, had taught Mary +housewifery in all its branches, at the same time she was undertaking +the like portion of her niece's education. + +But this was an art in which Mary far exceeded Dot; and Aunt Penine +lectured her niece unceasingly, while seeming to find nothing but +praise for Mary's efforts. + +It was pretty sure to be something of this sort: "Dorothy, Dorothy! +Ye'll ne'er be a good butter-maker; ye beat it so, the grain will be +broke. Why cannot ye take it this way?" and Aunt Penine would show +her. "See how fine Mary does it! Ye have too hot a hand." + +Dot would give her head a toss, and remind her aunt that it was not she +herself who had the fashioning of her small hand, nor the regulating of +its temperature. And then Aunt Penine would be very sure to go to her +brother-in-law with complainings of his daughter's disrespectful +tongue, and it would end in Dot being persuaded by her father to beg +Aunt Penine's pardon, which she would do in a meek tone, but with a +suspicious sparkle in her eyes. And after that she was very likely to +be found at the stables, saddling her own mare, Brown Bess, for a wild +gallop off over the country. + +Aunt Penine was one who never seemed to remember that she had ever been +young herself; and this made her all the more unbending in her +disapproval of Dorothy's flow of spirits, and of the indulgence shown +her by her father. + +She was now coming across the grass from the dairy,--a tall, lithe +figure, from which all the roundness of youth (had she ever possessed +anything so weak) had given way to the spareness of middle age. Her +hair, still plentiful, was of a dull, lustreless black; her complexion +sallow, with paler cheeks, somewhat fallen in; and she had a pair of +small gray eyes that seemed like twinkling lights set either side a +very long, sharp nose. + +Her gown was now pinned up around her like that of a fishwife; a white +cap surmounted her severe head, and her brown arms were bare above the +elbows, where she had rolled her sleeves. She well knew that her +brother-in-law in no wise approved of her going about in such a +fashion; but this was only an added reason for her doing so. + +There was a silken rustling of doves' wings, as the flock scattered +from in front of her on the grass, where, obedient to Dorothy's call, +they had come like a cloud from the dove-cote perched high on a pole +near by. + +"Joseph," she cried, sending her shrill voice ahead of her as she +walked along, "do you know that the last two new Devonshires have +either strayed or been stolen?" + +"So Trent told me." He spoke very calmly, letting several seconds +intervene between question and answer, puffing his pipe meanwhile, +while the fingers of one hand rested amongst the curly, fragrant locks +lying against his knee. + +"Told you! Then why, under the canopy, did n't ye tell _me_?" she +demanded, as she now stood on the stone flagging in front of the +veranda, her arms akimbo, while she peered at him with her little +twinkling eyes. + +He looked at her gravely, and as if thinking, but made no reply. + +Her eyes fell, and she seemed embarrassed, for she said in a lower +tone, and by way of explanation: "Because, you see, Joseph, I cannot +look after the pans o' milk properly, if I know not how many cows there +be to draw from. There was less milk by twenty pans, this e'en; and I +was suspecting the new maid we've taken from over Oakum Bay way of +making off with it for her own folk, when Pashar came in and said he +was to go with Trent, to hunt for the missing Devonshires. And that +was the first I'd heard of any strayed cattle." + +"And even had they not been missing, Penine, you had no right to think +such evil o' the stranger," Joseph Devereux said reprovingly. "'T is a +queer fashion, it seems to me, for a Christian woman to be so ready as +you ever seem to be for thinking harsh things o' folk you may happen +not to know well. Strangers are no more like to do evil than friends, +say I." + +He now handed his pipe to Dot, who rapped the ashes out on the ground +and returned it to him. He thanked the girl with the same courtesy he +would have shown an utter stranger, while Aunt Penine, looking very +much subdued, turned about and went back to the dairy. + +Joseph Devereux was still a handsome man, with a dark, intellectual +face, framed in a halo of silvery hair, worn long, as was the fashion, +and confined by a black ribbon. About his throat was wrapped snowy +linen lawn, fine as a cobweb, and woven on his own hand-looms by the +women of his house, as was also that of the much ruffled shirt showing +from the front of a buff waistcoat, gold-buttoned. + +The same color was repeated in his top-boots, that came up to meet the +breeches of dark cloth, fastened at the knee with steel buckles. + +His tall figure was but slightly bowed; and there was a mixture of +haughtiness and softness in his manner, very far removed from +provincial brusqueness, and belonging rather to the days and +surrounding of his ancestors than to the time in which he lived. + +John, his son, was a more youthful picture of the father, but with a +freer display of temper,--this due, perhaps, to his fewer years. But +father and son were known alike for kindly and generous deeds, and as +possessing a high ideal of truth and justice. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +"Do you suppose, Joseph, that Jack will have had his supper?" + +Aunt Lettice asked the question a little anxiously, as she drew about +her shoulders the soft shawl that little 'Bitha's impetuous clasping +had somewhat disarranged. + +"Aye; I think the lad is sure to have taken it at the inn." His voice +was very gentle, as it always was when he addressed her. + +"There he is!" shouted 'Bitha. And she darted down the steps to wave +frantic arms at two horsemen coming up the wooded way to the house, +while Dot lifted her head from her father's knee, as he now sat more +erect in his chair. + +"Have a care, 'Bitha, or we may run you down," called out John +Devereux, laughingly. And at this the little maiden made haste to +speed back to the porch. + +It was Hugh Knollys who accompanied him,--a stalwart, broad-chested +young fellow of twenty-five or six, with blunt features and a not +over-handsome face. But for all this he had an irresistible magnetism +for those who knew him; and no one could ever associate evil or untruth +with his frank, keen-glancing gray eyes and clean-cut, smiling lips. + +"Good-evening, Hugh, and welcome," said Joseph Devereux, rising to +extend a friendly hand as the young man came up the steps. + +Hugh removed his hat and nodded to Dorothy, glancing at her askance as +she arose and with a demure greeting passed him and went to her +brother, who was now giving some orders to old Leet. + +"Jack," she whispered imploringly, under cover of the talk going on in +the porch,--"Jack, tell me, please, that you will not speak to father +of Mary and me seeing Moll Pitcher this afternoon." + +He looked at her smilingly, and then took her chin in his fingers and +gave her head a gentle shake, in a way he had of doing. + +"If I do as you ask, will you promise not to go over to that part of +the town again without telling me first, and then not to go unless I +say you may?" + +"Yes, yes," she answered eagerly. + +"Well, then, 't is a bargain." With this he put an arm around her, and +they turned toward the house. + +"Did Mary go home?" he asked, as they walked slowly along. + +"Yes; but she is coming soon to stop with us, as her father is to go to +Boston on business of some sort." + +"He is like to go this very night," the young man said. + +"This very night!" Dorothy echoed. "Why, then, Mary might have come +home with me, as I wished. But how do you know that, Jack?" + +"Never mind now," was his evasive answer. "You will hear all about it +later." + +They were now at the porch, and his father, who had been conversing +earnestly with young Knollys, said: "Hugh tells me that ye both had +supper at the inn. So come within, Jack,--come, both o' ye, and let us +talk over certain matters of importance. Hugh will stop with us for +the night; and, Dot, do you go and tell your Aunt Penine, so that his +room may be prepared." And leading the way, the old gentleman went +inside, followed by his son and their guest. + +"Grandame," asked 'Bitha, as Dorothy arose and went in quest of Aunt +Penine, "what did Hugh Knollys mean by his talk to Uncle Joseph just +now, of the King's soldiers at Salem?" The child spoke in an awed +voice, drawing closer to the old lady, and looking up at her with +startled eyes. + +Aunt Lettice tried to give her delicate features a properly severe cast +as she answered, "Hush, 'Bitha! you should not listen to matters not +meant for your hearing." + +"But I've heard it before, grandame," 'Bitha persisted. "Johnnie +Strings said the same thing, this afternoon, to Dot and Mary Broughton. +He said the soldiers were coming all over here, clear to the shore, and +that we best have guns ready to shoot them." + +Aunt Lettice's expression had now become really severe, for she still +had the old-time reverence for King and Parliament dwelling in her +heart. + +"Johnnie Strings is seditious and rebellious, to speak so of His +Gracious Majesty's army," she said with marked disapproval; "and he +shall sell no more of his wares to me, if he goes about the country +talking in such fashion. But you must have mistaken his meaning, +child." + +But 'Bitha shook her small head wilfully, in a way to remind one of her +cousin Dorothy, and took herself off to the charms of the kitchen +regions, where old Tyntie was ever ready to listen to her prattle, and +tell her charming tales when work was out of the way. + +And this is how 'Bitha came to know that the bright green spots showing +here and there in the meadows were the rings made by the dancing feet +of the Star-sisters, when they came down in a great ball of light from +their home in the sky, striking the ball about as they danced, and +causing it to give forth most ravishing music. + +And Tyntie told her, also, that the flitting will-o'-the-wisp lights +that showed on dark nights over the farthest away marsh-lands were the +wandering souls of Indian warriors, watching to keep little children +from getting lost or frightened; that the cry of the whippoorwill was +the lament of Munomene-Keesis, the Spirit of the Moon, over +dead-and-gone warriors vanquished by the white men; that the wild winds +coming from the sea were Pawatchecanawas, breathing threatenings for +bad men and their ships; and that the frogs hopping about in the cool +dusk were all little Iiche, with a magic jewel in their ugly heads. + +All this was imparted as they sat out on the great stumps of hewn-down +trees, while the twilight gathered and the stars came out in the vault +overhead, and the two were at a safe distance from Aunt Penine's +practical bustling and sharp tongue. + +For Aunt Penine ruled the household with a veritable "rod of iron;" and +her courtly and calm-voiced brother-in-law was the only mortal to whom +she had ever been known to show deference of manner or speech. + +She had gone within, and the maids with her. The dairy was closed for +the night, and Dorothy had returned to the porch, where she was now +seated in her father's favorite chair. + +"Aunt Lettice," she said presently, "what think you all these queer +things mean? Mary Broughton said we might have a war; and there seems +a great lot for the men folk to be having meetings over, and secret +talk about." + +"I know no more than you, Dorothy, but I wish it was all over, and that +I might have my tea once more; I miss it sadly." + +"Why," exclaimed Dorothy, looking greatly surprised, "there is tea in +the house, Aunt Lettice! I thought it was not made for you because you +did not care for it." + +"Indeed I do care for it very much," said the little old lady; and she +sighed wistfully. "But Penine said there was to be no more tea, as +your father had forbidden it." + +"Well, some one is drinking it," Dorothy asserted with positiveness, +"for I found a small potful of tea in the store-closet this very +morning." + +"Are you sure, my dear?" Aunt Lettice asked wonderingly. + +"Of course I am sure, for I smelled it; and as I detest the odor, I +looked to see what it came from. And I know as well that there is a +big canful of tea there, for I caught the lace of my sleeve on the lid +last Sabbath day, as I reached to get the sugar to put on 'Bitha's +bread. Aunt Penine must know it is there." + +"Penine is very fond of her tea." Aunt Lettice sighed again, and this +time rather suggestively. + +"Well," said Dorothy, her fiery spirit all aglow, "if she be such a pig +as to make it for herself when she lets you have none, I shall find +out, and tell my father of her doings." + +"My dear, my dear, you should not speak so," the gentle old lady +protested, but with only feeble remonstrance. It was evident that +Dorothy's words had put the matter in a new light. + +"Now, Aunt Lettice," continued Dorothy, as she straightened her small +figure in the chair, "you know that Aunt Penine often treats you with +hard-hearted selfishness, and then next minute she will be reading her +good books and trying to look pious. I never want to be her sort of +good,--never! And while I live, she shall not treat you so any more. +I shall tell father to ask her about the tea, I warrant you." + +Before Aunt Lettice could reply to this impetuous speech, a coach drove +up, its lamps showing like glow-worms in the gathering dusk. In it +were Nicholson Broughton and Mary; and Dorothy rushed down the steps to +welcome her friend as though they had been parted for weeks. + +While the new-comers were alighting, Leet came up to show the coachman +the way to the stables; and then the two girls went directly to the +porch, while Broughton himself tarried to give some low-spoken orders +to his servant. + +The sound of the carriage wheels had brought John Devereux quickly to +the porch, while his father and Hugh Knollys followed after, the +younger man walking slowly, in deference to the slight lameness of his +host. + +"Ah, neighbor Broughton, you are just the man we were wishing for. +Heartily welcome!" And Joseph Devereux clasped the other man's hand, +while John turned away with his sister and Mary Broughton. + +They were joined a moment later by Hugh Knollys; and John Devereux, as +though suspecting a possible rival, watched keenly his blunt, honest +face as he took the small hand Mary extended. But there was naught in +Hugh's look to alarm him, nor in the quiet greeting Mary gave his +friend. + +Dorothy now drew his attention. "Jack," she asked earnestly, "did you +warn Hugh not to speak aught of this afternoon?" But Hugh answered her +question by a slight laugh, accompanied by a comprehending nod. + +"Oh, Dot," said Mary, with gentle reproach, "you should not deceive +your father in this way." + +Dorothy raised her head as though she had been struck, and drew herself +up to the full limit of her small stature. + +"Indeed, Mary, I intend to do no such thing," she replied almost +aggressively. "'T is only that I wish to tell him all about it myself, +and in my own fashion." + +Here her father's voice broke in. "Come, John,--come, Hugh,--come +inside, with neighbor Broughton and me. We will get our matters +settled as soon as may be, while the girls visit with Aunt Lettice. +But ye must all come within; 't is getting much too damp and cold to +stop longer out o' the house." + +He drove them in before him and closed the door, shutting out the roar +of the surf along the shore, as it mingled with the shrilling of the +dry-voiced insects in the grasses and woods. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +It was the dining-room of the house wherein the four men sat in earnest +consultation; and now that they were alone, their faces were grave to +solemnity. + +The oak-ceiled and wainscoted room was filled with lurking shadows in +the far corners, where the light from the candles did not penetrate; +and the inside shutters of stout oak were closed and bolted over the +one great window, along which ran a deep cushioned seat. + +Joseph Devereux sat by the mahogany table, whose black polish reflected +the lights, mirror-like, and--but more dully--the yellow brass of the +candlesticks. His elbow was resting upon the smooth wood, his hand +supporting his head; and in the light of the candle burning near, his +face looked unusually stern. + +His son sat opposite, his face mostly in shadow, as he lay back in his +chair and thrummed the table with his slender brown fingers. + +At either side sat Nicholson Broughton and Hugh Knollys, the former +looking stern and troubled as he smoked his long pipe, while the +younger man's face held but little of its usual light-hearted +expression. His hands were thrust deep in his breeches' pockets, and +he whistled softly now and then in an absent-minded way. + +"Aye, 't is a grave state of affairs, Broughton," Joseph Devereux was +saying. "I love not oppression, nor tyrannical dealing. And yet, +think you that ever was a petty tyrant overthrown, and the instruments +of his punishment could always escape a pricking o' the conscience, +that made it not easy for them to look back upon their own share in his +downfall? Shall the time come, I wonder, when we must question the +truth o' this inspiration we are now acting under as a town and as a +country?" + +"Nay, say I,--never!" exclaimed Broughton, with fiery ardor. "Being +human, we must all feel sympathy for suffering, be it in enemy or +friend. But our land is lost, and we nothing better than slaves, did +we longer submit to the tyranny of the mother country. As God bade +Moses of old lead the children of Israel from the bondage and cruel +injustice of Pharaoh, so we should feel that He now bids us, as men +with a country, and as fathers with families to cherish and protect, to +rise up and assert our manhood, and to assure our freedom, even though +it be by as fierce a war as ever was waged." + +"And war there's bound to be!" It was Hugh Knollys who said this, and +he seemed to look more cheery at the thought. + +Joseph Devereux glanced at him sharply, and then turned to his son. + +"You say, Jack," he asked, "that Strings said the Governor was to order +a body o' soldiers down to the Neck?" + +"Yes, sir--and that right away." + +At this, Nicholson Broughton spoke up, looking at his host. + +"As I was saying to you awhile back, neighbor Devereux, the committee +ordered to Boston, to decide upon delegates, must get a start from town +before the redcoats get into quarters upon the Neck, or there may be +trouble which it were as well to avoid. This was decided upon when we +met at the Fountain Inn, this afternoon; and 't was agreed that all who +go from here should take the road to Boston before to-morrow's dawn. +John and Hugh, here, reckon on going along with us, to meet Brattle in +Boston, for he has sent word that he is to sail the day after to-morrow +with a shipload of supplies ordered down by the Governor for the +soldiery at Salem. This will be a fine opportunity for smuggling down +the firearms and powder which have been hid so long in Boston, waiting +the chance for safe conveyance here." + +Before Joseph Devereux could speak, his son broke in eagerly: "Hugh and +I will come down with Brattle, and we'll lie off at anchor, as near our +own shore as may be. Some one must be ready to give us the signal from +the land; and if all is safe, we can put the guns and powder ashore and +hide them. This will be the safest plan, for about Great Bay the +soldiers will be on the lookout for anything unwonted; and in Little +Harbor it will be as bad, for they will have their eyes wide open to +keep a sharp watch upon the Fountain Inn, and all about it--be it on +land or water." + +"You say truly, Jack," his father assented, "But whom can we trust to +give the signal? Ah," with a sigh, "if only I had back a few of my own +lost years, or was not so lame!" + +"Brains can serve one's land, friend Devereux, as well, oftentimes +better, than arms," said Broughton, looking at his host's massive head +and intelligent features. "We all have our appointed work to do, and +no man is more capable than you of doing his share." + +"I pray it maybe so," was the reply. "But, be it much or little, all I +have and am are at the service of our cause." + +"Why not let Dorothy be the one to give the signal?" asked Hugh +Knollys, as from a sudden inspiration. + +"Just the one," said John Devereux, looking over at his father. "She +fears nothing, and can be relied upon in such a matter." + +The old gentleman seemed a bit reluctant, and sat silent for a few +moments. Then speaking to his son, he said: "Call the child in. This +is no time to hold back one's hand from the doing of aught that be +needful to help the cause of our land." + +It was not many minutes before Dorothy came into the room behind her +brother; and her eyes opened wider than ever as their quick glance took +in the solemn conclave about the table. + +Her father stretched out an inviting hand. "Come here, Dot," he said +smilingly. "Do not look so frightened, my baby." And he patted her +small hand in a loving way as he drew her close beside him. + +"No," added Hugh mischievously, his face having now regained its usual +jollity, "we are not going to eat you, Dorothy." + +She deigned him no reply, not even a glance, but stood silently beside +her father, while she looked questioningly into her brother's face. + +He explained in a few words the matter in hand; and the flash of her +eyes, together with the smile that touched the upturned corners of her +mouth, told how greatly to her liking was the duty to which she had +been assigned. + +Jack had scarce finished speaking, when there was an interruption, in +the person of Aunt Penine, who entered bearing a tray, upon which were +tumblers and a bowl of steaming punch. + +She shot a glance of marked disapproval at Dorothy; then, as she placed +the tray upon the table in front of her brother-in-law, she said in a +tone of acidity, "Were it not better, think you, Joseph, that the girl +went into the other room and stopped with Lettice and Mary Broughton?" + +Dorothy turned her eyes defiantly upon the elder woman, her soft brows +suggesting the frown that came to her father's face as he said with +grave severity: "The child is here, Penine, because I sent for her. +Let the punch be as it is--and leave us, please." + +She tossed her head belligerently, and without speaking took her +departure, casting a far from friendly look at the others. + +"I strongly suspect, father," said John, as he rose and crossed the +room to close the door his aunt, either by accident or intent, had left +ajar, "that we'd best have a care how we let Aunt Penine hear aught of +our affairs. Her sympathies are very sure to be with the other side, +if the struggle comes to blows." + +"I will see to Penine," his father answered quietly. "Do you go on +instructing Dot as to what she is to do." + +His son bowed, and turned once more to the girl. + +"And so, Dot, as I've said already, you must reckon surely upon the +vessel lying off the beach in a straight line with the Sachem's Cave, +on Friday night, at about eleven o'clock. And this being Monday, will +give four days, which will be time enough to allow for all that's to be +done. But you must watch, child, even if it prove later in the night, +or even in the morning, before we arrive. And when you see a light +showing, then disappearing, then two lights, and then three, you must +answer from the shore if all be well, and 't is safe to land, by +showing two lights, and then letting them burn for us to steer by. +Mount as high as you can to the uppermost level above the cave, so that +we may get a good view of your signal. Can you keep all this in that +small head of yours?" And he smiled at her, as though some happy +outing were being planned. + +She nodded quickly, but with a grave face; then, after a moment's +hesitation, she asked, "May I tell Mary?" + +Her brother's eyes dropped, as Hugh Knollys flashed a laughing glance +upon him. But her father replied at once: "Aye, it were best to do so. +And if neighbor Broughton has no objections, it were more prudent that +she should be your companion." + +"Not I!" responded Broughton heartily, raising to his lips the glass of +punch his host had been dispensing from the bowl in front of him. "But +be over-careful, Dorothy, as to who may be about to overhear what you +say to her. And"--his voice growing very grave--"may God keep you +both, for two brave, right-hearted girls." + +"Amen!" said Joseph Devereux. And he lifted his glass to the others, +as though pledging them and the great cause they all had so devoutly at +heart. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +When Dorothy left the dining-room, it was by a door opposite that by +which Aunt Penine had made her angry exit,--one leading to the +storerooms and kitchen. + +The one through which Dorothy went opened directly upon a small +platform, whose flight of three steps descended into the main hall, +which was part of the original building, and was now lighted dimly by a +ship's lantern swinging from the low dark-wood ceiling, or +"planchement." + +A pair of handsome antlers were fixed against the wall about midway +down the passage, and underneath these was a long mahogany table, piled +with a miscellaneous collection of whips, hats, and riding-gloves. + +Directly opposite hung the family arms, placed there more than a +hundred years before by the hands of John Devereux, the "Emigrant," as +he was called. They were: Arg., a fesse, gu., in chief three torteaux. +Crest;--out of a ducal coronet, or, a talbots head, arg., eared, gu. +And the motto was "Basis Virtutum Constantia." + +Other than this the long, wide hall was bare of furnishing. + +Dorothy came out with her usual impetuous rush, and closing the door +quickly behind her, was startled by seeing a form rise, as it seemed, +from the platform, and then, as if retreating hastily, stumble and fall +down the steps. + +The girl looked with astonishment, and saw Aunt Penine prostrate upon +the floor of the hall, her upturned face pale and distorted, as with +pain. + +It was quite evident that she had been eavesdropping; and Dorothy +remained at the head of the steps regarding her scornfully for a +moment, before asking if she were hurt. + +"Yes, I have done somewhat to my ankle, drat it!" gasped the sufferer, +but in a low voice, as if fearful of attracting the attention of those +on the other side of the door. + +"Shall I call Jack?" Dorothy inquired, a faint smile of sarcasm +touching her lips; and she made a movement as though to reopen the door. + +"No, no,--oh no!" exclaimed Aunt Penine in great alarm, as she +endeavored to regain her feet. + +This she at length succeeded in doing, and stood with one hand against +the wall, while she groaned, but in a suppressed way. + +Just then Mary Broughton came from a room farther down the hall, where +she had been delighting Aunt Lettice with soft melodies drawn from the +spinet, upon which both she and Dorothy were skilful performers. + +"What is it--is anything amiss?" she asked quickly, coming up to Aunt +Penine, and laying a hand on her trembling shoulder. + +But Aunt Penine only continued to groan dismally, while her niece, with +a laugh she did not try to hide, now came down the steps. + +"Aunt Penine was evidently anxious to be of my father's council," she +said to Mary; "and I chanced to open the door too quickly for her, so +that she slipped down the steps and has twisted her ankle." + +Her aunt straightened herself and glanced angrily at the girl, who only +laughed again, while Mary Broughton stood regarding her with a puzzled +look. + +"Shall I help you to your room, Aunt Penine?" Dorothy asked with +elaborate politeness, holding out her arm. + +"No," snapped her aunt. "I wish no assistance from you, whose sharp +tongue seems ever ready with insult for your elders. Mary will help +me; and ye may find Tyntie, and send her to my room." With this she +hobbled away, leaning heavily upon Mary, who looked back reproachfully +at Dorothy. + +But Dot only laughed again, as she turned and went to a door at the end +of the hall which communicated with a side passage leading to the +servants' quarters; then, having summoned Tyntie, she came back and +seated herself upon a lower step of the main staircase to await Mary's +coming. + +Her friend's first words were full of reproof. "Oh, Dot, how could you +seem so heartless?" she said. "You should see Aunt Penine's foot; 't +is swollen fearfully, and her ankle is discolored." + +"If you but knew how it came about, Mary, perhaps you'd be less ready +to scold me," Dorothy replied, making room on the step. "There are +weighty matters being talked of in the dining-room yonder, and I was to +tell you what Jack took me in for. Aunt Penine came in with the punch +while I was there, and she tried to have me sent away. She was angry +that father would not do this, but bade her mind her business and let +me alone. When I opened the door just now, she was trying to listen to +what they were saying, and I came out so suddenly as to frighten her, +so that she stumbled and hurt herself. I am sorry she is hurt; but if +it had befallen me, she'd have been ready enough to say I'd but +received my just deserts." + +"Why should she try to listen at the door?" asked Mary with surprise, +as she twisted one of Dorothy's short curls about her slender fingers. +But Dorothy gave her head an unruly toss, to release the curl, as she +had ever a dislike for being fondled or touched in any way, unless it +were by her father or brother. + +"There is really to be a war, and that soon," she replied. "The +soldiers, they say, are coming down to the Neck in a few days--perhaps +even to-morrow; and the people propose--and rightly, too--to fight +them, if needs be, should they try to interfere with our doings. Aunt +Penine sides with the English, I take it from what I've heard her say; +and I know for a surety she has been slyly making tea to drink, for all +that father has forbidden it. He and Aunt Lettice miss their tea as +much as ever she does herself, and yet they have never touched a drop. +I intend to tell him to-morrow that I know of a canful of tea in the +store-closet. I was talking with Aunt Lettice about it when you came +this evening. She supposed there was not a grain of it in the house, +and I am sure father has been thinking the same. Aunt Penine is +deceitful and disloyal to him--and so I shall tell him, if I live, +to-morrow morning." + +"Whatever did she expect to hear, that she did so mean and dishonorable +a thing as to listen at the keyhole?" Mary spoke musingly, a fine +scorn now touching her lips, and it was clear that her sympathy for the +afflicted one was greatly dampened. + +"Perhaps she intends to play spy, as she disapproves so entirely of the +feeling the townsfolk all have. Spies are well paid, so I've heard; +and Aunt Penine would do anything for money." Dorothy's eyes flashed, +and she stared straight ahead, pulling at her front locks in an +absent-minded way, as though she were speculating over all the mischief +her aunt might have in view. + +"She may mean nothing, after all, Dot," Mary said, after a moment's +thought. "It may be that she was only curious to know why you were +admitted to the room, while she and all the rest of us were kept out. +Still, if I were you, I'd tell my father of her listening." + +"Indeed I shall," was the emphatic reply, "and of the tea as well. I +have a notion she got it all from Robert Jameson. You know what they +tell of him; and he and Aunt Penine seem to have a deal to say to one +another these days. She has sent Pashar to him with notes ever so many +times, as I know; and Pashar seems to have more silver nowadays than +father gives him, for he has, more than once, brought 'Bitha sweets +from the store." + +Mary nodded significantly at the mention of Robert Jameson's name. He +was the nearest neighbor of Joseph Devereux, and had come to be +regarded with distrust--enmity, indeed--by most of his former +associates. + +He was a widower of some wealth, and had no family; and Aunt Penine had +long been suspected of cherishing a desire to entrap him into a second +matrimony. + +A few months before, an exceedingly complimentary, almost fulsome, +address to Hutchinson, the recent Governor, had appeared in the columns +of a newspaper known as the "Essex Gazette," to which were attached the +names of some residents of the town, Jameson's amongst them. It +endorsed all that had been said in praise of his administration, and of +his aiming only at the public good; and it asserted that such was the +opinion of all thinking and dispassionate citizens. + +This manifest untruth had raised a storm of indignation. A town +meeting was held, and a committee appointed, with instructions to +inform the signers of this false and malicious statement that they +would be exonerated only by making a public retraction of all +sentiments contained therein; and that upon refusing to do this, they +would be denounced as enemies of the province, desiring to insult both +branches of the legislature, and to affront the town. + +Jameson had been one of the few who refused to comply with the +committee's demand; and he had since been shunned as an enemy to the +cause, and looked upon with suspicion and distrust. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +The household was astir early the next morning to set the travellers on +their road with a warm meal and a parting word; and despite the absence +of Aunt Penine, all the domestic machinery moved as smoothly as usual. + +There could still be seen a few stars, not yet blotted out by the +pearly haze, shot with palest blue, that the dawn was putting in front +of them. + +Over the sea hung a curtain-like gathering of fog, and the air was +heavy with the odors from the wood and fern, brought forth by the damp. + +Nicholson Broughton, having borrowed a saddle from his host, had +decided to pursue the remainder of his journey on horseback; and he, +with his two younger companions, was now about to set forth. + +Mary stood near her father's horse, while he gave her some parting +words of encouragement. + +"Now bear in mind, Pigsney, all I have said, and never fail to keep a +watchful eye and stout heart. All at the house will go well until my +return; and do you abide here, safe and close, with our good friends. +Be sure to keep away from the town, and whether the Britishers come to +the Neck or no, you will be safe." + +She promised all this, and turned away as he rode off, waving a +farewell to his host, who stood within the porch, with Aunt Lettice and +little 'Bitha alongside him. + +Hugh Knollys followed, with a gay good-by to all, while John Devereux, +who had been talking with Dorothy, now vaulted into his saddle. + +As he was about to start, Mary Broughton passed along in her slow walk +to the house. She turned, and their eyes met in a look that told of a +mutual understanding. But she flushed a little, while he only smiled, +doffing his hat as he rode slowly past her down the driveway. + +Dorothy was waiting, close to her father, on the porch. + +"Don't you wish you were a man, Mary," she said, as her friend came up +the steps, "so that you could ride away to do battle for our rights, +instead of being only a woman, to stop at home and wonder and worry +over matters, while the baking and churning must be done day after day?" + +Her father smiled at this, and pinched Dorothy's cheek; then a sadness +came to his face as he looked at her. + +"To be a woman does not always mean the doing of over-much baking or +housework," said Mary, with a meaning smile, her cheeks fresher and her +blue eyes brighter, like the flowers, from the pure morning air. + +Joseph Devereux nodded an assent. "If you and Mary," he said to +Dorothy, "were to ride to Boston this day, who would there be to do +what you are entrusted with the doing on? Mark ye, my daughter," and +he bent a grave look upon her bright face, "women, as well as men, have +high and holy duties to perform,--aye, indeed, some of them even +higher. Where would come the nerve and hope for the proper ambition o' +men's minds, were there no mothers and wives and--sweethearts, to make +their lives worth the living, and their homes worth fighting for,--yes, +and their country so much more worth saving from oppression. Nay, my +baby, what would become o' your old father, if he had not a little maid +to console him, when his only son must needs face risks and dangers?" + +Dorothy did not answer, but her face softened, and her arm stole up +about his neck. + +"Dot," said Mary, presently, "do not forget the matter we talked of +last evening,--that your father was to know." + +"And pray, what is that?" the old gentleman asked briskly. + +"Come into the library, father, with Mary and me, and we will tell +you." And slipping her hand around his arm, she started to lead him +in. Mary was about to follow, when he turned to her and held out his +other arm. With an answering smile she placed her hand within it, and +all three went inside. + +Aunt Lettice had gone off to her own apartments, taking 'Bitha for her +usual morning instructing, and so they were not likely to be disturbed. + +As soon as her father was seated, Dorothy, standing by the window, +burst forth with her accustomed vehemence. + +"I want to tell you, father," she exclaimed, "that I am sure Aunt +Penine is a loyalist!" + +"Chut, chut!" he replied reprovingly. But he smiled, used as he was to +the differences betwixt his daughter and her exacting relative. + +"I have good reason for what I say," Dorothy insisted; "and Mary can +tell you so, as well." + +"Well, child, first tell me all about it, and do not begin by misnaming +any one," her father said gently. + +She told him in a few rapid words,--first, what had happened the +evening before, and ending by a detailed account of finding the tea in +the store-closet. + +Her father was scowling ominously by the time the story was finished; +and he sat in silence for a few moments, his head bent, as though +considering what she had told him. Then he said: "I thank you, my +child, for what you have told me. I must speak with Penine o' these +matters, and that right away. Do you go, Dot, and tell her I wish to +talk with her, and must do so as soon as she can see me in her room." + +"Why not let Mary go?" Dorothy suggested. "Aunt Penine likes Mary, and +she does not like me--nor I her." And she looked quite belligerent. + +"I will be glad to go, if you say so," Mary offered, rising from her +chair. + +"Well, well," he said, "it matters little to me who goes; only I must +see her at once. And thank you, Mary, child, if you will kindly tell +her so." + +As soon as Mary left the room, Dorothy came over to her father's chair +and perched herself upon one of its oaken arms. + +"And now there is another thing I wish to tell you," she said, "and I'd +best do it now." + +He put an arm about her and smiled up into her troubled face. + +"Well, well," he said playfully, while he smoothed her curls, "what a +wise little head it has grown to be all on a sudden! We shall be +hearing soon that Mistress Dorothy Devereux has been invited by the +great men o' the town--Lee and Orne and Gerry, and the rest o' them--to +be present at their next meeting, and instruct them on matters they wot +not on, despite their age and wisdom." + +She would not smile at his badinage, but went on soberly to warn him of +what she suspected between her Aunt Penine and their ostracized +neighbor, Jameson,--telling him also of the unusual amount of coin +being spent by the boy, Pashar, whom she had seen carrying notes for +her aunt. + +The smile left her father's face as he listened to this, and he shook +his head gravely. And when she finished, he said, as though to +himself, "'T is the enemies in one's own household that are ever the +most dangerous." Then rising, he added, "Come with me, Dot, while I +speak first to Tyntie." + +The old Indian woman had been devoted to the interests of the family +since forty years before, when Joseph Devereux found her--a beaten, +half-starved child of ten--living with her drunken father in a wretched +hut on the outskirts of the town, and brought her to his own house for +his wife to rear and instruct. And because of her idolatrous love for +her benefactor and his family, she had endured patiently the exacting +tyranny of Aunt Penine, whom she detested. + +Her tall, spare figure was now moving about her domain with a curious +dignity inseparable from her Indian birth; but she paused in what she +was doing the moment her master and his daughter appeared at the door, +and remained facing them in respectful silence. + +She was alone, the men having gone off to their duties about the farm, +and the maids to the dairy, or to the housework above stairs. + +"I desire to ask you, Tyntie," her master began, addressing her with +the same grave courtesy he would have used in speaking to the best-born +lady in the land, "if, since I forbade the making or using o' tea in my +house, any has been brewed?" + +"Yes, master," she answered without any hesitancy; and a sly look, as +of revenge, crept into her black eyes. + +"How dared ye do such a thing?" he demanded, his face severe with +indignation. + +"I never did it," was her laconic reply. + +"Then who did? I command ye to make a clean breast o' the matter." +And he struck his stick peremptorily upon the floor, while Dorothy, +awed by the unusual anger showing in his voice and bearing, drew a +little away from him. + +"It was Mistress Penine brewed the tea, for her own drinking." And +Tyntie showed actual pleasure in being thus enabled to expose her +oppressor. + +"And how often hath this happened since I gave strict orders that none +should be had or drunk in this house o' mine?" + +"'Most every day; and sometimes more than once in the day." + +"And how were you guarding your master's interests, to permit such +secret goings on under his roof, without giving him warning?" + +The tears rose to Tyntie's eyes and stood sparkling there; but her +voice was firm as she replied, "It was not for me to know that Mistress +Penine was doing anything wrongful, nor for me, a servant, to come to +you, my master, with evil reports o' your own kinsfolk." + +She spoke slowly and with calm dignity, and her words softened the +white wrath from the old man's face. + +He bent his head for a moment, as though pondering deeply; then he +looked at her and said in a very different tone: "You are a +right-minded, faithful servant, Tyntie, and I must tell you I am sorry +to have spoken as I did a moment agone. But from this day henceforth, +bear in mind that should you ever see aught being done under my roof +that you've heard me forbid, 't is your bounden duty to come and inform +me freely o' such matter." + +"Yes, master." Tyntie now wiped her eyes, and looked very much +comforted. + +"Now," he asked, his voice growing stern once more, "know you where +aught o' the forbidden stuff be kept, or if there still be any in the +house?" + +Tyntie went silently to the store-closet and fetched a sizable can of +burnished copper. This she opened and held toward her master and young +mistress, who saw that it was nearly half filled with the prohibited +tea. + +Joseph Devereux scowled fiercely as he beheld this tangible evidence of +Penine's bad faith and selfishness. + +"Do you take that in your own hands, Tyntie, as soon as may be," he +said; "or no--take it this instant, down to the beach, and throw it, +can and all, into the water. And see to it that you make mention o' +this matter to no one." + +Then turning slowly, he took his way again to the front of the house, +Dorothy following in silence, and feeling unwontedly awed by the +apprehension of the storm she felt was about to break; for it was a +rare matter indeed for Aunt Penine to be the one entirely at fault in +anything. + + + + +CHAPTER X + +Dorothy saw Mary Broughton on the porch outside and was about to join +her, when Mary turned and called out, "Aunt Penine is waiting to see +your father." + +At this Dorothy retraced her steps to the library, where she had left +her father sitting in moody silence, tracing with his stick invisible +writings upon the floor, the iron ferule making angry clickings against +the oaken polish. + +He made no reply to the message she gave him; so, after pausing a +moment, she said again that her aunt was awaiting him. + +"Yes, yes, child; I hear ye," he replied almost impatiently, and as +though not wishing to be disturbed. + +Dorothy said nothing more, but went out and joined Mary, who was +waiting on the porch; and, arm in arm, they strolled out into the +sunshiny morning. + +They had gone but a little way when Dorothy's sharp eyes spied Pashar +coming from a side door of the house. His black hand held something +white, which he was thrusting into the pocket of his jacket. + +She called to him sharply, and he turned his head in her direction, +while his eyes rolled restlessly. But he made no movement to come to +her, and stood motionless, as though awaiting her orders. + +"Come here!" she called peremptorily; but still he hesitated. + +"Do you come here this instant, Pashar, as I bid you," she commanded, +now taking a few steps toward him. + +At this he came forward, but in a halting way, and at length stood +before her, looking very ill at ease. + +"Give me that letter," Dorothy demanded, extending her hand for it. + +"Mist'ess Penine done say--" he began in a hesitating, remonstrative +fashion; but Dorothy cut him short. + +"Give me that letter," she repeated, stamping her small foot, "or +you'll be sorry!" + +Trained like a dumb beast to obedience, the negro boy fumbled in his +pocket and took out a folded paper which he handed to his imperious +young mistress. + +"What'll I say ter Massa Jameson when I sees him?" he asked +tremblingly, as Dorothy's little white fingers closed over the letter. +"He'll lay his ridin'-whip 'bout my shoulders, if I goes ter him now." + +"My father will surely lay _his_ riding-whip about your shoulders, if +you go near Jameson again. I'll see to it myself that you get whipped, +if you dare do such a thing," exclaimed Dorothy; and the angry flashing +of her dark eyes bore witness to her sincerity. + +"Now," she added, "go about your work,--whatever you have to do. And +mind, don't you dare stir a step--no matter who bids you--to Jameson's +place; else you will get into trouble that will make you wish you had +obeyed me." + +With this she turned back with Mary in the direction of the house. + +"Ye won't have me whipped, will ye, mist'ess?" Pashar whimpered, as he +looked after her. "Mist'ess Penine--she tole me I was ter go. An', +'sides, I gets money from Massa Jameson for ev'ry letter I fetches him." + +"I'll see presently about your getting whipped," was Dorothy's +uncomforting reply, as she glanced over her shoulder at the trembling +boy. + +The two girls walked quickly toward the house, while Pashar betook +himself off with a very downcast air, digging his black fists into his +eyes as if he felt only too certain of being punished for his +wrongdoing. + +Joseph Devereux was ascending the stairway, bound for his +sister-in-law's room, when the two girls came in from outside. Dorothy +called quickly, and speeding after him, placed the letter in his hand, +as he paused and turned to face her. + +In a low voice she acquainted him with what she had taken upon herself +to do, adding, "I was fearful of what she might have told him, if +perchance she overheard anything last night of the gunpowder and arms." + +"Wise, trusty little maid," he said, a slow smile touching the gloom of +his set face. "You have acted rightly and with great discretion, Dot. +And now I will see what Penine has to say o' the matters that look so +grave, as we see them." + +Pausing at her closed door, on the left-hand side of the upper passage, +he knocked, and then entered, as her querulous voice, now somewhat +subdued, bade him. + +Penine was lying back on a settle, a bright-hued patchwork of silk +thrown over her spare form; and her eyes showed traces of recent tears. + +Her brother-in-law seated himself in an arm-chair near her, his face +grave to sternness, as he bent a piercing look upon her troubled face. + +She cast a furtive glance at the paper he still held in his hand; then +her eyes fell, and she began to pluck nervously at the edge of the +covering, while her face became filled with an expression of guilty +embarrassment. + +"Penine," he began, in a voice quite low, but full of severity, "these +be times when, as you well know, it behooves a householder to look most +carefully to the doings of those about him. He must see to it that all +appearance, as well as doing, o' wrong be most strictly avoided. And +so I have come to ask you, as one o' my own household, how is it that +you have been brewing tea for yourself, after all that's been done and +said; and how 't is that you have such a supply of the stuff in my +house?" + +Penine flushed angrily, and tried to look him in the eyes, while her +lips half parted, as though to make some retort. Then she seemed to +alter her mind, for she remained silent, her eyes falling guiltily +before his stern, searching gaze. + +"Do not seek to hide your fault by another one--o' falsehood," he +warned her, more sternly than before. "I know what I am accusing you +of to be the truth,--more's the pity. And it surprises and grieves me +that a woman o' such years as you should set a pernicious example to +those who, younger and inferior in station to yourself, look to you for +a proper code of action for their following." + +"What harm is it, I would like to know," she burst out, but weakly, +"that I should drink my tea, if I like?" + +"The harm you do is to defy your country's law, and make me seem +disloyal and false to my word of honor," he replied with increasing +sternness. "And this you have no right to do, while you abide under my +roof." + +"My country's law is the law of His Gracious Majesty," she answered, +plucking up a little spirit, but yet unable to meet his dark, angry +eyes, "and I have never heard that he forbade his loyal subjects all +the tea they could pay for and drink." + +"Do ye mean me to understand that ye set yourself up as the enemy o' +your townsfolk and kindred?" he demanded, his voice rising. "I've +suspected as much since I had knowledge o' the fact o' your sending +notes to Robert Jameson." + +"You have no right to talk to me so, Joseph," she said, with a whimper, +terrified at the angry lighting of his face, now ablaze with wrath. + +"And ye have no right to act in a manner that makes it possible for me +to presume to. If things be not so black against ye as they surely +look, take this note that ye sent my servant with just now, to be +delivered to our country's avowed enemy, and read every word aloud to +me." + +He held the letter toward her; but she made such an eager clutch for it +that a sudden impulse led him to change his mind, and he drew back his +hand. + +"No," he said, "on second thought, 't is best that ye give me permit to +read it myself, aloud." + +"No, no!" she exclaimed almost breathlessly; and the unmistakable +terror in her voice and eyes confirmed him in his determination to see +for himself the contents of the letter. + +"I have to beg your pardon, Penine," he said with formal courtesy, "for +seeming to do a most ungallant act; but your manner only proves to me +what is my duty." + +With this he deliberately broke the seal and ran his eyes over the +paper, while Penine cast one terrified glance at him, and then fell +back, silent and cowering, her ashy face covered by her trembling hands. + +She had written Jameson of the intended landing of the arms and powder. +And Joseph Devereux knew she had done so with a view to having him send +word of the matter to the Governor, hoping in this way to win honor and +reward for the man she expected to lure into speedy wedlock. + +He read the letter once more, and then sat silent, as though pondering +over all her selfish treachery and disloyalty. And while he was thus +musing, the clock on the mantel ticked with painful loudness, and some +flies crawling about the panes of the closed windows buzzed angrily. + +When at length he spoke, his wrath seemed to have given place to pity, +mingled with utter contempt. + +"I can scarce credit, Penine," he said slowly, all trace of anger gone +from his voice, "that you should have realized to the full all you were +doing when you took such a step,--that you were bringing the British +guns down to slay my son, an' like as not my innocent little maid; a +fate which now, thank God, has been kept from them." + +His voice had become husky, and he paused to clear his throat. Then he +resumed, speaking in the same deliberate manner: "Because o' their +deliverance from death I will try and forgive what you have tried to +do; but I must not forget it, lest another such thing befall. And now, +until you be able to travel, you shall be made comfortable here. But +so soon as your ankle can be used, then you shall go to your brother, +in Lynn, for no roof o' mine shall harbor secret enemies to my country. +And," now with more sternness, "I warn you, that should you seek to +hold converse or communication of any sort with this man Jameson while +you are in my house, I shall report the matter to the town committee, +and leave them to settle with you." + +He arose from his chair, and without another glance in her direction +went out of the room, leaving Penine in tears. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +The days intervening until Friday passed without event, and the +household affairs went on much as before, Tyntie proving herself fully +capable of replacing Aunt Penine as head of the domestic régime. + +That lady kept her room, seeing no one except Tyntie and one of the +younger maids. She had refused all overtures extended by her niece and +Mary Broughton; and so, by the advice of the head of the house, they +left her to herself. + +Even Aunt Lettice was refused admittance by her sister, and refrained +from seeking it a second time after being informed by Joseph Devereux +of the recent occurrences. + +The gentle old lady now went about the house in a sad, subdued fashion, +secretly debating as to whether she would decide against King or +Colony, but carefully keeping her thoughts from being known to others. + +Johnnie Strings had kept his word to Dorothy, and brought the ribbon +and lace. Aunt Lettice had paid him for the goods she purchased, +making no response when he said, as he strapped his pack, "The +Britishers be quartered on the Neck, ma'am,--landed there this very +mornin'. The reg'lars,--they came down by ships from Salem; an' a +troop o' dragoons be ridin' over to join 'em." + +It was Mary Broughton who asked, "What are they come there for, +Johnnie,--do you know?" + +"Any one can guess, mistress, I take it," he replied significantly, +busying himself with the buckles. + +"And what do you guess, Johnnie?" asked Dorothy, who was examining a +sampler 'Bitha was working, which was to announce,-- + + "Tabitha Hollis is my name, + New England is my nation, + Marblehead is my dwelling-place, + And Christ is my Salvation." + + +Johnnie Strings finished his work with the straps and buckles; then +raising himself from the floor, he said jocosely: "Now, Mistress +Dorothy, surely ye don't care to burden your mind with matters o' +state. Whatever they be come down for, 't is a true fact that the +redcoats be on the Neck,--a hundred or more of 'em. An' as I was +tellin' ye but t'other day, ye'd best keep at home till they be called +away again." + +This was Thursday; and Friday morning the two girls, with 'Bitha, were +down in the Sachem's Cave, a small opening that ran, chasm-like, into +the rocks a few feet above the level of the sea, with a natural roof +projecting over it. + +Within was a sandy floor,--whether or not the work of man, none living +could say. It was studded with shells, placed there by childish hands, +and the cave had served as playhouse for many generations of boys and +girls. + +The opening was hung about with a lace-like weed, wherein some drops of +water were now sparkling in the morning sunshine; and beyond, +stretching away to the horizon, could be seen the sea. + +The waves creeping in against the shore broke with gentle plashings as +they touched the rocky base of the headlands; a wonderful serenity lay +over the face of the earth, and all between the land and horizon seemed +a blank and dreaming space of water. + +"We are sure to have a fine night," Dorothy had just said, as she +looked out at the sea and sky. + +"H-m-m," murmured Mary, warningly, and with a quick glance at 'Bitha, +who seemed to be poring intently over a small book she had taken from +her pocket. + +"What are you reading, 'Bitha?" Dorothy asked; and the little girl came +close beside her. + +It was Aunt Lettice's "Church Book;" and on the titlepage was:-- + + "A NEW VERSION OF + the + PSALMS + of + DAVID, + fitted to the Tunes ufed in the Churches: + With feveral Hymns + Out of the + Old and New Teftaments. + By John Barnard, + Paftor of a Church in Marblehead." + + +In the back part of the book was the music of several tunes such as +were used at that time in the churches; and amongst them was one known +as + +"Marblehead." + +[Illustration: music score] + +* Copied literally from publication "printed by J. Draper for T. +Leverett in Cornhill 1752." + + +Good Parson Barnard had years since been laid away in his grave on the +old Burial Hill, which rose higher than all the land about, as though +Nature were seeking to lift as near as might be to the skies the dead +committed to her care. + +The quaint child seemed to delight in pondering over these hymns, many +of which were past her comprehending; and the long s, so like an f, led +her to make many curious blunders when trying to repeat the words,--a +thing she was always proud to be asked to do. + +Once she had insisted upon being told why it was that saints must have +"fits;" and it appeared that she had misread the long s in the +sentence, "The Saints that fit above." + +Her greatest favorite, and the one she often read, was:-- + + "My Heart, like Grafs that's fmit with heat + Withers, that I forget to eat; + By reafon of my conftant Groans + I am reduced to fkin and Bones. + I'm like the Pelican, and Owl, + That lonely in the Deferts ftroll; + As mournful fparrows percht alone + On the Houfe Top, I walk and moan." + + +"Tell me, cousin,--what sort o' bottles does God have?" she now asked, +as Dorothy glanced at the book held against her knee. + +"'Bitha!" Mary exclaimed reprovingly, while Dorothy stared at the +child, and began to laugh. + +'Bitha could never endure to be laughed at; and being very fond of Mary +Broughton, she did not relish her disapproval. And so at this double +attack upon her sensibilities, she looked hurt and a bit angry. + +"If," she demanded, "'t is wicked to say that God has bottles, what +does the Church Book say so for?" And she pointed to the open page. + +"Whatever does the child mean?" asked Dorothy of Mary, as she took the +book into her own hands. + +"There,--right there!" was 'Bitha's triumphant retort. "Read for +yourself!" And she trailed a small finger along the lines,-- + + "Thou hast a book for my complaints, + A bottle for my Tears." + + +"There!" the child repeated. "You see 't is so. Why should God keep +bottles in Heaven,--and what sort would He keep?" + +"I think you will know more about such things when you grow older," was +Dorothy's irresponsive answer; and she handed the book to Mary, while +her dancing eyes glinted with topaz hues caught from the sunshine +without. + +"You are an odd child, 'Bitha," Mary said, smiling in spite of herself +as she read the lines. + +"That is what I am always told when I ask about anything," the little +girl pouted. + +Before any reply could be made to this general accusation a shadow +darkened the opening of the cave, and looking up, all three sprang to +their feet with exclamations of dismay. + +A vivid gleam of scarlet shut away the daylight, and a pair of sea-blue +eyes, set in an olive-hued face, were looking at them with much +curiosity. + +The two older girls stood speechless, facing the intruder, whose gaze +wandered with respectful curiosity over the regal form and gold-brown +hair of the one, whose mouth was decidedly scornful, as were also her +steady blue eyes, which regarded him fearlessly, despite her quaking +heart. + +Then the new-comer's eyes turned to the smaller figure; and a flash of +admiration came into them as his hand stole to his head and removed its +covering, while he said with unmistakable courtesy, "Do not be alarmed, +I beg of you,--I mean no harm." + +"What do you want?" Mary Broughton demanded, seeming in no wise +softened by his gentle bearing. + +"Only your good-will," he replied, with a smile that showed beautiful +teeth. + +She flashed a scornful glance in return. + +"Good will!" she repeated. "That is something we have not in our power +to give one who wears a coat the color of yours." She spoke defiantly, +looking the young man squarely in the face. + +"Such words, uttered by such lips, almost make me coward enough to +regret the color," he said good-naturedly, and as though determined not +to take offence. + +With this he took a step or two inside the cave; and small 'Bitha, +dismayed at the near approach of the scarlet-clad form, clung tightly +to Dorothy's gown, pressing her face into its folds. + +"Speak him fair, Mary," Dorothy whispered, apprehending possible danger +from her friend's want of discretion. + +But Mary did not hear, or else she did not care to heed, for she said: +"Neither your raiment, nor aught that concerns you, can matter to us. +This is our property you are trespassing upon; and I bid you begone, +this moment." + +"You are surely lacking in courtesy, mistress," he replied, still +smilingly. + +The words were addressed to Mary, but his glowing eyes were fixed upon +Dorothy, who was still standing with her arms about 'Bitha. The color +was coming and going in her cheeks, and something in the big eyes told +him that a smile was not far away. + +"We have no courtesy for British soldiers," was Mary's haughty answer +to his imputation; and there was an angry tapping of her foot upon the +shell floor. + +He shrugged his shoulders, and turning more directly away from Mary, +now spoke to Dorothy. + +"I was only wandering about the shore," he declared, looking at her as +though pleading for her good-will, "and hearing voices as I stood on +the rocks above, I made bold to find out from whence they came." + +Mary had not taken her eyes from his face, and now she was quick to +answer him. + +"Well," she said, before Dorothy could speak, "having found where the +voices came from, you'd best go on about your own affairs and leave us +to ours." + +"And what if I refuse?" he asked quickly, a flash coming from his eyes +as though she had at length nettled him. + +"I should try to tumble you over the rocks at your back," she answered +with sudden anger; and she stepped toward him as if to carry out her +threat. + +He moved back hastily, and then, missing his footing on the slippery +granite, fell over backwards down the rocks. + +Dorothy's shriek was echoed shrilly by little 'Bitha, while Mary stood +as though transfixed, looking at the opening through which the young +man had disappeared. + +Dorothy was the first to find her voice. "Mary," she cried in +terrified reproach, "you have made him fall into the water, and perhaps +he will drown. Whatever shall we do?" + +Mary did not reply, but speeding to the entrance of the cave, looked +out over the uneven ledges. + +The Britisher was lying, apparently unconscious, only a short distance +below her, his shoulders caught in a deep seam of the rocks, while the +rest of his body lay along a narrow ledge a few feet lower. + +"There he is," she said, turning a white face to Dorothy,--"lying there +in the rocks." + +Putting 'Bitha aside, Dorothy came and looked down. + +"See the blood on his face!" she exclaimed wildly. "'T is coming from +a cut on the side of his head. Oh, Mary, I'm afraid you have killed +him!" + +Mary started to reply; but Dorothy had already sprung past her through +the mouth of the cave, and was flying down the rocks to where the +wounded man lay. + +Tearing the silken kerchief from about her neck, she knelt beside him +and endeavored to wipe the blood from his face, while Mary watched her +in silence from above, with 'Bitha clinging to her, and crying softly. + +"I must have some water, Mary," said Dorothy, who saw that the blood +came from a cut in the side of the young man's head, "and I want +another kerchief. Throw down yours." + +Mary, without replying, tossed down her own kerchief, but without +removing her eyes from the white face beneath her. + +Dorothy ran to the sand-beach near by, and, having dabbled her bloody +kerchief in the water, hurried back; then laying it folded upon the +wound, she bound it fast with the one Mary had thrown her, lifting the +sufferer's head as she did this, and holding one of his broad shoulders +against her knee, while her nimble fingers deftly tied the knots. + +Scarcely had she finished when she was startled, but no less relieved, +to hear a long, quivering sigh come from his lips; and her color +deepened as she looked into his face and met his opening eyes gazing +wonderingly into her own. Then they wandered over her bared neck and +throat, only to return to her eyes, dwelling there with a look that +made her voice tremble as she said, "We are sorry you are hurt, sir; I +hope it is nothing serious." + +He made no reply, and, after a moment's pause, she asked, "Do you feel +able to stand on your feet?" + +Still he did not answer, but gave her that same intent, questioning +look, as if gazing through and beyond the depths of the eyes above him. + +As she stammeringly repeated her inquiry, he sighed heavily, and seemed +to shake his dreaming senses awake, for, raising himself a little, he +passed his shapely brown hand over his bandaged head, and laughed, +albeit not very mirthfully. + +"The other fair young dame must be rejoiced at my mishap," he said, +"but--I thank you for your care. I seem to have done something to my +head, for it feels like a burning coal." And he touched the bandage +over the wound. + +"It is the salt water, getting into the cut," Dorothy explained, as he +rose slowly and stood before her. "I am very sorry it is so painful; +but it will stop the bleeding." + +"As it was you who placed it there, I like it to burn," he said in a +tone to reach her ears alone. "But I'll not forget, even when the pain +ceases." And he looked down into her face in a way that made her eyes +droop. + +"I regret very much, sir, that you were injured," said Mary Broughton, +her voice coming from over his head. + +He glanced up at her and bowed mockingly. Then stooping to regain his +hat, he said, bending his eyes on Dorothy, "Tell me the name I am to +remember you by." + +She did not answer; and he stood looking at her as though awaiting her +pleasure. + +"That can be no matter," she said at last, and in a very low voice. + +"Ah, but it is--a very great matter," he exclaimed eagerly, laying a +hand on her arm, as she turned away to climb up to the cavern. + +Some inward force seemed to be impelling her, and scarcely aware of +what she was saying, she murmured her own name, and he repeated it +after her. + +This brought a still deeper color to her cheeks; but as if remembering +all she had so strangely forgotten in the presence of this enemy of her +country, she pushed away his detaining hand, and passed quickly up the +rocks to where Mary was standing. + +The young man said nothing more, but looked up at the two; then lifting +his hat, he turned and walked slowly away. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +He had scarcely gone when the two girls made haste to leave the cave +and return to the house. + +"'T is most unfortunate for us, Dot, that he found the cave, or that +all this should befall," said Mary, as they went down the rocks. "You +know what we have to do to-night; and it may make our work dangerous, +now that he has been here." + +A soft whistle interrupted Dorothy's reply; and looking up, they saw +the lean visage of Johnnie Strings, who was perched upon the rocks +above the cave they had just left. + +Having attracted their attention, the pedler made haste to join them. + +"Well, I snum!" he exclaimed. "Mistress Mary, whatever was the +Britisher seekin' about here, an' talkin' about? What ailed his head, +all tied up, like 't was hurt?" + +"He said he heard us talking, and came to see who it was," small 'Bitha +took it upon herself to explain, "and Mary Broughton pushed him down +the rocks." + +Johnnie began to laugh, but Dorothy turned to the child and said, +"'Bitha, you know that it is not true, for he stepped backward himself, +and fell over." + +"Yes; but 't was Mary made him," 'Bitha insisted. "And, 'though I was +sorry to have him hurt, I was glad Mary made him go away." + +"Were you there all the time, Johnnie Strings, and never came nigh to +help us?" demanded Mary, indignantly. They were now walking along +together, for Johnnie seemed inclined to accompany them to the house. + +"Nay, nay, mistress," he declared emphatically, but still grinning, as +though vastly pleased. "But I should say ye needed no help from me to +frighten away redcoats. I only came up as I heard Mistress Dorothy say +you'd made him fall into the water. Then I sat an' watched her tie up +his head,--more 's the pity; for belike he'll only use it to hatch more +deviltry for his soldiers to carry out hereabouts." + +"Do you know who he is?" inquired Dorothy, her face taking on a little +more color. + +"Yes, mistress,--he is a dragoon. I saw him over at Salem t' other +day. They call him Cornet Southorn; an' I only hope he don't get to +know my face too well." Johnnie winked as he said this, and his voice +had a note of mystery. + +"I don't believe he would ever harm us," said Dorothy, paying no +attention to the pedler's anxiety concerning himself. + +Johnnie's eyes fastened upon her glowing face with a look of surprise +as he remarked grimly, "He's a Britisher, an' our sworn enemy." + +On the porch of the house they found Joseph Devereux, who listened with +frowning brows while the girls told him of their adventure. + +"Go within, child, to the grandame," he bade 'Bitha, when they had +finished; and as soon as she was gone he said to the pedler, "Now, +Strings, you may, or may not, know aught o' the work in hand for the +night." + +The pedler nodded understandingly. "Me an' Lavinia Amelia jogged a bit +o' the mornin' down road with the party from here, an' I was reckonin' +to offer my help, should it be needed. I was on my way this very +mornin' to tell ye that Master Broughton an' the rest thought I'd +better have some of our own men 'round hereabouts, handy for the powder +party to-night." + +"'T is best that you do so, as matters have turned out. And 't is +wiser that you be trusted to give the signals to the 'Pearl,' for a +safe landing o' the stuff, and that Mary and Dorothy be left out o' the +matter altogether. 'T is no work for women to risk, with the British +soldiery skulking about the place." + +The day passed without event, save that a number of men--mostly brawny, +weather-beaten sailors--came to the house, to go away again after a +private converse with Joseph Devereux. + +Johnnie Strings was about the place all day,--now wandering down to the +beach to look out over the wide expanse of ocean, as he whittled +unceasingly at a bit of stick and whistled softly to himself, or else +sitting on the steps of the porch, telling wonderful stories to 'Bitha. +But wherever he was, or what doing, his keen little eyes were always +roving here and there, as though on the lookout for something +unexpected. + +It was evident that he was nervous and ill at ease; and this, for +Johnnie Strings, was a new thing. + +Toward sunset he arose from the porch steps and gave a great sigh, as +of relief that the day was ended. Then, without a word to any one, he +tramped off in the direction of the Neck. + +"'T is as well," he muttered to himself, "to see what the devils be +doin', an' if they be like to suspect what is goin' on about 'em." + +The sunset was of marvellous beauty. It was as if all the golds, +purples, and scarlets of the hour had been pounded to a fine dust, and +this was rolling in from over the ocean in one great opaline mist. + +The waves, curling in to break upon the sands of Riverhead Beach, +seemed to be pouring out flames and sparks; while the quieter waters of +Great Bay, on the other side of the causeway, looked as though shot +through with long, luminous rays of light, that slanted athwart the +mists of prismatic coloring, to withdraw swiftly now and again, like +search-lights seeking to probe the clear water to its uttermost depths. + +But the far-off eastern horizon held aloof from all this glory. It +stood out like a wall of pearl and cold gray, with no sail showing +against it to Johnnie Strings' sharp eyes, as he took his way across +the narrow strip of causeway that left the Devereux estate behind, and +led to the Neck and the enemy's camp. + +The pedler knew nothing of the passion called love, else he would never +have been so lacking in shrewdness as to formulate the scheme now +working in his mind. And this, notwithstanding the suspicion that had +shot through his wide-awake brain at the way he had seen Cornet +Southorn looking into the downcast face of Dorothy Devereux, and had +noted later her words in his defence. + +His present idea--and one that had been gathering force all day--was to +see the young officer, and while pretending to have come solely to +inquire as to his injury, to so lead the talk as to impress upon his +mind the needlessness of watching the Devereux place or household, +which he should be made to understand consisted only of the women-folk +and one enfeebled old gentleman,--the son being away in Boston. + +And now, as he neared the enemy's quarters, he chuckled to himself at +the cleverness of his scheme. + +The British troops had taken possession of the entire Neck, occupying +several large warehouses standing near the end, and appropriating even +the buildings used by the lighthouse-keeper and his wife, who, with her +two children and as many of her most precious possessions as she could +carry, had gone across the bay to abide with friends in the town. + +Johnnie Strings knew this, and gritted his teeth in silent rage as he +saw a group of redcoats standing around a fire where they were cooking +some of the good woman's chickens for their evening meal. + +They hailed him good-naturedly, and invited him to join them, several +of the soldiers recognizing him as one from whom they had purchased +certain things necessary for their comfort. + +But he declined their offer, and pulling his hat well over his +forehead, the better to conceal his features, went on beyond to another +group, and demanded to be taken to the presence of Cornet Southorn, +speaking in a way to imply that he had an important message for that +officer. + +He was ushered at once into the front room of the lighthouse-keeper's +abode, where, upon a settle drawn near the window overlooking Great +Bay, sat the personage he desired to see. + +The young man's head was still bandaged, and the table before him with +food and dishes upon it was evidence of his having supped alone; this +confirming what Johnnie Strings had suspected,--that the soldiers upon +the Neck were at present under the charge of Cornet Southorn. + +Captain Shandon, who should have been there,--an elegant fop, high in +favor with the Governor,--was sure to avoid any rough service, such as +this, preferring to remain until the last moment in Salem, where better +fare, both as to food and wines, to say naught of the gentler sex, was +to be had. + +Johnnie Strings stood in the shadow, without removing his hat, as +Cornet Southorn demanded pleasantly enough to know his business. + +"I came to see how your head was doin' at this hour o' the day, young +sir," the pedler answered in an obsequious tone. + +As the last two words came from his lips, the officer scowled. He was +only five-and-twenty, and looked still younger; and he was boyish +enough to resent any familiarity grounded upon his seeming youth. + +"Have a care, old man, as to how you address His Majesty's officers," +he said with some severity, accompanied by a pompousness illy in +keeping with his frank, boyish face. + +"I meant no harm, Cornet Southorn," the pedler replied in an apologetic +way. "I saw ye over at Salem t' other day, when I was peddlin' my +wares there; an' I've been all day at the house o' Mistress Dorothy +Devereux, the young lady who tied up your hurt head this mornin'. And +so"--here Johnnie smiled knowingly--"I came to see if ye were any the +worse for your fall, which might have been a bit o' bad luck, had not +the ledge caught ye an' held ye from slippin' into the sea." + +The young man's manner changed at once. + +"Did Mistress Dorothy Devereux send you to inquire?" he asked eagerly. + +"She send me?" said the pedler cautiously, and lowering his voice. +"Lawks! 't is well her old father don't hear ye; 'though sure he be +that feeble he's good for little but tongue fight, an' the only son be +away to Boston for this many a day. An' that," he went on to say +quickly, seeing that the young man was about to speak, "is one reason +why 't is well for me to be about the place till the brother cares to +come home, with all those women-folk there, an' no man but the old +father, who is feeble, as I've said. An' 't is not very safe for them, +who be easily frighted by strange men comin' 'round, 'specially +soldiers." + +This was a long speech for Johnnie to make, and he watched narrowly its +effect upon the young officer. This was soon apparent, for he said at +once, "You have done well to tell me of this, and I'll see to it that +none of my men cause any annoyance to the ladies." + +He fell so neatly into the trap that Johnnie Strings could scarcely +keep from laughing outright; but all he said was--and very meekly: "Ye +be most kind, sir, an' I'll tell Mistress Dorothy what ye say. An' +I'll tell her as well that your head be none the worse for its thumpin' +on the rocks." With this he backed toward the door. + +"No, no," said Southorn, "my head is all right. But come back, won't +you,--come and have something to drink before you go?" And he pounded +vigorously on the table. + +But Johnnie declined, with many thanks, asserting that he never drank +anything,--a statement fully in accord with his fictitious story +concerning the Devereux household. But he reckoned upon having +accomplished his purpose, and so bowed himself out, just as a red-faced +orderly appeared in response to his officer's summons. + +"Never mind, Kief," said the latter, as the soldier stood stiffly in +the doorway awaiting his orders. "I don't need you now." Then, as the +man saluted and turned to go, he asked, "Who is that fellow who just +left? Do you know?" + +"Johnnie Strings, sir, the pedler; 'most everybody knows 'im 'twixt +Boston town and Gloucester." + +"Ah, yes, I've heard of him before. That is all, Kief; you may go." + +As soon as he was alone, Kyrle Southorn, Cornet in His Majesty's +Dragoons, bethought himself of how strangely lacking he had been in +proper dignity during his brief interview with this humble pedler; and +a feeling of sharp anger beset him for a moment as he took himself to +task for his unofficerlike demeanor and manner of speech. + +Then came a mental picture of the distracting face he had seen that +same morning; he seemed to be looking once more into the girl's eyes, +and feeling the soft touch of her little hands about his head. + +He recalled all this, and gave utterance to a queer, short laugh, as +though in the effort to excuse his folly. + +"Either that girl has bewitched me," he muttered, lying back in his +chair, "or else the cut in my head has been making me addlepated all +day." And he let his gaze wander out through the window, where the +dusk was coming fast, blotting out the fort and town like a dark veil, +pierced here and there by the dimly twinkling lights showing from the +houses. + +"I wonder if she sent the fellow?" his thoughts ran on. "She told me +she was sorry for my being hurt, and she looked it. But the other--the +fair one--she was a tartar." And he laughed again at the recollection +of Mary Broughton's angry blue eyes and dauntless bearing. + +"From what I've seen of these folk," he said, now half aloud, "it will +be no easy matter to suppress their meetings and make them obey His +Majesty's laws. They seem not to know what fear or submission may +mean." Then, after pondering a few minutes, "I wonder if it would not +be a wise thing for me to call upon this man Devereux, as he is so old +and feeble, and assure him and his women-folk that I will see to it +they be not molested--annoyed in any way? I might see her again,--I +might come to know her; and this would be very pleasant." And now his +thoughts trailed away into rosy musings. + +If Johnnie Strings had not added fresh fuel to the fire already kindled +in the breast of the impetuous young Englishman by Dorothy's sweet face +and pitying eyes,--had he not made it burn more fiercely by giving him +reason to believe that she had sent to inquire for his welfare,--he +might not have thought to carry out his present impulse. + +He was seized by a strong desire to see for himself the place where she +dwelt,--to look upon her surroundings,--to make more perfect the +picture already in his mind, by adding to it the scenes amid which her +daily life was passed. + +Such was the young man's desire; and his was a nature whose longing was +likely to manifest itself by acts, and more especially now, in the very +first heart affair of his life. + +As soon as the guards were posted and the countersign given out, he +discarded his uniform for a fisherman's rough coat, and put on a large +slouch hat, which covered his head, bandage and all. And thus attired, +he set forth alone to visit the scene of his morning's adventure, and +to investigate its surroundings. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +The night was clear, bright, and starlit, with not a wreath of vapor +drifting. The rising wind moaned through the woods about the Devereux +homestead, that loomed, a dark mass, and silent as a deserted house. + +From the shore below came the hoarse roar of the tumbling water, to +mingle with the wailing murmur of the wind; and now and then could be +heard, clear-cut and eerie, the cry of a screech-owl from the woods. + +As evening closed in, Joseph Devereux had ordered that no lights be +shown about the house, lest they might attract the attention of any +straggling soldiers; and he felt assured that this warning would be +sufficient to intimidate the women into the greatest caution. + +As for the men, they were all, even old Leet, out with the party +watching at the "Black Hole,"--a bit of the sea shut in by a wood that +bordered a wide sweep of meadow known as the "Raccoon Lot." It was +here that the expected powder and arms were to be concealed by burying +them in the earth, after being wrapped in oilskin coverings. + +Johnnie Strings had gone alone to the Sachem's Cave, ready to give the +signal. + +The cave was somewhat farther down the shore, and a light shown above +it could be plainly seen from the open sea. + +The rising wind piped softly about the closed window where Mary +Broughton was sitting in the starlight, absorbed in her own anxious +thoughts, until aroused by something unusual in Dorothy's appearance +and manner of moving about. The girl was at the farther side of the +unlit room, and Mary asked her what she was doing. + +A low laugh was the only answer; and upon the question being repeated, +Dorothy came to the window, and Mary saw that she was clad in a +complete suit of boy's clothes. + +The unexpected transition was so startling that for a moment she could +not speak, but sat looking at Dorothy in amazement. + +"Oh, Dot," she then exclaimed, "you should take shame to yourself for +doing such a thing!" + +She could see, even in the gloom, the wilful toss of Dorothy's head, +whose curls were let down and tied back with a ribbon, thus completing +the masculine disguise. + +"Whatever are you thinking about, to play such pranks at a time like +this?" Mary demanded reproachfully. + +"That is just it, Mary," Dorothy replied. She seemed in no wise +abashed, but spoke with perfect seriousness. "I do it because of the +time, and of what is going to happen to-night. Father said 't was not +safe for us to go abroad, because we wore petticoats. Now here is this +old suit Jack outgrew years ago, and I've always kept it to masquerade +in; but to-night it will serve me in a more serious matter. I cannot +stop in the house; I am too anxious about Jack. I want to see him and +the others get ashore in safety; and I've no fear but, dressed in this +way, it will be easy for me to do so." + +"But you must not," Mary protested. "How can you dare to think of such +a thing? Suppose some of the men should recognize you,--and they will +be keeping a sharp lookout for strangers--what would your father say?" +And she began to have thoughts of seeing him, and so frustrating this +wild scheme. + +"I tell you I must go, and will go, Mary; so do not try to prevent me. +I know every inch of ground hereabouts, and can easily keep out of the +way, even should any one try to hinder me. Why will you not go with +me?" + +Dorothy spoke quietly, but very earnestly; and as she finished, she +placed both her hands on Mary's shoulders, as though to compel her +consent. + +Mary hesitated. There was in her own heart a like desire to that of +the younger girl; she, too, wished to get out of doors, and see all +that should take place. But she held herself to be more prudent than +the impulsive Dorothy, and so for a time she demurred with her +inclination. + +But it was only for a time. Dorothy's impetuous arguments fairly swept +her off her balance, as usually happened with any one who was fond of +the girl; and Mary agreed to be her companion. + +It was some minutes after this when the two stole noiselessly down the +back stairway and let themselves out of the door opening toward the +sheds at the rear of the house. As Dorothy locked it on the outside +and put the key in her pocket, she whispered: "We might have bribed +Tyntie to let us out, but 't is as well not to risk getting her into +trouble. I shall tell father all about it to-morrow, and I know of a +certainty he'll not be angry. To be sure, he may scold me a little; +but"--with a low laugh--"I can soon kiss him into good humor again." + +"Don't you think, Dot, it is rather of a shame,--the way you do things, +and then tell your father afterwards?" Mary asked as they walked along. + +"Assuredly not," was the ready answer, "else I might not get so many +chances to 'do things,' as you call it. I never do aught that is +really wrong; I love my father far too dearly for that. But I am +young, and he is old; and that, I suppose, is why we do not think alike +about all matters. He has often said I ought to have been a boy, and I +agree with him; though I dare say I shall be a proper enough old maid +some day. Only," with a laugh, "I cannot quite imagine such a thing." + +"No," said Mary, looking into Dorothy's eyes, bright as the stars that +were now being shut away by the branches of the trees in the woods they +were entering; "no--nor I. But we'd best stop our chattering and use +our eyes and ears. Heavens! what's that?" And she clutched Dot's arm +in sudden fright as a wild cry rang out directly over their heads. + +"Pooh!" said Dorothy, with a laugh, "'t is but an old hoot-owl. If +you'd been in the woods as much as I, you'd not be frightened so +easily." + +They came to a halt at the edge of the timber growth overlooking the +rock peak above the Sachem's Cave, and crouched among the bushes to +watch for the light, keeping a lookout as well upon the sea, for the +first signal from the ship. + +And there they remained, listening to the incessant crying of the +insects in the grass and the rustling of the wind in the trees +overhead, these being mingled with the never-ceasing sound of the sea, +as the breakers of the incoming tide flung themselves against the +boulders with a quavering roar that seemed to pulse the air like great +heart-throbs. + +Presently Mary whispered, "Why not let us go and stop beside Johnnie +Strings?" Then quickly, "Oh, I forgot--the way you are dressed would +make it imprudent." + +"I should not care very much for Johnnie Strings," Dorothy began; but +Mary said hastily,-- + +"Oh, no, Dot, 'twould never do." + +A long silence ensued, broken at length by Mary saying in a tone of +alarm, "Oh, Dot, whatever would we do, if your father went to speak to +you for somewhat, and should not find us in the house at this late +hour?" + +"No fear of such a thing," was the confident reply. "He has made sure +long since that I am abed and asleep." + +It was half-past ten of the clock when the two girls left the house; +and so they reckoned it must be now several minutes after the next hour. + +"Suppose it should be far into the night before the ship comes in +sight," Mary suggested, for she was beginning to feel cramped and +uncomfortable. "Let's not wait for so long a time as that." + +"No, we will not," Dorothy assented with a yawn. But the next moment +she was all alive, with her small fingers holding Mary's arm in a tight +clutch as she whispered excitedly: "Look, Mary--there it is! There was +one light, and 't is gone. Now there are the two; and there comes the +third, as Jack said." + +The girls arose and stood erect in eager interest, looking out over the +water, where, several hundred yards from shore, the lights gleamed and +then disappeared. And now their eyes, accustomed to the gloom, +discerned a slim blackness, as of a man's form, appear on the highest +point of rocks above the cave; and then a soft glow of tremulous light +illumined the darkness. + +While they watched this, they were startled to see a taller figure +spring from the shadows, and a second later the two seemed to melt into +one enlarged blur, as if they were struggling. + +Quick as thought the boyish form beside Mary broke from the bushes and +sped with flying steps toward the peak. + +"Dot--Dot--come back!" cried Mary, regardless now of who might hear +her. "Whatever are you thinking to do?" + +A low but clear reply came to her from over Dorothy's shoulder. + +"The lanterns--they must be put out, else Jack may be hurt!" + +On, on, she flew, with no fear of the peril into which she might be +rushing,--with no heed of her unmaidenly garb. Her mind held but the +one thought,--that the lanterns must be extinguished, for danger +threatened her brother and his companions if they should seek to land +unwarned. + +So absorbed were the men in their fierce wrestling that neither of them +saw nor heard the slight figure that came straight up to them, and +then, dashing at the lanterns, sent them flying into the water beneath. + +Then the larger of the two, catching sight of the intruder, relaxed his +hold on the other; and Johnnie Strings, with a derisive whoop, twisted +his wiry little body from the slackened grip and sped down the rocks +and away into the night. + +"You young rascal, what does all this mean?" demanded Southorn, for he +it was; and seizing the boyish shoulder firmly, he shook the slender +form. + +Dorothy, although greatly overcome by agitation now that her brave deed +was accomplished, thought she recognized the voice that addressed her +so roughly, and was silent from embarrassment. + +"Are you dumb?" the Englishman asked angrily, shaking her again. +"Speak up, you young rebel, or I may try what a salt-water bath will do +for the unlocking of your stubborn tongue." + +"Stop shaking me, you great--brute," Dorothy gasped indignantly. "Have +you no--manners?" + +At sound of the soft-toned voice, Southorn seemed to feel that he was +dealing with no yokel, as he had supposed; and now, peering closely, he +saw that the head of his prisoner was finely shaped, and the features +refined and delicate. + +"If you object to rough treatment, my young friend," he said a little +more gently, "you should not put your nose into such doings as these." +But he still kept a firm hold of the arm and shoulder, as though to +stifle any idea of escape. + +"I should say 't was you who deserved rough usage,--coming onto my +father's land at this hour, and putting your nose into business that +can in no wise concern you." Dorothy had by this time fully recovered +her composure, and being certain as to the completeness of her +disguise, spoke with saucy assurance. + +"Your father's land!" exclaimed the young man, in evident surprise. +"Pray, who is your father?" + +"A gentleman who has no great taste for stranger folk prowling about +his estate." She gave her arm and shoulder a slight twitch, as though +to loosen them from his hold. But this he would not have, although his +voice had a still milder sound as he asked, "Is your name Devereux?" + +"And whether it is or not," she answered, "pray tell me what matters it +to you?" + +"It matters this to me," he said quickly: "that if it is, then I'll let +you off, and will go on my way, although I don't quite like the looks +of the doings I've seen on this rock, and out there on the water." + +"By the Holy Poker!" Dorothy exclaimed, bent upon keeping up the part +she had assumed. "But you talk as if you were the Lord High Cockalorum +himself! Who are you, to say what you do and do not like here, on my +father's premises?" + +"Never mind who I am. Perhaps I can make more trouble for your father +and his household than you are able to understand. But answer what I +have asked, and you'll not be sorry." + +Dorothy could not fail to note the earnestness with which he spoke, nor +the intent look she felt rather than saw in the dim light. But she met +all this with a mocking air and tone as she said, "Since you make it so +worth my while to be kind to my neighbors, how know you but I might see +fit to tell you an untruth, and say my name was Devereux, when it may +be Robinson, or anything else?" + +"If this is your father's estate, then your name must be Devereux," +Southorn asserted; "for the place is owned by one Joseph Devereux, as I +have been told. So there's an end to your telling me anything +misleading. And now answer me this,--know you the one who is called +Mistress Dorothy Devereux?" + +Dot waited a moment before answering. A new scheme had sprung into her +quick-witted brain,--one that promised an effective means of getting +rid of his embarrassing presence, this being likely to interfere +seriously with the landing of the arms and powder, were that still in +contemplation. + +She was wondering, too, what had become of Mary Broughton, and what she +was doing all this time. + +"Answer me," the young Britisher repeated sharply, "do you know her?" +And he gave a shake to the arm he still held. + +"You seem over-fond of shaking folk, sir," she remonstrated. "I wish +you'd let go my arm." And she pulled it impatiently. + +"I will let it go at once, if you'll only tell me what I wish to know." + +"And what may that be?" she asked, with an innocent _sang-froid_ that +plainly angered him. + +"You are a saucy boy," he said impatiently. "You remember well enough +what I asked you. Do you know Mistress Dorothy Devereux?" + +"Aye," was the quick reply; "I know her as well as you know your own +face that you see in the glass every day." She stood rubbing the arm +he had now released, and upon which his grip had been unpleasantly firm. + +"Ah--then she is your sister." He had moved so as to stand directly in +front of the slight figure, whose head reached but half-way up his own +broad chest. + +She looked at him for a second and then burst into laughter. + +"I know you now," she said. "You must be the Britisher she told of +this morning,--the one who came here, and whom Mary Broughton +frightened so badly that he fell over and cut his head." And again the +mocking laugh came from her ready lips. + +"I don't believe your sister told you any such untruth," said the +irritated young man. "I missed my footing, and fell; that was all. I +meant no rudeness, although the lady you name--Mary Broughton, did you +call her?--seemed not to believe me." + +"Mary has but little taste for a redcoat," was the dry retort. + +"And judging from your own tone, you share her taste," he said, now +quite good-naturedly, for he found himself taking a strong liking to +this bright, free-speaking lad. + +"I? Oh, I don't know," was the careless answer. "Do you not think I +am somewhat too young to have much of an opinion upon such matters?" + +He smiled, but without replying. Then Dot came closer to him and said +in a low voice, "At any rate, I am good-natured enough to say I can +show you something that you, being His Majesty's officer, had best know +about." + +"What is it?" the young man asked. He was now looking around for his +hat, which, together with the bandage about his head, had fallen off +during his struggle with the pedler. + +Dorothy's sharp eyes were the first to catch sight of these; and she +picked them up and handed them to him, noting with an odd feeling that +he placed the bandage inside his coat and over his heart. + +"It is something you may or may not care to see," she replied. "Only +I'll warrant you'll be sorry if another reports it first; for I shall +show it to the next Britisher who comes this way." + +"Very well," he said; "let me see it." + +Without further parley, and suspecting a nest of concealed firearms, or +something of the like, he followed her down the rocks, going with slow +caution, while she went more rapidly and soon stood below, waiting for +him. And then, side by side, they set off inland. + +Dorothy, skirting as closely as was prudent the woods where she +reckoned Mary was still hiding, took care to remark to her companion, +in a voice loud enough to reach her friend's ears, that it would not +take over ten minutes to reach their destination, and that then he had +best go his own way. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +Mary Broughton was where Dorothy suspected her to be; and standing well +back among the deeper shadows, she had been straining her eyes to see +all that took place on the rocky platform above the cave. + +She marvelled greatly at the lengthy converse Dorothy seemed to be +holding with the stranger, after Johnnie Strings disappeared over the +side of the rocks in the direction of Riverhead Beach; and she had +started out of the wood, half determined to go and meet the younger +girl, when she saw her leaving the peak. + +A prudent afterthought led her to draw back again when she saw the two +forms swallowed up in the deeper darkness lying at the base of the +rocks. Then, hearing steps coming toward her hiding-place, she was on +the point of calling out, when Dorothy's words came to her ears, and +she remained silent, but still wondering what scheme her friend was +pursuing, and who was the stranger with whom she seemed to be upon such +excellent terms. + +Then came the impulse that she had better find her way to the Black +Hole, and tell the waiting party of what had happened; and acting upon +this, she set out at once. + +She had not gone very far when there came to her the sound of tramping +feet; and hastening to get out of the more open part of the wood, she +drew aside amongst the denser growth. + +She now heard a low-pitched voice singing a snatch of an old song, +trolling it off in a rollicking fashion that bespoke the youth of the +singer,-- + + "We hunters who follow the chase, the chase, + Ride ever with care a race, a race. + We care not, we reck not--" + + +Here the song was silenced by another voice which Mary recognized as +that of Doak, an old fisherman, who growled: "Belay that 'ere pipin', +Bait. Hev ye no sense, thet ye risk callin' down the reg'lars on us +with such a roarin'?" + +They were now quite near; and slipping out of the bushes, Mary called +out, "Doak, is that you?" + +"Who be it?" he demanded quickly, while all the other men came to a +halt. + +"It is I--Mary Broughton. Don't stop to question me, but listen to +what I have to tell you." + +She told them in the briefest possible way of what had happened. And +in doing this, she deemed it wiser to tell them of Dorothy's disguise, +being fearful of what might befall the girl should the men chance to +meet her,--more especially as they would now be on the lookout for the +stranger, who was doubtless an ill wisher to their scheme. + +Doak chuckled mightily over it all, particularly at Mary's description +of Dorothy kicking the lanterns off the rock; and several of the other +men gave hoarse utterance to their admiration. + +"Ev'ry natur' be fitted for its own app'inted work," remarked old Doak, +dogmatically. "If Mistress Dorothy had not allers been darin', by the +natur' o' things, she'd never a ketched holt o' the right rope so true +an' quick as she hev this night,--God bless her!" + +Here a younger voice broke in impatiently with, "But, Doak, we ought +n't to stand here chatterin' like this." + +"True, true, Tommy Harris," the old man replied good-naturedly. "But," +turning to Mary, "what shall ye do, Mistress Mary? Hed n't ye best let +one o' the boys tek ye to the house? Ye see we be goin' down to the +shore to Master John an' the rest of 'em, as was 'greed we should as +soon as we saw the 'Pearl' show her light." + +Mary said she preferred to go with them. But the old man shook his +head, and his companions began to move onward. + +"D'ye think 'twould be wise, mistress?" he asked gravely. "Ye see we +don't know jest what sort o' work we may find cut out for +us,--'specially if the man ye saw throttlin' Johnnie Strings were a +British spy, as belike he were, pretty sure." Then he added +impatiently, "I wonder where in tarnation Johnnie hev gone to, thet he +did n't cut back to tell us?" + +"And I am wondering where Dorothy has gone," said Mary, with much +anxiety. + +"I rather guess ye need hev no fear for her, mistress," Doak made haste +to reply. "She be wide awake, I'll bet my head, where'er she be." + +"But it seems so strange a thing that she should go off in such +fashion," Mary said, by no means satisfied with the old man's confident +words. + +"She went 'cause she wanted to go; an' she wanted to go 'cause she saw +work cut out to do, I warrant ye," declared Doak, with whom the girl +had always been a great favorite, since the days he used to take her +and Mary Broughton on fishing excursions in his boat. "But as to ye, +mistress--" + +"It is this way, Doak," she said, interrupting him: "you see I cannot +get into the house until I find Dorothy; for she has the key of the +only door by which I could enter, except I disturbed every one." + +"If ye did thet, Mistress Mary, the father would find out all 'bout the +prankin', eh?" And he chuckled knowingly. + +"And so 't is best," she went on, paying no attention to him, "that I +go along with you until we can see Master John; and he will know what +to do." + +"Very well, Mistress Mary," Doak said; "come 'long o' me, an' 't will +go hard with any man as seeks to molest ye,--though, from what Johnnie +Strings told me o' what ye did to the spyin' Britisher this mornin'--" + +Here he stopped short, both in speech and walking,--for they had been +hurrying to overtake the others, now well in advance--and slapping his +thigh, exclaimed: "I hev it, I hev it! What a blind old fool I be, not +to hev thought o' thet afore! 'T were sure to be the same devil, or +some one he sent, thet ye saw fightin' with Johnnie Strings." + +"Do you think so?" asked Mary, surprised that the thought had not +occurred to her before. "Whatever should make him come back there at +this hour of the night?" + +"Spyin', mistress, spyin', as 't is the only business he an' his +soldiers be sent down to do hereabouts. Who can say how many of 'em be +lyin' 'round this minute, to jump on us?" + +Mary glanced about apprehensively, and moved a little closer to the +sturdy fisherman's side. + +They were now out of the woods, and could discern vaguely in the open +field before them the dark forms grouped near the shore, awaiting some +signal or sign that might bespeak the expected boats. + +Mary and Doak joined the others, and they all stood in silence, +watching the black water, now streaked with a narrow bar of sullen red +from the eastern sky, where, out of a wild-looking cloud-bank, the moon +was just lifting a full, clear disk. + +"Can ye see aught?" muttered one stalwart fellow to his nearest +neighbor,--the two standing near Mary and old Doak. + +"Not I," was the low reply. "Mayhap they won't come at all now, since +seein' the lanterns go out." + +"Whate'er be ye thinkin' on?" chimed in Doak. "Cap'n Brattle hev +brought the stuff down, fast 'nough; an' he won't be for carryin' it +over to Salem, under the Gov'nor's nose. 'T is to be brought here; an' +here, an' nowhere else, hev they got to land it. They'll only be more +on the lookout now--thet's all. They know us to be here, an' all they +hev to do be to get to us. An' get to us they will, 'though the meadow +be grass-grown with redcoats, an' the King hisself 'mongst 'em." + +"D--n the King and all his redcoats!" came hoarsely from another man; +and then the talk was stopped by a faint sound from the water. + +Doak commanded the men to keep perfectly silent, for only the keenest +alertness could catch what the wind now brought to them. It was the +faintest imaginable noise of working oars; and it sent a shudder, like +a great sigh, through the waiting group. + +Mary Broughton felt her pulses thrill as the sound became more +distinct; and she glanced nervously about, and back of her,--at the +dark woods on the one hand, the frowning rock-piles on the other, and +at the sweep of clear meadows in the rear. + +"Draw aside, Mistress Mary, do ye now, please," Doak urged, laying his +hand upon her arm. "Get over there close by the rocks. For if so be +there comes any surprise from the Britishers, 'twill surely be from the +back of us, here; an' in such case ye'll be safe an' clear from 'em, or +from flyin' bullets, if ye get behind the rocks." + +She felt the wisdom of this advice, and silently complied, while he +went forward to the men, now drawn down close to the water's edge. + +The next moment he sent a likely-to-be-understood signal out over the +water. It was the curlew's cry, which he imitated perfectly; and while +it rang out softly, it was clear and penetrating. + +There was a second of silence, save for the wind, and the rippling of +the waves upon the shingle; then came a like cry from out the darkness, +and seeming nearer than had the sound of the oars. + +"Now, then, lads, face 'bout, an' watch afore ye!" Doak commanded, his +voice now strong with excitement; and pushing through them until he +reached the very edge of the water, he sent back another call,--loud, +clear, and fearless in its sound. + +The other men, with faces turned inland, stood with listening ears and +keen eyes, each gripping his gun, ready to repel the onslaught of any +lurking enemy that might be awaiting a favorable moment to swoop down +upon them. + +Following close upon Doak's second call there came the unmistakable +sound of rapidly working oars. Then a sizable lump of dark shadow +showed, speeding toward the beach, and soon defining its shape into +that of a large rowboat. + +Crouched closely against the rocks, and listening with checked +breathing, Mary Broughton almost cried aloud as a step startled her. +Then looking intently at the form drawing near, she recognized it, and +said quickly, with a deep sigh of relief, "Oh, Dorothy!" + +"Yes, Mary--is that you?" The speaker came closer and asked eagerly, +"Are those our own men down there on the shore, and was it the boat +they were signalling with the curlew's cry?" + +"Yes, and the boat is nigh in. But whatever have you been up to, Dot, +and who was the man you went off with, and where is he now?" + +To this fusillade of questions Dorothy only replied with a laugh. Then +she asked in turn, "Where is Johnnie Strings?" + +"No one knows," Mary answered. "'T is old Doak down there with the +men." And she added with a little impatience, "But why don't you tell +me, Dot--what has become of that man?" + +Dorothy laughed once more. "I have been locking him away, out of +mischief; and now he's as safe as if he had stopped where he belonged, +instead of coming to prowl about here at this hour of the night. It +was the Britisher, Mary,--the same one who gave us such a turn this +morning. He mistook me for my own brother, and I improved the chance +to lead him away by the nose." + +"But how?" Mary asked in astonishment. "What do you mean by all this, +and what have you done with him?" + +"I made him think that I could show him somewhat of importance to his +cause; and so I lured him up into father's new cattle-shed, in the +ten-acre lot, and I bolted him in there safely enough, unless he should +manage to break the bar that holds the door. I could not lock it, for +Trent has the key; but I should think the bar was strong enough to hold +the door--at least until the arms be safely landed and stowed away." + +"Then he was all alone?" Mary inquired, still too full of anxiety to +make any present comment upon Dot's exploit. + +"Yes, all alone." + +"What did he say to you?" + +"Say!" Dorothy exclaimed with a little laugh. "Oh, he said a good many +things. He spoke most glibly of Mistress Dorothy Devereux; and he told +me that if I'd say my name was the same as hers, he'd go away, and not +inspect more closely the goings on he had overseen, and which he +admitted were not to his liking." + +"Dot!" And Mary's tone was distinctly reproachful. + +"Well," almost defiantly, "he did say all that, and more too." + +"But," asked Mary, "did he not find you out--that you were a girl +masquerading in boy's apparel?" + +"Not he," with another laugh. "And I trust he never will, after the +hoydenish manner of speech I thought it best to use in keeping up my +character. He took me for a young brother of Mistress Dorothy +Devereux, I tell you." + +"Yes," Mary said musingly, as if to herself, "and I pray no harm may +come of it." + +"Harm!" Dorothy exclaimed, quick in her own justification. "What harm +can come of it? I take it as a most lucky thing that I was able to get +him out of the way. Had I not done so, then you might have had +something to say about harm." + +"He would have been taken prisoner by our men, had he stayed about +here," Mary asserted confidently, "and would have been shot, had he +made any disturbance. And that would have been just what he deserved." +Her usually gentle voice sounded unnaturally hard. + +"Oh, Mary," her friend cried, regardless of who might be within +hearing, "how can you speak so harshly--and he such a handsome young +gallant?" + +"What is it to us, whether he be handsome or ill-favored?" was Mary's +sharp retort. "What interest have you in him?" + +"I should be sorry if he were hurt." And Dorothy's tone was almost +tender by comparison with that of her companion. + +"Shame on you, Dot!" Mary said in a low voice, but quite fiercely. +"How can you talk so, and he a hateful Britisher?" + +But before Dorothy could reply, the sound of a boat's keel grating on +the sand turned their thoughts to different matters. + +"They are in!" exclaimed Dot, exultantly. "And safe!" + +"Aye--safe so far," Mary murmured. She was still uncomfortable, and +suspicious of some danger lurking in the darkness about them. + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +The men were gathered around the boat, shutting it away from the two +girls; and the moon's light, now grown silvery, was touching the group +in a way to make all their movements visible. + +"Mary," said Dorothy, "do you go to the beach and ask Jack to come here +to me. I must tell him somewhat; and then let us go to the house." +And Mary, nothing loath, complied at once. + +A few of the men were rapidly removing the arms and powder, which were +well wrapped in oilskins; and two sailors from the "Pearl" were +waiting, ready to pull out again the instant the cargo was landed. + +Another boat, similarly laden, was approaching the beach; and near it, +in a dory by himself, was the missing pedler. + +Upon escaping from Southorn, he had betaken himself to the causeway, +dragged one of the Devereux dories across from Riverhead Beach to the +open sea on the other side, and then set out to find the incoming boats +and report the recent occurrence. + +This he had done successfully; and John Devereux, now standing among +the men and conversing, with Doak, knew nearly all there was to be +told, while Hugh Knollys was coming in with the second boatload. + +So intent was the young man upon what was going on about him that he +did not see Mary until she had spoken to him; but at sound of her low +voice he turned quickly and came toward her. + +There was sufficient light for her to see the eager gladness in his +face as he stood before her, his broad-brimmed hat in his hand, and the +curling locks blowing riotously about his brows. + +"Mary," was all he said; but his voice was filled with something she +had never heard there before. + +"Dorothy wishes to speak with you at once," she replied, the faint +light giving her courage to keep her eyes upraised to his, for his +voice and manner made her heart tremulous. + +He drew her hand within his arm, and as they turned away from the shore +his other hand stole up and clasped the small soft fingers that rested +so lightly upon his sleeve; and he felt them tremble as his own closed +more tightly about them. + +"Mary," he said once more, and she lifted her face to meet the eyes she +felt were bent upon it. + +His face was shadowed by his hat-brim; but she could feel his heart +beating against the arm he pressed closely to his side, and she could +hear how hard and fast he was breathing. + +Making no answer, she only looked at him, until without a word he bent +his head and kissed her. + +"Why, John!" and her voice was well-nigh choked by mingled +embarrassment and joy. "Dorothy will see you." + +"Aye," he said stoutly; "and I hope she may, and all else in the world +see me doing a like thing many times." + +They had now come to a halt, and he said impetuously: "I cannot wait +another minute, sweetheart, to tell you that I love you; only you +surely knew it long ago. But what I do not know, and must know at +once, is whether my love is returned." + +Her only answer was, "Dorothy is near,--just behind these rocks; come +and speak to her first." + +"Not one step will I go until you tell me what I ask," he declared +firmly. "I have spoken to your father; and I have his consent and +blessing, if you will listen to me. So," pleadingly, "tell me, +Mary--sweetheart; tell me, do you love me well enough to be my wife?" + +A softly breathed "Yes" stole to his ears as Mary bent her head down on +his arm. But he raised the glowing face in his hands, and looked a +long moment at what he saw revealed by the faint light of the stars. + +Then, with a fervent "Thank God!" he bent once more, and laid his lips +on hers; and without another word they passed quickly over the few +yards to the rock-pile, where a boyish figure stood whistling. + +John Devereux started back and exclaimed, "Where is Dorothy? I thought +she was here." + +"I _am_ here, Jack, awaiting your pleasure," a saucy voice replied; and +Mary felt her cheeks burn, for something in Dorothy's tone told her +that her own precious secret was known. + +"Dorothy, what is the meaning of all this?" her brother asked, giving +her the full name, and trying to speak with severity. All that Johnnie +Strings had told him was of a boy tossing the lanterns over the rocks, +as indeed the pedler supposed to be the fact. + +"See here, Jack," she said earnestly, "don't scold me now. You can do +it just as well to-morrow, and Mary and I wish to get to the house. +But before I go I must tell you there is a certain gentleman locked in +the new shed, in the ten-acre lot; and when the powder and arms are +safe, you had best get him out." + +"Who put him there?" he asked in amazement. + +"I did," was the answer. + +"You, Dot--what for?" + +"To keep him from finding out what you had rather he did not know. +Only you must promise not to let him be hurt, and that you will release +him as soon as you unfasten the door." + +"Who is he--do you know?" And he did not speak so good-naturedly as +his sister would have liked. + +"He is a redcoat,--one of the soldiers quartered over on the Neck," +said Mary Broughton, now speaking for the first time. "He came upon +Dot and me at the Sachem's Cave this morning, and he has been prowling +about the place to-night. 'T was he who surprised Johnnie Strings, and +caused Dot to put out the signal-lights." + +Mary spoke with animation, almost anger, for she felt a bit indignant +at Dorothy's apparent lack of what she herself considered to be a +proper view of the affair. + +"Aha," muttered her lover, his voice full of sharp suspicion. "Did +this man hold much converse with you this morning, Mary?" + +"No, very little," she replied uneasily; and Dorothy added with a +laugh,-- + +"I fancy he had a bit more than he enjoyed." + +"Johnnie Strings told me of your frightening a Britisher so that he +nearly tumbled into the sea," John said, speaking in an approving way. +"And so this is the same fellow, is he? But how comes it, Dot, that +you found the chance to lock him away?" + +"'T is a long story," his sister replied, with a touch of petulance, +"and Mary and I must get back to the house. Only,"--and her voice +softened again--"won't you promise me, Jack, that you will not permit +him to be injured? I could never sleep again if I thought I was the +cause of any ill befalling him." + +She was almost in tears; and knowing this, her brother hastened to say, +"There, there, Dot! You've too tender a heart, child. But your mind +may rest easy, for I myself will let the man out as soon as 't is +prudent to do so. He shall go his way for this once, but I'll not +promise as to what may befall should he see fit to repeat such a bit of +business." + +The moon was rising higher, and its light becoming clearer and more +silvery. The boats were unloaded, and the sailors were pulling them +back to the ship, when the girls saw Hugh Knollys coming toward them +from the beach; and at sight of him they turned to flee. + +"I must go to the house with you two, Mary;" and John Devereux laid a +detaining hand upon her arm, bidding Dorothy wait a moment. + +"No need for that," she said quickly, fearing that Hugh might accompany +them; "we are not afraid." + +But John called out to Knollys,--speaking very carefully, for it still +seemed as though each rock or bush might be concealing a spying +enemy--asking him to go to the Black Hole in charge of the men, as he +himself must first hurry to the house, to rejoin them later. + +Hugh turned back, and the three took their way through the woods, +Dorothy keeping ahead and the others walking closely together just +behind her. + +"Mary," John said presently, and his voice was tremulous as a woman's, +"I can scarcely believe it." + +"Hush!" she whispered warningly. + +But pressing her hand, he said, "Dot knows all about it." And he +laughed softly, while Mary's cheeks burned, and she was silent. + +Then he added: "You see, I have been under such a strain, so filled +with anxious thoughts, that I well-nigh lost my senses when I landed on +the beach, and knew you were near me, and heard your voice. Then, +afterwards, I was so shocked by Dot's prank when I came upon her by the +rocks, that it is just coming to me what the child has done. It was a +brave deed; and but for her doing it, who can say what might have +happened--brave little girl!" + +The slight figure was too far ahead of their lagging footsteps to be +reached by his words. Indeed they could not see her at all through the +gloom of the woods, although they could hear now and again her light +footfall, or the cracking of a twig as she stepped upon it. + +"She thinks you are displeased with her prank," Mary said, "and I'm +sure she feels very unhappy about it." + +"She shall not feel so very long," he replied heartily. + +They found her waiting for them at the back door of the house, ready to +put the key into the lock. But before she could do this her brother +put his arms about her and kissed her fondly. + +"Brave little girl!" he whispered. "'T is you who have saved the arms +and powder for the town." + +To his amazement she burst into tears and clung to him, sobbing and +trembling like a child. + +"Why, Dot, whatever is it?" he asked anxiously, lowering his voice so +as not to arouse the inmates of the house. + +"She is suffering from a reaction, I think," Mary said softly; "but it +will soon pass away." + +But Dorothy was of too dauntless a spirit for her brother to be content +with this explanation; and holding her close in his arms, he went on +assuring her that he was not displeased, but that she had done a brave +act, and that every one would say the same if the news of it should get +abroad. + +"You must hush your sobs," he said, "and go within, and to bed, where +you should have been hours ago. I will find Hugh Knollys, and we'll go +together and release your prisoner." + +All this, whispered in her ear while her face was buried over his +heart, quieted her at last; and she drew herself away from him as she +said with a hysterical little laugh, "Think of the picture I am making +for Mary,--a big boy crying in your arms!" + +"You should have been a boy, Dot," he whispered, while she was opening +the door; "you've a heart brave enough to do credit to any man." + +"And, pray, may not women lay claim to having brave hearts?" queried +Mary Broughton, with dignified coquetry. + +"Aye, most truly; I should say you and Dot had proved that already. +And now, good-night, sweetheart." And to Mary's consternation, he +leaned over and kissed her, hurrying away as she hastily followed +Dorothy into the house. + +No word was spoken as the two girls felt their way cautiously through +the pitchy darkness to their rooms above stairs. + +The two apartments communicated; and the front windows of each +overlooked the meadow lands and woods, together with a far-reaching +expanse of the sea. + +Aunt Penine's, as well as Aunt Lettice's and little 'Bitha's, rooms +were in the wing of the house, on the opposite side; while those of +Joseph Devereux were far to the front, and looked out directly upon the +grounds and wooded land that ran down to the beach, where the water +stretched away to the horizon. + +They went directly to Dorothy's chamber; and it was so bright with the +moonlight now pouring through the unshuttered windows that they needed +no candle. + +As soon as the door was closed, Mary said, "Dorothy, I have somewhat to +tell you." And she put her arms lovingly about the boyish form, while +the solemn tenderness of her tone bespoke what she had to reveal. + +"You've no need to tell," replied Dorothy, speaking in a way to so +disconcert Mary that she said uneasily,-- + +"Oh, Dot, I thought you'd be glad it was so." + +At this, Dorothy threw her arms impulsively around the other girl's +neck. + +"I am glad, Mary," she exclaimed; "I am very, very glad. Only, I knew +long ago that you and Jack loved one another." Then, as she hugged her +closer, "But you won't love me less for what has befallen?" + +Her voice sounded as though the tears were coming again. + +Mary tightened her hold upon the slight form, and kissed the upturned +face upon which the moonbeams were resting. + +"Love you less, Dot?" she declared; "it only makes me love you far more +than before; and I have always loved you very dearly, as you well know." + +"And I want to be loved, Mary! I feel so lonely!" And now she was +crying once more. + +"Why, Dot," Mary asked, almost in alarm, "whatever ails you, crying +twice in the one evening? I scarce know what to think of you." + +"I wish I could see my father," Dorothy sobbed; "I wish I could see him +this minute. He always knows me and understands me, no matter what I +do or say." + +"You are just worn out, poor child," said Mary, in a soothing, motherly +fashion; "and no wonder, with all you've gone through this night. And +now," she added with decision, "I shall put you straight to bed, this +very minute. I want to go myself, but cannot until you become quiet." + +With this she began tugging at the fastenings of the unfamiliar +garments; and Dorothy, despite her tears, commenced to laugh, but in a +nervous, unnatural way. + +"Never mind," she said; "I will do all that, Mary, for I understand it +better than you. And," straightening herself, "I'll stop crying. I +never knew I could be such a fool." + +Long after Mary was sleeping, Dorothy was still lying awake listening +for her brother's return. She knew she would hear him, for his room +was just across the hall, opposite her own. + +As she nestled among the lavender-scented pillows, visions would keep +coming to her of the handsome face she had seen that morning, and again +that very night. The purple-hued eyes, edged so thickly with swart +curling lashes, seemed to be looking into her own, as when she held his +wounded head pillowed against her knee, while his voice yet thrilled in +her ears as had never any man's before. + +And then came the realization that this man was her country's avowed +enemy,--a hated Britisher! + +Her conscience smote her as she thought of the trick she had played +him, recalling how trustingly he had entered the dark shed, and how +silent he had been at first, when she slammed the door and shot the +wooden bar across. Then how fiercely he had seemed to fling his broad +shoulders against the door of his prison, making her fear that he would +be able to come forth and visit his wrath upon the audacious young +rebel who had served him such a trick. + +But she could find some comfort in thinking of how she had stolen back, +and called him by name, at which the blows became stilled; and of how +she had then told him to have no fear for his safety, as in a short +time he would be released, to go where he pleased. + +Mary, did she but know all these thoughts, would be angry, and call her +unfaithful to the cause. And Jack, and her father--what would her +father say to her? + +She had never in her life feared him. But now a quaking dread beset +her as to what the morrow might bring from him of censure and +displeasure. And at this she began to cry again--softly, but bitterly. + +Whether the girl knew it or not, her nerves had by this time become +strained to the uttermost; and sleep, the blessed healer that comes so +readily to the young and healthful, was beginning to woo her away from +all her troubles, when a slight noise startled her into new wakefulness. + +Listening intently, she heard her brother enter his room; and she heard +him say something to their father, who was passing on toward his own +apartments. + +Rising hastily, Dorothy thrust her little bare feet into some wool +slippers and drew a bed-gown over her night-dress; then she stole +softly across the passage to her brother's room. + +The door was ajar; and after tapping gently, she put up her small hands +to shield her eyes from the glare of the candle he held, as he came to +answer her summons, looking wonderingly out to see who it might be. + +"Dorothy!" he exclaimed, as he saw the little yellow-robed figure, and +the rumpled curls and drooping face. Then, stretching out his hand, he +drew her within the room and closed the door. + +"Dot, why are you not asleep at this hour? You will surely make +yourself ill." He crossed over to a small table and set down the heavy +silver candlestick, the light flaring in his weary, but always handsome +face, now looking all the darker from contrast with his snowy +linen--for he was in his shirt-sleeves. + +He came to her once more; and as she did not speak, he took her hands +from before her face and held them lovingly. "What is it, child--what +is troubling you?" + +"Mary has told me, Jack, and I wanted to tell you that I am glad." And +two great tears stole from her long lashes and ran down the rounded +cheeks, whose bloom was paler than he had ever seen it. + +"And is that the face you wear, Dot, when you are joyful?" he asked +gently, but with a smile. "What is it, child?" he urged, as she did +not speak. "I am so happy to-night, and I cannot bear to see you in +tears; it hurts me." + +"Ah, no, Jack," she cried, throwing her arms around his neck. "I don't +want to hurt you." + +He held her fast, and laid his cheek against her own, as he said +softly: "Is it that you are jealous of me, or of--Mary? Is it that you +think I cannot love her and love you as well?" + +"No, no! Oh, no! It is n't that, Jack. I know you love me, and will +always, as long as I live--just as I love you. I am happy to have Mary +for my own sister; but I--I--" And she broke down again. + +"Now see here, little girl," he said, stroking the round white arm her +fallen-back sleeve left bare; "don't fret in your heart about to-night, +or whatever you may have done. It is never any use to worry over what +is past and gone. 'T is not a maidenly act, Dot, for a girl to array +herself in men's garments, and you must never do it again. But we must +all admit that 't was a lucky thing you did it this night; and the help +you rendered us far more than makes up for your own thoughtlessness. +So you need fear no blame on account of it." + +"Does father know?" she asked nervously. + +"Not as yet; but I will tell him the whole story of your bravery, so +he'll not misjudge you." + +She raised her face and kissed him; then after a little hesitation she +asked shyly, "And the Britisher I locked in the shed,--did you release +him, as you said you would?" + +Jack smiled down into the upturned face. "He was gone when Hugh and I +got there; and the bar was wrenched off, sockets and all." + +"He is strong," Dorothy said, a light coming to her eyes that her +brother did not see; and she laughed softly. + +"Well, had he the strength of Samson, he'd best take heed to himself +how he comes prowling about my father's premises at unseemly hours." + +He spoke with angry emphasis; and Dorothy was glad the two had not met. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +The men of the house breakfasted at the usual hour next morning, and +with them were only Aunt Lettice and 'Bitha, Mary Broughton and Dorothy +being permitted to sleep until later, when 'Bitha, despatched by her +grandmother, went to arouse them. + +She first awoke Dorothy by kissing her; then she asked with childish +solicitude, "Why do you lie abed so late, Cousin Dot,--are you ill?" + +The big dark eyes gazed at the child in bewilderment, and then came a +flash of recollection. + +"Ill--no. Where is Mary, and why are you here, 'Bitha?" + +"Mary is still asleep, and grandame sent me to wake both of you." Then +she looked curiously at the carelessly heaped up masculine garb on a +nearby chair, and asked, "Are those Cousin Jack's clothes, Dot, and why +did he leave them here?" + +Dorothy's color deepened. "Never mind, now, 'Bitha," she said hastily, +"but go and awaken Mary; then run back to Aunt Lettice, and say we will +be down directly. But stop--where is every one--have you breakfasted +yet?" + +The child laughed. "Long ago," she said. "Cousin Jack and Hugh +Knollys have gone off to town on horseback, and Uncle Joseph is away on +the farm somewhere." + +Dorothy's movements were lacking in their usual youthful vitality as +she moved listlessly about the room. She stood in front of her +mahogany dressing-case, looking into the tipped-over mirror,--that only +in this way could reflect the face and head surmounting her in no wise +average height--and was brushing out the tangle of curly locks, when +Mary Broughton came into the room, her hair hanging about her like a +veil of gold, reaching almost to her knees. + +"Good-morning, Dot," she said smilingly. "You were so quiet that I +thought you were yet sleeping." And she turned to go back to her own +apartment. + +But Dorothy called out: "Don't go yet! Oh! Mary, do you know I am +dreading so to go downstairs and meet my father. I wonder if he will +be angry at what I did last night? He was never angry with me in all +my life." And she turned her troubled eyes away from the glass, for +which indeed she seemed to have little use, so slight was the note she +was taking of the reflection it showed. + +"I hope not," Mary replied, but her voice had a touch of doubt, "for he +would surely be angry with me as well, for abetting you in what you +did. But you remember what Jack said last night; would not your father +take the same view of the matter?" + +The color deepened in her cheeks as she spoke her lover's name; and +this seemed to bring a new recollection to Dorothy. + +"Oh, Mary," she cried, "I'd clean forgot, for the moment, all that has +befallen." With this she rushed impetuously across the room and caught +Mary about the neck. The latter blushed redder than before, while she +laughingly disengaged Dorothy's arms. Then urging her to hurry and +dress, she hastened back to her own room. + +The two girls had finished breakfast and were out on the porch in front +of the house, when the hearty tones of Joseph Devereux were heard +within, asking Tamson, the red-cheeked housemaid, after her young +mistress. + +"Here I am, father," answered a low, agitated voice; and Dorothy stood +before him, looking quite pale, and with eyes downcast. + +"Come with me, my daughter," he commanded, and led the way into the +library. + +He closed the door after them, and seated himself, while Dorothy +remained standing, her hands loosely clasped and her eyes still bent on +the floor, her attitude being much like that of a culprit before a +judge. + +"Come here, child," and his voice was a trifle unsteady. "Why do you +stand there and look so strangely?" + +For answer, she sank upon her knees before him and laid her face in his +lap; and a grateful thrill went through her as she felt his fingers +stroking her curly head in his usual loving fashion. + +"Ye madcap!" he exclaimed after a short silence. "Whatever possessed +ye?" + +"Oh, father, don't be angry with me!" + +At this, he leaned over, and drawing her into his arms, lifted her to +his knee. + +"Angry with you, my little Dot!" he said. "My precious, brave little +girl, how could I be that, except it were for your risking so +carelessly the life that is so dear to my old heart?" + +All the sternness of his face had given place to an expression of +loving pride. + +"One cannot censure an eagle, my baby," he went on,--"that it be not +born a barnyard fowl or a weak pigeon. It would seem that a higher +power than of poor mortality must have put it into your head and heart +to do what you did last night. And I've no word of blame for your +having togged yourself out in Jack's clothes. Many a heroine has done +a like thing before you. If Joan of Arc had been more like most +womenfolk, no doubt many would have reckoned her more properly behaved, +according to the laws laid down by men for the behavior o' women. But +who dare question the bravery and unselfishness of her deeds? And you, +my baby, were our Joan of Arc last night!" + +All this was balm to her troubled heart. But she could not speak, and +only hugged him more tightly around the neck as she wept on his +shoulder. + +"Here--hoity toity!" he said presently. "What manner o' bravery be +this--crying for naught?" + +She raised her head, but before she could reply, they were both +startled by a noisy trampling of horses in front of the house, and +strange voices coming in through the open windows. + +Hastily wiping away her tears, Dorothy sprang from her father's lap and +ran to look out. + +"Oh, father," she cried, turning to him in dismay, "here be a lot of +British soldiers on horseback! Whatever can they have come for?" + +He hurried out, Dorothy close by his side, to meet face to face at the +open door a tall young officer coming up the steps with much clanking +of sabre and jingling of spurs, while on the driveway were a dozen +mounted troopers, one of whom held the rein of a spirited gray horse. + +The officer raised his hat, and his sea-blue eyes, keen as steel, +looked with smiling fearlessness straight into the lowering face of +Joseph Devereux. Then they changed like a flash, and with swift +significance, as they fell upon the slight figure shrinking close +beside him. + +"Sir," he asked, "are you Joseph Devereux?" + +"As you say," was the calm reply. "And what might an officer of His +Majesty's army want with me?" + +"Only an audience," the young man answered respectfully. "I wish to +assure you, in case of its being needful, of my good will, and of my +desire to see that your person and property are guarded from annoyance +during our stay in your neighborhood." + +The old man frowned, and drew his tall figure to its full height. + +"It would seem a strange chance," he replied haughtily, "that should +put such a notion into your mind, young sir. I've lived here as boy +and man these seventy years and more, and my fathers before me for well +beyond one hundred years; and I 've needed no protection o' my own +rights save such as God and my own townsfolk have accorded me as my +just due." + +"Such may have been the case before now, sir," the officer said, his +eyes still fixed upon Dorothy's blushing face; "but troublesome times, +such as these, have brought changes that should, methinks, make you +take a somewhat different view of matters." + +"The times may be troublesome, as you say; but even should they grow +more so, I have my country's cause too truly at heart to desire favors +from its enemies." + +"I am an enemy only should you determine to make me one; and this I +trust you will not." He still smiled pleasantly, as though bent upon +accomplishing whatever object he had in view. + +"The color o' the coat you wear has determined that matter already," +was Joseph Devereux's grim answer. + +But the young man was proof against even this pointed rebuff, for he +laughed, and said with reckless gayety, "Think you not, sir, 't is a +bit unjust to refuse good fellowship to a man because of the color of +his garb?" + +"A truce to this nonsense, young sir!" exclaimed the old man, his +impatience rapidly changing to anger. "Since you are about my premises +in the manner you are, 't is certain you can in no wise be ignorant o' +reasons existing which make it needless for me to say that I desire +naught to do with you, nor your fellows." + +The officer bowed, and with a slight shrug of his broad shoulders, +resumed his hat. + +"So be it, sir," he said, while the smile left his olive-hued face, +"although I deeply regret your decision. But before I go, I must have +speech with a young son of yours." + +Dorothy moved still closer to her father, and turned a troubled look up +into his face. + +"My son, sir," he answered stiffly, "is not at home." + +"No? Then pray tell me where I am like to find him." + +"He has gone to the town on affairs of his own." + +"They are like to be affairs of great weight." The young man's voice +had a note of sarcasm. + +"Whatever they be, they can assuredly be no concern of an officer o' +the King." + +"That is for me to decide, sir," the soldier retorted with evidently +rising anger. "He has done that which gives me good cause to put him +in irons, should I choose to be vengeful." + +"What mean ye?" the old man demanded with flashing eyes. + +"I mean," replied the other, slowly, "he shall be taught that he cannot +play boyish pranks upon His Majesty's officers with impunity." + +"It would seem you are better aware o' what you are prating of than am +I," said Joseph Devereux, now laying a reassuring hand over the small +one that had stolen tremblingly into his own. "As for my son playing +'boyish pranks,' as you say, he would scarcely be likely to turn back +to such things in his twenty-eighth year." + +"Do you mean me to understand that your son is so old as that?" was the +officer's surprised inquiry. + +"I care little of what your understanding may be," was the indifferent +reply; "but such is the fact." + +"And have you no other son--a young boy?" + +"I have not, as any one can tell you." + +The young man bit his lips, and looked perplexed. Then, as his eyes +turned to Dorothy's flushed face, he smiled again, and said, as though +addressing her, "I beg pardon for any seeming incivility; but there +would appear to be some mystery here." + +"No mystery, young man," answered Joseph Devereux, with unbending +severity, "save to wonder why you should come riding to our door in the +fashion you have, with a troop o' your fellows, when we have no liking +for the entertainment of any such company." + +The officer still smiled, but now sarcastically. "It can scarcely be +claimed that you have entertained me, sir. But since I find my +presence so disagreeable to you, I will bid you good-morning." + +He bowed haughtily to the old man, while his eyes still lingered upon +Dorothy's face. Then turning quickly, he strode down the steps, and +mounted his horse, the servants, who had gathered about, falling away +from before him. + +Mary Broughton and Aunt Lettice, who had been standing in the hall +listening to the colloquy, now came out to the porch and stood with the +others watching the scarlet-clad troop clatter noisily down the +driveway, following the rapid pace set by their youthful leader. + +John Devereux and Hugh Knollys, returning from the town, met them just +within the open gate, and drew to one side, watching them with scowling +brows as they dashed past; and the young officer turned in his saddle +to glance over his shoulder, as if something in the former's face had +caught his attention. + +"What did those Britishers want here, father?" the son asked, as he and +Hugh came up the steps, leaving their horses with Leet and Pashar. + +"He would seem to wish to assure us of his courtesy and good-will; and +when I declined these, he demanded to see my son, whom he accused of +playing a boyish prank upon a King's officer, and threatened him with +irons, should he catch the rogue." + +All eyes were now turned upon Dorothy, who laid her blushing face +against her father's arm as she stood clasping it. + +Jack muttered something under his breath; and Hugh, his face alight +with mischief, said, "May his search take up all the attention of +himself and his soldiers, which will be all the better for us." Then +stretching out his hand to Dorothy, he said with a sudden change of +manner, "Will you shake hands, Dorothy?" + +"What for?" she asked, still clinging to her father's arm. + +"As my way of thanking you that I am a free man this morning, and not, +perchance, in irons myself, and on the road to the Governor, at Salem." + +She laid her small hand in his broad palm, and the look he gave her as +his fingers closed over it seemed to make her uncomfortable. + +"It was very little I did," she declared quietly, drawing her hand away. + +"So it may seem to you," he said gravely. "But had it not been done, +the things that might have followed would show you otherwise." + +In the afternoon the four young people set out to ride over to Hugh's +place, where a widowed mother was anxiously expecting the arrival of +her boy--and only child. + +Jack, for reasons now well understood, kept close to Mary's +bridle-rein; so it befell that Dorothy and Hugh were thrown upon one +another's society more intimately than for some time heretofore. + +As they rode leisurely along the Salem turnpike toward their +destination, which lay away from the town, the young man exclaimed +suddenly, "I don't believe another girl living would dare do such a +thing, Dorothy, as you did last night!" + +"Do cease prattling of last night," she said impatiently. "I am sick +to death hearing of it." + +"Are you?" And Hugh's laughing eyes widened with sober surprise. "I +see no call for you to be so." + +"I did not ask that you should," was the tart answer, a wilful toss of +her head accompanying the sharp words. + +"Why, Dorothy, whatever ails you?" And he looked more surprised than +hurt at this new phase of his quondam playfellow's disposition. + +She did not reply; and Hugh, seeing a glitter of tears in her eyes, +said nothing more. + +And so they plodded along in utter silence; the two ahead of them +seeming to find no need for haste, and conversing earnestly, as though +greatly entertained by each other's company. + +The thickly planted cornfields rose on either side of their way, and +the afternoon sun flickered the landscape with fleeting shadows from +the clouds sailing in the blue overhead, while now and again there came +a glimpse of the sea. + +Everything about them was quiet, save the breathing of the horses and +the noise of their trappings. + +At length, coming within sight of the Knollys homestead, the two in +front drew rein and waited for their companions to join them. + +Dorothy gave the impatient mare her head, and rode up briskly, with +Hugh not far behind; and then all four went clattering through the gate +and up the grass-grown roadway, halting before the porch of the low +frame house that stood surrounded by thickly planted fields running +back to meet sloping wooded hills, with grassy meadows intervening, +where flocks of sheep and many cows were grazing peacefully. + +A sweet-faced old lady--Hugh's mother--came out of the door and greeted +them cordially, but first casting a searching glance at her son. Then +bidding a servant take their horses to the stable, she invited them to +come within. + +But Hugh said: "No, mother; Sam need not take the horses away. We can +stop but a short time, and then I must go back to remain in town for +the night. I only rode over--and these kind folk with me--to see how +you were faring without having me to look after matters, and to assure +you of my well being; for I know how you like to fret if I stop away +long enough to give you the chance." + +"You are a saucy boy," his mother replied, but with a look that belied +her words; then turning to the two girls, she asked after their +fathers, and inquired particularly about each member of their +households. + +She listened eagerly to the news of the town, and its latest doings; +the color, fresh as a girl's, coming and going in her cheeks, and +making a dainty contrast with the snowy muslin of her mob-cap and the +kerchief wound about her throat and crossed over her ample bust. + +"And have any of these red-coated gallants stolen their way to the +hearts of you two girls?" she asked banteringly,--her eyes upon Mary +Broughton's beautiful face. + +Jack's eyes were there as well; and Hugh alone saw the sudden mounting +of the blood to Dorothy's cheeks and the troubled drooping of her +eyelids. + +John Devereux rose from his chair, and taking Mary's hand, led her to +the old lady. + +"I am that one, good Mistress Knollys," he said proudly, "who has +stolen his way to this sweet girl's true heart; and you are the first, +outside the family, to know of it." + +"Dearie me!" exclaimed Mistress Knollys, in a happy fluttered way, as +she drew Mary's blushing face down and gave her a hearty kiss. "I +always suspected it would be so; and I am sure every one will wish you +joy, as I do with all my heart." Then turning to her son, "Hugh, dear, +get some wine and cake, and let us pledge our dear friends. With all +these Britishers bringing trouble upon us, who can say how much chance +there'll be left for joyful doings?" + +She bustled about with a beaming face, doing herself most of the +setting forth she had requested of her son. But Hugh's face looked far +graver than was its wont; his eyes strayed over to Dorothy, who was now +laughing and chatting like the rest, and he seemed to be puzzling over +a matter for which he could not find a ready solution. + +It was later than they thought when they set out upon their return, +Mistress Knollys urging them to come again soon, and saying, as she +kissed Dorothy last of all: "It ever makes me feel young again, my dear +child, to have you in the house. And now that your brother and Mary +have one another, and your father has one more daughter, they can spare +you to your old friend with better grace." + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +The air was yet chill with the fresh north-wind, that had blown all +day, to go down only with the sun, while the misty horizon of the +afternoon was now a well-defined fog-bank rolling in from over the sea, +and sending a damp breath in advance of its own coming. + +"We shall have a nasty night," said Hugh, looking at the smoke-like +wall. He and Dorothy were again riding side by side, with the other +two just ahead, but out of ear-shot, and they were making a short +detour across the fields, their course taking them past the Jameson +place. + +It was a pretentious-looking house, painted white, with green blinds; +and a broad piazza was set back amid the fluted columns that ran up to +support the upper floor, whose dormer windows jutted out among the +branches of the oak and elm trees. On the piazza, were several +scarlet-coated gentry. + +"Enjoying himself, no doubt, with rogues of his own ilk," was John +Devereux's comment, as he looked over his shoulder at Hugh,--the two +now being quite close to one another. + +"There might be a thousand rather than a hundred of the redcoats at the +Neck, by the way they seem to be ever turning up about the place," Hugh +muttered in reply, without taking the trouble to look toward the house. + +"And here come some more," announced Mary, in a tone of disgust, as +half-a-dozen scarlet coats appeared suddenly in the field before them. + +They were riding at a reckless pace which soon brought them abreast of +the four, who were now taking their way quite soberly. And as they +swept past, the officer in the rear doffed his hat, while he bent his +eyes upon Dorothy's flushed face with an intensity that made Hugh +Knollys say half aloud, "The impudent young dog--what does he mean?" + +Mary Broughton sat rigidly in her saddle, turning her head away at +sight of the face disclosed by the uplifted hat. But Dorothy smiled +shyly into the bright, daring eyes. + +A little farther along they came upon three fishermen trudging the same +way as they were bound, one of them being young Bait, whose attempt at +singing had brought upon him Doak's wrath the night before. + +"Jameson be givin' a dinner to some o' the redcoats," he said, as the +riders overtook him and his companions, one of whom added angrily,-- + +"An' he best have a care that he don't get his roof burnt over him an' +his d----d King's friends." + +"Have a care yourself, man," said John Devereux, warningly. "'T is not +wise to do aught yet that will give them a handle to use for our own +hurt." + +"Aye," muttered the third, "that may do for now. But if Jameson don't +go with his own sort when they leave the place, it may not be so easy +for him as it has been in the past." + +"How long, think ye, Master John, afore the redcoats quit the Neck?" +inquired Bait. + +"That were a hard matter for any one to say," was the young man's +reply. Then, as he urged his horse forward, he turned to add over his +shoulder, "But take my advice, and avoid any brawling with the +soldiers, for the present, should you run foul of them." + +"That will have to be as it may," one of the men answered doggedly, +"accordin' as to how they mind their own affairs and let us alone." + +"We shall come to have fighting in our streets yet, Jack; you may be +sure of it," said Hugh Knollys. "Our men can never brook with any +patience the swaggering of these impudent fellows." + +The other glanced at him warningly, with a significant motion of the +head toward Dorothy; but the girl did not appear to notice their talk, +and was looking dreamingly away into the distance. + +Mary Broughton, who was slightly in advance, turned her head; and Hugh +saw how her blue eyes were kindling as she exclaimed, "I, for one, +should not care if we _did_ come to blows! I'd like to see our men +show the Britishers that they cannot have matters altogether their own +way down here." + +"Would you like to take a gun yourself, Mary, and help teach them this +lesson?" was Hugh's laughing question. + +"Yes," she declared resolutely. "And I am sure I could handle it, too." + +"You'll never need to do that, sweetheart, so long as I live to carry +out your mind," said Jack, who had been wondering why Hugh looked at +Dorothy so oddly, and why she was so strangely silent. + +When the early evening meal was over that night, the two young men took +their way into the town, where a meeting was to be held. + +Old Leet rowed them down, they preferring this as being least likely to +attract notice; and avoiding the old wharf, they landed on the beach, +near the warehouses, thence taking their way cautiously through the +fish-flakes that filled the fields, until they reached the streets up +in the town. These were deserted, but filled with lurking shadows, +being dimly lit by a stray lamp fastened here and there to the +buildings. + +They walked slowly toward the town hall, while they talked in low tones +of Jameson, making no doubt but that his attentions and hospitality to +the Britishers would be known and commented upon at the meeting. + +When close to the hall a wild clamor broke out from somewhere ahead of +them; and they hurried forward to learn what it might mean. + +It was a street fight between the redcoats and the townspeople; and +although no powder was being used, strong arms and hard fists were +doing almost as painful work. + +The British frigate "Lively" had dropped anchor in the harbor at +sunset, and as soon as darkness came, a press-gang had been sent on +shore to capture such sturdy fishermen as might be abroad, and impress +them into the service of His Majesty's navy. + +Several men had already been taken, and they were resisting most +lustily, while such of their friends as chanced to be in the streets +were coming to their rescue. + +But these were few in number, as most of the citizens who were not at +their homes were now gathered in the town hall, awaiting the opening of +the meeting, which was to be of more than usual importance, as measures +were to be taken with respect to the new tyranny indicated by the +presence of soldiers quartered upon the Neck. + +While the two young men paused on a street corner overlooking the +combatants, hesitating as to what might be the best thing for them to +do, the light from a house over the way shone down upon one figure, as +though singling it out from the others. + +It was that of a swarthy, strongly built young fellow, taller than most +of those about him, and with a bright, resolute face. Hatless, and in +his shirt-sleeves, he was raining heavy blows upon such of the enemy as +sought to lay hands on him. + +"'T is Jem Mugford!" exclaimed Hugh. "See, Jack, what a gallant fight +he is making for himself!" + +Mugford was well known in the town, and was already, despite his youth, +the captain of a merchant vessel. He had been but recently married; +and Jack and Hugh recalled the sunny morning when they saw him, looking +so handsome and happy, alongside the pretty girl he had just taken for +his wife. + +They both, moved by the same impulse, now made a dash toward him; but +the surging crowd--of friends and foes alike--came between in a way to +frustrate their intention. Then, while they were still struggling to +reach him, there went up a loud, angry shout bristling with vigorous +oaths: "They've got Jem! They've got him an' carried him off! Squael +'em, squael 'em!"[1] + + +[1] "Rock them!" i.e. "Throw rocks at them!" + + +The cries and tumult were deafening; and the dark mass rolled slowly +down the street, leaving the young men almost alone. + +"'T is an outrage!" exclaimed Hugh Knollys, panting from his unavailing +exertions. "We need all of us to carry guns to guard against such +dastardly work. What will his poor wife do, and her father, now that +they'll not have Jem to look to for support and defence?" + +"I take it she will not lack for good defenders," answered Jack, his +voice trembling with anger, "not so long as you and I live in the town, +to say naught of his other friends. With the enemy in our harbor, and +amongst us in the very town, the quicker we arm the better, say I. Let +us go first to see Mistress Mugford, and then we'll go to the hall." + +But Hugh held back, for he had a wholesome dread of women's tears and +hysterics. + +"There will be plenty to tell her the bad news, poor soul," he said; +"and women, too, who will know best how to console and comfort her." + +Jack saw the force of this, and did not press the matter; so they took +their way to the town hall, which was already crowded, although its +tightly shuttered windows gave no sign of the life within. The door +was strongly barred, and only opened to the new-comers after they had +satisfied the sentinel on guard of their right to be admitted. + +Gray heads and brown were there, the old and the young, representing +the best blood of the town. And there was a generous sprinkling of +weather-beaten and stout-hearted sailors and fishermen, who listened +silently, with grave faces and eager eyes, to all that was said. + +The talk was for the most part a review of matters considered at former +meetings, to the effect that Parliament, being a body wherein no member +represented the colonies, had yet undertaken the making of laws +affecting not only the property, but the liberty and lives of His +Majesty's American subjects--it was argued that such right did not +exist, nor any authority to annul or in any manner alter the charter of +the Province, nor to interfere with its councillors, justices, +sheriffs, or jurors. + +The matter of the British soldiers being quartered upon the Neck was +also taken up, and with it the outrage committed that very evening by +the press-gang; and in view of these attacks upon the peace of the town +it was deemed wise to push forward at once the measures already +agitated looking to protection and safety. + +The fort was to be repaired, and put in condition for proper defence. +The militia consisted at this time of a regiment of seven companies of +active, well-disciplined men, but under the command of officers +commissioned by Governor Gage or his predecessors. It was deemed +expedient that these should no longer act, but that they should be +replaced by others chosen by vote of the town. And every citizen +should possess himself of a firearm and bayonet, both in good order, +and should be equipped with thirty rounds of cartridges and ball, as +well as a pouch and knapsack. + +It was also resolved that effectual measures be taken for the +silencing, or expulsion from the community, of those "ministerial tools +and Jacobites," who persisted in opposing the action of the various +committees, or else held themselves aloof from taking part in the +measures needful to protect the rights of the Province and people. + +These men who thus spoke and conferred with each other were an +impressive embodiment of the spirit which actuated the entire +community. Their looks and words were glowing with prayerful +earnestness, their manner full of dignity and solemnity. + +The memory of these,--of their lofty ideality of aspiration, of the +purity of their principles and motives, their love of country and +integrity of purpose,--all this is a sacred treasure for the old town, +and one still potent with patriotic influence. + +Theirs was not the courage that shows forth in bravado, and which +delights, from mere exuberance of spirit, in defying peril for its own +sake. Rather was it the true, deeper courage of devotion,--the courage +that sacrificed self for others, and which for principle and what was +deemed simple duty was ready to endure all things. It was the devotion +that would accept all results, would meet death, if needs be, or wear +life away in slow suffering. + +Such courage was the solid material, not the flash and glitter that +pleases and bewilders, and then is as unremembered as is the pebble a +child tosses into the sea, and having watched the ripple it makes, +never thinks of again. + +All this has become the priceless jewel of our national history for all +time, the salt that gives savor to our country's life. The keynote of +it was this,--these men truly loved their country, and were its loyal, +steadfast friends. And are we not told from the highest of all high +sources that "Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down +his life for his friends"? + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +It was nearly midnight when the two young men took their way back +through the fields to their boat and its faithful guardian. + +They were soon afloat, and none but Leet would have ventured to row so +steadily and rapidly down Great Bay in the fog that now shut in about +them like a wall of white wool, muffling all objects from sight. + +The stillness was intense, save for the lapping of the water on the +near-by shore,--this seeming to quicken the old darkey's acute +knowledge of the course he was rowing. + +The young men sat in either end of the boat, with Leet between them; +and not a word was spoken until the keel grated on the sand of +Riverhead Beach. + +The old negro required no light to secure the craft in its accustomed +place; and as the others stood waiting for him to do this, a faint +sound of galloping horses came to their cars, apparently from down +Devereux Lane, which led from the Salem road directly to the beach, and +so on to the Neck. + +They listened intently, while the sound came unmistakably nearer. + +"Hist, Jack!" said Hugh, in a low voice; "that must be the redcoats +coming from Jameson's dinner." + +"'T is sure to be, judging from the reckless fashion of their riding. +Leet, come with us,--'t is as well to step behind the boathouse until +they pass, for we want no challenging at this hour of the night." And +as John Devereux said this, he and his companions passed quickly behind +the small building. + +A dull yellow gleam showed smearingly through the fog as the horsemen +clattered by, with here and there a lantern fastened to their saddles; +and their loud laughter and boisterous talk seemed to bespeak a free +indulgence in good wines and liquors. + +As they struck the beach they fell into a more sober pace, and the last +two, riding side by side, were talking in tones that came distinctly to +the ears of those concealed behind the boathouse. + +"'T is like that Southorn hopes to obtain more certain information by +accepting the old fellow's hospitality," said one of them; "for it +cannot be that the wine is the only attraction, to judge from the way +he passed it by to-night." + +"Aye," was the reply. "He seemed not to care whether it were good +Christian fare we were having once more, or the dogs' food of the camp." + +"Maybe he is sickened, like the rest of us, with this heathen land and +its folk, and rues the day he ever left the only country fit for a man +to live in, to be sent to this strip o' land, with never a petticoat or +bright eye to make the stupid time a little more bearable." + +The other man laughed. "Perchance if we could but get speech with +Jameson's fair friend of whom he prated so much, we might be singing +another tune. What was it he called her--such a heathenish name it was +never my lot to hear before?" + +"He called her 'Mistress Penine;' but she is no blushing maid, for he +said--" + +Here the words, which had been growing less distinct, died away +altogether, and the glow of the lanterns was shut off by the fog, as +the clattering of hoofs became lost in the roar of the surf beating in +from the seaward side. + +John Devereux had refrained from acquainting Hugh with his father's +discovery of Aunt Penine's treachery; but now, as they walked toward +the house, he told him the facts. + +"Think you, Jack, that she has been holding any further communication +with Jameson?" Hugh asked. + +"That would seem most unlikely, for she has been confined to her room +since last Monday night, and both my father and Dot have been watchful +of the servants, although I do not believe there is a traitor amongst +them. As to Pashar, he is too young to rightfully sense what he was +doing, even if he had the wit. Fear of Aunt Penine on the one hand, +and a liking for Jameson's loose silver on the other, were his only +incentives; but dread of my father's displeasure has now put an end to +all that." + +He had persuaded Hugh to return with him for the night, instead of +going to the house of a married cousin living in the town, as he +proposed doing, for the reason that it would put him so much farther on +the way to his own place, whither he intended to ride the next morning, +notwithstanding it would be the Sabbath. + +They found the household long since retired, save only its head; and +when they were seated in the dining-room the young men gave him a +detailed account of the evening's doings. + +When this had been done, Joseph Devereux imparted to them his +determination to lodge with the committee the name of his +sister-in-law, to be listed with those of the other unfaithful +townspeople. He had also resolved that on the following Monday she +should be carried in his coach to her brother's house, in Lynn, for a +future residence. + +This had come from the fact that soon after the two young men had +departed for the town, a messenger from Jameson brought her a +communication. + +The fellow had refused to leave without a reply, until forced thereto +by the servants whom Joseph Devereux summoned for that purpose; and he +went away threatening vengeance upon the entire household when he +should have reported to his master the indignity to which he had been +subjected. + +"Do you know, father," asked Jack, "what it was to which he expected an +answer from Aunt Penine--I mean, anything as to the contents of the +letter?" + +"Nay, my boy. She refused to see me at first; and when I insisted upon +it, she became defiant, and would not converse with me o' the matter, +saying that it was her own concern, and naught to do with my business. +And so I told her that, such being the case, she should hold herself in +readiness to be driven to her brother's house on Monday, when she and +her concerns would give no further trouble to me or my household." + +"Jameson will not be safe a moment," said Hugh Knollys, "after the +redcoats are withdrawn. Indeed," he added, "'t would be no great +wonder if some of the fisherfolk should even now burn the roof over his +head." + +"'T is to be hoped they'll do no such thing," said the elder man, +shaking his head; "for 'twould surely be used as a pretence for +injuring the innocent,--perchance the townsfolk at large." + +He now turned to his son and said in a tone of deep anxiety: "By the +way, Jack, we must see to it that all be over-careful how such matters +be talked on before Dot. I know not what has come to the child. She +has been moody and unlike herself all the evening, starting at every +sound, as if fearful o' danger. And when she came to tell me +good-night awhile ago, she broke down in great weeping. I had much ado +to soothe her; and to all my questioning she had but the one answer, +that she did not know what ailed her, only that she felt as though her +heart would break." + +Jack looked very serious, and Hugh Knollys moved uneasily in his chair. +Then the former said: "Perhaps it is only that she is in a way unstrung +from the excitement of last night. I thought this afternoon that she +acted not quite like herself,--that she seemed to have something on her +mind. Did you not note it, Hugh?" + +Hugh started, and looked still more uncomfortable. His thoughts had +been dwelling upon Dorothy's unusual behavior during the afternoon. He +was thinking of her reticence and impatience,--of the acerbity of her +manner toward himself; and he recalled the quick flushing of her face +as the young officer lifted his hat. + +All this had made a distinct impression upon him; but the affair was +her own,--one which he felt reluctant to mention even to her father or +brother. And so, in answer to Jack's direct question, he uttered one +of the few falsehoods of his life. + +"Nay, Jack; I noted nothing unusual in her manner. I think as you, +that she has been a bit overwrought by last night's happenings. Ah," +he exclaimed, with animation, and glad to speak the truth once more, +"but it was a brave thing she did! And yet she likes to make naught of +it." + +"Dorothy is brave by nature," her father said, his eye's kindling with +pride. "And she is too young to comprehend the full weight o' what she +did, prompted as it was by impulse, and by love for her brother." Then +turning to Jack, he asked with a change of manner, "Did you see or hear +aught o' the British frigate on your way home?" + +"Nothing, father,--only, as I told you, that she dropped anchor in +Little Harbor, just as the darkness fell." + +"She'd not be likely to go from her anchorage in this fog." The old +man spoke musingly, while he slowly filled his pipe for a final smoke +before retiring for the night. + +"But I take it they will move from there as soon as may be, on account +of fearing the trouble they have a right to expect because of the men +they've stolen," Hugh said indignantly. + +"Yes," added Jack, "even if only to get into Great Bay, and closer to +their fellows on the Neck." + +"'T is a thousand pities they should have taken Mugford," the old +gentleman remarked, as he carefully lit his pipe. + +"Yes," his son assented; "it is in every way a pity, for if they wish +to invite trouble they could not have made a better opening for ill +feeling among the people of the town." + +"Indeed they could not," Hugh exclaimed hotly. "Every one is sure to +take Mugford's abduction to heart, and find a way to make the redcoats +answer for it." + +"We shall find a way, please God, to make them all answer for their +overbearing and insolence to us as a country as well as individuals," +Joseph Devereux said gravely. "And that reminds me, I had surely +thought Broughton and the rest o' the committee would have returned +from Boston this night." + +"He was very doubtful, as I think, of getting back before to-morrow, or +perhaps until Monday." And a dreamy look softened Jack's face, as if +he might be thinking of what was to be told when Nicholson Broughton +returned. + +"Jack, what a lucky beggar you are!" exclaimed Hugh, with a touch of +envy in his tone, as the two young men tarried a moment in the former's +room before saying good-night. + +Jack opened his eyes still wider, exactly after the fashion of Dorothy +when she was surprised. + +"You see," Hugh added nervously, "you love Mary Broughton, and she +loves you, and you have the approval and blessing of both fathers. Now +I--" Here he stammered, and then became silent. + +"What is it, Hugh--do you wish me to understand that you love Mary +yourself?" + +John Devereux spoke seriously, almost jealously, for an old suspicion +was beginning to awaken once more within him. + +But Hugh laughed in a way to forever remove any such feeling from his +friend's mind. + +"I--I love Mary!" he exclaimed. "I never dreamed of such a thing, +Jack, although I admit that she is very beautiful, and possesses +everything to call forth any man's best and deepest love. But, my dear +Jack, if you were not blinded, you might see that the world holds other +girls than Mary." And he looked wistfully at his friend, as if wishing +him to know something he hesitated to put into words. + +"Do you mean that you are in love with some one, Hugh?" asked Jack, +laying his hand on the other's broad shoulder. + +Hugh's blue eyes lowered as bashfully as those of a girl, and Jack, now +smiling at him, said, "Who is it--Polly Chine, over at the Fountain +Inn?" + +"Polly Chine!" Hugh answered disgustedly. "A great strapping +red-cheeked clatter-tongue, who can do naught but laugh?" + +"Well, if 't is not Polly, then I am all at sea, for I never knew you +to do more than speak to another girl, unless--" And he paused, as +something in Hugh's pleading eyes caught his attention and awoke his +senses with a rush. + +"Oh, Hugh--it surely is not--" But Knollys interrupted him. + +"Yes, Jack," he said with slow earnestness, "it is--Dorothy." + +Silence followed this avowal, and Jack's hand fell from his friend's +shoulder. Then with an incredulous laugh he said: "Dorothy--why she is +little more than a baby, with no thought beyond her horse and other +pets. 'T was not long since I came upon her playing at dolls with +little 'Bitha." + +"She will be seventeen her next birthday," Hugh retorted with some +impatience; "and that is but a year less than Mary Broughton's age." + +"Yes," Jack admitted. "But it is several months yet to Dot's birthday; +and those months, nor yet another year, can scarce give to my little +sister the womanly depth for sentiment and suffering that Mary now +possesses." + +"Think ye so, Jack?" said Hugh, as though inclined to argue the matter. +"You know 't is odd, sometimes, how little we guess aright the nature +of those akin to us, however dear we may love them." + +The young man sighed as he thought of the look he caught in Dorothy's +eyes when the olive-faced horseman uncovered his handsome head, and +also recalled the flushing of her cheeks at his mother's banter. + +Jack's hand was now once more upon Hugh's shoulder, and he said in his +warm, impulsive way: "See here, old fellow, I'd sooner have you for a +brother than any other man I know; and my father is well-nigh certain +to approve. Only I feel sure he would say what I now ask of you, and +that is, not to speak of such matters to little Dot--not yet awhile; +for it would only risk making her think of what otherwise might never +come into that wilful head of hers. And while there seem to be such +grave matters gathering for our attention, it were best not to give her +heart aught to trouble over." + +"Then you admit she might be woman enough to take to heart whatever ill +would come to me?" Hugh asked eagerly. + +Jack's answer was guarded, although not lacking in kindly feeling. + +"The child has a warm heart, Hugh, and has known you long enough to +feel deep sorrow should any evil come to you--which God forbid. But +take my advice, and do not stir deeper thought in her, to make her +sorrow like a woman, but let her keep her child's heart awhile longer." + +After the young men had bidden each other more than a usually cordial +good-night, Hugh Knollys remained seated for a long time in his own +room, his hands deep in his pockets, and his legs stretched to their +uttermost length. He was lost in thoughts that were neither entirely +pleasurable nor yet altogether lacking in that quality. + +He had loved Dorothy since she was a child, and he admired her +character far more than that of any girl he had ever known. The +reckless daring of her nature--the trait Aunt Penine had censured so +severely, and which the others of the family regarded somewhat +askance--met with a quick sympathy from his own impulsive temperament; +and this last outburst of her intrepid spirit had acted like a torch to +set aflame all his dreams and desires. And now the suspicion that some +sort of an understanding existed between the girl and this young +Britisher gave him a fierce desire to speak out, and claim for his own +that which he feared the other man might seek to take from him. + +And so he chafed at his friend's injunction, hoping as he did, that, +could he but obtain the first hearing, the redcoat's chances might be +weakened, if not destroyed altogether. + +As he sat here alone, there came to him like a flash the memory of one +late afternoon in a long-ago autumn, when, upon his return from a +fishing-trip, he found Dorothy--then a dimpled mite of seven or +eight--visiting his mother, as she often did in those days. + +The child had been left to amuse herself alone; and this she did by +taking down a powder-horn hanging upon the wall, filled with some +cherished bullets which Hugh was hoarding as priceless treasures. + +He seemed to see again the great dark room, lit only by the leaping +flames from the logs piled in the open fireplace, and the little +scarlet-clad child looking up with big startled eyes at his indignant +face as he stood in the doorway, while the precious bullets poured in a +rattling shower over the wooden' floor. He saw once more her look turn +to fiery anger, as he strode over and boxed her ears; and he could hear +the girlish treble crying, "Wait, Hugh Knollys, until I am as big as +you, and I'll hurt you sorely for that!" + +Aye, and she had already hurt him sorely, for all his breadth of +shoulder and length of limb; she had hurt him in a way to make all his +life a bitter sorrow should she now reject his love! + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +October had come, with an unusual glory of late wild-flowers and +reddened leaves. + +The soldiers were still quartered upon the Neck, and owing to the many +collisions between them and the townspeople, the Governor had seen fit +to augment the force. Several times the citizens had almost determined +to march to the Neck and exterminate the entire body of Britishers; but +wiser counsels prevailed, and no attack was made. + +Governor Gage had issued a proclamation forbidding the assembling of +the legislature which had been called to meet at Salem upon the fifth +of the month. But notwithstanding this interdiction it had convened +upon the appointed day, and resolved itself into a Provincial Congress. + +Azar Orne, Jeremiah Lee, and Elbridge Gerry were the delegates +representing Marblehead, and they took a prominent part in the +proceedings. A number of important matters were discussed and acted +upon, and a committee was appointed for "Observation and Prevention," +and with instructions to "co-operate with other towns in the Province +for preventing any of the inhabitants, so disposed, from supplying the +English troops with labor, lumber, bricks, spars, or any other material +whatsoever, except such as humanity requires." + +The loyalists in the town were still zealous in the King's cause, and +would not be silenced. And they entreated their neighbors and friends +to recede, before it became too late, from the position they had taken. +But the only reply of the patriots was, "Death rather than submission!" +And they went on making provision for the organization of an army of +their own. + +Companies of "Minute Men" were enlisted, and these were disciplined and +equipped. A compensation of two shillings per day was to be allowed +each private; and to sergeants, drummers, fifers, and clerks, three +shillings each. First and second lieutenants were to receive four +shillings sixpence, and captains, five shillings. Pay was to be +allowed for but three days in each week, although a service of four +hours a day was required. + +The town house was now filled--as were also most of the warehouses and +other buildings--with the stored goods of Boston merchants, who were +suffering from the operation of the Port Bill, which had closed that +harbor to their business. And owing to this, as also by reason of the +greater advantage afforded for securing privacy, the townsmen now held +their meetings at the old tavern on Front Street, which faced the +water, thus giving a good opportunity for observing the movements of +the enemy upon the Neck. + +John Glover, one of the town's foremost men, and a stanch patriot, +lived near here; and he was now at the head of the regiment in which +were John Devereux and Hugh Knollys,--the former being second +lieutenant in the company of which Nicholson Broughton was captain, and +in whose ranks Hugh was serving as a private. + +Soon after his return from Boston, Broughton had closed his own house, +deeming it too much exposed to the enemy for the safety of his +daughter, who was compelled during his many absences to remain there +alone with the servants; and Mary had gone with them to the house of a +married aunt--Mistress Horton--living in a more retired portion of the +town, away from the water. + +He had consented, in response to the urging of his prospective +son-in-law, that the wedding should take place before the winter was +over. And thus it was that Mary, being busy with preparations for the +event, left Dorothy much to herself,--more, perhaps, than was well for +her at this particular time. + +Aunt Penine had departed upon the day her brother-in-law fixed; but +under Aunt Lettice's mild guidance, coupled with Tyntie's efficient +rule, the household went on fully as well as before,--better, indeed, +in many respects, for there was no opposing will to make discord. + +The tory Jameson still remained under an unburned roof, despite the +mutterings against him; and he continued to entertain the redcoats with +lavish hospitality. + +Several times, during trips to and from the Knollys house, Dorothy, +escorted by Hugh or her brother--sometimes by both--or by old Leet, had +encountered the young officer. But nothing more than a bow and smile +had passed between them since the morning he had turned so haughtily +from her father's presence. + +It was about the middle of the month, and the shutters of all the +windows were opened wide to let in the flood of autumn sunshine as the +family sat at breakfast; and the silver service in front of Aunt +Lettice glinted like little winking eyes where it caught the golden +flood. + +Her delicate white hands had poured out the sweetened hot milk and +water which she and 'Bitha drank in lieu of tea, while her +brother-in-law, busy with looking over a copy of the "Salem Gazette" +brought by his son the night before, was letting his coffee cool. + +Jack himself, after a hastily despatched breakfast, had already gone +into the town, where he had matters of importance to look after, not +the least of them being to dine at the Hortons' with Mary and her +father; and he would not return until late in the evening. + +Dorothy had little to say, seeming to be busy with her own thoughts; +but she could not help smiling as little 'Bitha murmured softly, "Oh, +grandame, I am all full of glory by now, for I caught a lot of sunshine +on my spoon and swallowed it." + +"And you'll be full of a mess, child, if you stir your porridge about +in such reckless fashion," said Aunt Lettice, smiling as her eyes met +Dorothy's. + +"Dot," her father now asked suddenly, lifting his eyes from the paper, +"when did you last see old Ruth Lecrow?" + +Dorothy started, and her big eyes turned to him with a troubled look as +she answered, "It is all of a month since I saw her." + +The girl's conscience smote her, as never before had she neglected for +so long a time to go and see the faithful carer of her own motherless +infancy, or else send needful provision for her impoverished old age. + +"A month!" her father repeated. "How is that, my child?" Then with a +searching, anxious look into her downcast face, he said more gently: +"You had best take Leet, and go to Ruth this very morning. The air and +sun be fine enough to bring back the roses to your cheeks. I am +thinking that you stop within doors too much o' late." + +Before Dorothy could reply, Aunt Lettice reminded him that Leet was to +meet Jack in the town that morning. + +"Then I will walk, father," the girl said, "and take Pashar." + +With this she arose from the table and was about to leave the room, +when 'Bitha put in a petition that she might accompany her. + +"No, 'Bitha," interposed her grandmother, "you made such a froach[1] of +your sampler yesterday that you have it all to do over again this +morning, as you promised me." She spoke with gentle firmness, and the +child hung her head in silence. + + +[1] Spoiled work. + + +"Never mind, 'Bitha," Dorothy said soothingly, as she touched the small +blonde head,--"mayhap we can have Leet take us to see Mistress Knollys +this afternoon." + +"I'd sooner go on the water, Dot," the child suggested timidly. Then +turning to the head of the house, she asked: "Cannot we go out in one +of the boats, Uncle Joseph? We've not been on the water for a long +time." And the blue eyes were lifted pleadingly to the old gentleman, +who had just set down his emptied cup. + +"Nay, my child," he answered, "that you must not; and for the same +reason that none have been for so long a time. None o' ye must go nigh +the boats until the redcoats be gone from the Neck." + +"When will they go?" asked 'Bitha, pouting a little. "They have +spoiled our good times for long past. We cannot go anywhere as we +used." + +"Nor can others older than you, my child," he said with an unmirthful +smile, as he arose from the table. "The soldiers are a pest in the +town, little one. But till the King sees fit to call them off, or we +find a way to make them go, you must be content to stop nigh the house, +and away from the boats." Then he added teasingly, as he put his hand +upon her head, "The redcoats may carry you off, if you put yourself in +their way." + +'Bitha shook off his hand as she gave her small head a belligerent +toss. "If they tried to do that, Uncle Joseph, I'd push them over the +rocks, as Mary Broughton did that redcoat we met in the cave. And oh, +Dot,"--turning to her--"that 'minds me that the other day when I was +with Leet and Trent, down in the ten-acre lot, that same redcoat was +there, sitting in the door of the shed, with his horse standing nigh. +And when he saw us coming, he hurried away. And Trent said 't was +lucky no sheep were within the shed for him to steal." + +"He is a gentleman, 'Bitha, and would no more steal my father's sheep +than would you or I!" + +Dorothy's voice was full of indignation, and the child's eyes opened +wide at its unusual sharpness. But this, as well as her heightened +color, her father and Aunt Lettice ascribed to embarrassment at being +reminded of her exploit of the past summer. + +All the outside world lay flooded in the warm golden sunshine that +blunted the cold edge of the wind rushing from the north, where sullen +cloud-banks were piling up in a way to threaten a change of weather +before night. The sea lay a floor of molten silver and burnished +steel, and the crows called incessantly from the woods. + +Dorothy chose to take a short cut across the fields to old Ruth's +abode; and while skirting the ten-acre lot, she cast a furtive glance +toward the large shed, as if expecting to see a scarlet coat in the +doorway. + +But only the homespun-clad form of Trent was there, letting out a large +flock of sheep, who came gambolling about him, and then dispersed over +the dry brown grass, where a bright green patch showed here and there. + +"'T was queer, Mist'ess Dor'thy, dat we nebber foun' de two cows dat +strayed so long 'go, don't ye t'ink?" inquired Pashar, who followed +close behind her with a big basket on his arm. + +Dorothy, intent upon her own affairs, did not reply, and the boy went +on: "Trent say now dat he b'leebe de redcoats stole 'em, fo' sure." + +"How could that be," she asked sharply, "when the cows were missing +before any soldiers came down here?" + +"I dunno, Mist'ess--on'y dat's what Trent say, an' what we all b'leebe." + +Here Dorothy was startled by a wild, shrill yell from the boy, and +turned quickly to see the cause of it. The sheep had discovered a +broken place in the fence, and were trooping through it en masse; and +if once out of the field, there was nothing to bar their way to +Riverhead Beach. + +Trent had already started in pursuit, but it was easy to see that many +of the flock would be on the other side of the fence before he could +stop them. + +"Give me the basket," Dorothy said to the negro boy, "and go to help +Trent. Then come to Ruth's after me." + +She had scarcely spoken when he, giving her the basket, uttered another +wild yell and was off, speeding after the wayward sheep. He was soon +alongside Trent, who had stopped to put some bars across the opening, +at which the few detained animals were now poking with eager noses. +But these scattered quickly when Pashar, with renewed shouts, charged +through them and vaulted the fence, to dash away on the other side with +a speed that quickly carried him out of sight. + +Pursuing her way alone, Dorothy soon reached the Salem road, which she +crossed, climbing the stone walls on either side, and was again in a +narrow strip of pasture land ending in a wood, where the stillness was +broken only by the squirrels chattering overhead as though in fear of +the intruder. + +The sun sent its rays here and there across the paths that led in +different directions, all of them carpeted with needles from the tall +pine-trees standing amid the oaks and chestnuts; and the one Dorothy +pursued brought her soon to the summit of a small hill, where it took a +sharp turn, and then ran directly to a small, hut-like dwelling, about +the door of which grew a honeysuckle vine. + +In front of the house was what in the summer had been a flower-garden; +everything about it was neat, and the tiny panes of glass in the +unshuttered windows were spotlessly bright. + +Dorothy did not wait to knock, but opened the door, and was within the +living-room of the house, there being no hall. It was wide, and +low-ceilinged, with clumsy beams set upright against the walls, +bedimmed with age and smoke. Directly opposite the entrance was the +open hearth, back of which a sluggish fire was burning; and kneeling in +front of the logs was a girl of fourteen, working with a clumsy pair of +bellows to blow it into a brisker flame. + +She was so engrossed in her task as not to hear the door open, but +started quickly as Dorothy said, "Good-day, Abbie; how is your granny +this morning?" + +"Oh, Mistress Dorothy, how you scared me!" the girl cried, springing to +her feet, and showing, as she turned her head, a preternaturally old +and worried face. + +"Where is Ruth?" inquired the smiling intruder, who now put down the +heavy basket, and began to remove her cloak, whose hood had somewhat +disarranged the curls over which it was drawn. + +"Granny be in bed yet, for her rheumatiz be in her legs to-day, she +says. An' she was worritin' over ye, for fear ye might be ill. She +was sayin' last evenin' that I was to go over and inquire." + +Perfectly at home in the little house, Dorothy went straight to her old +nurse's bedroom, to find her propped up in bed, knitting, and with an +open Bible lying beside her on the snow-white counterpane. + +"Oh, my lamb!" she exclaimed joyfully, catching sight of the sunny +face, that was soon bending over her, while the dim old eyes devoured +its every feature. "But I am glad to see ye, for I feared ye were ill, +for sure. An' what a lot o' sweet fresh ye bring about! It must be a +fine day outside. Ah," with a deep sigh, "if I could only get about as +I used to, my lamb!" The old woman's voice faltered, and the moisture +was showing in her eyes. + +"You will be well again, Ruth, when the winter gets fairly set," +Dorothy said cheerfully. "'T is the seasons changing that always make +you feel poorly." + +"Mayhap, mayhap," sighed the old woman. "But it seems only yesterday I +was runnin' about, a girl like ye, with no thought of ache or pain; an' +but another yesterday when I had ye, a little babe, in my arms. An' +here I be now, a crippled, useless old body, with only a poor +granddaughter, who has to do for me what I ought to be doin' for her. +An' here ye be, a fine grown young woman, ready to be married." + +Dorothy's laugh rang through the small room. "Not I, Ruth. I shall +always live with my father. And I am sure Abbie is glad to do all she +can for you." This last was with a kindly glance at the girl, who had +that moment slipped into the room to see if she might be wanted for +anything. + +She turned to Dorothy with a gratified look on her wan face, and said +with an attempt at heartiness: "Yes, Mistress Dorothy, that I am. Only +she be forever frettin', like I was the worst o' granddaughters to her." + +The old woman smiled at this, as she permitted the girl to raise her +shoulders a little, and shake up the pillows before leaving the room. + +As soon as she was gone, Dorothy said, "I brought you a basket of +things I hoped you wanted; and I'll not stop so long away from you +another time." + +"Aye, my lamb, but ye have stayed away a sore long time. But now that +ye're a young lady, ye've pleasanter folk to talk to than your old +nurse." + +"Now, Ruth," Dorothy threatened playfully, "if you talk to me in that +fashion, I'll go straight home again." + +The old eyes were turned upon her wistfully, while the knotted fingers +nervously handled the knitting-needles. Then Ruth said, "Moll Pitcher +was here yesterday to see me." + +"Was she? What did she say?" asked Dorothy, all in the same breath; +for she took the keenest interest in Moll and her talk. + +"I made her talk to me o' ye, my lamb. An' I was sorry for it +afterwards; for what she said kept me wakeful most o' the night. She +did not want to tell me, either; but I made her." + +"But what did she say?" Dorothy repeated eagerly. "Tell me just what +she said, Ruth." + +The old woman hesitated, as though unwilling to reply. Then her +restless fingers became quiet, and she said slowly and earnestly: "She +told me that your fate was about ye now, fast an' firm, an' that no one +could change it. An' she said your future days were tied about with a +scarlet color." + +"Oh, Ruth," Dorothy said at once, "she must mean that war is coming to +us." She was entirely free from any self-consciousness, and her eyes +looked with earnest surprise into the solemn old face lying back upon +the pillows. But her color deepened as Ruth added still more +impressively: "Nay, my lamb, she told me o' war times to come, beside. +But she meant that a redcoat would steal your heart away; an' she said +that naught could change it,--that his heart was set to ye as the +flowers to the sunshine,--that ye held him to wind about your little +finger, as I wind my wool. An' she said that sorrow, deep sorrow, +would come to ye with it." + +Tears were now dropping down the withered cheeks, and Dorothy thought +her own were coming from sympathy with the grief of her old nurse. For +a moment--only a moment--she felt frightened and almost helpless, even +turning to glance quickly over her shoulder at the door of the outer +room, as if to see if the redcoat were already in pursuit of her. + +Then her own dauntless spirit asserted itself once more, and she +laughed with joyous disbelief. + +"Nonsense, Ruth,--nothing but nonsense! And don't you be fretting, and +making yourself unhappy over something that can never happen." + +"Moll always speaks truth, they say," the old woman insisted, wiping +her wet cheeks with the half-knit stocking. "But we'll see what time +will bring to ye, my lamb. Moll is a good woman. She gave me some +herbs for my ailment, an' was most kind to me. She stopped all night, +an' went on this morning, for her father be dead, an' she have gone to +Lynn to 'bide." + +"Well, I hope she'll stop there forever, before she comes to make you +fret again over such silly tales. You must use the herbs, Ruth, and +get well, so that you can dance at Jack's wedding. You know he and +Mary Broughton will be married near Christmas-tide." + +Ruth looked fondly at the girl. "I'd much sooner dance at your own, my +lamb, if ye married the right man." + +Dorothy laughed. "Can you tell me where to find him, Ruth,--did Moll +tell you where he was?" + +"Aye, that she did," was the quick reply. "An' she told me much I'd +best keep to myself. Only the part I told ye worrited me, an' so I had +to open my heart to ye. But I'll tell ye this,--keep all the redcoats +away from ye, my lamb; shun 'em as ye would snakes, an' trust only to +the true hearts nigh home. There be Master Hugh Knollys--he be most +fit for ye." + +Dorothy laughed again. "Hugh Knollys," she repeated. "Why, Ruth, he +is almost like my own brother. You must never speak of such a thing to +any one; for if it came to his ears I'd surely die of shame. I marry +Hugh Knollys! Why, Ruth, you must be crazy." + +"Ye might do far worse, my lamb." The old woman did not smile, and her +lips narrowed primly, as though she did not relish having the girl make +a jest of the matter lying so close to her own heart. + +"Well, worse or better, I am in no hurry to be married off, Ruth; and +so don't you have any such thought of me." And Dorothy shook her curly +head threateningly. + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +Pashar had not yet appeared, but Dorothy set forth upon her return with +no thought of danger or delay. + +It was now high noon, and the sun making itself felt disagreeably, she +pushed back the hood of her red cloak as she entered the wood, the cool +wind coming refreshingly about her bared head while she walked slowly +along with downcast eyes, musing over this last prophecy of Moll +Pitcher. + +"Aha, Little Red Ridinghood, have you been, or are you going, to see +your grandmother?" + +Dorothy's heart throbbed tumultuously for an instant. Then she felt +cold and half sick, as she looked up and saw coming from under the +trees the gleam of a scarlet coat, topped by a shapely head and olive +face, whose dark-blue eyes were bent laughingly upon her. + +She stopped, startled and hesitating, not knowing what to do, while +Cornet Southorn came toward her along the path, his hat swinging from +one hand, the other holding a spray of purple asters. + +This he now raised to his forehead, saluting her in military fashion, +as he said with a touch of good-humored mockery, "Your servant, fair +mistress,--and will you accept my poor escort, to guard you from the +wolf who is waiting to eat Little Red Ridinghood?" + +A smile now began to dawn about the corners of the girl's mouth; but +she made an effort to keep it back, while she replied with an attempt +at severity, "There are no wolves about here, sir, to guard against, +save only such as wear coats of the color you have on." + +"If my coat makes me anything so fearsome in your eyes, I will discard +it forever." He had dropped his tone of playfulness, and now came a +step closer, looking down into her face in a way to make her feel +uneasy, and yet not entirely displeased. + +"I have no liking," she said, in the same bantering manner he had +assumed at first, "for those who so readily change the color of the +coat they are in honor bound to wear." + +"It was not an easy thing to contemplate until I met you," he replied +bluntly, and looking at her as if hoping for some approval of his +confession. + +This he failed to obtain, for Dorothy only smiled incredulously as she +asked, "Is it kind, think you, to credit me with so pernicious an +influence over His Majesty's officers?" + +"I credit you only with all that is sweetest and best in a woman," he +said with quick impulsiveness. And coming still nearer to her, he +dropped the flowers and seized one of her hands, while the basket fell +to the ground between them. + +"'T is small matter what you may or may not credit me with," she +answered, with a petulant toss of her head. "Leave go my hand this +minute, sir! See, you have made me drop my basket; let me pick it up, +and go my way." + +A sudden, curious glance now flashed from his eyes, and looking sharply +into her face, he said, "I thought that perhaps you would like me to go +with you, so that you might shut me up again in your father's +sheep-house." + +Dorothy ceased her efforts to withdraw her hands--for he now held both +of them--from his clasp, and stared up at him in affright. + +"Who told you I did?" she gasped. "Who said so?" + +The young man threw back his head and laughed exultingly. + +"Aha,--and so it was really you, you sweet little rebel! I was almost +certain of it, the morning I spoke to your father of the matter, and +saw the look that came into your eyes." + +"You are hateful!" she cried, her fear now giving place to anger. "Let +me go, I say,--let go my hands at once!" Her eyes were filled with hot +tears, and her cheeks were burning. + +"Never, while you ask me in such fashion." And he tightened his clasp +still more. "Listen to me!" he exclaimed passionately. "I have been +eating my heart out for dreary weeks because I could see no chance to +have speech with you. I felt that I could kill the men I've seen +riding with you about the country. And now that I have this +opportunity, I mean to make the most of it, for who can say when +another will come to me?" + +His words were drying her tears, as might a scorching wind; and she +stood mute, with drooping head. + +"Don't be angry with me for what I have said," he entreated, "nor +because I found it was you who played that trick upon me. That prank +of yours is the happiest thing I have to remember. You might lock me +up there every day, and I would only bless you for being close enough +to me to do it." + +He stopped and looked at her beseechingly. But she would not raise her +eyes, and stood pushing at the spray of asters with the tip of her +little buckled shoe, while she asked, "Think you I only find pleasure +in going about the country to lock folk up?" + +She spoke with perfect seriousness; and yet there was that in her look +and manner to make his heart give a great bound. + +"I think of nothing, care for nothing," he replied, almost impatiently, +"save that you are the sweetest little girl I ever met." + +Something in his voice made Dorothy glance up at his face, and she saw +his eyes bent upon her lips with a look that startled her into a fear +of what he might have in his mind to do. So, drawing herself up, she +said with all the dignity she could muster, "Such speech may perchance +be an English custom, sir; but 't is not such as gentlemen in our +country think proper to address to a girl they may chance upon, as you +have me." + +"Sweet Mistress Dorothy," and he seemed to dwell lovingly upon her +name, "I crave your pardon. I meant no lightness nor disrespect. And +if I have lost my head, and with it my manners, you have but to look +into your mirror, and you'll surely see why." + +Dorothy knew not how to reply to this bold speech, and the look that +came with it. They made her angry, and yet she knew that the flush +upon her cheeks did not come from anger alone, but that a certain +undefinable pleasure had much to do with it. Then came the +consciousness that she had no right to be where she was, and the fear +of danger coming from it. And this was sufficient to make her say with +some impatience: "'T is idle to stand here prating in such fashion. +Please release my hands, and let me go. I should be well on my way +home by now." + +He bent his head suddenly, and without a word kissed her hands. And +the burning touch of his lips made her pulses thrill and her heart beat +with what she knew to be delight,--exultation. + +Then, like a rushing flood, reason assailed her conscience, that she +should permit a hated redcoat--one whom she ought to detest--to kiss +her hands, and not feel enraged at his boldness. And so, filled with +indignation, she pulled one hand away, and raising it quickly, gave his +face a ringing slap. + +He started back and placed a hand to his cheek, now showing a more +flaming color than her own, and for a moment his eyes were alight with +an angry glitter. But he said nothing, and bowing low before her, +stood away from the path. + +Dorothy picked up her basket, and without glancing toward him passed +along on her way. But her eyes were brimming with tears, which were +soon trickling down her burning cheeks. + +What had she done, and what could she do, in this new, strange matter, +of which she might not speak to her father? How was she to act toward +him from whom she had never yet withheld her confidence? + +And still how could she speak to any one--even him--of what was giving +birth to thoughts and feelings such as she had never dreamed of before? + +With all this--and in spite of it--came the question as to what the +redcoat would think of her now,--a maiden who went about at night +masquerading in masculine garb, and who slapped His Majesty's officers +in the face? + +There came to her a woful sense of shame,--yes, of degradation, such as +her young life had never imagined could exist, and seeming to overwhelm +her with its possible results. + +She was startled by a sudden footfall close behind her, and without +looking back, she quickened her pace into a run. But now a strong arm +was thrown about her waist, holding her fast; and she caught a fiery +gleam of the scarlet coat against which her head was pressed by the +hand that, although it trembled a little, prisoned her cheek with +gentle firmness. + +Then a mouth was bent close to her ear, so close that its quick breath +fanned the tiny curling locks about her temples, and a voice whispered: +"Sweetheart, forgive me--for God's love, forgive me! I cannot let you +go in this way; for see, you are weeping. Surely this pretence of +anger is unjust,--unjust to you and to me!" + +Before she could speak, the voice went on, "Little rebel, sweet little +rebel, will you not surrender to--a vanquished victor?" And with this, +a kiss was pressed upon her lips. + +At first Dorothy had been too startled to speak,--too frightened and +dumb from the tumult his caressing voice had aroused within her. But +the touch of his lips awakened her like a blow. + +"How dare you?" she cried, struggling from his arms. "Oh, how I wish I +had never seen you!" + +"You can scarce expect me to feel likewise," he said calmly, smiling +into her stormy little face, "for I--" + +"Never speak to me again!" she interrupted, still more hotly. And +then, as the tears of anger choked her voice, she turned from him and +fled away down the path. + +For a time she heard him in pursuit; and this made her run all the +swifter, until at last, reaching the Salem road, she glanced back as +she mounted the low stone wall, and saw that he had stopped where the +timber ended, and stood watching her. Then without turning to look +again, she went quickly across the sunlit meadow-land. + +Her breath came sobbingly; and mingled with her terror was a feeling +she could not define, but which told her that life would never be the +same for her again. She still felt the clasp of his arms about her, +the burning of his lips upon her hands,--their pressure upon her mouth. +His voice still came caressingly to her ears, and the wind seemed to be +his breath over her hair. + +It was not long before she saw Pashar coming to meet her; and drawing +the hood about her face, she bade him go for the basket she had left in +the wood. Then, without waiting for him to return with it, she +hastened directly to her father's house. + +She reached her own room without having encountered any of the +household, and throwing off her cloak went to the glass. There, +resting her elbows on the low, broad shelf, and dropping her soft round +chin into her small palms, she seemed to be studying what the mirror +showed to her,--studying it with as much interest as though she now saw +the reflection of her features for the first time. + +"You are a wicked, treacherous girl," she said aloud, addressing the +charming face staring back at her with great solemn eyes, "a perfect +little traitor." Then--but now to herself--"Moll said his heart turned +toward me as the flowers to the sun. And if this be true, why is it +not also truth that sorrow is to come with it?" She shivered, and +pressed her hands over her eyes. + +"Cousin Dot!" called a small voice outside the locked door. + +"Yes, 'Bitha." Dorothy started guiltily, and made haste to dash some +water over her glowing face and tell-tale eyes. + +"Aunt Lettice says the meal is ready," came the announcement from +without; "and Hugh Knollys is below with Uncle Joseph." + +Dorothy felt thankful for this, as a guest at dinner would serve the +better to divert attention from herself; and making a hasty toilette, +she descended to the dining-room. + +She found them all at the table, with Hugh at her father's right hand, +and directly opposite her own place. The young man arose as she +entered the room, and responded with his usual heartiness to the +greeting she tendered him. But with it all he gave her so odd a look +as to make her wonder if he saw aught amiss in her appearance. + +The two men resumed their talk of public matters and the town's doings, +and were soon so absorbed that Dorothy was able to remain as silent as +she could have wished. + +It had been resolved not to import, either directly or indirectly, any +goods from Great Britain or Ireland after the first of the coming +December. And in case the tyrannical decrees of the mother country +should not be repealed by the 10th of the following September, it was +agreed that no commodities whatever should be exported to Great +Britain, Ireland, or the British West Indies. + +This would bring about an embarrassing state of affairs for both the +men who were now discussing the matter, as they, like many others in +the town, had derived a considerable income from such exporting. + +"But we'll stand shoulder to shoulder, Hugh," said Joseph Devereux, +firmly, "if so be we forfeit every penny, until the oppressors give us +fair dealings or we drive every redcoat from our soil. I will kill +every cow and sheep--aye, and every horse as well, and cut down every +stick o' timber on my land, for the keeping of us and our friends fed +and warmed, but that I will maintain the stand I've pledged myself to +keep." + +"Let us hope, sir, that the redcoats will not first seize your cattle," +said Hugh, his eyes fixed gravely upon the abstracted young face +opposite him. "I met Trent as I was riding along the pastures, and he +told me the sheep had escaped through a broken place in the fence of +the ten-acre lot, and he had a chase after them to Riverhead Beach. He +said he met a party of soldiers there, and they deliberately took one +of the sheep from under his very nose, and carried it off with them to +the Neck. And when he remonstrated with them, they only laughed at +him, and told him to send the bill to the King for the dinner they +would have." + +The old man's eyes flashed with anger as he listened to this. + +"It is an outrage!" he exclaimed when Hugh had finished,--"to steal +stock under our very eyes. I must see Trent about the matter, and the +cattle must be kept nigh the house." + +"Why not take them by boatloads over to the islands till the redcoats +be gone, as has been done before, for pasturage?" The suggestion came +from Aunt Lettice, and was made rather timidly. + +"You were never cut out for a farmer's wife, Lettice, my dear," her +brother-in-law replied, a good-humored smile now breaking over his +face, "else you'd remember there is no pasturage there at this time o' +year. And I doubt if they'd be so safe on the islands as here, for +Trent and the men would have to go each day with fodder for them, and +the soldiers' spying eyes would be sure to note the coming and going o' +the boats. No," he added with decision, "I shall have the flocks kept +penned, nigh the house; and I shall make complaint o' this matter to +the Governor. As for the rest," and he smiled grimly, "I take it our +guns can protect ourselves and our property." + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +Hugh Knollys was so much a member of the household that Aunt Lettice +thought nothing of going her own way when dinner was over and leaving +him in the living-room with Dorothy; and the two now sat on one of the +low, broad window-seats, watching Joseph Devereux as he went out of +doors in search of Trent, with 'Bitha dancing along beside him. + +"How fast 'Bitha is growing!" Hugh remarked. "She will soon be taller +than you, Dot. Although, to be sure," he added with a laugh, "that is +not saying very much." + +Dorothy did not reply. Indeed it would seem that she had not heard +him; and now he laid his hand softly upon one of her own to arouse her +attention as he called her by name. + +At this she started, and turned her face to him. + +"What, Hugh--what is it?" she asked confusedly. + +His smiling face became sober at once, and a curious intentness crept +into his blue eyes while he and Dorothy looked at each other without +speaking. Then he asked deliberately, "Of what were you dreaming just +now, Dot?" + +A burning blush deepened the color in her cheeks, and her eyes fell +before those that seemed to be searching her very thoughts. + +"Shall I make a guess?" he said, a strange thrill now creeping into his +voice and causing her to lift her eyes again. "Were you dreaming of +that young redcoat you were walking with this morning?" + +She sprang to her feet and faced him, her eyes blazing, and her slight +form trembling with anger. + +"I was not walking with any such," she replied hotly. "How dare you +say so?" + +"Because it so appeared as I came along the Salem road," was his calm +answer. "I saw him on one side of the road leaning against the stone +wall, and watching you, as you went from the wall on the opposite side, +and across your father's lot. His eyes were fixed upon you as though +he were never going to look away; indeed he never saw nor heard me +until my horse was directly in front of him." + +Dorothy was now looking down at the floor, and made no reply. + +After waiting a moment for her to speak, Hugh took both her hands and +held them close, while he said with an earnestness that seemed almost +solemn in its intensity: "Don't deceive me, Dot. Don't tell me aught +that is not true, when you can trust me to defend you and your +happiness with my life, if needs be." + +His words comforted her in a way she could not explain. And yet they +startled her; for she was still too much of a child, and Hugh Knollys +had been too long a part of her every-day life, for her to suspect how +it really was with him. + +"I was not intending to tell you any untruth, Hugh. But--I was not +walking with him." + +The anger had now gone from her eyes, and she left her hands to lie +quietly in his clasp. But she had not forgotten the warm pressure of +those other hands in whose keeping they had been that same morning. + +"Had you not seen him, Dot?" Hugh asked, looking keenly into her face. + +At this her whole nature was up in rebellion, for she could not brook +his pursuing the matter farther, after what she had already told him. + +"Let go my hands!" she exclaimed angrily. "Let me go! You have no +right to question me as to my doings." + +He dropped her hands at once, and rising to his feet, turned his back +to her, and looked out of the window. A mighty flood of jealousy was +surging through his brain; and that which he had so long repressed was +struggling hard to uproot itself from the secret depths,--where he was +striving to hide it from her knowledge--and burst forth in fierce words +from his lips. + +Had this hated Britisher dared to steal into the sacred place of the +child's heart, which he himself, from a sense of honor, was bound to +make no effort to penetrate? The mere suspicion of such a thing was +maddening. + +Dorothy glanced at him. How big and angry he looked, standing there +with tightly folded arms, his lips compressed, and his brows contracted +into a deep scowl! How unlike he was to the sunny-faced Hugh Knollys +who had been her companion since childhood! + +"Don't be angry with me, Hugh," she pleaded softly, venturing timidly +to touch his shoulder. + +He whirled about so suddenly as to startle her, and she fell back a +pace, her wondering eyes staring at the set white face before her. + +"I am not angry, Dot," he said, letting his arms drop from their +clasping; "I am only--hurt." And he slowly resumed his place upon the +window-seat. + +"I don't wish to hurt you, Hugh," Dorothy declared, as she sat down by +him again. + +He seemed to make an effort to smile, as he asked, "Don't you?" + +"No, I do not." And now her voice began to gather a little asperity. +"But you do not seem to consider that you said aught to hurt me, as +well." + +He took her hand and stroked it gently. + +"You know well, Dot," he said, "that I'd not hurt you by word or deed. +And it is only when I think you are doing what is like to hurt +yourself, that I make bold to speak as I did just now." + +Dorothy was silent, but her brain was busy. The thought had come to +her that she must bind him by some means,--make it certain that he +should not speak of this matter to her brother. And a wild +impulse--one she did not stop to question--urged her to see that the +young soldier was not brought to any accounting for whatever he had +done. + +She wondered how much Hugh might know, and how much was only +suspicion,--surmise. And with the intent to satisfy herself as to +this, she said, "Just because you saw a redcoat watching me, as you +thought, and at a distance, you forthwith accuse me of walking with +him." + +She spoke with a fine show of impatience and reproof, but still +permitting him to hold and caress her hand. + +"Aye, Dot, but there be redcoats and redcoats. And this one happened +to be that yellow-faced gallant we are forever meeting, the one you--" + +She interrupted him. "I know what you mean. But I tell you truly, +Hugh, I had not been walking with him, nor did I know he was by the +stone wall looking after me, as you say." + +"And you had not seen him?" Hugh asked, now beginning to appear more +like himself, and bending his smiling face down to look at her. + +But the smile vanished, as he met her faltering eyes. + +"Don't tell me, Dot, if you'd sooner not; only know that you can trust +me, if you will, and I'll never fail you,--never!" + +These words, and the way they were spoken, settled all her doubts, and +clasping her other hand over his, that still held her own, she burst +forth impetuously: "Oh, I will tell you, Hugh. Only you'll promise me +that you'll never tell of it, not even to Jack." + +The young man hesitated, but only for a second, as the sweet prospect +of a secret between them--one to be shared by no other, not even her +idolized brother--swept away all other thoughts. + +"I promise that I'll tell no one, Dot,--not even Jack." + +He spoke slowly and guardedly, the better to hide the mad beating of +his heart, and the effort he was making to restrain himself from taking +her in his arms and telling her what she was to him. + +Dorothy uttered a little sigh, as if greatly relieved. Then she said +with an air of perfect frankness: "Well, Hugh, I _did_ see him--up in +the wood, as I was coming from old Ruth's. He spoke to me, and I ran +away from him." + +"What did he say?" Hugh demanded quickly. + +"Oh, I cannot remember,--he startled me so. I was dreadfully +frightened, although I am sure he meant no harm." + +"No harm," Hugh repeated wrathfully. "It was sufficient harm for him +to dare speak to you at all." + +"No, but it was not," the girl declared emphatically. "He and I are +acquainted, you know--after a fashion. It was not the first time he +has spoken to me, nor I to him, for that matter." + +Hugh's blue eyes flashed with anger. + +"I have a great mind to make it the last!" he exclaimed with hot +indignation, and half starting from his seat. + +But Dorothy pushed him back. "Now mark this, Hugh Knollys," she said +warningly,--"if you say aught to him, and so make me the subject of +unseemly brawling, I'll never speak to you again,--no, not the longest +day we both live!" And she brought her small clenched fist down with +enforcing emphasis upon Hugh's broad palm. + +"What a little spitfire you are, Dot!" And he smiled at her once more. + +"Spitfire, is it? You seem to have a plentiful supply of compliments +for me this day." She spoke almost gayly, pleased as she was to have +diverted him so easily. + +He was now staring at her with a new expression in his eyes, and +appeared to be turning over some matter in his mind; and Dorothy +remained silent, wondering what it might be. + +"Dorothy," he said presently, and very gravely, "I wonder will you +promise me something?" + +"I must know first what it is." She was smiling, and yet wishing he +would not look at her in such a strange way; she had never known before +that his frank, good-natured face could wear so sober an aspect. + +"I wish you would promise me that you'll keep out of this fellow's +way,--that you'll never permit him to hold any converse with you, and, +above all, when no one else is by." + +"I'll promise no such thing," she answered promptly, and with a look of +defiance. + +"And why not?" he asked in the same grave way, and with no show of +being irritated by her quick refusal. Indeed he now spoke even more +gently than before. + +"Because," she replied, "it is a silly thing to ask. He is a +gentleman; and I do not feel bound to fly from before him like a guilty +thing, or as though I were not able to take care of myself. Besides, +we are not like to meet again--he and I." + +Her voice sank at the last words, as though she were speaking them to +herself--and it had a touch of wistfulness or of regret. + +This set Hugh to scowling once more. But he said nothing, and sat +toying in an abstracted fashion with her small, soft fingers. + +The desire to plead his own cause was again strong upon him, and he was +wondering if he might not in some way sound the depths of her feeling +toward him, without violating the pledge which, although unspoken by +his lips, he knew her brother--his own dearest friend--assumed to have +been given. + +He was aroused from these speculations by a question from Dorothy. + +"You will never speak to him of me in any manner, will you, Hugh?" she +asked coaxingly. + +"Speak to whom?" he inquired in turn. Then, noting the embarrassment +in her eyes, he muttered something--and not altogether a blessing--upon +Cornet Southorn. + +"But you 'll--promise me you 'll," she insisted. + +"And if I promise?" he asked slowly. He was looking into her face, +thinking how sweet her lips were, and wishing he could throw honor to +the winds and kiss them--just once, while they were so close to his own. + +"There is nothing," she declared with a sudden impulse, "that I will +not do for you in return!" + +"Nothing!" A reckless light was now growing in his eyes. "Are you +sure, Dot, there is nothing?" + +"No, nothing I can do," she affirmed. But she could not help remarking +his eagerness and illy repressed excitement, and felt that she must +keep herself on guard against a possible demonstration,--something +whose nature she could not foresee. + +The young man was still looking fixedly at her. But now he let go her +hands and sprang to his feet. + +"I'll make no bargain with you, Dot," he said excitedly. "I hate this +man, and have from the very first, and I hope I'll have the good +fortune before many days to meet him face to face, in fair fight. But +I promise, as you ask it, that I'll seek no quarrel with him. And even +had you not asked, I'd surely never have mentioned your name to him." + +"Thank you." Dorothy spoke very quietly; and before he could know of +her intention she snatched his hand and kissed it. + +She did it so suddenly and quickly that he knew not what to say or do. +He felt the hot blood rush to his face, and found himself trembling +from the storm aroused within him by her caress. + +Before he could speak, she was on her feet alongside him, smiling up +into his burning face, and saying, "You are a good friend to me, Hugh, +and I'll not forget it." Then, as she laid her hand on his arm, "Come, +I will play something for you; I feel just in the humor for it." + +He followed her into the drawing-room, where a huge wood-fire leaped +and crackled on the hearth. She bade him be seated in a big chair in +front of the dancing flames, and then went over and perched herself +upon the bench--roomy enough to hold three Dorothys--before the spinet. + +A moment later and there stole from beneath the skilful touch of her +fingers one of those quaint melodies of which we in this generation +know nothing, save as they have come down to us through the ear alone, +never having been put upon paper. + +Hugh Knollys sat and watched her, noting the pretty curves of her +cheeks and throat,--the firm white neck, so small and round, with the +wayward hair breaking into rebellious little curls at the nape,--the +slender wrists, and small, snowy hands. + +None of these escaped him, as he sat a little back of her, his hungry +eyes absorbing each charming detail. He thought what a blessed thing +it would be, could she and he always be together, and alone, like this, +with peace smiling once more over the land, and they happy in the +society of each other. + +The music seemed to fit exactly into his present mood, and he sat +motionless for a time, listening to it. Then, scarcely conscious of +what he was doing, he arose to his feet; and as the final cadence died +softly away, he was in a chair beside the bench, with his arm clasping +Dorothy's waist. + +She turned a startled face, to find his own bending close to her, and +with a look in it such as she had never before known it to hold. + +"Dorothy," and his voice was almost a whisper, "you care more for me +than for the Britisher?" + +An alarmed suspicion of the truth came to her. She saw a new meaning +in all he had said, in what she had beheld in his face and manner; and +realizing this, she sat white and motionless, her fingers still resting +upon the keys. + +He now bent his head, and she was frightened to feel tears dropping on +her wrist. + +She was possessed by a wild desire to fly,--to get away from him. But +she found herself unable to stir, and sat rigid, feeling as if turned +to marble, while his arm was still lying loosely about her waist. + +Then his hand stole up, and his fingers clasped her hand. + +"Oh, my God,"--his voice was hoarse and choked--"I cannot endure it!" + +At this, there came to the girl a flash of remembrance from that same +morning. She seemed to feel the arm of the young soldier around her, +and to see the scarlet-clad breast against which her head was pressed +so tenderly. A feeling as of treacherous dealing with his faith and +with her own rushed upon her, and she struggled to get away. + +"Are you gone daft, Hugh Knollys," she cried angrily, "or whatever ails +you?" + +He arose shamefacedly, and stood mute. But as she moved off, he +stretched out a hand to detain her. + +"Wait,--wait but a moment, Dot," he begged. "Don't leave me in such +fashion. Don't be angry with me." + +"Are you mad?" she demanded again, and with no less impatience, +although pausing beside him. + +"Aye, I think I must be," he admitted, now speaking more naturally, and +trying to smile down into the small face, still glowing with +indignation, so far beneath his own. + +"So it would seem," she said coldly, and in no wise softened. "I ne'er +expected such a thing from you." + +"Never mind, Dot,--forget it," he pleaded, now full of penitence. +"I've a great trouble on my mind just now, and your music seemed to +bring it all to me with a new rushing." + +Dorothy's face changed in a second, and became filled with sympathy. + +"Oh, Hugh, I am so sorry," she said with quick solicitude, taking him +by the hand. "Don't you want to tell me about it? Mayhap I can help +you." Her anxiety about this unknown trouble had lulled to sleeping +her suspicions as to the reason for his outbreak. + +He smiled,--but sadly, grimly. "I'll tell you some day," he said, "and +we will see if you can help me. But we'll be better friends than ever +after this, won't we, Dot?" His eyes had been searching her face in +nervous wonder, as if to assure himself that he had not told her aught +of his secret,--the secret his honor forbade him to reveal. + +"Yes, Hugh, I am sure we shall be." Dorothy said it with a warmth that +set his mind at rest. + +"And you'll let no redcoats, nor any coats--whate'er be their +color--come betwixt us?" he added, with a touch of his old playfulness. + +"No, never!" And there was a sincerity and firmness in her answer that +warmed his very heart. + +"Thank you, Dot," he said, lifting her fingers to his lips. "And thank +God!" he muttered as he released her hand, saying it in a way to make +Dorothy feel uncomfortable in the thought that perhaps she had pledged +herself to something more than she had intended. + +Just here Aunt Lettice came into the room. "Leet has returned from the +town," she announced, full of excitement, "and says that Mugford's wife +has at last prevailed upon the English officers to release him." + +"Can this be true?" inquired the young man, instantly alert, and quite +his natural self again. + +"So Leet says; and that Mugford is now in the town, with every one +rejoicing over him." And she poked the fire with great energy, sending +a thousand sparkles of flame dancing up the wide chimney. + +"How happy his poor wife must be!" was Dorothy's comment, as she +stooped to pick up 'Bitha's kitten, which had followed Aunt Lettice, +and was now darting at the steel buckles on the girl's shoes, where the +bright fire was reflected in flickerings most inviting to kittenish +eyes and gambols. + +"I think I'll ride over to town and see Mugford," said Hugh. "I want +to congratulate him upon his escape." + +He glanced at Dorothy, as if half expecting her to speak, as he had +just declined Aunt Lettice's urgent invitation that he return for +supper, saying that his mother was looking for him before evening. + +But all Dorothy said was, "Here come father and 'Bitha." And she +walked over toward the window. + +Hugh followed her, and said in a low voice, not meant for Aunt +Lettice's ears, "You'll not forget our compact, Dot, and your promise?" + +"No," she answered, smiling at him; "nor will you yours?" + +"Never!" He pressed the hand she extended to him, and then hurried +away. + +Joseph Devereux met him on the porch, and they stood talking for a few +minutes, while 'Bitha came within, her cheeks ruddy from the nipping +air. + +"Leet is back," she said, as she entered the drawing-room; "but Uncle +Joseph says it is too cold for us to take so late a ride over to see +Mistress Knollys." + +"So it is, 'Bitha," Dorothy assented. "But we'll go to the kitchen, +and ask Tyntie to let us make some molasses pull." + +She was, for the moment, a child again, with all perplexing thoughts of +redcoats and Hugh Knollys banished from her mind. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +All the outdoor world seemed encased in burnished silver, as the new +moon of early December came up from the black bed of the ocean's +far-out rim, and mounting high and higher in the pale flush yet +lingering from the gorgeous sunset, brought out sparklings from the +snow drifted over the fields and fences of the old town. + +The roads were transformed into pavements of glittering mosaics and +pellucid crystals; and all about the Devereux house the meadow lands +stretched away like a shining sea whose waves had suddenly congealed, +catching and holding jewels in their white depths. + +Dorothy was looking out at the beauty of it all, her face close to the +pane her warm breath dimmed now and then, compelling her to raise a +small hand to make it clear again for her vision. + +It was her brother's wedding night. And the girl was very fair and +sweet to look upon, in her soft pink gown, with its dainty laces and +ribbons, as she stood there awaiting the others; for they were all to +drive into town, to the house of Mistress Horton, where the marriage +was to be celebrated. + +Nicholson Broughton was away from his home, enforced to tarry near +Cambridge, where several of his townsmen were holding weighty conclaves +which it was important for him to attend. But he had urged John +Devereux to make no delay in the ceremony, feeling that his daughter, +once wedded, and an established member of the family at the Devereux +farm, would be happier, as well as safer, now that riots in the town +were becoming more frequent and fierce. + +Hugh Knollys also was absent, having undertaken an important mission in +the neighborhood of Boston. + +Only the young man himself knew how eagerly he had desired to be given +this responsibility, as a reason for being away. For as the time drew +near for his friend's wedding, he feared to trust his self-control +should he find himself again in Dorothy's presence. + +And then, besides, the hated redcoats were still on the Neck, and +several of the officers, among them Cornet Southorn, having accepted +more comfortable quarters at Jameson's house, Hugh thought it the wiser +course to remove himself from the vicinity for a time. + +It seemed as though these two young men were continually meeting one +another on the roads and byways of the town and its neighborhood. And +the sight of the stalwart form dashing along upon a spirited horse,--of +the handsome face and reckless eyes, raised in Hugh a fierce desire to +lay them in the dust through the medium of an enforced quarrel. + +Dorothy had been by Hugh's side at several of these encounters; and it +had made him heartsick to see the fluttered way in which her eyes would +turn from the young Britisher after meeting his ardent gaze, and how +for a time she would be uneasy and abstracted, resisting all attempts +to gain her attention. + +But he bravely held his own counsel, and since that memorable day in +October had never mentioned the Englishman's name, nor made any +allusion to him or his doings. + +As for Dorothy, she had gone about all these days with a face grave +almost to sadness; and it was well for her own peace that the others of +the family ascribed her altered mien to jealousy, thinking that her +exacting heart found it a hard matter to share her adored brother with +another whom he reckoned more precious than her own spoiled self. + +Her musings were now disturbed by Jack coming into the room. + +He looked the brave soldier in his new regimentals,--a round jacket and +breeches of blue cloth, with trimmings of leather buttons; and his dark +handsome face was aglow with happiness. + +His curling locks were gathered at the back of the neck, and tied with +a black watered-silk ribbon; and in his hand was a broad-brimmed hat, +caught up on one side, as was the fashion, and adorned with a cockade +of blue ribbons belonging to his sweetheart. + +"Ah, Dot, and so you are here! Leet is at the door, child, and Aunt +Lettice and 'Bitha are with father, in the drawing-room, all ready to +start. Come, get your cloak, and let us be off." + +He was close beside her as she turned from the window; and thinking he +saw the sparkle of tears in her eyes, he laid a detaining hand on her +arm. + +"You must be happy to-night, Dot," he said, "for my sake. I should +like all the world to be so, and you, my little sister, more than all +the rest." + +She let him kiss her on the cheek, but stood silent, with lowered eyes. + +"What is it, child,--don't you rejoice with me, when I am happier than +ever before in my life?" + +He gently took her chin in his hand and raised her downcast face. In +an instant her arms were clasped about his neck and her head buried +against his breast. + +Just then they heard Aunt Lettice, in the hall, calling as if she +supposed Dorothy to be above stairs. + +"Come, Dot," urged her brother,--"they are waiting for us, and we must +be off." And kissing her, he quietly unclasped her clinging arms. + +At this she drew herself away from him, and fixing her eyes searchingly +upon his face, said, "You are so happy, Jack, are n't you, because you +and Mary love each other?" + +"Why, surely," he replied, wondering at the words, and at her way of +speaking them. But he smiled as he looked into her troubled face. + +"Do you not think, Jack," she asked, still with that strange look in +her eyes, "that when love comes in, it changes all of one's world?" + +He now laughed outright. But she paid no attention to his gayety, +going on in a way to have troubled him had he been less selfishly happy +at the moment, "If you know this so well, Jack, you will never cease to +love me, if ever love comes to change my own world, the same as it has +yours? No matter what you may feel is wrong about it, you will not +blame me?" + +"Why, Dot, little girl, whatever are you dreaming about,--what should +make you talk in this way?" And he looked at her with real anxiety. + +But she only laughed, and passing her hand across her eyes, answered +nervously, "I don't know, Jack,--I was but thinking on future +possibilities." + +"Rather upon the most remote impossibilities," he said laughingly. +"But come, child, think no more of anything but this,--that 't is high +time for you to put on your cloak and come to see your brother take +unto himself a wife, who is to be your own dear sister." + +"I am glad it is Mary Broughton," Dorothy said quietly, as she took her +cloak from a chair. + +"So am I," he laughed, as he wrapped the warm garment about her, +shutting away all her pink sweetness with its heavy folds. Then, while +he helped her to draw the hood over her curly head, "What if it were +Polly Chine, now?" + +"Then," she answered with an odd smile, "you would have to fight Hugh +Knollys." + +They were passing through the door, and he said with a keen glance at +her, "I've good cause to know better than that, Dot." + +But she gave no heed to this, and they joined the others outside. + +The old family sleigh moved sedately along the hard, snow-packed road, +the moon making a shadowy, grotesque mass of it along the high drifts, +while Leet, enveloped in furs, sat soberly erect, full of the +importance now attaching to him. + +When they were well on their way, a body of mounted Britishers swept +by, evidently bound for the town; and Joseph Devereux remarked to his +son, as the two sat opposite one another, while Dorothy, riding +backwards with her brother, seemed lost in the contemplation of the +snowy fields they were passing, "I trust, Jack, those fellows will stir +up no trouble this night." + +"They are most likely to do so," was the low-spoken reply; "for you +know the mere sight of their red coats acts upon our men much as the +like color affects an angry bull." + +"I wish they might be ordered from the Neck," observed Aunt Lettice, +who sat alongside her brother-in-law, and had caught enough to guess at +the rest of the talk. + +"They must wish so themselves, by this time," Jack said with a laugh. +"It must now be rarely cold quarters for them over there." + +"Why did you not ask them to your wedding, Cousin Jack?" + +The question came from small 'Bitha, who was sitting between Dorothy +and her brother. "I wonder if the one Mary pushed over the rocks last +summer would not like to see her married?" + +"'Bitha!" Dorothy exclaimed sharply, seeming to awaken to what was +being said. "Why will you always put it so? Mary did not push him +over; he fell himself." + +"Aye,--but, Cousin Dot, he fell over while he was stepping back from +her," the child answered. "She looked so angry that I think he was +sorely frightened." + +Dorothy did not reply; but her brother said gayly, "Well, 'Bitha, I +hope Mary will never look at me in a way to frighten me so much as +that." + +"She never would," 'Bitha asserted with confidence, "for you are not a +Britisher." + +"What a stanch little rebel it is," Joseph Devereux said laughingly; +and Jack went on in a teasing way to 'Bitha, "I expect we shall all go +to see 'Bitha married to a redcoat as soon as she is big enough." + +"You will see no such thing, Cousin Jack," the child replied angrily. +"I'd run away, so that no one could ever find me, before I'd do such a +thing. Would not you, Cousin Dorothy?" + +Dorothy did not answer, and 'Bitha repeated the question. + +"Would I do what, 'Bitha?" Dorothy now asked, but indifferently, and as +though with the object of quieting the child. + +"Why, marry a redcoat?" + +"Nonsense, 'Bitha,--don't let Jack tease you." And Dorothy turned away +again to look off over the snow fields through which they were passing. +But she wondered if the others noticed how oddly her voice sounded, and +what a tremble there was in it. + +The Horton house loomed up full of importance from amid its darker +fellows, and warm lights twinkled out here and there where a parted +curtain let them through to shine forth like welcoming smiles into the +cold night. + +Within there was much bustle and good-natured badinage, as the +neighbors, bidden to the feast, assisted the people of the +house,--playing the part of entertainer or caterer, hairdresser or +maid, as the needs of the other guests demanded. + +It was a simple, homely wedding, as was the custom of the day; and the +festivities were enjoyed with all the more zest by reason of the relief +they offered from the anxiety felt by all, on account of the disturbed +condition of public affairs. + +There were games--such as "Twirl the Trencher" and "Hunt the +Slipper"--for those who liked them; and the elders endeavored to enter +at least into the spirit of all that was going on, and not dampen the +younger folks' pleasure by the exhibition of gloomy faces and +constrained actions. + +Later in the evening there was dancing. And it was a goodly sight to +look at the handsome groom and his lovely bride go through the stately +minuet, with his father and Aunt Lettice opposite them,--the slow, +dignified step making the feat a no-wise difficult one for the old +gentleman, who had in his day been accounted one of the most graceful +of dancers. + +Dorothy acted for a time as though she were made of quicksilver. She +was leader in all the games and frolics, and seemed the very +impersonation of happy, laughter-loving girlhood. Then, and without +any apparent reason, another and different mood took possession of her, +and she suddenly became very quiet, taking but little part in what was +going on. + +Her father's fond eyes were quick to notice this; but when he hastened +to draw her to one side and ask for the cause, she made light of his +anxiety, and gave him a smiling assurance of her perfect well-being. + +As a matter of fact, something had occurred to disturb the girl very +seriously. + +During one of the games she had been alone for a few minutes in a room +facing upon the side yard,--a small orchard; and chancing to glance +toward the window, she saw, as if pressed against the glass, the face +of Cornet Southorn. + +While she stood, silent and rigid, staring at it, the face disappeared; +and some of the other guests now entering the room, she slipped away to +recover her composure. + +What, she asked herself, did he seek, and why was he here? She +dismissed at once the thought of his meaning any harm, for surely he +would not bring about any disturbance upon this, her brother's wedding +night. And even should he seek to intrude himself upon them, there +could be no just cause to warrant such an act, for although the King +might expect to enforce the Acts of his Parliament, he had not as yet +sought to control the marrying or giving in marriage of his American +subjects. + +But even so, she was startled, almost alarmed; and the matter filled +her thoughts for the remainder of the evening. + +It had been arranged that Aunt Lettice and 'Bitha were to remain with +the Hortons for a time, while Joseph Devereux was to accept the +invitation of his friend, Colonel Lee, to pass a few days at the +latter's house, not far away. + +This would make the bride and groom the only ones who would return with +Leet to the farm, as Dorothy was going to the home of a girl friend, +feeling that it would be a relief to be among new faces and in a +strange house. + +"Dorothy, are you going to let me be a good sister to you,--one of the +sort you will come to with all your joys and troubles?" + +The two girls were standing close to each other in one of the upper +rooms, where Mary was donning a dark gray slip pelisse and hood, with +warm fur linings peeping about the edges, while Mistress Horton was +bustling about out of earshot, getting some last stray articles bundled +for their conveyance to the sleigh waiting below. + +The earnest blue eyes were bent searchingly upon Dorothy's face, as if +the speaker had more than a passing notion of the impulses stirring the +heart lying beneath the laces of the dainty pink gown. + +But Dorothy laughed, albeit a little constrainedly, and replied, "I +thought you knew all about that long ago, Mary." + +"Do you know, Dot,"--and Mary's white brows contracted into a puzzled +frown--"somehow you are changed. What is it, dear?" + +"Your imaginings, I should say," was the careless reply. "My hair is +not turning gray, is it?" And she touched her dark curls. + +"Well, never mind now," said Mary, diplomatically, and not caring to +press the matter, "but you will tell me when we are together again, +won't you, Dot?" + +Dorothy only smiled, and said nothing. + +Jack had spoken to Mary more than once of some change that had come +over his sister. But his words were not needed, as she herself, not +having seen much of the girl these last few months, would have observed +it had he not spoken. + +Dorothy was as impulsive and affectionate as of old, but to Mary's keen +eyes there now seemed a new-born womanliness about her. She was +sensible of the absence of that childish frankness and ingenuousness +which had been so much a part of the girl's nature. She was now more +like a woman, and one whose mind held a secret she herself tried to +evade, as well as have others blind to its existence. + +It was as if a new self had been born, dominating the old self, and +sending her thoughts far from where her body might be. + +"She must be in love with some one, and 't is sure to be Hugh Knollys," +said Mary to herself, with a glow of happiness, as the two went +downstairs, Mistress Horton and a servant following them, both laden +with packages to be stowed away in the Devereux equipage, whereon Leet +sat rigidly upright, the darkness hiding his black face and its unusual +grin. + +"Take good care of her, Strings," Joseph Devereux cautioned, as he took +his place within the vehicle, and pointing to the open doorway, where a +pink gown and dark curly head showed foremost amongst the guests +crowded there to see the bride and groom on their way. The pedler--an +humble onlooker at the wedding--had urged his protection for Dorothy's +safer piloting through the town to her friend's house; and this her +father and brother had been glad to accept. + +"That I will, sir,--never fear," was the hearty response; and as Jack +Devereux sprang into the sleigh, Leet turned the horses' heads to the +street and drove off, followed by a shower of old shoes and peals of +merry laughter from the doorway. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +The town was as silent as a city of the dead when the four started on +their way, Master Storms--a fussy, irritable old gentleman--in advance, +with his pretty daughter Patience hanging on his arm, and followed +closely by the small erect figure of Dorothy, wrapped in her dark +cloak; while Johnnie Strings, on guard against any unseen danger, +walked directly behind her. + +There were hurrying masses of cloud overhead that made gorges and +ravines, hemming in the glittering stars, now grown brighter since the +moon had set; and the sound of the sea came faintly hoarse, as the +little party bent their steps in its direction. For near it lay the +Storms domicile,--up near what was known as "Idler's Hill." + +Suddenly a wild uproar broke out upon the night, coming from ahead of +them; and Master Storms bringing his daughter to a halt, Dorothy and +the pedler came up with them. + +They all stood listening. There were the shouts and cries of a +not-to-be-mistaken street fight; and the turmoil was becoming more +distinct, as though the combatants were approaching. + +Patience urged her father to hurry on towards their house; but he +hesitated. + +"What think you is amiss, Johnnie Strings?" he inquired nervously, +fidgeting from one foot to the other, while his terrified daughter +tugged at his arm. + +"Usual trouble, I guess," drawled the pedler. "Redcoats paradin' the +streets, and gettin' sassy." Then turning to Dorothy, he said, "Had +n't ye best let me take ye back, Mistress Dorothy?" + +Before she could answer him a small body of soldiers issued from a side +street near by. A wavering, yelling crowd of angered men swept forward +to meet them; and the two girls and their escorts found themselves in +the midst of a struggling, shouting mass, with here and there a +horseman looming up, whose headgear, faintly outlined in the uncertain +light, proved him to be a British dragoon. + +Master Storms seized his daughter by the arm, and taking advantage of +an opening he saw in the crowd, darted through and sped with the girl +down a narrow alley. But the pedler, trying to follow with Dorothy, +was baffled by a number of the combatants closing in around them. + +He shouted lustily for them to make a passage for himself and his +charge; but although he was known to many of them, rage, and the lust +of battle, seemed to dull their ears to his voice. + +In the midst of it all he was felled to the ground; and with no thought +of tarrying to find out if he were hurt, Dorothy, seeing a small +opening in the mass of men, dashed through it, with the intention of +making her way back to the Hortons'. + +She had gone only a short distance when her path was barred by several +horsemen, who seemed to be the leaders of the troop. They had fought +their way to a clearer space, and were looking back as though for their +followers to join them. + +"Devils--fools," panted one. "They deserve to be wiped out." + +"Aye," said another. "If we might use our weapons as we liked, I, for +one, would take pleasure in having a hand at that game." + +Dorothy attempted to glide by them, hoping that the dark color of the +cloak she wore would save her from detection. But the voice of the +first speaker called out gayly, "Aha, who goes there? Stop, pretty +one, and give the countersign." + +"Or, if indeed you be a pretty one, we'll take a kiss instead, and call +it a fair deal," laughed another, as flippantly as if the night were +not being rent with the uproar of the fighting mob just behind them. + +Dorothy came to a standstill, and for the instant was uncertain which +way to turn. Then she resolved to pursue the road she had taken, and +said spiritedly, "Stand aside, and let me pass out of hearing of such +insults, or it may be the worse for you." + +She lifted her head as she spoke; and as the rays of a near-by lamp +fell upon her face, one of the riders spurred toward her. + +"Mistress Dorothy!" The voice made her heart leap; and then she felt +sick and faint. + +"Dear mistress,"--and now Cornet Southorn had dismounted close beside +her--"let me conduct you safely out of this place, where you surely +never should have come." + +The other horsemen had drawn to one side and away from them, and were +now silent. + +Scarcely conscious of what she was doing, Dorothy permitted him to lift +her to his saddle. He sprang up behind her, and holding her firmly +with one arm about her waist, spurred his horse away from the scene, +shouting to the others not to wait for him. + +The uproar soon died away behind them, but still they sped on in +silence. Then Dorothy heard the young man laugh, and in a way to +frighten her, and rally her dreaming senses to instant alertness. + +"So now, my sweet little rebel, you are my captive, instead of being my +jailer, as that night in the summer." And she felt his breath touch +her cheek. "You shall not speak to me in such fashion. And--oh, you +have passed the street leading to Mistress Morton's, which is where I +must go." + +Dorothy began with her usual imperiousness, but ended in affright as +she saw the street fade into the darkness behind them. + +"Is that where I stole like a thief to catch one glimpse of you, pretty +one?" he asked, paying no heed to her indignation. "And I felt like +committing murder, when I saw all the gallants who wanted your smiles +for themselves." + +"Take me back this minute!" she demanded angrily; but her heart was now +thrilling with something that was not altogether rage nor fright. + +"That will I not," he answered quickly, and with dogged firmness. + +"You are no gentleman," she cried, beginning at last to feel real +alarm, "if you do not take me to Mistress Morton's this minute." + +The young man leaned forward until his lips were close to the girl's +ear; and his deep voice, now trembling as with suppressed feeling, sent +each word to her with perfect distinctness. + +"I hope, sweet Mistress Dorothy, I am a gentleman," he said. "As such +I was born, and have been accounted. But"--and his voice sank to a +tremulous softness--"take you anywhere, I will not, until we have seen +good Master Weeks, for whose house we are now bound. And when we leave +it, it will be as man and wife." + +"You--dare not," she gasped. "You dare not do such a thing." + +He laughed softly. "Dare I not? Ah, but you mistake. I dare do +anything to win you for my own. I know your sweet rebel heart better +than you think, and I know that except it be done in some such manner, +you may never be mine." + +She tried to speak, but fright and dismay sealed her lips. Suddenly he +bent his face still closer and whispered: "Ah, little sweetheart, how I +long to kiss you! But my rose has its thorns; and I fear their +stinging my face, as they did that day in the wood, ages ago,--so long +it seems since I had the happy chance to hold speech with you." + +Still Dorothy could not utter a word, seeming to be in a dream, while +the powerful gray flew along the deserted streets that somehow looked +new and strange to her eyes. And now she felt the broad breast +pillowing her head, and she could feel distinctly the beating of his +heart, as if his pulse and her own were one and the same. + +And so they rode along in silence until they reached the house of +Master Weeks, where the young man pulled up his horse, and without +dismounting, pounded fiercely with his sword-hilt upon the door. + +An upper window was soon raised, and a man's querulous voice demanded +to know what was wanted. + +"Make haste, and come down to see," was the impatient answer. "It is +Cornet Southorn who wishes to speak with you." + +The window was closed hastily, and a light soon flickered in the lower +part of the house; and then came the noise of the door being unbarred. + +The young man sprang to the ground and held out his arms. + +"Come, sweetheart," he said, "let me lift you down, and I will fasten +the horse to a ring in the step here. He has been fastened there +before, but," with a soft laugh, "scarce for a like purpose." + +Dorothy clung to the pommel. "I'll not,--I'll not!" she declared. +"You shall not dare do so wicked a thing, and Master Weeks will never +dare listen to you." + +"We'll see to that," he laughed, and lifted her from the saddle. Then, +as she reached the ground, he kissed her, as he had that day in the +wood. + +"Be good to me, and true to yourself, my sweet little rebel," he +whispered, "and fight no longer with truth and your own heart. Own +that you love me, and know that I love you,--aye, better than my life." + +"I care naught for your love," cried Dorothy, struggling to free +herself from his arms. "And I tell you that I hate you!" + +"Aye," and he laughed again, "so your lips say. But I know what your +heart says, for your eyes told me that, long ago. And I shall listen +to your heart and eyes, and pay no heed to your sweet little rebellious +mouth." + +They were now standing on the upper step of the small porch, and in the +open doorway was the minister, Master Weeks, a candle in his hand, and +held above his head as he peered out into the darkness with wonder +filling his blinking eyes. + +"Good Master Weeks, here is a little wedding party. And despite the +unseemly hour, you must out with your book, and your clerk, as witness, +for binding the bargain past all breaking." + +With this, the young officer, carrying Dorothy in before him, entered +the house and closed the door, against which he placed his broad back, +his gleaming teeth and laughing eyes alight like a roguish boy's as he +smiled down upon the bewildered little divine. + +"You will do no such thing, Master Weeks," Dorothy protested, her eyes +flashing with anger. "I am here against my will, and forbid you to +listen to his madness." + +"Aye," the young man said, looking into her glowing face, "mad I am, +and with a disease that naught will cure but to know that you are my +wife." + +"Why, Cornet Southorn," exclaimed Master Weeks, "whatever can you be +thinking on? Surely this lady is Mistress Dorothy, the daughter of +Master Joseph Devereux." And he looked closely into her face. + +"Yes, so I am," she cried, moving nearer to him. "You know my father, +and you'll surely not hearken to this young Britisher?" + +"Aye, but he will, and that speedily," the young man asserted. The +smile was now gone from his face, and his hand stole toward his pistol. + +"Master Weeks," he said sternly, "it will go hard with you if within +ten minutes you do not make this lady my wife." And he looked at his +watch. + +The frightened little man said nothing more, but hurriedly summoned his +housekeeper and her son, who was also his clerk. A few minutes later, +and Dorothy, held so firmly--albeit gently--by Kyrle Southorn that she +could not move from his side, heard the words that made her his wife. + +When it was over, she was strangely silent, scarcely seeming to +comprehend what had taken place. + +The newly made husband put his name upon the register. Then, as he +drew Dorothy forward to take his place, he bent down until his face +came beneath her own, and gave her a curious, beseeching look,--one +that seemed to act upon her bewildered senses like a deadening drug. + +Yes, he was right. She loved him better than all else in the world. +Her mind had fought the truth these many months; but now her heart rose +up, a giant in strength and might, and she could never question it +again. + +For a moment her great dark eyes looked down into his pleading ones. +Then in a subdued, obedient way, entirely unlike the wilful Dorothy of +all her former life, she took the pen he proffered and wrote her name +underneath his bold signature. + +A deep sigh now burst from his lips,--one of happy relief; then, as if +utterly unmindful of the minister's presence, he pressed a kiss upon +the little hand that still held the pen. + +She submitted to this in silence, standing before him with downcast +face, and eyes that seemed fearing to meet his gaze, while he carefully +drew the cloak about her once more. + +"I trust, Mistress Dorothy, you will in no wise hold me accountable for +this young man's rashness, when the matter shall come to your father's +ears, but that you will kindly raise your voice in my behalf to testify +how that I was forced for my life's sake to agree." + +Master Weeks was already on the black list, owing to his well-known +sympathy for the King's cause, and for having remonstrated openly with +the patriots of his congregation. + +"You have but to keep a close mouth, Master Weeks," said Southorn, as +the little man lighted them into the hall; "and the closer, the safer +it will be for your own welfare, until such time as one of us shall +call upon you to speak." + +A few minutes later they were again speeding along, with everything +about them as silent as the stars now glittering in an unclouded sky. + +The touch of the keen air upon Dorothy's face seemed to arouse her; and +as her senses became awakened, she was filled with a wild yearning for +the safe shelter of her father's arms. + +What would that father say,--how was she ever to tell him of this +dreadful thing? + +And yet was it sure to be so dreadful to her? + +Yes, it must be. This man was the sworn enemy of her country, and of +the cause for which her brother and her friends were imperilling their +very lives. If she went with him--this Englishman who was now her +husband--it meant that her family would brand her as a traitor, and +that she would be an outcast from them. It might bring about the death +of her father, the light of whose eyes and life she knew herself to be. + +She seemed to see once more the beloved face, and hear his voice, +warning the pedler to take care of her. + +And poor Johnnie Strings--might he not at this moment be dead, stricken +down by the followers of this very man who was now holding her so close +to his breast, and murmuring fond words between the kisses he pressed +upon her lips. + +She was beset by a sudden loathing of him and of herself, and pushing +away his bended face, she tried to sit more erect. + +"Stop!" she cried fiercely. "Don't touch me. I did not mean to give +way so. I detest you!" + +"Ah, my little rebel,"--and he spoke in no pleased tone,--"have I to +fight the battle all over?" + +"You have taken an unfair, a dishonorable advantage of me," she said. +"I am not used to such manners as you have shown. But I tell you +this,--although you have forced me to become your wife, you cannot +force my love." + +"So it would seem," was his grim answer. + +"Where do you purpose taking me?" she demanded, all her wits now well +in hand. + +"That shall be just as you say, sweet mistress," he replied, so +good-naturedly as to surprise her. + +"Then take me at once to my father's house," she ordered, with her +natural imperiousness. + +"So be it," he said. "And that will be on my own way, as it leads to +Jameson's." + +They rode in silence along the snowy road, whose whiteness and the +stars made the only light, until they were within her father's grounds, +and partially up the driveway. + +Here she bade him let her down; and he dismounted silently and lifted +her from the horse, detaining her as she stood alongside him, as in her +heart she had hoped he would. And yet had he not done this, she would +have gone her way without a word. + +"Is there any doubt but that you will get within the house all safe?" +he asked anxiously. + +"None." She lifted her face, and he wished there were a better light +with which to see her. + +"And now," he said, "what is your will that I do?" + +Dorothy answered quickly and with angry decision. + +"Go away and leave me," she exclaimed, "and never speak to me again!" + +She could not see the look of pain come to his face. But he still +lingered beside her, and asked again, "And you are certain to get +within the house, and that you fear naught?" + +"I fear nothing!" she said impatiently. + +"Aye,--I should have cause to know better than ask such a question," he +declared, in a voice that sounded as if now he might be smiling. Then +he asked, "And you mean it,--that I leave you, and keep away?" + +"Yes, yes; let me go." And she sought to escape from his grasp. + +But he held her firmly, and still closer. + +"Do you realize, sweet mistress, that you are my wife,--my own little +wife?" + +She did not reply; and bending his head nearer, he exclaimed +passionately: "My own wife you are, and no man can change that,--never, +never! And now, having gained you, I am content to await your +pleasure. My lips shall be sealed until you choose to open them; and +until you send for me, sweet mistress of my heart, I shall not come +nigh you. Only, I pray you, in God's name, not to let the time be far +away." + +"Let me go," was all she could say, dismayed as she was by the weight +of sorrow that had come to her, and threatened those whom she loved. + +He released her without another word, and she fled swiftly to the house. + +Having awakened Tyntie by tossing some bits of ice against her window, +she soon gained entrance, and quieted the wonder of the faithful +servant by telling her that there had been a street fight, and a +gentleman had brought her home on his horse. + +Despite the terrible struggle going on in her childish heart, Dorothy +kept up bravely until alone in her own room, whose very familiarity +seemed almost a shock to her, for all that had been crowded into these +few hours made it as though weeks had passed since she arrayed herself +for her brother's wedding,--little dreaming that it was for her own as +well. + +And such a wedding! How was it that the young Britisher had dared to +do such a thing? How was it that she had come to sign the register so +meekly? How could she ever dare tell of it? And if she did so, might +not her revelation bring harm to him? + +Such were the questions that chased one another through her mind, only +to return again and again with renewed importunity. + +She had told him to go, and yet--she loved him truly. And could she be +loyal to her father's cause with such a love battling in her heart? + +With thoughts like these the few remaining hours of the night wore +away, bringing to her but snatches of fitful sleep. + +Johnnie Strings appeared at the Devereux farm early the following +morning. The red of his face was almost pale, and he was haggard and +wild-eyed, with one of his arms in a sling. + +He came to report to John Devereux the happenings of the night before, +and to consult with him as to the best way of imparting to his father +the news of Dorothy's disappearance. + +The newly wedded pair had already been told by Tyntie of the girl's +presence in the house; and Jack now hastened to assure the almost +distracted pedler of her safety, adding that they had thought it best +to leave her sleeping undisturbed until she should be ready to come +down and join them. + +When Johnnie Strings heard this, he collapsed into a chair. + +"Well, well!" he exclaimed, as soon as he could find his voice, "I +never was so dead beat out! My broken arm is pretty bad, to be sure, +but my feelin's was a danged sight worse when I come to my senses last +night. There they had me in fisher Doak's, an' naught could they tell +o' Mistress Dorothy, for none had seen her. I went down to Storms's at +daybreak, and then over to Horton's, an' she'd been seen at neither +place. Comin' by Master Lee's, I first thought to make inquiry there, +thinkin', ye know, she might o' flewed to her father. Then, thinks I, +'Hold on, Strings. If she did, then she's safe as safe; an' if she did +n't, why, ye may be the death o' the old gentleman.' + +"So thinkin', I rode back to Horton's ag'in an' begged 'em--an' +Mistress Lettice, who was about plum out o' her head with fright--to +keep quiet, an' not risk scarin' your father to death, while I rode out +here to see ye an' have a sort o' meetin' over it, to decide what's to +be done next an' best. So now, thank the Lord, I find the bird is safe +here in the nest where she b'longs, an' I'll hurry back an' tell +Mistress Lettice, as I promised to do." + +With this he pulled himself up from the chair and started for the door. +But the young man stopped him. + +"You had better stop here awhile, Strings," he said, "and have +something to eat and drink; I can send Leet in to see Aunt Lettice." +And Mary adding her persuasions, the worn-out pedler was induced to +accept the invitation. + +Tyntie soon had a tempting meal spread for him; and having been without +food since leaving the Horton house the night before, he was in a +condition to do it full justice. + +John Devereux sat by while the pedler ate, and drew from him the +details of the disturbance. + +It had been brought about by a party of the Britishers being requested +to depart from a tavern kept by one Garvin, where they were eating and +drinking until a late hour. A wrangle ensued, during which one of the +dragoons knocked Garvin down, and then the latter's son had retaliated +in kind. + +At this, some of the other guests--townsmen--had joined in, and a +regular fight began, spreading soon from the inn to the street, where, +aroused by the noise, others had taken part, although scarcely knowing +why, except for the reason that here were some of the hated enemy, and +they must be made to retreat. + +No one had been killed outright, although several were quite badly hurt. + +"The queerest part of it is, sir," said the pedler, having finished his +story, "that I've a firm belief 't was none other than David Prentiss +who broke my arm for me. Somethin' must o' turned him blind, I should +say, for him to see a red coat on _me_." + +"That is the trouble with these street fights, and especially at +night,--the men seem to lose all sense of sight and reason. Something +has got to be done to make the Governor remove the troops from the +Neck." While speaking, John Devereux rose from his chair, and paced up +and down the room in angry excitement. + +"Aye, very true, sir," Johnnie assented, as he drained the last drop of +spirits from his glass. "But however will such a thing be brought +about?" + +"I don't know," was the impatient reply. "But it must and shall be +brought about, if we have to rise up and drive them out by main force, +and at the risk of turning our very streets into a battle-ground. And +this is the only thing that has kept us from doing it long ago. But +their insulting tyranny only grows worse, and they seek deliberately to +stir up the people to rash actions; and these, when reported, serve but +to hurt the real cause of our revolting, when tidings of them comes to +the King's hearing." + +"Aye, no doubt," the pedler agreed, as he arose from the table. "Now, +if His Majesty could be got to sit down, comfort'ble, like another man +might, an' listen to all we could tell him, he might agree to let us +have what we want, an' what is only fair we should have, an' no +fightin' need be done o'er the matter. The trouble is in this +everlastin' lot o' lyin', gabblin' poll-parrots that he puts atwixt +himself an' us, to tell him what the people do an' don't say an' do. +An' to the poll-parrots he listens, and, listenin', b'lieves. So, for +one, I should say the quicker we fight it out--whether it be in our +streets or up to Boston--" + +Mary now came into the room looking very grave; and her husband, paying +no further attention to the pedler, asked anxiously, "What is amiss, +sweet wife?" + +She tried to speak quietly, but the tremor in her voice told of alarm. + +"Dorothy is awake," she said, "and I think you had best see her at +once. She seems ill." + +They left the room together and were soon standing at the girl's +bed,--one on either side, looking down at the restlessly moving head. + +The big eyes stared at Jack for an instant with evident recognition. +Then a vacant look came into them, and she laughed in a way to fill him +with apprehension. + +A moment more, and she began to mutter--something about Hugh Knollys +falling into the water, and how dark and cool it was, and that she +wanted to go into it, for she was hot,--so hot. + +"She is out of her head," Mary whispered; "and this is the way she went +on, to me, before I called you." + +Her husband looked again at the unquiet little figure, and reached down +to take the small hand wandering about the coverlid; but she snatched +it from his clasp. + +"Go away,--go far away!" she cried. "I told you to go, and I meant it. +Oh, yes,--I did mean it. I am only crying because I hate you,--never +think it is for anything else. I hate you because your coat is +red,--red, like the ruby ring you forced on my finger whether I would +or no. And even the ring did not want to stay, for it knew me better +than you did. It was so big that you had to hold it on; and now I've +put it away safe,--safe, where no one will ever see, ever know. But it +is red, and red means cruelty; and that is what this war is to be." + +The babbling died away in a moan; but before Jack or his wife could +speak, Dorothy began again, now in a stronger voice than before. + +"Moll said it must bring sorrow,--sorrow. And yet she said I wound him +like a silken thread around my finger. Ah, _that_ winds tight, +although the ring was loose. And the thread Moll spoke of means love, +but the ring means--But no, I must not tell, never, never, for it would +kill my father. Father, I want you,--where are you?" + +This came in a loud cry, and she sank back sobbing, on the +pillows,--for she had struggled partially to her elbow, where Jack held +her so that she could rise no farther. + +"Mary, what is to be done?" asked the young man helplessly, anxiety and +fear having for the moment deprived him of his usual promptness and +decision. + +"Don't you think we had best send for your father and Aunt Lettice?" +Mary said in her calm way, although the tears were running down her +cheeks. "And the doctor must be called at once." + +"Leet has already gone into the town to tell them that Dot is here. +But I will have Trent put the horses into the sleigh, and he and I will +hasten in at once and fetch them all back, and the doctor as well, +unless he can come out ahead of us. You will stop right here beside +her, won't you, sweetheart?" he added anxiously, as he turned to leave +the room. + +"Why, of course I will." And Mary looked at her husband a little +reproachfully. + +"And you do not mind being left alone?" he asked, looking back over his +shoulder, while his hand gripped the open door in a way that told of +the tension upon him. + +She shook her head, smiling at him through her tears. + +Jack had no sooner gone than the faithful Tyntie came to see if she +were needed. But Mary sent her away with the assurance that she +herself could do all that was to be done at present. + +The ravings of the sick girl troubled her; and she deemed it prudent +that no other ear should hear words she felt might have a hidden +meaning. + +Dorothy still rambled on about the ruby ring and scarlet coat. Once +the name of Master Weeks fell from her lips, coupled with wild +lamentations that she had ever signed the register, and so risked the +breaking of her father's heart. + +After a little time--Dorothy having become quiet--Mary stood looking +out of the window, her eyes resting on the glittering fields that +spread away to the gray line of the ocean, where the cold waves were +curling in with glassy backs, and foam-ridged edges as white as the +snow they seemed to seek upon the land. + +She had been watching the gulls circling about with shrill screams or +hanging poised over the water, when a low call caused her to start. + +She turned at once, to see Dorothy sitting up and looking intently at +her, while she seemed to fumble under the pillow for something. + +"What is it, dear?" Mary asked, hastening to the side of the bed. + +Dorothy drew from beneath the pillow a heavy ring of yellow gold, with +a great ruby imbedded in it, like a drop of glowing wine. + +"There it is," she whispered, putting the ring into Mary's hand. "It +is his ring,--only he gave it to me. Hide it,--hide it, Mary. Never +let any one see--any one know. I want to tell you all about it, but I +am so tired now, so tired, and--" The girl fell back with closed eyes, +and in a moment she appeared to be asleep. + +After standing a few minutes with her eyes fixed upon the unconscious +face, Mary opened her hand and looked at the ring. + +It was a man's ring, and one she recalled at once as having seen before. + +It had been upon the shapely brown hand lifted to remove the hat from a +young man's head, that summer day, at the Sachem's Cave. + +There came to her a sudden rush of misgiving, as she asked herself the +meaning of it all. What had this hated Britisher's ring to do with +Dorothy's illness and with her ravings? What was all this about Master +Weeks, and signing the register? + +She determined to tell her husband of what she had heard and seen, and +let his judgment decide what was to be done. + +And yet when he returned, and with him his father and Aunt Lettice and +'Bitha, all of them sad-faced and alarmed over Dorothy's sudden +sickness, something seemed to hold back the words Mary had intended to +speak. And so she said nothing to her husband, but hid the ring away, +resolved that for the present, at least, she would hold her own counsel. + +After all--so she tried to reason--it might be nothing more than that +the young Britisher had given Dorothy the ring. + +And yet that the girl should accept such a gift from him surprised and +grieved her, knowing as she did that had there been any lovemaking +between the two, it would surely bring greater trouble than she dared +now to consider. + +Mary was one who always shrank from doing aught to cause discord; and +so, albeit with a mind filled with anxiety, she decided to keep silence. + +Dorothy's ailment proved to be an attack of brain fever, and it was +many weeks before she recovered. And when she was pronounced well +again, she went about the old house, such a pale-faced, listless shadow +of her former self that her brother watched her with troubled eyes, +while her father was well-nigh beside himself with anxiety. + +But as often as they spoke to her of their misgivings she answered that +she was entirely well, and would soon be quite as before. + +She appeared to have forgotten about the ring, and Mary waited for her +to mention it, wondering after a time that she did not. + +At last, late in January, the hated soldiers were ordered away from the +Neck; and great was the rejoicing amongst the townspeople, whose open +demonstrations evinced their delight at being freed from the petty +tyranny of their unwelcome visitors. + +It was John Devereux who brought the news, as the other members of the +family sat late one afternoon about the big fireplace in the +drawing-room. + +Aunt Lettice and Mary were busy with some matter of sewing, and 'Bitha, +with an unusually grave face, was seated between them on a low stool. +A half-finished sampler was on her knee, and the firelight quivered +along the bright needle resting where she had left off when it became +too dark for her to work. + +Dorothy was at the spinet, drawing low music from the keys, and playing +as if her thoughts were far away. + +Her father had just come from out of doors, and now sat in his big +armchair, with his hands near the blaze, for the cold had increased +with the setting of the sun. + +It had gone down half an hour before, leaving a great crimson gash in +the western sky, above which ran a bank of smoky gray clouds, where the +evening star was beginning to blink. + +It had been a day of thawing. The sun had started the icy rime to +running from the trees and shrubs, and melted the snow upon the roofs, +while the white covering of the land was burned away here and there, +until it seemed to be out at knees and elbows, where showed the brown +and dirty green of the soil. + +But an intense cold had come with the darkness, turning the melted snow +to crystal, and hanging glittering pendants from everything. + +"I wish Cousin Dot was all well, the way she used to be," sighed small +'Bitha, sitting with her rosy face so rumpled by the pressure of the +little supporting palms as to remind one of the cherubs seen upon +ancient tombstones. + +She spoke in a voice too low for any one to hear save those nearest +her; and Mary gave a warning "Hush," as she glanced at the abstracted +face of her father-in-law, who was gazing intently at the flames +leaping from the logs. + +"She 'll not hear what I say," the child went on, now with a touch of +impatience. "She often does n't hear me when I speak to her. Many +times I ask her something over and over again, when she is looking +straight at me; and then she will act as if she'd been asleep, and ask +me what I've been saying." + +"Your cousin was very ill, you must remember, 'Bitha," her grandame +explained; "and it takes her a long time to recover, and be like +herself again." + +But the child shook her blonde head with an air of profound wisdom. + +"I think it is only that bad medicine of Dr. Paine's," she said. "When +I am ill, I shall ask Tyntie to fetch me a medicine man, such as the +Indians have. I should like to see him dance and beat his drum." + +"I should think we have had enough of the sound of beating drums, +'Bitha," replied Mary, speaking so sharply as to arouse her +father-in-law into looking toward her. + +Here John Devereux, just returned from the town, came in and announced +the withdrawal of the British soldiers from the town and Neck. + +"When will they go?" his wife asked eagerly. + +"A shipload of them has already sailed,--it left the harbor before +sunset; and some of the dragoons are about starting. It did my heart +good to see the red-backs taking the road to Salem. We are well quit +of them; and when they are gone we can easily manage all the ships they +send into the harbor to annoy us or spy upon us." + +He laughed with a mingling of indignation and contempt; but his manner +changed quickly as he glanced toward his sister. + +"Dot!" he cried, "what is it, child?" And he sprang to her. + +She had turned about when he came into the room, and was now lying back +against the spinet, her head on the music-rack,--lying there +speechless, motionless; for the girl--and for the first time in her +life--had fainted. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + +An hour later, when left in her own room with Mary, Dorothy poured out +her secret sorrow. + +The others had yielded to her urging and gone to the tea-table below, +albeit with scant appetites, and with minds much troubled over the +strange weakness that had come over Dot. But Mary remained; and so it +came about that the two were now alone, Dorothy lying upon a lounge, +and Mary beside her, clasping one of her hands. + +The room was filled with weird shadows from the wood fire, which made +the only light; for Jack, at his sister's request, had carried away the +candles. + +"Are you cold?" Mary asked, feeling Dorothy shiver. And she drew the +silken cover more closely about the girl's shoulders and neck. + +"No--no," was the quick reply. "It's not that I'm cold. I'm only so +miserable that I don't know what to do with myself. Oh, Mary--if only +I might die!" And she burst into passionate sobbing. + +Mary was greatly startled; but feeling that the time was now come to +unravel the secret she was certain had been the cause of Dorothy's +illness, she waited quietly until the first burst of grief had spent +itself, while she soothed and caressed her sister-in-law as though she +were a little girl. + +Presently the sobs became less fierce, then ceased altogether, ending +with a long, quivering sigh, as from a child worn out by the storm of +its own passion. + +Mary felt that now was the opportunity for which she had been waiting. + +"Dorothy," she whispered--"dear little Dot!" + +"Yes." The word came so faintly as scarcely to be audible. + +"When are you going to open your heart to me? Don't you love nor trust +me any longer?" + +"Oh, Mary, you know I do, and always have." The girl said this with +something of her old impulsiveness, and pressed Mary's hands almost +convulsively. + +"Then will you not tell me, dear?" said Mary coaxingly, bending to kiss +the troubled face. + +There was silence, broken only by the crackling of the burning wood and +the sputtering of the sap from the logs. + +Dorothy drew a long breath, as though she had done away with wavering, +and was now resolved to speak. + +"Yes, I will," she answered. "But remember, Mary," and she seemed +filled with fear again, "you can tell no one,--no living person,--not +even Jack. At least not yet. You will promise me this?" + +"Has it aught to do with that ring?" asked Mary, before committing +herself. + +"What ring?" Dorothy's eyes opened wide, and she spoke sharply. + +"Don't you remember the ring you gave me when you were so ill, and told +me to keep for you,--a man's ring, with a ruby set in it?" + +"No." She said it vaguely, wonderingly, as if dreaming. Then she +cried in terror, "Oh, Mary, you did not show it to Jack, nor tell him +or my father of the matter?" + +"No, my dear," Mary answered with an assuring smile. "I waited until +you were well enough to tell me more, or else tell them yourself." + +"Good Mary,--good, true sister." And Dorothy pressed her lips to the +hand she clasped. + +"But the matter has given me such a heartache, Dot, for I feared I +might be doing wrong. Surely no one can love you more than your own +father and brother. Why not tell them, as well as me, of--whatever it +is?" + +"I will, Mary," Dorothy said resolutely. "I intended to, all the time. +But not yet, not yet. I want to tell you, first of all, and see if you +can think what is best to be done. And," with a little shudder, "I +thought I had lost the ring; and the first day I was able to slip out +of doors, I hunted for it where I got off the horse that night. Oh, +that dreadful night!" She almost cried out the words as the sharpness +of awakened sorrow came to her. + +"Come, Dot," Mary urged, "tell me. I'll promise to keep silent until +you bid me speak." She knew they were losing precious time, for her +husband would not be long gone, having promised to return in order that +she might go down for her own supper. + +Dorothy hesitated no longer, but, in the fewest possible words, +unburdened her heart, while Mary listened in speechless amazement. + +Her indignation and horror grew apace until the story was all told. +Then she cried: "It was a cowardly, unmanly trick,--a traitor's deed! +He is no gentleman, with all his fine pretence of manners." + +"Ah--but he is." And Dorothy sighed softly, and in a way to have +opened Mary's eyes, had she been less absorbed by the anger now +controlling her. + +"By birth, mayhap," she admitted, although reluctantly; then adding +fiercely, "he surely is not one in his acts." + +Then her voice grew gentle again, and the tears seemed to be near, as +she laid her head alongside the curly one upon the pillow. + +"Oh, my poor, poor little Dot," she said; "to think of the dreadful +thing you have been carrying in your mind all this time! Small wonder +that you were pale and sad,--it was enough to kill you." + +The words brought Dorothy's grief to her once more. Then Mary broke +down as well, and the two wept together, their heads touching each +other on the pillow. + +"And now whatever is to be done?" Mary said, as soon as her calmness +returned,--a calmness filled with indignation and resentment. "Since +this man is surely your husband, you must needs obey him, I suppose, if +he insists upon it. And now that he is going away, it would seem +natural for him to come here, despite his promise to wait until he was +asked. And I should say he would be quite sure to demand that you go +away with him. And," almost in terror, "for your father to hear of it +for the first time in such a fashion, and from him!" + +"Oh, Mary, don't talk in that way!" cried Dorothy, in affright, and +clinging still closer to her. + +"But never you fear, Dot," Mary said more encouragingly, "so long as +Jack is here to look after you. That man will never dare seek to drag +you from your father's house while Jack is about. And besides, the +townspeople would never permit him to leave the place alive, should he +attempt such a thing." + +"I won't go--I'll never go!" Dorothy exclaimed passionately. "But--" +Her voice took a different note, and she stopped. + +"But--what?" asked Mary instantly, for she heard her husband's +footsteps on the uncarpeted staircase. + +"I don't want any harm to befall him," was the tremulous answer. + +"Oh, Dot," Mary began in dismay, "can it be possible that, after all, +you--" + +But Dorothy interrupted her. + +"Hush!" she whispered, "here comes Jack." Then beseechingly, "Oh, +Mary, say once more that you'll not tell him yet." + +But her husband was already in the room, and all Mary could do was to +press Dorothy's hand. + +A little later in the evening all the members of the family were again +in the drawing-room. Dorothy, in order to relieve their anxiety, and +especially on her father's account, had joined them; and the girl now +made greater efforts than ever before to appear like herself. + +This was now easier for her, from having shared her burdensome secret +with Mary, who seemed to have taken upon her shoulders a good part of +the troublesome load. + +She carried herself with a much quieter mien than usual, but in a way +not to excite comment, save when her husband said to her as they were +closing the shutters to keep out the night and make the room still more +cosey, "What is it, sweetheart,--are you troubled over Dot?" + +"Yes," she replied, thankful that she could answer so truthfully. + +"The child is going to be as she should, I am sure," he said, glancing +over his shoulder to where his sister was sitting, close beside her +father, her head resting against his shoulder. She was smiling at +something Aunt Lettice had been telling of 'Bitha, whom she had just +been putting to bed. + +Before Mary could say anything more, a sudden clatter of hoofs outside +announced the arrival of horsemen, and a minute later the sounding of +the heavy brass knocker echoed through the hall. + +Dorothy and Mary looked at each other in alarm, the same intuition +making them fear what this might portend. + +"Whatever can it be at this hour!" exclaimed Joseph Devereux, as his +son went to answer the noisy summons. "I hope nothing is wrong in the +town." + +There came the sound of men's voices, low at first, but soon growing +louder, and then almost menacing, as the outer door was sharply closed. + +"And I say, sirrah,"--it was the voice of John Devereux--"that you +cannot see her." + +Dorothy sprang from her father's side and sped to the door, which she +flung wide open, and stood, with widening eyes and pale cheeks, upon +the threshold. A moment more, and Mary was alongside her; and then, +his face filled with amazement and anger, Joseph Devereux followed them. + +Standing with his back against the closed door, was a stalwart young +dragoon, his red uniform making a ruddy gleam in the dimly lit hall as +he angrily confronted the son of the house. + +But no sooner did he catch sight of the small figure in the open +doorway than the anger left his face, and he stood before her with +uncovered head, paying no more heed to the others than if they had been +part of the furniture in the hall. + +"Sweet Mistress Dorothy," he said,--and his eyes searched her face with +a passionate inquiry--"we are ordered away, as you may have heard. I +am leaving the town to-night, and could not go until I had seen you +once more." + +The eyes looking up into his were filled with many emotions, but +Dorothy made no reply. + +He waited a moment for her to speak. Then an eager, appealing look +came to his face, and he asked, "Have you naught to say to me--no word +for me before I go?" + +Joseph Devereux now found his voice. + +"Aught to say to ye, sirrah!" he demanded furiously. "What should a +daughter o' mine have to say to one of His Majesty's officers, who has +been to this house but once before, and then, as now, only by means of +his own audacity?" + +At the sound of this angry voice Dorothy shuddered, and tearing her +eyes from those blue ones that had not once left her face, she turned +quickly and clung to her father. + +The young man laughed, but not pleasantly, and there was a nervous +twitching of the fingers resting upon the hilt of his sword. + +"You are surely aware, sir," he said, "that I have the honor of a +slight acquaintance with your daughter. And I fail to see why I should +be insulted, simply because I was mistaken in holding it to be but +natural courtesy that I should bid her farewell." + +Here his voice broke in a way that was strange to all save Dorothy and +Mary, as he added: "We leave this place to-morrow, sir, and your +daughter and myself are never like to meet again; and I had good reason +to wish the privilege of begging her forgiveness for aught I may have +done to cause her annoyance. And if she refused me forgiveness, then +she might be pleased to wish me a right speedy meeting with a bullet +from one of her own people's guns." + +Joseph Devereux looked sorely puzzled at these strange words, which +seemed to bear some hidden meaning. Then, as he felt the quivering of +the slight form clinging to him so closely, and heard the tremulous +"Oh, father, speak him kindly," his face relaxed and he spoke less +brusquely than at first. + +"Your conduct seems rather cavalier, young sir, but we surely have no +wish to seem insulting; and as for any annoyance you may have caused my +daughter, I am ignorant o' such. It is but natural, considering the +times, that we do not relish receiving into our houses gentry who wear +such color as is your coat; and yet we are not cut-throats, either in +deed or thought. We pray and hope for the good of our country and +cause; and for such, and such only, do we think o' the use o' bullets." + +During all this time the dragoon's eyes never strayed from the curly +head pressed against the old man's arm. And now, while her father was +speaking, Dorothy's face was turned, and the big dark eyes, full of +perplexity and fear, met his own and held them. + +Mary had made a sign to her husband, and he followed her into the +drawing-room, where Aunt Lettice was still sitting before the fire, the +trembling fingers betraying her excitement as they flashed the slender +needles back and forth through the stocking she was knitting. + +"What does it all mean, dear?" she inquired, as Mary came and looked +down into the fire, while she twisted her hands together in a nervous +fashion most unusual with her. + +"It means," John Devereux answered angrily, but not loud enough to +reach the ears of those in the hall, "that there is never any telling +to what length the presuming impudence of these redcoats will go." He +ground his teeth savagely as he wondered why he had not taken the +intruder by the collar and ejected him before the others came upon the +scene; and he was now angry at himself for not having done this. + +"Whatever can he wish to say good-by to Dot for?" he muttered hastily +to his wife. "And whatever can he mean about annoying her? Annoy her, +indeed! Had he done such a thing, I should have heard of it ere this, +and he would not have gone unpunished all these days, to crawl in now +with a pretence of apology." + +"It seems to me there was little show of crawling in the way he came," +said Mary, with the ghost of a smile, and speaking only because her +husband seemed to be expecting her to say something. Her brain was in +a tumult as she wondered what would be the end of all this, and what +would--what could poor Dorothy do for her own peace of mind and that of +her father? + +She feared that, should a sudden knowledge of the truth come to him, it +might be his death-blow; and she made no doubt that if her hot-headed +husband knew it, the young dragoon would scarcely be permitted to leave +the house unscathed, if indeed he were not killed outright. And then +she thought of a duel,--of its chances, and of her husband not being +the one to survive. + +At this a low cry escaped from her lips before she could prevent it; +and her husband stepped closer to her side. + +"It is nothing--nothing," she said brokenly, in response to his anxious +questioning. "I was but thinking." + +"Thinking of what, sweetheart?" + +"If any harm should befall you," she answered. + +"Why, what harm, think you, should come to me?" And he took her hands, +holding them close, while he tried to look into her averted eyes. + +"I--don't know," she said evasively. "These are such dreadful times +that have come to us, that no one can tell what is like to happen. +Oh," with a sudden impetuous burst, more suited to Dorothy than to her +own calm self, "I wish there had never been such a nation as the +English!" + +When Joseph Devereux had done speaking, the young man turned his eyes +from the pale face in which he seemed to have been searching for some +hint or suggestion as to what he should now say. + +That his quest was fruitless,--that he found nothing, no fleeting +glance or expression, to indicate the girl's present feeling toward +him, was apparent from the look of keen disappointment, well-nigh +despair, that now settled upon his own face, making it almost ghastly +in the uncertain light. + +But despite all this, his self-control did not leave him; and after one +more glance into the dark eyes--fixed and set, as though there was no +life animating them--he drew himself erect, and made an odd gesture +with his right hand, flinging it out as if forever thrusting aside all +further thought of her. Then, without looking at her again, he +addressed her father. + +"It was not to discuss such matters that I ventured to force my way +into this house, sir," he said with a dignified courtesy hardly to be +looked for in one of his years. "It was only that I could not--or felt +that I should not--go away without holding speech with Mistress +Dorothy. It would seem that she has naught to say to me, and so I have +only to beg her pardon, and take my leave. And, sir, I entreat the +same pardon from you and the other members of your household for any +inconvenience I may have caused you and them." + +He bowed to the old gentleman, and turned slowly away. But before he +had taken many steps toward the outer door, Dorothy's voice arrested +him, and he turned quickly about. + +"Stay--wait a moment." And leaving her father's side, she went toward +the young man. + +"Believe me," she said, speaking very low and very gently, as she +paused while yet a few steps away from him, "I wish you well, not harm." + +"Do you still hold to what you told me?" he asked quickly, paying no +heed to her words. + +His voice did not reach her father's ears; and the young man's eyes +searched her face as though his fate depended upon what he might read +there. + +"Yes!" The answer was as low-pitched as his question, but firm and +fearless. And he saw the fingers of both little hands clench +themselves in the folds of her gown, while the lace kerchief crossed +over her bosom seemed to pulsate with the angry throbbing of her heart. + +"And you will never forgive me?" He spoke now in a louder tone, but +with the same pleading look in his pale face. + +Dorothy's eyes met his own fairly and steadily, but she said nothing. + +He waited a second, and then bending quickly, he clasped both her hands +and carried them to his lips. + +"God help me," he said hoarsely, as he released them,--"God help both +of us!" + +With this he turned away, and opening the door, went out into the +darkness. + +Dorothy stood perfectly still, with her father staring perplexedly into +her white face. It had all passed too quickly for him to +interfere,--to speak, even, had he been so minded. + +At the sound of the closing door John Devereux came again into the +hall; and now the noise of horses' hoofs was heard, dying away outside. + +"Dot--my child, what is it?" her father exclaimed, his heart stirred by +a presentiment of some ill he could not define. And he moved toward +the mute figure standing like a statue in the centre of the wide hall. + +But John was there before him; and as he passed his arm around her, she +started, and a dry, gasping breath broke from her lips,--one that might +have been a sob, had there been any sign of tears in the wild eyes that +seemed to hold no sight as they were turned to her brother's face. + +"Dot--little sister," he cried, "tell me--what is the matter?" + +And Mary, now close beside them, added quickly, "Tell him, Dot,--tell +him now." + +"Tell," Dorothy repeated mechanically, her voice sounding strained and +husky. "Tell--tell him yourself, Mary. Tell him that--" And she +fell, a dead weight, against her brother's breast. + + + + +CHAPTER XXV + +Whether it was due to ordinary physical causes, or was the result of +mental agitation arising from what has been told herein, cannot well be +determined; but, soon after Dorothy had been carried to her +room,--conscious, but in a condition to forbid all questioning or +explanation--her father was taken with what in the language of that day +was termed a "seizure,"--so serious as to alarm the household, and +divert all thoughts from other affairs. + +He had been pacing up and down the drawing-room, now deserted by all +save himself and his son. His hands were clasped behind him, his chin +was sunk upon his breast, and his brows knit as though from anxious +thought. + +Jack sat staring into the fire; and both were waiting for the return of +either Mary or Aunt Lettice, both of whom had gone to Dorothy's room to +give her such attention as she might require. + +It was Mary who came to announce that the girl was now better, and +that, having taken a sleeping potion administered by Aunt Lettice, she +wished to see her father. + +The old gentleman left the room with a brisk step; and Mary's eyes +followed him nervously as she went over and seated herself by her +husband. + +They were silent for a time, both of them watching the flames that +arched from the logs over the fiery valleys and miniature cliffs made +by the burnt and charred wood, until Jack asked suddenly, "Why do you +not tell me now, sweetheart?" + +Mary well knew what he meant; but she waited a moment, thinking how +best she might reveal the sad and terrible matter she had to disclose. + +"Mary,"--he now spoke a little impatiently, and as though to rouse her +from her abstraction--"tell me what all this means." + +She stole a hand into his, and then repeated to him all that Dorothy +had told her. + +He listened with fast-growing anger; and then, coupled with his first +outburst of rage against the hated redcoat, were reproaches for his +wife, that she had not sooner informed him of the trouble. + +"He would never have left the house alive, had I known it before," he +cried savagely. "As it is, I'll ride after him as soon as day comes, +and call him to an accounting for his villany,--the dastardly +scoundrel! And Mary--oh, my wife, how could you keep it from me till +now?" + +Her heart sank at this, the first note of reproof or displeasure his +voice had ever held for her. + +"You must remember, Jack," she pleaded, "how sorely I was distressed to +know what to do, for I had given my promise to Dot, and could not break +it. And you must know as well that it was not until this very evening +that I learned of the matter." + +"True," he admitted. "But"--persistently--"there was the ruby ring, +when the child was first taken ill; how could you keep that from me?" + +He spoke reproachfully, but his voice was growing softer, and his anger +was now gone, for Mary was sobbing, her head against his breast. And +this was as strange to him as his harsh words had been to her. + +"I'll never--never keep any matter from you again," she protested +brokenly. "I promise it, Jack, for now I see it was very wrong." + +"There--there, sweetheart," he said soothingly, as he stroked her +bright hair,--"'t is all well for us now, and will ever be, if you but +keep to what you say. But Dot--poor little Dot!" And his anger came +again. + +"Oh, that villain, that cursed villain,--but he shall reckon with me +for this outrage! And 't is well for that scoundrel Weeks that he's +been made to flee the town for his seditious sentiments and preachings." + +"But," Mary explained, "Dot said he was forced to do it, at peril of +his life; that he--the Englishman--held a pistol to his head and swore +he'd shoot him if he refused." + +"Pah," said Jack, contemptuously, "he'd never have dared go so far as +that. Master Weeks is but a poor coward." Then he asked quickly, +"Think you, Mary, that Dot is telling our father aught of the matter +now?" + +"I cannot say," was his wife's irresolute answer. "I fear so, and yet +I cannot but hope so, as well,--for how can another ever tell him?" + +"Aye," groaned the young man; "it will come nigh to killing him." + +But Dorothy had not told her father anything. No sooner had he come to +her bedside than her eyes filled with a contented light, and slipping +her hand within his close clasp, she fell tranquilly asleep, too +stunned and numbed by physical weakness and contending emotions,--her +senses too dulled from the effects of Aunt Lettice's draught--to find +words wherein to pour out her heart to him. + +He left her sleeping quietly, and returned to those below; and soon +thereafter the seizure came, and he fell back in his chair, speechless, +with closed eyes and inert limbs. + + +It was Mary and Aunt Lettice who ministered to him, with the help of +his son and the faithful Tyntie, who was summoned from Dorothy's room, +where she had been sent to watch the sleeping girl. + +Leet was too old and slow of movement to be entrusted with the +summoning of Dr. Paine; and Trent, who slept in one of the outer +buildings, was aroused and despatched forthwith, with orders to use all +possible speed, as they feared the master was already dead or dying. + +They carried him at once to his own bed, where he lay unconscious, with +no change in his appearance or breathing; and his son, sitting beside +him, gazed with agonized eyes upon the white face lying against the +pillows, his own face almost as white, and seeming to have aged under +this flood of sorrow now opened in their midst. + +It was well along toward morning, although yet dark, with the sky +cloudless and gemmed with stars, before Dr. Paine arrived. + +The first thing the bustling little man did was to bleed his patient, +as was then the practice in treating most ailments. Its present +efficacy was soon apparent, for it was not long before the labored, +irregular breathing became more natural and the old man opened his eyes. + +But there was an unusual look in them,--one that never went away. And +although after a time he recovered some of his strength, and was able +to go about the house, the hale, rugged health and vigorous manhood +were gone forever, and Joseph Devereux remained but a shadow of his +former self. + +His days were all alike,--passed in sitting before the fire downstairs, +or else dozing in his own room; and he had neither care nor thought for +the matters that had once been of such moment to him. + +The others were with him constantly, to guard against possible accident +or harm, as well as to do all in their power in smoothing the way for +the loved one they felt was soon to leave them. And he, as well as +themselves, albeit he never spoke of it, seemed to understand +this,--that they, like him, were waiting for the end, when he should be +summoned by the voice none can deny. + +And thus he remained day after day, spending much of his time with the +other members of his family,--listening apparently to all they might +say to him or to one another; but sitting with silent lips, and eyes +that seemed to grow larger and more wondrous in expression and light, +as if already looking into that mysterious world,-- + + "Beyond the journeyings of the sun, + Where streams of living waters run,"-- + +that world whose glories no speech might convey to earthly +understanding. + +"I can never tell him now," Dorothy said with bitter sorrow, addressing +Mary, as the two were alone in the dining-room. It was one of the days +when her father had risen for his morning meal, and, after sitting with +them awhile, had returned to his room to lie down. + +"'T is best not, dear," Mary assented. "Do not burden his heart now, +for it would only give him bitter sorrow to brood over. Jack knows the +whole matter, and he can do all that is to be done." + +"And what is that?" Dorothy asked, speaking a little sharply. + +"Call the man to a strict account," was Mary's reply, with anger now +showing in her voice. + +"No, Mary, no," cried Dorothy, with much of her old spirit. "That must +not be,--at least not now." Then more gently, as she observed Mary's +look of surprise, "Naught that he nor any one can say or do will mend +what has been done; and it is my earnest wish that the matter be let +alone, just as it is, for the present. Perhaps the future may show +some way out of it." But she spoke as though saying one thing and +meaning quite another. + +"Will you tell Jack all this?" Mary asked, with an odd look. + +"Me?" cried Dorothy, in great alarm. "No, no, Mary; you must do that. +I do not wish to have him speak to me of the matter; I could not bear +it." And she covered her face with her hands, as if to shut out the +very prospect of such a thing. + +Mary's white forehead wrinkled as though from perplexity, while her +slender fingers tapped nervously upon the arm of her chair. + +She knew not what to make of the girl,--of her words and actions, of +her strange and sudden sickness and faintings, of all that had come to +her since the advent of this young Britisher. + +And within these past few minutes a new anxiety had found its way into +her mind, and this prompted her to ask, "Can it be, Dot, that you have +permitted this stranger to come between you and your only brother, who +loves you best of all in the world?" + +But Dorothy evaded the question. "That he does not," she asserted, +taking her hands from in front of her face and trying to smile; "'t is +you he loves best of all." + +Mary flushed a little, but replied with tender earnestness, "But you +know, Dot, he and I are one. We both love you next to each other, and +we wish to serve you and assure your happiness." + +Dorothy sighed and looked down at the floor. "I doubt if I shall ever +be happy again, Mary," she said; "and the best way to serve me is to +leave me alone and let me go my own way." + +She spoke as though wishing to dismiss the matter, and, rising from her +chair, walked over to the window and stood looking off over the meadow +lands and toward the sea. + +It was a cheering, hopeful sight, for the snow was gone, and everything +in nature was beginning to show a touch of the coming spring. + +Later that same morning they were in Mary's room, the young wife busy +with some sewing, while Dorothy, with much of the former color showing +in her face, was moving restlessly about. + +"Dorothy!" + +Mary spoke suddenly, as though impelled by a hasty resolution, and +there was a look in her blue eyes that made a fitting accompaniment to +her words; but she kept them averted from Dorothy, who had turned and +was coming slowly toward her. + +"Dorothy," she repeated, as the girl drew close to her, "where is that +ruby ring?" + +Dorothy came to a stop, and every drop of blood seemed to find its way +to her face. + +"Eh,--ring,--what ring?" She glanced at her hands, and then at Mary's +face, still turned partially away from her. + +"That ruby ring I gave you back, and advised that you throw it into the +fire or into the sea, and with it all thought of the dastardly giver." + +Dorothy did not reply, and Mary now looked at her as she said slowly +and distinctly, "If you cannot tell, I can. It is over your heart, +hanging about your neck on a chain." + +The girl gave a gasp, and Mary saw her face paling, only to flush +again, while the dark eyes filled with tears. + +"Oh, Dot," she cried, astonished and angry, "how can you love such a +man?" + +Dorothy threw herself on her knees and hid her face in Mary's lap, +sobbing as if the words had broken a seal set to keep this knowledge +from even her own heart. + +"I don't know, Mary, but I do--I do love him, and have, for always. +And now he has gone--gone away, thinking I hate him, and I may never +see him again." + +Mary put her arms around the little form, and used all her efforts to +soothe the passionate outburst. She could not but feel that she had +been wise in thus forcing Dorothy to open her heart, for not only did +she know the girl would feel better for having spoken, but she herself +had a new and most important fact to guide her own future action. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI + +Mary felt that she must lose no time in making her husband as wise as +herself with respect to Dorothy's real sentiments, and in having him +understand that he could not bring any harm to the young Britisher +without making his sister all the more unhappy. + +She wondered what Jack would say--as to the effect it would have upon +his temper and actions. But she was determined upon this,--that if he +showed resentment or anger, she would assert herself in Dorothy's +defence, feeling as she did that it was too late to do other than +submit to what fate had brought about, and all the more especially, +since Dorothy had confessed to loving this man. + +"I could almost wish he had been killed outright the morning I made him +tumble over the rocks," she said to herself, "or that he had fallen +into the sea, never to be seen again." Then, realizing that this was +little short of murder, she shrank from such musings, shocked to find +herself so wicked. + +There came still another burden of sorrow when she imparted the whole +truth to her husband. + +He listened with a brooding face, only the unusual glitter in his eyes +showing how it stirred him. Then, after a long silence, while he +appeared to be turning the matter in his mind, he exclaimed, not +angrily, but with nothing showing in his voice save bitter +self-reproach: "Blind fool that I've been, seeking to keep my little +sister a child in thought. And right here, under my very eyes, has she +become a woman, both in love and suffering!" + +He sprang to his feet and began to pace back and forth, his wife +watching him with troubled eyes. Presently he came and looked down +into her face. + +His own was pale, but it had a set, determined expression, as though +the struggle were over, and he had turned his back upon all the hopes +he had builded for his beloved sister,--upon what might have been, but +now never to be. + +"Sweetheart," he said, "there is one other we are bound in honor to +take into our confidence, to tell all we know of this sad matter, and +that is Hugh Knollys. He is not like to return here this many a day; +still it is possible he may, or that I may be sent to the neighborhood +of Boston before the summer comes. But whichever way I see him, I +shall have to tell him the truth. Poor old Hugh!" + +"Why, John!" But Mary's eyes filled with a look bespeaking full +knowledge of what he was to say, although she had never suspected it +until now. + +He told her of all that passed between Hugh and himself that night, so +many months ago. And when he finished, she could only sigh, and repeat +his own words, "Poor Hugh!" + +"Aye, poor Hugh, indeed, for I know the boy's heart well. It will be a +dreadful thing for him to face, and with his hands tied, as are my own, +against doing aught to the Britisher because his welfare matters so +much to Dot." + +Then he added almost impatiently: "I wish the child would let me talk +with her. She must, before I go away, else I'll speak without her +consent. So long as we are situated as now, it may do no harm to let +the matter drift along; but if I have to leave home--" + +"Oh, Jack, don't speak of such a thing," Mary interrupted. And rising +quickly, she laid her hand on his shoulder as though to hold him fast. + +"Why not, sweetheart?" he said, compelled to smile at her anxiety. "We +know what we have to face in these distracting times; we knew it when +we married. Matters grow worse with every week, each day almost. But +we must be brave, my darling, and you will best hold me to my duty by +keeping a stout heart, no matter whether I go or stay. And go I am +pretty sure to, the same as every other man in the town, for we may +look, any day, for a battle somewhere about Boston." + +Mary clung to him shudderingly, but was silent. + +Hugh Knollys had been all this time at Cambridge, where troops were +mustering from every part of the land; and many men from Marblehead +were there or in the neighborhood. + +They had heard from him but once, and then through Johnnie Strings, +who, after this last trip--now over a month since--had returned to +Cambridge with a very indefinite notion as to when he would come back +to the old town. + +The pedler also reported having seen Aunt Penine, who was quartered +near Boston, at the house of some royalist relatives of her brother's +wife,--he himself having left his home in Lynn and taken up arms for +the King. + +Mistress Knollys was also away, for she had closed her homestead and +gone to stop with an only sister living at Dorchester,--doing this for +safety, and before the soldiers left the Neck. + +A decided feeling of impending war was now sharpened and well defined, +and all were waiting for the actual clash of arms. + +Late in February, His Majesty's ship "Lively," mounting twenty guns, +arrived in the harbor and came to anchor off the fort; and her officers +proceeded to make themselves fully as obnoxious as had the hated +soldiers. + +They diligently searched all incoming vessels that could by any pretext +be suspected; and where they found anything in the nature of military +stores, these were confiscated. + +One vessel, carrying a chest of arms destined for the town, was, +although anchored close to the "Lively," boarded one night by a party +of intrepid young men under the lead of one Samuel R. Trevett, who +succeeded in removing the arms, which they concealed on shore. + +Later on in the month a body of troops landed one Sunday morning on +Homans' Beach; and after loading their guns, the soldiers took up their +march through the town. + +The alarm drums were beaten at the door of every church to warn the +worshippers, and it was not long before the hitherto quiet streets were +thronged with an excited crowd of indignant citizens, gathered in +active defence of their rights. + +They suspected the object of the enemy to be the seizure of several +pieces of artillery secreted at Salem. But in this--or whatever was +their purpose--they were baffled, meeting with such determined +opposition as to be forced to march back to the shore and re-embark, +with no more disastrous result to either side than the usual number of +bloody faces and bruised fists, such as had distinguished the sojourn +of the regulars upon the Neck. + +Aside from these two events, the days in the old town passed much as +before, despite the ever-increasing certainty of war,--this leading the +townsfolk to go armed night and day, and to keep close watch from the +outlooks for any sudden descent the enemy might seek to make. + +The last vestige of snow was gone from the shaded nooks amid the trees +on the hills,--the land, swept dry and clear of all signs of winter, +was waiting for the sun to warm the brown earth into life; and in the +hollows of the woods, the tender shoots of the first wild flowers were +already showing, where the winds had brushed away the fallen leaves of +the year before. + +It was the twenty-first of April, and the expected battle had come at +last, for Lexington was two days old. The news was brought into town +before the morning of the twentieth, and had resulted in the sudden +departure of many of the younger men for the immediate scene of action. + +Among these was John Devereux; and Mary was to accompany her husband to +the town, in order that she might be with him until the very last +moment. + +The parting between father and son was full of solemnity, for each felt +it to be the last time they would meet on earth. + +"God bless and keep you, my dear boy," said Joseph Devereux, showing +more of his natural vigor than for many weeks past, as he fixed his +large eyes upon the handsome young face, pale, but filled with +resolution and high purpose. "God bless and keep you in the struggle +in which I know you will do your part unflinchingly. Never be guilty +of aught in the future, as you have never in the past, to stain the +good name you bear." + +Fearing that which he deemed a reflection upon his manhood, the young +man did not reply in words, but threw his arms about his father's neck +in a way he had not done since boyhood; and the old man alone knew how +something wet still lay upon his withered cheek after his son had left +him. + +The last person to whom Jack said farewell was his sister. She had +stolen away to her own room, and there he found her weeping. + +"Little Dot," he said in a choking voice, opening his arms to her as he +paused just across the threshold. + +She looked up, and with a low cry--half of pain, half joy--fled to him; +and with this the shadow, almost estrangement, that had come between +them was swept away forever. + +He held her tight against his breast, and let her weep silently for a +time, before he said very gently, "Dot, my little girl, I must speak to +you on a certain matter before I go away." + +She raised her head and kissed him; and this he took as permission to +tell her what was upon his mind. + +"Dot, I cannot go from you without having everything between us the +same as has been all our lives, until these past few sad months." + +At this she clung all the closer to him. + +"You were badly treated, little one," he continued, "shamefully +treated; and it was a great grief to me that you did not come and trust +your brother to the end of telling him the whole matter at the very +first. But 't is all past now, and words are of no worth. Only this I +must know from your own lips,--if you love this man who has forced +himself to be your husband, and if you love him sufficiently to leave +us all, should he so bid you?" + +"That he will never do," Dorothy answered, her voice full of sad +conviction. "He has gone, thinking I hate him." + +"And why did you send him away with such a notion as that?" + +"Oh, Jack," the girl cried piteously, "cannot you see--can you not +understand? I could not go and leave you all. I dared not tell at the +time all that had happened--I did not know what to do." + +"And you love not the cause he fights for, though you love the man +himself?" And a faint smile touched his lips. + +"That is it, Jack," she answered, relieved at being understood. "You +have spoken my own feelings. I could not leave father; had I done so, +think of what would have come to me now." + +"Poor father, 't is well he will never need to know. Well, Dot," and +he tried to speak cheerily, "although 't is a sad tangle now, perhaps +time will straighten it somewhat; and all we can do is to wait and +hope." + +"And you'll never say aught to--him, should you two meet?" Dorothy +asked wistfully, a burning color deepening in her cheeks. + +"Should he and I meet," the young man said with a scowl, "it is not +likely to be in a fashion that will permit discourse of any sort." +Then he regretted his words, for his sister shivered and hid her face +over his heart. + +"Come, Dot,"--and now he spoke more calmly, while he caressed the curly +head lying against his breast--"try to keep a brave heart. You have +done no wrong, little one, and we are all in God's hands. Pray you to +Him for your brother while he is from home; and pray as well that all +these sad matters will come right in the end." + +He pressed a kiss upon her tearful face, and was gone. + +Arriving in the town, he found his companions ready to depart; and +before sunset he was upon the road to Boston, leaving his wife to stop +for a day with Mistress Horton. + +The following evening it was apparent that the end was coming fast to +Joseph Devereux. + +Dorothy was alone with the stricken man, Aunt Lettice, who took 'Bitha +with her, having gone into the town early that afternoon, to make some +purchases, intending to return later with Mary. + +Dr. Paine had told them how the end would probably come; and it was as +he had said. He himself was away toward Boston, where his services +were most needed, and there was no other physician for Dorothy to +summon, even had she felt it necessary. + +But she well knew the uselessness of this. No human skill could +prolong the life of him who had been stricken down late in the +afternoon, and now lay unconscious, breathing heavily, like a strong +swimmer breasting heavy seas. And what sea beats so relentlessly as do +the black waters of Death? + +Dorothy had stolen for a moment to the window, scarcely able to endure +to sit longer by the bed, listening to those gasping breaths that wrung +her heart with the passionate sense of impotence to help, or even ease, +the dying man. + +Curled up in the broad window-seat, her face turned from the dimly +lighted room to the fast-falling night outside, the past, and its +contrast with the present, seemed to unroll before her with a vividness +of detail such as we are told comes to one who is drowning. + +All that was happy seemed to lie behind her; all the cheer and comfort +of the old home were gone, never to return--no more than would her +father's protecting love. + +And he--her father--was now drawing nigh to the day that knows no +darkness, no dawning; while for her the night shadows of the bitter +parting were closing about, dark and cold. + +The incoming tide was almost at the full, and the surf sounded like a +moaning voice from the sea. It was to the young girl's tortured +imagination a warning voice, bidding her heed that the fashion of this +world must pass away, and with it the souls of its children, who, like +merry little ones gathering flowers in fair fields, unheeding, +unthinking, grow grave only as the day draws on. It told her that they +grow wise--sad, perhaps--as the sun sinks; and that when the darkness +falls they lie down to sleep, with tired brains and heavy hearts, all +their buoyancy gone with the day's brightness. They have come to know +its bitter lesson of weary struggle, of sore disappointment and +heart-breaks. + +The sky was filled with broken banks of ragged clouds that sent great +tattered streamers across the zenith, entangling the glittering stars +that seemed struggling to push them away, as if they were smothering +draperies, from before their silvery faces. + +Over in the east a faint spot of dusky red was showing in a cloud-rift. +It was the rising moon, seeming to battle, like the stars, with the +black hosts seeking to envelop it. It fought bravely, like a valiant +soldier, and emerging triumphantly at last, threw a bar of dull red, +like a pathway, across the sullen floor of the ocean. + +This reached from the shore, out over the water, far away, to end in +the heavy shadows looming against the horizon like the walls of the +City of Death, whose angel keeper was even now unbarring the gates for +the call that should bring the soul of Joseph Devereux within their +misty portals. + +Dwellers by the sea have a belief that the souls of those who are +called, go ever with the turning of the tide. It was now only an hour, +or less, to that; and Dorothy was waiting with a trembling heart for +the ebb of the sea to carry her father away to the world of shadows. + +He lay motionless, as though his soul were already departed, save for +that same heavy breathing. + +There was no change in this. It was as regular in its hoarse panting +as the swinging of the pendulum in the clock outside the door,--the old +clock that had seen both joy and sorrow passing before it through many +generations, and had seemed to look with friendliness upon every +eye--blue, black, gray, or brown--uplifted to its great face,--eyes +that had long since been closed, some of them not even having time to +grow dim with age or be moistened by tears of grief. + +"Gone--gone--going," it sighed in Dorothy's ears, until she covered +them with her hands to shut out the sound, and with it the moaning of +the surf. + +"Dot, my little girl!" A faint voice broke the stillness as the heavy +breathing was hushed. + +She flew to the bedside and knelt there, while she pressed her warm +mouth against the nerveless hand, whose chill seemed to strike her very +heart. Her father felt the quivering of her lips, and tried to lift +his other hand to her head. + +She knew this without seeing it, and moving yet closer to him, she laid +her face over his heart, her head fitting into the hollow of his arm as +she clasped his hand with her small fingers. + +"Dot, my baby--oh, my little girl!" + +The words came with all his old strength of voice, and she felt that he +was weeping. + +Startled at this outbreak, and alarmed for fear of some injury it might +do him, all the girl's grief became swallowed up in the new energy that +now surged through her. + +"Hush!" she said soothingly, placing her face against his own. "Hush, +dear! Never mind me; I shall be well enough. I know--I know," choking +back a sob that rose in her throat like a stinging blow, "that all is +for the best, 'that He doeth all things well.'" + +"Yes, yes," her father murmured drowsily, as though calmed by her words +and caresses. "Aye, my child, 'though I walk through the valley of the +shadow of death, I will fear no evil.' God is on the other side, +waiting--waiting--for me." + +His eyelids had fallen again, and the closing words came in a faint +whisper. He was now breathing heavily as before, and was seemingly +unconscious; and Dorothy felt that he had come back for a moment from +out the dark shadows gathering to shut them apart, so that he might +speak to her once more in the voice she loved so dearly. + +She did not stir, but remained kneeling by the bed, his arm around her, +and his hand clasping her fingers with marvellous firmness. + +She could feel and hear the feeble beating of the loving heart that had +ever held her so tenderly. Throbbing against her cheek, its pulses +seemed to keep rhythm with the mournful booming of the surf on the +shore. + +Suddenly, like a mighty ocean of falling waters, there came, to +overwhelm her unnatural calm, the thought of what her world would be +when that true, loyal heart was stilled,--when she could only lay her +cheek against the earth that shut it away from her. + +A giant hand seemed clutching at her throat; the grief, rising in +mighty bursts, could find no vent in tears, and a gasping cry sprang +from her lips, causing her to stir unconsciously within his arm. + +His grasp tightened upon her hand, and her acutely listening ears heard +him whisper brokenly, "'Lo, I am with you alway, even unto the end.'" + +The words brought to her a strange comfort. And now his feeble hand +caressed her head in a wandering, fluttering way, and she felt as in +her baby days when he used to rock her to sleep; for his failing voice +began to croon the old hymn he so often sang to her then. + +She crept still closer to him. She was quieted for the moment, and +filled with an awe as if angels were all about them. Her wild grief +was hushed,--the agony of clutching pain in her throat dissolved itself +in silent tears, and the sound of the surf now seemed a peaceful, +soothing voice. + +She felt as though she were going with her father along the way through +the dark valley,--even to the very gates of jasper and pearl that would +give him entrance to the City of Light, then to close, leaving her +without. + +Fainter, yet fainter grew his voice, at length dying away altogether. +She heard her name breathed softly, just as he used to speak it when +she, a little maid, was nestling in his arms, and he wished to assure +himself of her being asleep. + +"Yes," she whispered. + +"My baby, 't is growing dark, blackly dark, little one. Ye'd better +get to bed." + +She made no answer--she could not, but listened breathlessly. + +"My baby--my baby Dot. God keep my baby!" + +The words were scarcely spoken, but came like long sighs, to mingle and +die away with the night wind moaning outside the window. And it was as +if the surf caught them, and repeated them to the watching stars. + +"God--keep--my--baby!" + +The room was still--still as the great loving heart under her cheek. +And the tide was on the ebb. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII + +The summer days found Glover's regiment stationed, a portion at +Cambridge, and the remainder on the high grounds of Roxbury, where were +also all the other Massachusetts troops, as well as some of those from +Connecticut. + +John Devereux, being on duty at Cambridge, had approved of his wife +accepting Mistress Knollys' invitation to stop with her in Dorchester. +Her brother-in-law had been killed at Bunker Hill, and his devoted +wife, broken-hearted, died soon thereafter, thus leaving Mistress +Knollys entirely alone. + +Mary insisted upon Dorothy accompanying her, for the girl had become +greatly changed since her father's death, and Mary, as well as Aunt +Lettice, deemed it wise to try the diverting effect of new scenes and +associations. Then, too, Dorothy had always been a prime favorite with +Mistress Knollys, and returned sincerely the good lady's motherly +affection. + +Thus it was that Aunt Lettice and 'Bitha were left alone at the +Devereux farm, whose flocks and stores had already been much depleted +by generous contributions sent up to the patriot army about Boston. + +Mary saw her husband at rare intervals, when it was possible for him to +snatch a few hours from his post of duty; but Hugh never came. + +Mary could readily divine the reason for this, and so could Mistress +Knollys, albeit the subject was never mentioned between them: for soon +after their arrival, Mary, with Dorothy's consent, had told her of all +that related to the young Englishman. + +At first the old lady was filled with righteous indignation. But when +she came to understand and realize how it was with Dorothy's own +feelings, she accepted the result with the philosophy that was a part +of her sweet nature,--even smiling to herself when she thought of the +young man's rare audacity. + +She had, despite her white hairs, a spice of romance yet left in her +heart. And perhaps the memory of her own elopement, in the face of her +parents' prohibition, went far toward softening her feeling in favor of +the daring offender. + +But she shook her head sadly as she thought of her own boy, the secret +of whose heart she had long suspected, although he had not given her +his confidence; and her eyes moistened as she realized the downfall of +the cherished castle she had been building for him, with this girl--of +her own choosing--for his wife. + +Late one September day, Johnnie Strings brought word to Dorothy that +Aunt Penine lay at death's door, and was craving to see her. + +It was decided that she had better accede to her aunt's request, and +that Mary should go with her; and so, in pursuance of arrangements made +by the pedler, they started on horseback the following morning, with +that wary individual as escort, and rode directly to a certain tavern +just inside the American lines, and known as "The Gray Horse Inn," +where they procured a conveyance to carry them the remainder of the +journey. + +Strings himself did not deem it wise to venture nearer than this to +Boston, as he was expected to hold himself in readiness at the inn to +receive some papers to be delivered to the Commander-in-Chief at +Cambridge. + +It was late in the afternoon when the two girls, after having seen Aunt +Penine and made peace with her, hurried down the street toward the +place where their carriage was awaiting them. + +The day was gray, with clouds gathering slowly, when they had set out +on foot from this point for their visit to Aunt Penine, their driver +having considered it better that he should wait for them near the house +of an acquaintance, whose true sentiments were known to only a few of +his countrymen. And now, as they returned, a strong east-wind was +making mournful soughings in the trees, and a downpour of rain seemed +imminent from the solidly massed clouds overhead. + +As they came down the steps of the house, Mary noticed a man across the +street, lounging under the elms, as though awaiting some one. His tall +figure was well wrapped in a riding-cloak, whose folds he held in a way +to conceal his lower features, while his hat, slouched over his +forehead, made it still more difficult to obtain a clear view of his +face. + +"Look at that man over there," she said nervously, clutching Dorothy's +arm. + +"Yes, I see," Dorothy replied with no show of interest, as they started +down the street. "What of him?" + +She was paying little heed to anything about her, for the meeting with +Aunt Penine had aroused to new and acute paining the sense of her own +great loss. + +This, thanks to the diversion afforded by her new surroundings, had +begun to be a little dulled; for when one is young it is no easy matter +for any sorrow, however heavy, to utterly crush out all the light and +hope. + +Then, too, it had seemed to Dorothy a most marvellous thing to see Aunt +Penine so softened and repentant. And this of itself served to +increase the homesick longing the very sight of her had brought to the +girl,--a craving for the happy days of the dear old home, when a united +family gathered under its roof, with no war-clouds darkening their +hearts. + +"I am sure he is the same man I noticed walking after us when we came; +and if so, why has he been standing there all this time?" + +Mary now spoke excitedly, and as though alarmed, glancing now and then +over her shoulder at the cause of her fears. + +"He is probably attending to his own affairs, and giving no thought to +ours," Dorothy answered, without looking in the stranger's direction. +"If not, what then? It will be daylight for two hours to come, and in +five minutes we will be where the man is waiting for us." + +Mary said nothing more, but ventured to steal a parting glance as they +turned the corner of the street; and she was much disconcerted to see +the man still appearing to follow them. + +They soon reached their destination and found the vehicle waiting. A +minute more and they were seated, the driver gathered the reins, and +his horses set off at a pace bespeaking their impatience to return to +their stalls at the Gray Horse Inn. + +The rain held back until they drew up in front of the entrance. Indeed +it seemed as if the storm had waited for the girls to reach shelter, +for no sooner were they inside the house than it let go with a sudden +burst, doubtless setting in for an "all-nighter," as Johnnie Strings +averred when he met them at the door. + +It was impossible for them to continue their journey on horseback that +night, and the landlord refused to send the carriage to Dorchester, by +reason of all his horses being needed early the following morning to +carry some supplies to the outposts. And so, yielding to the +inevitable, Mary and Dorothy decided to pass the night at the inn, +letting Johnnie Strings, who cared nothing for the storm, go on and +explain matters to Mistress Knollys. + +The Gray Horse Inn was an old building, whose precise age none could +tell. The street whereon it stood was little more than a lane, leading +off the main thoroughfare to Boston; and a person outside could easily +glance through the lower windows, when these were unshuttered, as no +shrubbery veiled them. Inside it was cheery and well-kept, and its +rambling style of construction afforded accommodation for a surprising +number of guests. + +Back of the building extended a cornfield, which ended in a tract of +woodland, while upon its townward side was a sturdy growth of oak and +nut trees, encircling the cornfield, and running quite to the line of +the woods beyond. + +Mistress Trask, the landlady, gave the two girls a small parlor, +communicating with a sleeping-room; and here their supper was served. + +As the buxom dame brought in the well-filled tray, a loud, aggressive +voice came through the open door, evidently from the taproom, where a +fire blazing on the hearth--although the night was barely cold--tempted +the wayfarers to congregate. + +"An' I tell ye," said the unseen speaker, "that Boston is the heart an' +mouth o' the colonies. The wind that blows from Boston will set every +weathercock from New Hampshire to Georgia." + +A silence followed, suggestive of no one caring to dispute the +assertion. + +Mistress Trask, noting Mary's expression of annoyance and her glance +toward the door, made haste to close it. Then she explained, as she +began setting the food upon the table: "That's only farmer Gilbert. +He's a decent enough body when sober, but once he gets a bit o' liquor +under his waistcoat, it seems to fly straight to his brains and addle +'em. And then he do seem fairly grieving for a fisticuff with all +creation." + +"I surely trust he will make no such disturbance while we are in the +house," Mary said uneasily. + +"Never ye have any fear, dearie," replied the good woman. She was an +old acquaintance of Johnnie Strings, and he had duly impressed her as +to the high standing of the guests he left in her charge. + +"Never ye fear," she repeated. "The sight of a real lady is sure to be +a check on his tongue an' manners; an' I'll see to it that he knows who +be in this room. 'T is true sorry I am to have to put ye on this lower +floor; but ye see, we've strict orders to keep the whole o' the upper +floor for some gentry who will be here by late evening." + +Then bending her head quickly, she whispered with great impressiveness, +"Who, think ye, we expect?" + +"I have no idea," was Mary's indifferent answer. She had scarcely +heard the question, for wondering what it might be that Dorothy was +thinking about as she stood by the window, from which she had drawn +away the curtain. + +Certain it was that the girl could distinguish nothing in the pitchy +darkness outside, even if she could see through the rain-dashed panes, +that looked as if encrusted with glass beads. + +Mistress Trask's information--whispered, like her question, as if she +feared the furniture might hear her words--caused Mary to sit very +erect, with kindling eyes and indrawn breath. + +"Hush-h," warned the landlady, with a broad smile of delight at the +surprise she had aroused. "Hush-h; we was ordered on no account to let +it get out." + +"Dot, did you hear what she said?" Mary asked, when the two, left to +themselves, sat down to the tempting supper. + +Dorothy shook her head, wondering the while at Mary's agitation. + +"She said," and Mary lowered her own voice, "that the +Commander-in-Chief is to arrive here soon, and that he will stop here +all night, as there is to be a meeting of some sort with many of his +principal officers." + +"General Washington!" A new light came to Dorothy's face, kindling a +rush of color in her cheeks, and sending a glitter from her eyes that +routed all their sad abstraction. + +Mary nodded. + +"I wish we could see him," said Dorothy. "Oh--I must get a peep at +him." + +"We will certainly try to see him," Mary agreed, adding eagerly, "And +oh, Dot--mayhap Jack will be of them." + +"And perhaps Hugh," Dorothy said impulsively. Then quickly, as she saw +the sudden change in Mary's face, "Whatever is the matter with Hugh +Knollys, I wonder? He has not been to see his mother since we went to +stop with her; and I have noticed that whenever his name is mentioned, +you and Jack--and even his mother--look oddly. Has he done anything +amiss?" + +"Nothing, indeed, that I know of." And Mary lifted her cup of tea so +that it hid her eyes for the moment. + +"I have wished so often that he would come--I should like to see him +once more. How long--how very long it seems since he left us last +fall!" Dorothy sighed; and Mary knew it was not for Hugh, but because +of all that had happened since his going. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII + +"Oh, Mary, which one of them do you suppose is he?" whispered Dorothy, +as the two girls hung over the balustrade of the upper hall, watching +the figures entering through the outer door, all of them so muffled in +storm-cloaks as to look precisely alike, save as to height. + +The landlord, with much obsequious bustling, had hastened forward to +meet them. His wife was beside him, and she had just summoned a +servant to assist in taking the wet wrappings from the new arrivals as +she stood courtesying before them. + +"The rooms be aired, lighted, and fires made, as ordered, sir," Trask +was saying. + +In one hand he held aloft a clumsy brass candlestick holding three +lighted candles, while the other hand was placed over his heart, as if +that member needed to be repressed under the well-filled proportions of +his ample waistcoat; and he was bowing with great servility before a +figure whose stature far exceeded that of the other new-comers, but +whose face, hidden by his hat, could not be seen by the eager onlookers +at the top of the stairs. + +"Oh, Dot, they are coming straight up here," Mary gasped; and both +girls sprang back in dismay at sight of the procession beginning to +file up the stairway, preceded by the landlord, who now carried a +candlestick in either hand. + +Scarcely knowing what they were doing, and intent solely upon +concealing themselves, they darted through the doorway of the nearest +room, which was lighted only by a cheery wood fire. + +"They will surely see us as they go by," whispered Mary, for, once +inside, they saw that the door by which they had entered was in the +extreme corner of the room, rendering the entire interior visible to a +passer-by. + +"Let us shut the door," Dorothy suggested. + +But Mary said quickly, "No, that will never do. The landlord may have +left it open, and would notice it being closed." + +It had not occurred to them that all this was probably on account of +the room being one of those assigned to the new guests, for Mary had +given but slight heed to what Mistress Trask said as to the entire +upper floor being taken, and Dorothy had heard naught of the matter +beyond what Mary told her. + +"Here is another room," said the younger girl joyfully, for her alert +eyes had spied a half-closed door communicating with an inner and dark +apartment. + +It took them only a moment to gain this place of refuge and shut the +door; then, standing close to it, they listened for any sound to +indicate the passage of the procession down the hall, and so leave them +an opportunity to return unobserved to their own apartments. + +"I wish we had never done so foolish a thing," Mary said in a low +voice. She was breathing rapidly, and trembling from agitation. + +"So do I--as it is," was Dorothy's hurried answer. "But if I only +could have seen him, so as to know him, I should not care." + +The next minute they were awakened to new dismay by the sound of heavy +footsteps entering the outer room. Then they heard the landlord say, +"This is the room, your Excellency; I trust it be such as to suit you." + +A calm, full-toned voice replied: "Thank you, landlord; everything +seems quite as it should be. The other gentlemen will be here shortly; +show them up at once, when they arrive." + +"Yes, sir--certainly, sir," Trask replied. "This is the bedroom, sir." +And the sound of his heavy feet approaching the door caused still +greater terror to the trembling girls. + +The latch was actually lifted, when the other voice arrested any +farther movement by saying with a note of impatience: "Yes, yes--very +well, landlord. We should like supper as speedily as it can be served, +and as there will be many of us, we will have it downstairs." + +Trask seemed now to take his leave, for they heard the outer door +close. Then the same voice, mellow and dignified as at first, came to +them again. + +"No doubt, Dalton, they have been detained by the storm." + +"Faith, sir, 't is little such a man as Glover cares for water," +replied another voice, more jovial and evidently younger; "although, to +be sure, he may prefer the water to be salt, being more used to that +flavor." + +Mary pulled Dorothy by the arm. + +"We must walk straight out of here," she whispered, "this very minute. +There is nothing else for us to do." + +"Well,--go on." The words came brokenly from the younger girl's lips, +for her heart was beating in a way to make her actually dizzy. + +Then, as Mary hesitated, Dorothy's sturdy self-reliance returned; and +pushing the door wide open, she passed in front of her sister-in-law +and stepped forth into the presence of four officers, wearing the +uniform of the Continental army. + +Three of them were wandering about the room, as though awaiting the +orders of the fourth,--a very tall man, of massive frame, seated by a +table. + +He was examining a sealed packet, and seemed about to open it under the +light of the candles, but looked up quickly as the childish figure came +and stood directly in front of him. Then, as his large gray-blue eyes +glanced at the taller one, he arose to his feet, with the unopened +packet in his hand. + +The other officers had come to a standstill, as though rooted, in +various parts of the room, and stood staring open-mouthed at the fair +intruders,--a very evident admiration soon taking the place of their +amazement. + +Their commander now addressed the two girls, looking down from his +great height upon the faces wherein embarrassment and veneration seemed +hopelessly mingled. + +"Well, ladies," he demanded,--his words and manner, albeit perfectly +respectful and courteous, tinged with sternness--"what is the meaning +of this?" + +They both knew themselves to be in the presence of the great man whom +they had desired so much to look upon, and they could see nothing in +the room but the impressive figure now facing them with such an air of +dignity and command. + +There was about him the very atmosphere of self-nobility, +self-reliance; and with it that supreme control which, being the ruler +of his own nature, enabled him to govern all the more surely those +about him. The steady gaze of the unusually large eyes, every line of +the firm mouth and chin, bespoke a well-disciplined mind, and the keen +intuitions of a born leader of men. + +Mary was dumb from mortification, not unmixed with actual fear, for she +could see no easy way of extricating themselves from their dilemma; but +Dorothy plucked up heart of grace, and answered, as she dropped a +little courtesy, "It is only that we wanted to see you, sir." + +There was a spontaneous laugh from the three officers; but Washington +checked it by turning to them with a frown. + +And yet there was a faint smile touching the corners of his own lips, +relaxing their severity, as he looked down at the girl and asked, in +the quizzing tone he might have used toward a child, "Well, little one, +now that you have seen me, what will you?" + +"That you will pardon us, sir," Mary answered instantly, as she moved +forward to Dorothy's side. Washington bent his head graciously to her. +But his smiling eyes went back to the younger girl's face, although his +words were now in reply to Mary. + +"There is surely little to pardon. Rather let me thank you that I am +held in such esteem, and thought deserving of so much consideration." +Then he added with a glance that embraced them both, "May I know your +names?" + +"This is my sister, Dorothy Devereux, of Marblehead; and I am Mary +Broughton Devereux, wife of the officer of that name in Colonel +Glover's regiment, now stationed at Cambridge." + +Her composure had fully returned, and she spoke with perfect +freedom--indeed with a touch of pride--as she looked up fearlessly into +Washington's face. + +"Aye;" and now his look and voice showed naught but cordiality. "I am +happy, ladies, to make your acquaintance. I happen to know your +husband, Mistress Devereux, for my present headquarters at Cambridge +are in the house formerly occupied by Colonel Glover and his +officers.[1] I had also a slight acquaintance with your father-in-law." + + +[1] This mansion was afterwards the home of Longfellow. + + +"Oh, sir--you say that you knew my father?" + +The lines of his face relaxed still more as he regarded the little +figure standing before him, her hands clasped impulsively, and the +great dark eyes, now glittering with tears, raised in a worshipful gaze +more eagerly questioning than was even the sweet voice. + +"Aye, child, I knew him. We met at the house of your townsman, Colonel +Lee." + +"He is--perhaps you do not know--my father died this spring." And +crystal drops welled from the big eyes and hung suspended on the +curling lashes. + +"Aye, my dear child," and a note of the tenderest sympathy came to the +deep voice, "so I heard at the time. God grant we may all be as well +prepared as was your good father, when the end shall come." + +There was a pause, filled by the crackling of the fire, whose gleams +made a bright sparkle of the drops on Dorothy's swart lashes before she +could wipe them away. The other officers were now exchanging +significant glances, and looking at the girl with much interest. + +The silence was broken by Mary, who was secretly burning to escape. +She had waited until she met Washington's eyes; then, as he glanced at +her, she made a deep courtesy and said, "And now, sir, if you please, +we will retire to our own apartments below stairs." + +"Wait but a moment," he replied. His eyes had gone back to Dorothy, +who was standing with clasped hands, looking into the fire, and +forgetful of all else than the sorrow his words had awakened within her +heart. "Are you abiding under this roof, Mistress Devereux?" + +"Only for this one night, sir," Mary answered. "We are stopping at +Dorchester, with our old friend Mistress Knollys, and have been toward +Boston to see a dying relative. We were returning from there when the +storm overtook us, and are obliged to remain here until to-morrow. We +shall set out again in the morning, sir." + +"Not alone, surely?" he said with a slight frown. "It is scarce +prudent for you two young ladies to be travelling these roads, at such +a time as this, without escort." + +"We had an escort, sir, but he went on to Dorchester, to assure +Mistress Knollys of our safety. He will return in the morning, or else +send some one for us." + +"That is more as it should be," Washington said with an approving nod. +"And in case no one comes for you, I myself will take pleasure in +seeing that you are provided with a suitable escort." + +Mary courtesied once more, and both girls murmured their thanks. + +The sad look had departed from Dorothy's face as she now stood watching +the great man whom she might never have the opportunity of beholding +again; and while so engaged, it happened that one of the buttons of his +coat came directly opposite her small nose. + +At first she looked at it without any interest,--almost mechanically. +Then she was overcome by a sudden intense desire to possess it as a +souvenir, to be treasured for all time to come. + +The feeling grew stronger each moment, and there is no saying to what +lengths her childish impulsiveness might have spurred her, had it not +been for the keen looks bent upon her by the officers at the other side +of the room. + +Washington seemed to be conscious of this, for his eyes took a curious +expression as he said, looking down into the girl's earnest face, "I am +tempted to ask, little one, what great subject makes your eyes so +solemn." + +He spoke more than half jestingly, and it was apparent that he judged +her to be much younger than her actual years, because of her diminutive +stature and childish appearance. + +"I was wishing, sir, that you would give me something to remember you +by," was her frank answer; "that is,"--hesitating a little--"I was +wishing I could have something to keep all my life." + +She stopped, scarcely knowing how to express herself, while Mary stared +at her with manifest disapproval. + +"I understand, my child," Washington said, now looking at her more +gravely. + +He paused, and seemed to be considering the matter. Then he laid his +hand lightly upon the girl's shoulder, much in the way a father would +have done. + +"I shall take pleasure, little one, in giving you something by which to +remember me." + +Resuming his seat by the table, he took up the packet he was examining +when they interrupted him a few minutes before. + +He now opened it hastily, and a number of papers dropped out. + +One of these he picked up, and tore from it a strip, which he looked at +carefully, as though to be certain it was clear of writing; then, +dipping a quill into the ink, he wrote a few words upon it. + +"Take this, my child," he said, extending it to her, "and should you +ever be in need of any service within my power to render, you have but +to send this slip of paper, to remind me that I have promised to assist +you." + +Dorothy stood speechless, well-nigh bewildered, her eyes fixed upon his +face, now alight with an aspect almost paternal. + +She said nothing, did not even thank him; but taking the paper, she +pressed her lips to the hand that proffered it, and then, turning +quickly, sped from the room. + +"We are most honored, sir--you are very kind," said Mary, who felt it +incumbent upon her to express their gratitude in more formal fashion +than Dorothy had adopted. + +Washington was looking at the door through which the girl had +disappeared, but now he turned and bowed courteously. + +"Much of the obligation is my own," he replied with courtly gallantry. +Then his manner changed as he said: "Your sister is a sweet little +maid,--it is most sad that she should have lost her father. He was, as +is his son, a worthy and stanch patriot. These are troublous times, +Mistress Devereux, and one so young and charming as she may come to +feel the need of a protector; although, from all I have seen of her +brother--your husband--it might well be supposed my own poor services +would never be called into use." + +"I thank you, sir; and I am sure Dorothy does the same--and both of us +with all our hearts." And Mary ventured to extend her hand. + +Washington arose from his chair, and his large, strong fingers closed +about her own slender ones in a firm clasp, which she felt still +tingling in their tips when she found Dorothy waiting for her at the +head of the stairs. + +"Oh, Mary," she burst out, looking as though something were amiss, "I +am glad you are come. I've been so affrighted." + +Then, as they started down the stairs, she told how a +dreadful-appearing man had come out of the tap-room, and stood glaring +at her, as he demanded fiercely to know her business. + +"I was so scared that I could not speak, and I did not dare go back +into the room. I am sure the man was full of drink." + +"Where is he? I see no one." And Mary craned her neck to look over +the rail into the hall below. + +"He went back into the taproom when he found I would not answer him." + +They had now reached the foot of the staircase; and as though waiting +for the clicking of their high heels on the oaken floor, the taproom +door opened suddenly, and a great hulking fellow, with a red face, +topped by a wild shock of black hair, came staggering against them. + +Both girls cried out, and started to fly up the stairs. But they were +reassured by the advent of Mistress Trask, who chanced to be coming +down the hall, and who spoke sharply to the man, bidding him have a +care how he ran into ladies. + +"'T is only Farmer Gilbert," she said, turning to her frightened +guests, and seeming surprised to find them in that part of the house. +"There's no cause to be alarmed, my pretties." + +Mary glanced with disgust at the drunkard, who was now attempting a +maudlin apology. But she said nothing, either to him or to the +landlady, and went her way with Dorothy. + +No sooner had they closed the door of their own apartments than they +hurried to the light and examined the precious slip of paper. + +It read: "A solemn promise given to Mistress Dorothy Devereux, of +Marblehead. G. Washington." + +"Oh, Dot," Mary exclaimed, "I never thought,--we have told him an +untruth!" + +Dorothy was still looking at the paper, but at Mary's alarming words +she raised her eyes in wonder. + +"You are not Mistress Dorothy Devereux, but Mistress--" + +"Sh-h!" cried Dot, putting her hand quickly over Mary's lips. Then +they looked at one another and laughed, but uneasily. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIX + +Neither of the girls found much rest during the night, owing to the +strangeness of their surroundings and the exciting experiences that had +come to them. In addition to this, their wakefulness was increased by +the noise of the gale outside. + +The rain had ceased, but the wind at times attained such violence as to +rattle the casements like the jarring of a cannonade. Then its force +would lessen, and it would moan about the gables and down the chimneys +with a sound as though the patriots already fallen might be lamenting +the long-continued siege of Boston. + +With these deeper tones there would come loud shrieks, like the +laughter of fiends, as if the Prince of Darkness and his legions were +making merry over the impending downfall of goodly customs, uprooted by +slaughter and bloodshed. + +During the earlier part of the night there was some unusually loud +talking outside, seeming to indicate a new excitement. + +This caused the girls fresh alarm; but the matter was explained by the +landlady, when she brought their breakfast in the morning. + +A redcoat had been caught in the cornfield back of the house, and later +on, his horse was found fastened in the woods near by. + +When brought, as he was at once, before the Commander-in-Chief, the +prisoner had denied indignantly the imputation of being a spy. Yet he +had refused stubbornly to explain the reason for his being outside his +own lines, and so close to the spot where a conference was being held +between Washington and his officers. + +He wore the British uniform, but this was concealed by an ordinary +riding-cloak, and on his head was a civilian's hat. + +"So," said the landlady, after telling the story, "if he be no spy, 't +will be a hard matter for him to prove it, with everything lookin' so +black. An', oh, mistress, he's as handsome as a picter, an' don't look +to be twenty-five. It do seem a mortal pity that he must hang." + +"Hang!" repeated Dorothy, with horror. "Why must he hang?" + +"Why, surely ye know, mistress," the woman explained, "in war-times a +spy be always hanged." + +"Is it not dreadful--and will they hang him?" Mary asked with a +shudder, staring into the face of the voluble landlady, who was now +arranging the dishes upon the table. + +"So the talk goes 'mongst the men. They had much ado with Farmer +Gilbert, who was for takin' the young man an' hangin' him there an' +then. But he had to be brought afore General Washington himself. An' +now he's locked up in one o' the upper rooms, with Tommy Macklin pacin' +up an' down afore the door, like he was measurin' the hall for a new +carpet, 'stead o' wearin' out the strip I wove with my own hands, out +o' rags." + +Dorothy, who sat facing Mary, her elbows on the table, and her chin +resting in her small palms, now drew the landlady's attention by +inquiring if she knew the prisoner's name. + +"Yes,--I did get to hear it when General Washington asked him; for, to +say truth, I was listenin' outside the door. He answered up fair +enough, an' spoke it like there was naught to be ashamed of in the +matter, neither. 'T was Captain Southorn." + +She heard a half-choked gasp from Dorothy's lips, and saw the look that +came to Mary's face as her eyes turned like a flash toward the younger +girl. + +"Is it possible he can be known to ye?" she asked quickly. + +"Yes,--I think we met him once," Mary answered falteringly. "That is, +we met a young man of the same name. But he was not a captain--only a +cornet of dragoons." + +"Still, it is like to be the same man," the landlady said rather +insistingly, as though hoping that such was the fact. "Cornets grow +quick to be captains in these woful days, if they be but brave, which +surely this young man is, unless his looks belie him." + +Neither of the girls had paid any attention to her, but sat motionless, +each with her eyes riveted upon the other's face, as if seeking to read +her thoughts. + +But now they both looked at Mistress Trask, whose voice had lost its +speculative tone, and was filled with intense earnestness. + +"Oh, mistress," she was saying, still addressing Mary, "mayhap he be +the same man ye've known. An' if this be so, I do beg ye to try what +prayin' the favor of his pardon from Washington will do. 'T is a foul +death--to be hanged; an' such as he ought surely to die in their beds, +unless they come to die in battle. The General be still here, 'though +Colonel Glover an' many o' the other officers left early this mornin'. +If they should take the young man out an' hang him, I'd never 'bide +here another day. Will ye not go, mistress, an' try to save his life?" + +Before Mary could reply, Dorothy spoke up. + +"I will go," she said quietly, taking her elbows from the table, and +with an expression in her eyes such as Mary never saw there before. + +"Oh, do, mistress!" the landlady exclaimed eagerly, looking at the girl +with admiration. "Pray do, an' God will bless ye for it." + +But Mary protested, although weakly, and feeling that she had but +little hope of success. + +"No, Dot,--no," she said. "You must not,--it would never do. And then +it might not be the same one, after all." + +But her own belief contradicted her words, and sounded in her voice +even as she uttered them. She was certain it was he who had appeared +to be watching them when they came from Aunt Penine; and he had +doubtless followed them to the tavern. + +Dorothy made no reply until she drained a glass of milk the landlady +filled for her; then she arose from the table. + +"I am going," she said, as calmly as before. "Please," seeing that +Mary was about to renew her objections, "say no more about it. I am +going--and I prefer to go alone." + +But Mary could not restrain herself. + +"Oh Dot," she asked tremulously, "do you dare do such a thing?" + +"Yes, I dare do it, because I must,--because there is nothing else for +me to do." + +"Let her go, mistress," urged the landlady; "surely there be naught to +fear for her." Then she said confidently, as Dorothy passed through +the door and out into the hall: "She be that young an' tender that no +one would harm her,--least of all, General Washington. No doubt she'll +be just the one to touch his heart with her pleadin' for the young man. +No one would have the heart to say no to her, she be so little an' +sweet." + +Mary felt her own helplessness to turn Dorothy from her purpose. +Indeed she did not dare to say, even to herself, that it was not the +girl's solemn duty to do as she had proposed. + +And so she sat silent, with clasped hands, musing over all these +things, while Mistress Trask removed the dishes. And while she was +doing this, the landlady told for the first time--the excitement having +driven it from her mind--how Johnnie Strings had appeared at an early +hour, and bade her say that he was forced to go across country to carry +a despatch, but would return by noon, to escort the two girls to +Dorchester. + +Dorothy took her way up the stairs toward the room above. All the +girlishness within her was now dead, and the expression in her pale +face was that of a woman--and one whose heart was wrung by bitter +sorrow. + +The door was closed, and in front of it a man was seated. A musket lay +across his knees, and his head was sunk on his breast as if he were +buried in his own meditations. But as Dorothy drew near, he looked up, +and she saw that it was none other than Fisherman Doak. + +"Mistress Dorothy!" he gasped, staring open-mouthed at her white face +as though doubtful of her being a reality. + +"Yes," she said quickly, "and I am glad it is you, Doak." + +"Sweet little mistress," he exclaimed, amazement showing in every +lineament of his honest visage, "in Heaven's name, whatever be ye doin' +here?" + +"Never mind, Doak," she answered, "what I am doing here. I wish to +see--to speak with General Washington, and at once." + +"You--you?" he stammered, rising slowly to his feet, and shaking +himself in the effort to collect his scattered wits. + +"Yes," she said impatiently. "You are on guard here--he knows you are +outside his door?" + +"Why, yes, mistress--o' course. I'm to be here in case he needs aught, +as well as to keep folk out. He be alone, an' has ordered thet he's +not to be disturbed." + +"If he is alone," and her tone expressed relief, "so much the better +for me. I must have speech with him this very minute." + +Doak opened his mouth in remonstrance, but she would not permit him to +speak. + +"Do you hear?" she demanded. "I must see him this minute. Go and tell +him so; and tell him it is upon a matter of life and death." + +He said nothing more, but, looking more dazed than ever, turned and +rapped on the door. + +A voice whose deep tones had not yet left Dorothy's ears gave +permission to enter, and Doak, after bidding her to stop where she was, +went into the room. + +For a second Dorothy stood hesitating. Then a look of fixed resolution +came to her face, and before the door could close after the +fisherman-soldier, she stepped forward and followed him. + +Washington was--as when she intruded upon him before--seated at a +table. But now he was writing; and as the two entered the room, he +looked up as though annoyed at the interruption. + +But Dorothy, pushing Doak aside, advanced with an impetuosity that gave +no opportunity for questioning or reproof, and took away all need of +explanation from the astonished guardian of the great man's privacy. + +"You gave me this, sir--last night," she said, holding out the paper, +and speaking in the same fearless, trusting manner she would have +adopted toward her own father, "and you will surely remember what you +promised." + +As she came forward, Washington, seeing who it was, laid down his pen, +and his face took the expression it had borne when he was talking with +her the evening before. There was a tender, a welcoming light in his +eyes, as though her coming were a pleasure,--as if it brought relief +from the contemplation of the grave responsibilities resting upon him. + +He arose from his chair, and taking the paper from her hand, laid it +upon the table. Then he turned to her again and said smilingly, "My +dear child, the promise was surely of small worth if I could forget it +so soon after it was given." + +But there was no smile upon the face into which he was looking, and its +earnestness seemed now to bring to him the conviction that the girl had +come upon no trifling matter. + +He bade Doak resume his post outside the door, and to permit no one to +enter, howsoever important the business might be. Then, when the +fisherman had gone, he invited Dorothy to be seated, and asked her to +tell him the object of her coming. + +He sat down again by the table, but she remained standing, and now came +close to him, her clasped hands and pleading eyes fully as beseeching +as the words in which she framed her petition. + +"Oh, sir--I have come to beg that you will not hang the English officer +whom I hear you suspect of being a spy." + +Washington started in surprise; a stern light gathered in his eyes, and +he looked as though illy pleased. + +Dorothy was quick to see this, and felt that her only hope of success +lay in telling him the entire truth. + +This she did, confiding in him as freely and fully as though she were +his daughter. + +When she ended, he sat for a time as if pondering over her story, and +the request to which it was the sequel. He had not interrupted her by +so much as a single word, but his eyes had been fixed upon her face +with an intensity that softened as she went on, in her own impulsive +way, to tell him of her troubles. + +Presently he said: "It is truly a sad tangle, my child,--one scarce +proper to think any gentleman would seek to bring into your young life. +But I am not yet old enough to hold that we should judge hot-headed +youth with too great severity. Indeed," the grave lines of his face +relaxing a little, "in this case I can see that the young man had +strong temptation to forget himself, and to do as he did." + +He paused and looked at her keenly, as if searching for the answer to a +question seeking solution in his own mind. + +She stood silently waiting, and he continued: "First of all, I must +know of a certainty as to one matter, in order that I may act with +discretion. My child," and he took one of her hands in his own, "do +not fear to show me your heart. Show it to me as you would to your own +dear father, were he, rather than I, asking you. Tell me--do you love +this man who is really your husband?" + +"Yes, sir," she answered, with no sign of hesitancy, as she lifted her +head and looked at him through the tears his words had brought to her +eyes, "I do love him." + +Washington smiled, as if relieved of a perplexing problem. + +"This brings about a very different order of affairs," he said in a way +that made her heart bound with hope. "Now it may be possible that this +captain is not your Cornet Southorn, although I think there is small +room for doubt in the matter. But, in order to solve the question, I +will have him brought here. Do you, my child, conceal yourself behind +the curtains of that window; and if he proves to be the officer of whom +we have been speaking, you have but to show yourself to assure me of +the fact. If not, then remain in hiding; and after putting a few +questions to him, I will have him taken back to his room." + +Doak was despatched to carry out the order, while Dorothy hid herself +in the curtains,--trembling with agitation when the sound of footsteps +was heard again outside the door. + +The fisherman entered with the prisoner, and Dorothy, looking through +the slightly parted drapery, saw the olive face and purple-blue eyes of +the man she loved. + +His long boots were splashed with the mire of the highway, his uniform +showed traces of the struggle of the night before, and his curly hair +was dishevelled. + +More than this, his haggard face and dark-circled eyes gave proof of a +sleepless and anxious night. + +But as he came into the room he drew himself erect, and met +unflinchingly the stern eyes of the man in whose hands lay his fate. + +The door had no sooner closed upon Doak's retreating figure than +Dorothy stepped from behind the curtains. + +The young man gave a violent start, and the arms that had been folded +across his chest fell to his sides, as he uttered her name,--at the +same time taking a step toward her. Then he came to a standstill, and +passed his hand over his eyes, as if to clear them of something that +impeded his vision. + +And there was reason for this, as Dorothy did not speak, and stood +motionless, her hands clasped in front of her, while she looked at him +with an expression he seemed unable to define. + +Washington's face had grown less severe as he noted all this; and while +the two still remained gazing at one another, his voice broke the +silence. + +"The cause of your presence in this neighborhood, Captain Southorn, +which your gallantry forbade you to explain, even in the face of an +ignominious death, has been revealed to me by one whose truth and +fidelity no human being should know better than yourself. She has told +me that which leads me to take upon myself the responsibility of +clearing you from the very grave suspicions aroused by your action of +last night, and of holding you simply as a prisoner of war. For all +this, you have Mistress Dorothy to thank--for your life and your +restored honor." + +No pen can describe the emotions of the two listeners as they heard +these words, nor could any pencil portray the reflection of these +emotions upon their faces. + +Southorn's expression was that of thankfulness, mingled with +amazement,--doubt, as though he feared the treachery of his own senses, +while Dorothy's face became all aglow with delight and triumph at her +success. + +The young man stepped impetuously toward Washington, and was about to +speak, but the latter raised his hand. + +"You, sir, as an officer of the King," he said gravely, "know the +weight of such a debt as this, and no words of mine can add to the +sense of your obligation to her. This being so," and he glanced from +one to the other of them, while the suggestion of a smile relieved the +sternness of his face, "I will leave you with her for a short time, in +order that you may express your gratitude in fitting terms, while I +consider what course is best for me to pursue in carrying out the +purpose I have in view." + +With this he arose from his chair, and bowing to them, withdrew to the +inner room, closing the door after him. + +For a single moment there was silence between the two he had left +alone, and no one could now accuse Dorothy of any lack of color in her +cheeks. + +"Dorothy--sweetheart, what does all this mean?" + +The young man spoke in almost a whisper, looking at her as though she +were a vision, a part of some strange dream. His voice faltered, and +his eyes moved restlessly as he came toward her, walking slowly and +uncertainly. + +But Dorothy, her wonted self-possession and courage now fully restored, +did not wait for him to come to her. She advanced smilingly, her eyes +alight with happiness, and laid both her hands within his. + +Then, while they stood face to face, she told him hurriedly of what she +had done. + +While she was speaking, he looked at her in that same queer way, his +eyes wandering over her face and figure, while now and again he pressed +her little soft hands, as though to gain through them still greater +assurance of the blessed reality. + +But when she finished, his eyes ceased their roaming, and became fixed +upon her beaming face. + +"My darling," he said slowly, "do you realize the full measure of what +you have done for me? Do you know that you not only have given me +life, but have saved me from that which to a soldier is more terrible +than the torments of hell itself,--the disgrace of being hanged as a +spy?" + +His voice broke, and a spasm of pain shot across his face. Then he +exclaimed in a tone filled with self-condemnation, "And this you have +done for the man who forced his love upon you,--who married you by a +trick--aye, by violence; the man who--" + +She drew one hand away from his grasp and put it firmly against his +lips. + +"Stop!" she commanded, with all her natural imperiousness. "I'll +listen to no more talk such as that. Had you not married me in the way +you did, 't is not likely you would have wed me at all, for I have come +to know that I am no girl to be won by soft speeches, and sighs, and +tears." + +"What!" he cried, not believing his ears. "Can it be possible--" + +He had no need to finish the question, for her arms stole up and went +around his neck, and her blushing face was hidden over his heart. + +"My love--my wife--can it be that you love me at last?" + +"At last!" She lifted her head and looked into his eyes. "I believe I +have loved you from the very first--since the time you opened your eyes +when I held your head that day on the rocks. I loved you when you +kissed me, the time we met in the wood, and I loved you when we stood +before Parson Weeks; and--I'll love you all my life." + +He drew her to him with a force almost rough in its fierceness, and +covered her face with kisses. + +"God be praised for those words!" he exclaimed. Then he sighed deeply. + +"I have been such a miserable dog, sweetheart, ever since the night I +left Marblehead. I was hoping until then to receive some little word +bidding me come to you,--to come and tell your people the truth, and +face their opinion and anger, such as I deserved for what I had done. +But after I left you that night, I lost all hope, and prayed only that +a bullet might set me free from my self-reproaches and misery." + +"Oh--you wicked--" Dorothy began; but he silenced her with a kiss. + +"I have just received tidings of my father's illness, and his wish for +my return," he continued, "and was thinking of setting sail for home, +when my eyes were blessed with sight of you yesterday, and I was +dragged out here by a force I was unable to resist. I hoped to have +speech with you somehow, if only that I might implore your forgiveness +before I went away." + +"And now you know there is naught to forgive," she said, smiling up +into his face. + +Then she drew herself a little away from him, and taking hold of the +collar of his red coat as though to detain him, added softly, "But +you'll not go now, will you?" + +He laughed exultingly; but his face became sad again as he stroked the +ripples of curling hair clustering about her forehead. + +"It would seem, sweetheart," he said, "as if that might be the wisest +course for me to pursue; for how can I find heart to take up arms +against the country and people--aye, against the very kindred--of my +own wife?" + +A look of sorrowing dread swept all the light from Dorothy's face; but +the brightness returned somewhat as he said more cheerily: "Well, well, +my little one, it is waste of time to talk of such matters now, for you +see I am not free to go anywhere just at this present. 'Sufficient for +the day,' you know, 'is the evil thereof;' and surely we have evil to +fear, even yet. But nothing can daunt me now--now that my honor is +cleared; and that, too, by such an unlooked-for ray of light from +Heaven, and with it the knowledge that you love me, and dared so +bravely to save my life." + +The door-knob was now rattled with a warning significance, and the two +sprang away from each other as General Washington slowly entered the +room. + +His face bore an odd expression, and one that was pleasant to look +upon, as he glanced from Dorothy to her husband. Then his eyes +returned to the girl's face, and he asked, with no attempt to conceal a +smile, "Well, my child, is all settled to your satisfaction, +and"--after a second's pause--"liking?" + +She tried to answer him, but could not. Her heart was too overflowing +with gratitude, happiness, hope. + +They all seemed struggling for precedence in the words that should come +from her lips, and she found herself unable to speak. + +Her eyes filled, and she looked up as though imploring him to find in +her face all that her lips failed to say. Then she sprang forward, and +seizing his hand, pressed it to her lips. + +He appeared to understand fully the cause of her silence and +agitation,--to know and appreciate the emotions that rendered her dumb; +and the lines of his face resumed their accustomed gravity as he +withdrew his hand from her clasp and laid it gently upon the curly head +so far beneath his own majestic height. + +"God bless you, my daughter, and keep you--always!" + +No father could have spoken more tenderly to his child; and the words +came to Dorothy as a benediction from him who had so recently passed +away. + +Washington now addressed himself to Captain Southorn. + +"You have in this child a priceless treasure," he said. "God grant +that you ne'er forget the fact, nor the debt you owe her." + +"I never will--I never can, sir," the young man answered with +unmistakable sincerity, as he came and took his wife by the hand. "Of +that, sir, you may rest assured," he added, in a voice shaking with +strong emotion. + +Washington bent his head in approval. "For the present," he continued, +"I deem it proper that you remain as before. I purpose stopping here +until afternoon, and will then have you taken to Cambridge, unless some +unforeseen matter shall arise to alter my plans." + +The prisoner bowed in silence; then, as Washington went toward the door +to summon Doak, the young man turned to smile hopefully into his wife's +eyes. + +"Keep a brave heart, sweet one," he whispered, "and trust in my love +and truth. Naught can ever part us now." + +A minute later the door closed after the fisherman and his charge. + +"Keep the paper, child," Washington said to Dorothy, as soon as they +were alone, "and remember that the promise it contains is renewed for +the future. In such days as are about us, it is not improbable to +reckon upon its being needed again--although scarcely for a like +purpose." + +He smiled, as his fingers closed upon the small hand within which he +placed the eventful slip of paper. "And now go, my daughter," he +added, "and may God bless you. Trust in Him, and He will surely watch +over your life, and make all well in the end." + + + + +CHAPTER XXX + +Had Dorothy been less absorbed by anxiety and grief when she was making +her way to General Washington's apartments, she would have heard the +door of the taproom open softly as she reached the foot of the stairs +leading to the second floor. + +Farmer Gilbert's head was thrust from the opening, and his fierce eyes +watched the slight figure ascend to the landing above and turn in the +direction of the rooms occupied by the Commander-in-Chief. + +As soon as she was out of sight, he glanced up and down the hall, to +make certain no one was near, and slipped cautiously out. Then quickly +removing his heavy shoes, he stole, cat-like, up the stairway. + +His progress was stayed by the voices of the girl and Doak; and raising +his head until his eyes were on a level with the floor, he saw them +enter the room together. + +"Whatever be she up to?" he muttered. Then hearing footsteps in the +hall below, he sped noiselessly up the few remaining steps, and made +haste to hide himself in Mistress Trask's linen-press, standing only a +short distance away, and which afforded him ample opportunity for +watching, as he held the door ajar. + +"Aha, my lady spy," he whispered to himself, "I'll keep my eye on +ye--an' my ears, too. Ye can't fool Jason Gilbert, 'though ye may fool +some as thinks they know more as I." + +He saw Doak fetch the British prisoner, and noted the length of time +the young man remained in the room whither the girl had gone. + +"Aye--him outside, last night, an' she on the inside," his maudlin +thoughts ran on. "They thought to hev it all their own way,--to tell +the Britishers the names o' the officers that were here, an' all that +was goin' on. An' now here be General Washington himself, I'll be +bound, lettin' her coax him to save t' other spy from hangin', when +they both ought to be strung up together. I wish now I'd not set up a +hello that brought the men out o' the inn, but had jest given him a +crack o'er the head myself, to settle the matter, an' so hev none o' +this triflin', with her tryin' to pull the wool over the General's +eyes. But I guess he'll know 'em for the pair o' d----d British spies +they be." + +His lips moved in unworded mutterings, his eyes intent upon Doak--now +sitting by the closed door--or else glancing about the hall to see if +any one were approaching his place of concealment. + +When Doak was again summoned within the room, Gilbert thought to +improve the chance for making his escape; but seeing that the door was +open a few inches, he concluded to wait. Then he saw the fisherman +come out with the prisoner, and he uttered a low curse when the young +man turned to meet the girl's eyes before the door closed behind him. + +Before the sound of their footsteps died away down the hall, Farmer +Gilbert left his hiding-place and hastened below, sitting down on the +steps to replace his shoes, as one of the women servants came along. + +"Got a pebble, or summat, in my shoe," he explained, raising his head; +for the girl had stopped, and was staring at him curiously. + +"Did ye have to take off both shoes to find it?" she asked pertly. + +He did not answer, and she passed on to the tap-room, whither he +followed her. + +Less than an hour after this, as Mary and Dorothy were in their little +parlor, talking over the recent happenings, the landlady came to +announce that General Washington desired to see them at once. + +They observed, as they passed along the hall, that some fresh +excitement seemed to prevail, for they could see that the taproom was +filled with men, many of whom were talking animatedly. + +The door of Washington's room stood open, and they saw him in earnest +conversation with two other officers, who withdrew as the girls entered. + +He welcomed them kindly, although seeming preoccupied,--as if pressed +by some new matter which disturbed him. + +"A messenger has brought information that a body of the enemy is coming +in this direction," he said, speaking quite hurriedly. "It is +therefore prudent that we go our ways with all proper speed, and I wish +to urge your own immediate departure. I regret that our routes lie in +different directions; but I will send the man Doak to escort you, as it +appears he is well known to your family." + +Seeing the consternation in the girls' faces, he added reassuringly: +"There is no cause for alarm, for you have ample time to put a safe +distance between yourselves and the approaching British. I think it +probable they will halt for a time here, at the tavern, for this seems +to be their objective point." + +"Do you think there is like to be a battle?" Mary inquired nervously. + +Washington smiled at her fears. + +"No," he answered. "It is but a moderate-sized force--probably +reconnoitring. We shall, I trust, have the enemy well out of Boston +erelong, without the risk or slaughter of a battle." + +Then he added: "But we are losing valuable time, and I have something +more pleasant than battles to speak about. I take it, Mistress +Devereux,"--and he turned to Mary,--"that your little sister here has +made you aware of what passed between us but an hour ago?" + +"Yes, sir." And Mary stole a side glance at Dorothy, wondering that +the girl should appear so self-possessed. + +"Captain Southorn will go with me to Cambridge," he continued, "where +his ultimate disposition will be decided upon." + +Dorothy started; but looking at Washington, she saw a smile in the +kindly glance bent upon her troubled face. + +"He will also meet Lieutenant Devereux there, and this I deem a +desirable thing for all concerned. So take heart, Mistress Dorothy, +and trust that all will end happily." + +He looked at his watch, and then held out a hand to each of them. + +"Get you under way for Dorchester at once," he said, "and you shall +hear something from me within the week." + +With this he led them to the door and bade them God speed, warning them +once more to make haste in leaving the inn. + +When they had put on their riding-hats, and gathered up their few +belongings, the two girls left their room in company with Mistress +Trask, who, between the excitement of seeing her distinguished guests +depart, and the unusual exercise attending the concealment of her +choicest viands from the approaching enemy, was well-nigh speechless. + +Emerging from the narrow passage leading to the main hall of the inn, +they encountered a small knot of men looking curiously at Captain +Southorn and the two soldiers guarding him, who were standing at the +foot of the staircase, apart from the others, and were apparently +waiting for orders, while outside the open door several other men were +gathered, in charge of a dozen or more horses. + +As Mary's glance fell upon the young Englishman, she flushed a little, +and holding her chin a bit higher than before, turned her eyes in +another direction--but not until he saw the angry flash in them. + +A faint smile touched his lips as he lifted his hat, and then an eager +look came to his eyes as he saw the small figure following close behind +her, whose steps seemed to falter as she neared him. + +Just then there was a call from above stairs; and as one of the guards +ascended hastily to answer it, Captain Southorn said something in a low +tone to the other one--quite a young man--standing beside him. + +He listened, and then shook his head, but hesitatingly, as he glanced +toward Dorothy, who was looking wistfully at his prisoner. + +Good Mistress Trask had chanced to overhear what the Britisher said; +and speaking to the young soldier, she exclaimed testily: +"Fiddlesticks, Tommy Macklin! Why not let him speak a word to the +young lady, when he asks ye so polite-like? What harm can come of it? +They be old acquaintances." + +Tommy seemed to waver; but being a good-hearted young fellow, as well +as standing somewhat in awe of the landlady, who was a distant +relative, he made no farther objection, and nodded his consent. + +Southorn gave Mistress Trask a grateful smile, and stepping quickly to +where Dorothy was standing, took her hand and led her a few steps away +from the others, as he asked in a low voice, "Do you know what is to be +done with me, sweetheart?" + +"Only that you are to go to Cambridge," was the hurried reply. + +"I knew that much myself," he said smilingly. "But what is the meaning +of all this sudden stir?" + +"They say the--British are marching toward the inn," she whispered, her +mind troubled by the fear that she had no right to give him this +information. + +He drew a quick breath; and she readily divined the thoughts that +caused him to frown, and bite his lips. + +"General Washington said you would meet my brother at Cambridge, and +that it was best to--best for--that it was important for you to see +him," she added stammeringly, while her color deepened. + +The scowl left his face, and he smiled at her in a way to make her eyes +seek the floor. + +"Aha! did he, indeed? Well then, no doubt it is best that I am going +to Cambridge, and as soon as may be. But," with some anxiety, "what +think you this brother of yours will say to me, or will a bullet be all +he will have for my hearing?" + +"No, indeed no!" Dorothy exclaimed. "Jack would never show you +unkindness, for he knows--he well knows, because I told him--" + +"Do you mean to say," he asked quickly, cutting short her words, "that +your brother has known all this time the blessed truth that I learned +only this very morning?" + +"He only knew of it just before he left home in the summer," she +whispered. "I had to tell him." + +"Why?" + +"I was afraid you and he might meet, and I was fearful that--" The +voice died away, and Dorothy's head drooped. + +"Sweetheart," he said softly, "I understand. You must have been sadly +torn betwixt your love and what you thought to be your duty. It makes +me realize more keenly what a brute I have made of myself. But trust +me--only trust and believe in my honor and true love, and I will try +all my life to make amends for the suffering I have caused you." + +Washington and his suite were now descending the stairs, and Tommy +Macklin hastened to place himself closer to his prisoner as the other +soldier joined him. + +Then Southorn turned to Dorothy and said: "It is evident that we are +about to leave. Tell me quickly as to your own movements,--you surely +are not going to stop here?" + +"Oh no; Mary and I are to set out right away for Dorchester, and +Fisherman Doak is to see us safely housed with Mistress Knollys." + +"You will go at once," he insisted, "and not delay a second?" + +She nodded smilingly, and their eyes spoke the farewell their lips were +forbidden to utter. + +Mary had been standing all this time alongside Mistress Trask, her face +studiously averted from the two at whom nearly all the others were +staring wonderingly. + +She now came forward, and without looking at Captain Southorn, joined +Dorothy; and in company with the landlady they passed through the door +into the midday sunlight flooding the world outside. + +Washington and those with him were the first to leave,--their departure +being witnessed by every one at the inn. + +The two girls were now standing side by side in the doorway; and +Captain Southorn, on horseback, with a mounted guard on either side of +him, smiled again as his glance fell on Mary's spirited face, and at +the thought it awakened of that morning at the Sachem's Cave. + +"They be goin' to take the spy to Cambridge, to hang him," muttered +Farmer Gilbert to Mistress Trask, his restless eyes roving from the +sweet young face in the doorway to that of the young man sitting upon +the horse. + +"No such thing," said the landlady, with an indignant sniff. "He is a +prisoner, but there's no further talk o' hangin'." + +"Who says so?" and the farmer's scowling brows grew blacker. + +"The young ladies say so, an' they both know him--knew him long ago." + +"Aye, that I'll be bound, as to one of 'em, at any rate," he growled, +eying Dorothy savagely. The girl's face was telling her secret, while +she stood watching her husband turn for a parting smile as he rode off +with the others. + +"Where do she live?" Gilbert asked suddenly, jerking his thumb toward +the doorway, in front of which Doak was now standing with the horses. + +"Down at Marblehead, when they be at home; both of 'em live there," the +landlady answered. "But they be stoppin' at Dorchester now, with +friends, an' there's where they're bound for." With this she turned +away, her manner showing that she desired no further parley with him. + +The man stood for a few moments, as if reflecting upon what he had +heard. Then, with one more glance at the two girls, he turned slowly +about, and took his way to the stables of the inn. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXI + +Doak and his charges had gone but a short distance when the sound of +hoofs behind them caused all three to turn, wondering who might be +approaching. + +It was a man, evidently an American by his appearance; and as they +looked back at him, he seemed to check the hitherto brisk gait of his +horse. + +Dorothy was the first to recognize him. + +"Oh, Mary, 't is that dreadful man who frightened us!" + +"Frightened ye?" echoed Doak, interrogatively. "How was that, +mistress?" + +When Mary explained what had taken place the night before, he glanced +back again, and saw that the distance between them was rapidly +increasing, for the man in the rear was letting his horse walk, while +he sat swinging loosely in the saddle. + +"There be naught to fear now," he said, in a way to reassure the two +girls. "He's not like to think o' tryin' any frightenin' game with me. +An' he rides like he had too much store o' liquor aboard to be thinkin' +of aught but keepin' firm hold on his craft." Then, when he had looked +again, "He be fallin' way behind, so there's no call for bein' +fright'ed, either one o' ye." + +They soon lost sight of the stranger, and without further happening +arrived safely at their destination, to receive a motherly welcome from +Mistress Knollys, who had been most anxious concerning them, knowing +how the roads were infested with stragglers from both armies. + +She insisted upon Doak alighting to take some refreshment; and he, +nothing loath, did so, while she wrote a letter to her son for the +fisherman to carry back to Cambridge. + +Dorothy and Mary also improved the opportunity to write to Jack, Dot +even venturing to enclose a little missive for Captain Southorn, which +she begged her brother to deliver. + +It was her first love letter, although so demure and prim in its +wording as scarcely to deserve that name. But a loyal affection +breathed through it, praying him to hope, and to trust in Washington's +friendship for them. + +Mistress Knollys listened with widening eyes to Mary's account of their +interview with the great man,--for she invested him with all the power +of His Gracious Majesty, and regarded him with more awe than ever she +had King George himself. + +She laughed outright over the description of their having been caught +in his apartments, and asked to see the paper he had given Dorothy, +touching it as something most sacred. + +Dorothy had gone above stairs, leaving Mary and the good woman together +in the living-room, where the afternoon sunshine poured across the +floor in broad slants from the two windows opening upon the garden at +the rear of the house. + +Presently Mistress Knollys said, "It would seem, my dear, to be the +very best outcome for Dorothy's matter, the way things have befallen." + +"Yes," Mary assented with a sigh, "so it does." + +"And yet," added the old lady, "I fear it will be hard for the little +maid, with a brother and husband fighting against one another." + +"Ah, but you forget, dear Mistress Knollys, that he told her he thought +of setting sail for his home in England." + +"And then I suppose she would go with him." + +"Aye;" and Mary sighed again. "I think she will surely wish to do +this." + +"Well, well, my dear," said Mistress Knollys, speaking more briskly, +"that is not like to be right away, as he must await his exchange as a +prisoner, and there's no telling when that will come to pass. Let us +borrow no trouble until we know the end, which, after all, may be a +happy one." + +It was the fourth day after this that Mary was gladdened by the sight +of her husband riding up in front of Mistress Knollys' door; and with +him were Hugh and a dozen other stout fellows on horseback. He +explained that they had but a short time to tarry, and were come at +Washington's command, to carry Dorothy back with them to Cambridge. + +"Hey, you little mischief, see the stir you are guilty of +making,--getting half the camp by the ears with your goings on," he +said laughingly, and in a way to set at rest all her misgivings, as he +took her in his arms. + +"But what am I to go to Cambridge for?" she asked rather nervously, +still with her arms around his neck, and holding back her head to get a +better look at his face, in which a serious expression seemed to be +underlying its usual brightness. + +"Did I not tell you,--because General Washington sent us to fetch you? +But come," he added more gravely, "we must get away at once. Hasten +and get yourself ready and I will tell you all as we ride along." + +"Had I not better go with her?" asked Mary, when Dot had left them. + +Her husband shook his head. "No, it was only Dot we were to bring." + +"But for her to go alone, with a lot of men--" Mary began. + +He put an arm around her shoulder as he interrupted her remonstrances. + +"She goes with her brother, sweetheart, and to meet her husband." + +"But she is coming back?" And Mary spoke very anxiously. + +"Aye, she'll return sometime to-morrow; but for how long is for herself +and the other to decide." + +Then he explained: "The British have a man of ours, one Captain +Pickett, a valiant soldier, with a stout arm and true heart. They have +had him these three months, a prisoner in Boston, and we have been most +anxious to bring about his exchange. General Washington has now +arranged this through Southorn, who is to return to-morrow to Boston, +and Captain Pickett is to be sent to us. After that, as I have said, +we have no right to dictate Dorothy's movements. Captain Southorn has +told me that he should return to England as soon as may be." + +"Then," said Mary in a tone of conviction, and the tears springing to +her eyes, "Dot will go with him." + +"Aye, belike," he sighed, "for they love one another truly." + +"And you, Jack, do you--can you look at and speak to this man with any +tolerance?" demanded his wife, the asperity of her voice seeming to dry +away the tears. + +"I try to do so, for Dot's sake, and for what he is to her. I've found +him to be a gentleman, and a right manly fellow, despite the prank of +which he was guilty." + +"Well, I shall hate him the longest day I live!" + +Mary could say nothing more, for Mistress Knollys and Hugh now came in +from another room, where they had been together. + +Dorothy had passed this room on her way up the stairs, and seeing Hugh, +stopped, while he came forward quickly to meet her. + +"Oh, Hugh, but I am truly glad to see you once more!" she exclaimed. +"How long, how very long it seems since you went away!" And there were +tears shining in the eyes she raised to his face. + +He clasped both her extended hands, and reminding himself of all he had +heard, strove to hide his true feelings, while his mother, from the +room back of them, watched the two in silence, still seeming to hear +the cry he had uttered only a moment before,-- + +"Oh, mother, mother, I feel that my heart will break!" + +Dorothy could not but observe the paleness of his face, and the traces +as of recent tears showing about the blue eyes; but she attributed +these to other than the real cause,--perhaps to matters arising between +his mother and himself after their long separation. + +"I am glad you have missed me sufficiently to make the time seem long +to you, Dot," he replied, well aware, in the bitterness of his own +heart, of how little this had to do with her show of emotion. + +"Aye, I have missed you very much," she declared earnestly. "And so +many sad things have happened since!" + +"Yes--and so many that are not sad," he added significantly, desiring, +since he might be expected to speak of her marriage, to have it over +with. + +A burning blush deepened the color in her cheeks. She drew away the +hands he had been holding all this time, her eyes fell, and she seemed +scarcely to know how to reply. + +"I pray God you will be very happy, Dorothy." And his speaking her +full name accentuated the gravity of his voice and manner. + +"Thank you, Hugh," she replied, trying to smile: then, with a nervous +laugh, "And when you return to Marblehead and see Polly Chine, I hope I +may say the same to you." + +The young man forced a laugh that well-nigh choked him. It had been +hard enough to endure before he saw her. But even when he knew from +her brother of her being forced into a marriage with this Britisher, +his heart refused to relinquish all hope, despite what his friend had +told him of Dorothy's own feeling toward her husband. + +But he had still cherished the idea that somehow, in some way, they +might never come together again; that the Britisher, believing Dorothy +to have no love for him, might sail away to England without her, should +the fortune of war spare him to do this. + +He also reckoned--hoped, rather--that the girl was so young as to +recover from any sentiment this stranger might have awakened within her +heart. + +But now, in the light of what had come about and was soon to be, all +hope was dead for him. The sight of the face and form he had never +loved so well as now,--when she seemed so sweet and so lovable in her +newly acquired womanliness--all this was unnerving him. + +With these thoughts whirling through his brain, he stood looking at +her, while he forced such an unnatural laugh as made her glance at him +nervously and draw herself away. + +"I'm not like to see the old town for many a long day, I fear," he +managed to say, his voice growing less strained as he saw the wondering +look in her dark eyes; "and as for Polly Chine, you must find one more +suited to my taste before you 've cause to wish me what I now wish you +with all my heart." + +With this he turned hastily away, and his mother asked, "You are going +to get ready to start for Cambridge, child?" + +"Yes," replied Dorothy, "I must leave at once." + +"And can I do aught to help?" the good woman inquired. + +Upon being assured that she could not, she cheerily bade the girl make +haste, and to remember that she was expected to return the next day. + +"I shall miss the child sorely," she said, as the click of Dorothy's +little heels died away on the floor above. + +Hugh said nothing, but sighed heavily, as he stood looking out of the +window with eyes that saw nothing. + +His mother went to him and laid a gentle hand upon his broad shoulder. + +"Oh, my son, my dear son," she said in a trembling voice, "my old heart +is sore for you. I have hoped for years that--" + +He whirled suddenly about. + +"Don't mother--don't say any more--not now. Let me fight it out alone, +and try to keep such a bearing as will prevent her from knowing the +truth." + +Then the passion in his voice died out, and he caressed her gray hair +with a loving touch. + +She drew his face down and kissed him. + +"Come," she said, with an effort at cheerfulness,--"come into the other +room and have speech with Mary before you go, else she'll think we've +lost all proper sense of our manners. This is the first time you and +she have met since her marriage." + + + + +CHAPTER XXXII + +It was evening when the party reached the headquarters at Cambridge. + +A faint afterglow of the brilliant sunset still lingered, but the +roadway leading to the entrance of the house was dusky with the shadows +of coming night, which almost hid the great trees on either side. + +The air about was filled with the faint hum of camp life. Occasionally +a voice could be heard, or the neighing of a horse,--figures of men +were discernible here and there, and a sentry was pacing before the +steps of the mansion. + +"Here we are, Dot," said her brother; and dismounting, he helped her +from her horse. "Careful, child;" for she had tripped, her +riding-skirt having become entangled about her feet as she followed him +into the open doorway. "I will take you directly to the room prepared +for you, and do you wait there until I return." + +She said nothing, but held fast to his arm. + +"Come, be brave," he whispered; "there is naught for you to fear." And +he led her within, leaving Hugh Knollys with the other men outside. + +The hall was spacious and well lighted. Several officers and privates +were moving about, all of whom stared wonderingly at the unusual sight +of a lady,--although it was not easy to decide whether it was a woman +or child--this dainty little figure in the riding-habit, who was +looking about with unconcealed curiosity. + +Far down the hall, to the left, her brother opened a door, showing a +spacious, well-furnished chamber, where a wood fire was blazing,--for +the night was drawing in chilly. + +"Now take off your hat, child, and feel at home," he said, kissing her. +"Remember there is naught to fear. It is only that we are wishing to +fix matters for you, little one, so that you'll be happy." And he +kissed her again as she clung to his neck. + +"Ah, Jack," she whispered, "you are so good to me!" + +"I've never had the wish to be other than good," he replied lovingly. + +As soon as she was alone, Dorothy removed her hat, and then, as she +stood by the hearth, watching the leaping flames, smoothed out her +curls. + +So engaged, and lost in thought, she did not hear the tapping upon the +door, nor see that it opened softly and a man's figure paused on the +threshold, as if watching the slight form standing by the fire, with +the back turned squarely to him. + +"Little one," came in a voice that startled the silence. + +She turned like a flash, and although the firelight did not touch his +face, it was not needed to tell her who it was. + +He closed the door, and advanced with outstretched arms, laughing with +exultation when she fled to them. + +"You are still of the same mind as when we parted?" he said, while he +held her as if never meaning to let her go from him again. + +"How can you ask?" And she nestled yet closer to him. + +His only answer was to kiss her. Then, bringing a chair to the hearth, +he seated himself, and attempted to draw her upon his knee. But she +frustrated this by perching herself upon the arm of the chair, from +which she looked triumphantly into his face. + +"Your hands are cold, little one," he said, holding them against his +cheek. + +"We had a long ride," she replied, her eyes drooping before the +intensity of his gaze. + +"Aye, so you did; are you tired?" + +"No, not at all," was her smiling answer, and her appearance did not +belie the words. + +"Hungry?"--with a little laugh, and tightening the clasp of his arm +about her. + +"No," again lifting her eyes to his happy face. + +"Well, I have been hungry for days, and with a hunger that is now being +happily appeased. But a supper is to be ready for you shortly, and +then you are to see General Washington. Do you understand, sweetheart, +what all this is about?" He was looking down at the small hands +resting in one of his own, and smiling as he noted with a lover's eye +how dainty and white they were. + +"Yes," she said, "my brother explained all that to me." + +"And you will come with me--now, at once, as soon as I can make my +arrangements?" He spoke hurriedly, nervously. + +"To England?" she asked, a very serious look now showing in her dark +eyes. + +"Aye, to England," he repeated in a tone whose firmness was +contradicted by his perturbed face. + +Disengaging one hand, her arm stole around his neck as she whispered, +"I would go to the ends of the earth with you now." + +He held her head away, the better to look into her face, as he said +with a sigh of contentment: "Now I can breathe easy! You see I did not +dare believe you would really come,--you've ever been such a capricious +little rebel." + +Presently he asked, as he toyed with her small fingers, "Where got you +all these different rings, little one?" and a note almost of jealousy +sounded in his voice. "Here be many pretty brilliants--I thought maids +in this country never wore such. How comes such a baby as you with a +ring like this?" And he lifted her hand to look at the one which had +attracted his special notice. + +"My father gave it to me," she said quietly; "it was my mother's--whom +I never saw." + +He pressed his lips to the sparkling circlet. "My little wife, I'll be +mother, father--all things else to you. All of them together could not +love you more truly and sacredly than do I. Ah, my darling, you have +but poor knowledge of the way I love you, and how highly I prize your +esteem. How can you, after the rough wooing to which I treated you?" + +Then he whispered, "And where is the ruby ring?" + +He felt her head stir uneasily against his shoulder, "Surely you did +not throw it away?" he asked after a moment's waiting. + +Dorothy laughed, softly and happily. + +"You told me that night at Master Weeks'," she whispered, "that you did +not believe what my lips said, but what my eyes had shown you." + +"Aye, so I did, and so I thought when I spoke. But until now I've been +tossed about with such conflicting thoughts as scarce to know what to +think." + +"That may be so," she said, sitting erect to look at him. "But, +believing what you read in my eyes then and before, think you I would +throw away the ring?" + +"Then where is it?" he asked again, smiling at her earnestness. + +For answer she raised her hands to her neck, and undoing the fastening +of a gold chain, drew it, with the ring strung upon it, from where they +had rested, and laid them both in his hand. + +His fingers closed quickly over them as he exclaimed, "Was there ever +such a true little sweetheart?" + +Then lifting her into his lap, he said, "You have never yet said to me +in words that you really love me. Tell me so now--say it!" + +"Think you that you have need for words?" A bit of her old wilfulness +was now showing in her laughing eyes. + +"Nay--truly no need, after what you have done for me, and have said you +would go home with me. But there's a wish to hear such words, little +one, and to hear you speak my name--which, now that I think of it, I +verily believe you do not even know." + +She nodded smilingly, but did not answer. + +"What is it?" he asked coaxingly, as he would have spoken to a child. + +"Ah--I know it." And she laughed teasingly. + +"Then say it," he commanded with mock fierceness. "Say it this minute, +or I'll--" + +But her soft palm was against his lips, cutting short his threat. + +"It is--Kyrle," she said demurely. + +"Aye, so it is, and I never thought it could sound so sweet. Now say +the rest of it--there's a good child. Ah, little one," he exclaimed +with sudden passion, "I can scarcely yet believe all this is true. Lay +all doubt at rest forever by telling me you love me!" + +The laughter was gone from her eyes, and a solemn light came into them. + +"Kyrle Southorn, I love you--I do love you!" + +They now heard voices and steps outside the door, and Dorothy sprang to +her feet, while Captain Southorn arose hastily from the chair and set +it back in place. + +It was John Devereux who entered, followed by a soldier. + +"Well, good people," he said cheerily, giving the young Britisher a +glance of swift scrutiny, and then looking smilingly at Dorothy, "there +is a supper waiting for this small sister of mine; and, Dot, you must +come with me--and that speedily, as I am famishing." + +He advanced and drew her hand within his arm; then turning with more +dignity of manner to the Englishman, he added, "After we have supped, +Captain Southorn, I will look for you in your room, as General +Washington will then be ready to receive us." + +Southorn bowed gravely. Then, with a sudden boyish impulsiveness, he +extended his hand. + +"May I not first hear from your own lips," he asked earnestly, "that +you wish me well?" + +Jack clasped the hand as frankly as it had been offered, and Dorothy's +heart beat happily, as she saw the two dearest on earth to her looking +with friendly eyes upon one another. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIII + +An hour later the three stood before the door of Washington's private +office; and in response to John Devereux's knock, the voice that was +now so familiar to Dorothy bade them enter. + +As they came into the room, Washington advanced toward Dorothy with his +hand held out in greeting, and his eyes were filled with kindness as +they looked into the charming face regarding him half fearfully. + +"Welcome," he said,--"welcome, little Mistress Southorn." + +At the sound of that name, heard now for the first time, a rush of +color suffused Dorothy's cheeks, while the two younger men smiled, +albeit each with a different meaning. + +The one was triumphantly happy, but Jack's smile was touched with +bitterness, and a sudden contraction, almost painful, caught his throat +for a second. + +"I trust that my orders were properly carried out for your comfort," +continued Washington, still addressing Dorothy, as he motioned them all +to be seated. + +She courtesied, and managed to make a fitting reply. But she felt +quite uncomfortable, and somewhat alarmed, to find her small self an +object of so much consideration. + +The Commander-in-Chief now seated himself, and turned a graver face to +the young Englishman. + +"May I ask, Captain Southorn, if the plans of which you told Lieutenant +Devereux and myself are to be carried out?" + +The young man bowed respectfully. + +"I am most happy, sir, to assure you that they are, and at the +speediest possible moment after I return to Boston." + +Washington was silent a moment, and his eyes turned to Lieutenant +Devereux, who, seemingly regardless of all else, was watching his +sister. + +"And you, Lieutenant, do you give your consent to all this?" + +"Yes, sir." But the young man sighed. + +"And now, little Mistress Southorn," Washington said, smiling once +more, "tell me, have you consented to leave America and go with your +husband?" + +"Yes, sir," she replied almost sadly, and stealing a look at her +brother's downcast face. + +"It would seem, then, that the matter is settled as it should be, and +to the satisfaction of all parties," Washington said heartily. "And I +wish God's blessing upon both of you young people, and shall hope, +Mistress Dorothy, that your heart will not be entirely weaned from your +own land." + +"That can never be, sir," she exclaimed with sudden spirit, and +glancing almost defiantly at her husband, who only smiled in return. + +"Aye, child--so? I am truly glad to hear it." Then rising from his +chair, he said: "And now I must ask you to excuse me, as I have matters +of importance awaiting my attention, and regret greatly that I cannot +spare more time thus pleasantly. You will escort your sister back to +Dorchester in the morning, Lieutenant?" + +"Aye, sir, with your permission." + +"You have it; and you had better take the same number of men you had +yesterday. Return as speedily as possible, as there are signs of--" + +He checked himself abruptly, but swept away any suggestion of +discourtesy by saying, as he held out his hand to the young Englishman, +"I'll bid you good-night, Captain Southorn; you see that it is natural +now to think of you as a friend." + +"It is an honor to me, sir, to hear you say as much," the other +replied, as he took the extended hand and bowed low over it. "And I +beg to thank you for all your kindness to me and to--my wife." + +Dorothy now courtesied to Washington, and was about to leave the room, +when he stretched out a detaining hand. + +"Stay a moment, child. I am not likely to see you again before you +depart, and therefore it is good-by as well as good-night. You will +see that I have endeavored to do what was best for you, although I must +admit"--and he glanced smilingly at Jack--"it was no great task for me +to bring your brother to see matters as I did. And now may God bless +you, and keep your heart the brave, true one I shall always remember." + +She was unable to speak, and could only lift her eyes to the face of +this great man, who, notwithstanding the weight of anxiety and +responsibility pressing upon him, had been the one to smooth away the +troubles which had threatened to mar her young life, and who had now +brought about the desire of her heart. + +But his kindly look at length gave her courage, and she managed to say, +although chokingly, "I can never find words in which to thank you, sir." + +He bowed as the three left the room, and no word was spoken while they +took their way down the hall to Dorothy's apartment. + +Jack opened the door and motioned the others to enter. + +"I must leave you now," he said, "and go to see Hugh Knollys. He is +not feeling just right to-night." + +"Why, is he ill? I wondered that he was not at supper with us." +Dorothy spoke quickly, her voice trembled, and her brother saw that she +was weeping. + +He followed them into the room and closed the door. Then he turned to +Dot, and taking her by the hand, asked tenderly, "What is troubling +you, my dear child?" + +She gave a great sob and threw herself upon his breast. + +"'T is because of what he just said--as we left him. It made me +realize that I am soon to go away across the sea from you--from all of +you," she exclaimed passionately. "Oh--how can I bear it!" + +"'T is somewhat late, little sister, to think of that," her brother +replied, caressing her curly head with the loving touch she had known +ever since the childhood days. Then bending his lips close to her ear, +he whispered, "See--you are making him unhappy." + +At this she glanced over her shoulder at her husband, who had walked to +the hearth, and stood looking into the fire. + +"Come, little girl, cheer up," said Jack, "for to-night, at least. You +are to have a little visit with him before he returns to his quarters. +And before to-morrow noon he will be on the road to Boston." + +With a long, sobbing sigh, she released him; then, as she wiped the +tears from her eyes, she said with a wan smile, "It is hard--cruelly +hard, to have one's heart so torn in opposite ways." + +He knew her meaning, and thought, as he went away, how small was their +own grief compared with that of poor Hugh, who, utterly unmanned, had +immured himself in his quarters. + +Dorothy stole to the hearth, where stood the silent figure of her +husband; and as he still did not speak, she ventured to reach out and +steal a timid hand within the one hanging by his side. + +His fingers instantly prisoned it in a close clasp, and so they +remained for a time looking silently into the fire. Presently he +sighed, and drawing the chain and ruby ring from his pocket, said very +gently, "Will you wear this ring, sweetheart, until such time as I can +get one more suitable?" + +"Aye--but I'd sooner not wear any other," she replied, looking +wistfully at him,--awed and troubled by this new manner of his. + +"Would you?" And he smiled as he fastened the chain about her neck. +"Then I shall be obliged to have the half of it taken away, in order to +make a proper fit for that small finger. But you must let me put on a +plain gold band, as well, so that all may be in proper form." + +She caught his hand and laid it against her cheek, while the light of +the burning wood caught in the ruby ring, making it gleam like a +ruddier fire against the folds of her dark-green habit. + +"Why are you so unhappy?" she asked. + +"That I am not, sweet little wife," he answered, drawing her to him, +"save when I see you unhappy." + +"But I am not unhappy," she protested, adding brokenly, "except +that--that--" + +"Except that you cherish a warm love for kindred and home, and one it +would be most unnatural for you to be lacking," he interrupted. "But +never fear, little one,"--and he stroked her hair much as her brother +had done--"you will not be unhappy with me, if you love me; and that +you say you do, and so I know it for a truth--thank God. This war +cannot last very long, and I've lost all heart to care whether King or +colony win. To tell the truth,"--and he laughed as he bent over to +kiss her--"I fear my heart has turned traitor enough to love best the +cause of her I love. So it is as well that I send in my resignation, +which is certain to be accepted; and we'll go straight to my dear old +home among the Devonshire hills, and be happily out of the way of the +strife. And when it is over, we can often cross the sea to your own +home, and perhaps your brother and his wife--if I can ever make my +peace with her--will also come to us. And so, sweetheart, you see the +parting is not forever--nor for very long." + +Thus he went on soothing and cheering her as he seated himself again in +the big chair by the hearth and drew her to his knee. Presently, and +as if to divert her thoughts, he said: "Come--tell me something of your +family. I have seen them all, as you know, but there are two of its +members with whom I never had speech." + +Dorothy puckered her brows and looked at him questioningly. + +"They are wide apart as to age," he added, smiling at her +perplexity,--"for one of them is a sweet-faced old lady, and the other +is a lovely little girl with long yellow locks and wonderful blue eyes. +She was with you that eventful day at the cave." And he laughed softly +at the thought of what that day had brought about. + +"Why, the old lady was Aunt Lettice, and the little girl is her +granddaughter--'Bitha Hollis, my cousin." + +"She looks a winsome little thing--this 'Bitha," he said, happy to see +the brightness come to Dorothy's face. + +She was smiling, for the names had brought visions of her dear old +home, and she seemed to see all the loving faces in the fire before her. + +"Yes--and she is a dear child, and full of the oddest fancies." And +now Dorothy laughed outright as some of 'Bitha's queer sayings came to +her. + +She went on to tell her husband of these; and when Jack returned half +an hour later to escort Captain Southorn to his room, he found the two +of them laughing happily together. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIV + +The next morning--although at rather a late hour for her--Dorothy +arose, feeling greatly refreshed by her sound and dreamless sleep. + +While she was yet dressing, her brother rapped on the door, and told +her she was to go to the little room near by, where supper had been +served the night before, and that Dolly--the sutler's wife--would have +breakfast ready for her. + +An hour later, as she stood at the open window of her room, drinking in +the fresh morning air, still bearing the odor of fallen leaves wetted +by the night damps, she saw her brother, with Captain Southorn and +several other men, chatting together a short distance away. + +Jack was the first to turn his eyes in her direction, and seeing her, +he smiled and waved his hand, at which Captain Southorn turned about +and hurried toward her. + +He was soon standing under the window, and reaching up took possession +of one of the small hands resting upon the sill. + +For an instant neither of them spoke, but Dorothy's dark eyes smiled +shyly into the blue ones uplifted to her face. + +"And it is really true," he said at last, with an air of conviction. +"Do you know, little one, that when I awakened this morning, I was +fearful at first that I 'd been dreaming it all. But knowing now what +I do, how can I have the heart to go away and leave you again? Cannot +you come to Boston with me now--this very day?" + +She shook her head. "No, no,--I must not do that. I must go back to +Dorchester, to see Mary and Mistress Knollys once more. And, +too"--with a blush--"I could not go without any raiment besides this." +And she touched the folds of her riding-habit. + +He stood a minute as if thinking, and then asked if she would come out +for a short walk. + +"Most assuredly," was her smiling response; and turning from the +window, she was not long in putting on her hat. + +As she was about leaving the room, she noticed her riding-whip lying on +the table where she had tossed it upon her arrival the previous +evening. It was a gift from her father, and one she prized very +highly; and fearing that the sight of it might excite the cupidity of +some of the servants, she picked it up, and then passed quickly out to +the porch. + +Here she encountered several of the officers whom she had seen talking +with her brother a short time before. They now drew aside to let her +go by, which she did hurriedly, her eyes lowered under the shadowy +plumes of her riding-hat, and oblivious of the admiring glances they +stole at her. + +Many of the inmates of Washington's headquarters had become acquainted +with her little romance; and so, unknown to herself, she was an object +of much interest. It was for this reason also, as well as on account +of the responsibility assumed with regard to him by Washington himself, +that the English captain was occupying a somewhat unusual position +amongst the American officers. + +Finding her brother and husband together, the two coming to meet her at +the porch, Dorothy asked after Hugh, and was told by Jack that he had +gone with a message to some of the outposts, but would return shortly. + +"And is he well this morning, Jack?" + +"Oh, yes," her brother answered lightly. "You will not go far away, of +course," he added, "nor stay long, else I shall have to come or send +for you." + +"Only a short distance;" and Captain Southorn motioned to the wood that +lay not far from the rear of the house. + +"Who is this Hugh?" he inquired, as they walked slowly along, the dry +leaves crackling under their feet. "Is he the sergeant, Hugh Knollys, +who went with your brother yesterday?" + +"Yes;" and something in his tone impelled her to add, "and I've known +him all my life." + +"Oh, yes," he said, knitting his brows a little, as he kicked the +leaves before him, "I remember right well. It was he I used to see +riding about the country with you so much last summer." + +"He is like my own brother," she explained quickly, not feeling quite +comfortable in something she detected in his manner of speech. + +"Is he?" now looking at her smilingly. "And does he regard you in the +same fraternal fashion?" + +"Why, of course," she answered frankly. "Hugh and I have always known +one another; we have gone riding and boating together for years, have +quarrelled and made up, just as Jack and I have done. Only," and now +she spoke musingly, "I cannot remember that Jack ever quarrelled much +with me." + +"No, I should say not, from what I've seen of him," her husband said +heartily. + +By this time they were in the seclusion of the wood; and now his arms +went about her and held her fast. + +"Sweetheart, tell me once more that you love me," he said. "I only +brought you here to have you tell it to me again, and in broad +daylight." + +She rested her head on his arm and smiled up into his face. + +"How many times must I tell you?" + +"With each sweet breath you draw, if you tell me as many times as I +would wish to hear. But this is certain to be the last moment I shall +have to see you alone, as you are to start for Dorchester, and I for +Boston. And you will surely--surely join me there as soon as I send +you word?" He spoke eagerly, and as if fearful that something might +arise to make her change her mind. + +"Yes, to be sure I will,--have I not promised?" + +"That you have, God bless you. And you will let no one turn you from +that, little one?" + +"Why, who should?" She opened her eyes in surprise, and then there +came a flash to them. "No, no, even if every one was to try, they +could not do it now. What is that?" + +She started nervously, and turned her head quickly about, as they both +heard a rustling in the bushes. + +"It is only a rabbit or squirrel," her husband said, "or perhaps a--" + +There was the sharp report of a gun close by, and a bullet grazed his +shoulder and struck the tree-trunk directly over Dorothy's head. The +next instant there came the sound of trampling and fierce struggling; +and a voice Dorothy knew at once, cried, "You sneaking dastard, what +murder is it you 're up to?" + +"Stop here, little one," said Captain Southorn, calmly, "just a second, +until I see what all this means." And he plunged into the tangled +thicket beside the path in which they had been standing. + +But Dorothy followed him closely; and a few yards away they came upon +Hugh Knollys, towering angrily over a man lying prostrate on the +ground, and whom Dorothy recognized instantly as the rude fellow who +had so alarmed her at the inn. + +At sight of the two figures breaking through the underbrush, Hugh +started in surprise, and a look which Dorothy found it hard to +understand showed in his face. + +"What is it--what is the matter?" Captain Southorn demanded angrily, +stepping toward the two other men. + +Hugh did not reply, and now they heard rapid footsteps approaching. + +"Here, this way,--come here!" shouted Hugh, who did not appear to have +heard the young Englishman's question. + +Farmer Gilbert had arisen slowly to his feet, and did not attempt to +escape from the grasp Hugh still kept upon his arm. + +"Oh, Hugh--what is it?" asked Dorothy, looking with frightened eyes at +his prisoner. + +"Never mind now, Dot," he answered hastily, but his voice softening. +"How came you here? You should not--" Then, with a half-sulky glance +as of apology to the young Englishman, he bit his lip and was silent. + +"We were standing in the path just now," said Captain Southorn, "when a +bullet came so close to us as to do this;" and he touched the torn +cloth on his shoulder. + +Hugh started. "Then it must have been you he was shooting at!" he +exclaimed, glancing angrily at the prisoner. + +"The bullet went just over my head and into a tree," said Dorothy, +continuing her husband's explanation. + +"Over your head, Dot!" cried Hugh. "So close to you as that!" And a +terrible look came to his face,--one that revealed his secret to the +purple-blue eyes watching him so keenly. "Oh--my God!" + +The appearance of several men--soldiers--cut the words short, and +restored Hugh's calmness, for, turning to them, he bade them take the +man and guard him carefully. + +"And I'll take this gun of yours," he said to him, "and see to it that +you get the treatment you deserve for such a cowardly bit of work." + +"Wait a bit, till I answers him," said Farmer Gilbert, now speaking for +the first time, as he turned to face Hugh, and holding back, so as to +arrest the steps of the men who were dragging him away. "I want to +say, young sir, that if ye had n't sneaked up on me from aback, an' +knocked my gun up, I'd hev done what I've been dodgin' 'round to do +these five days past--an' that were to put a bullet through the head or +d----d trait'rous heart o' that British spy in petticoats." + +His face was ablaze with passion, and he shook his clenched fist at +Dorothy, who stood looking at him as though he were a wild beast caught +in the toiler's net. + +Captain Southorn started forward; but Hugh motioned him back. Then +realizing the full sense of the fellow's words, he sprang upon him with +an oath such as no one had ever heard issue from his lips. + +Falling upon the defenceless man, he shook him fiercely. Then he +seemed to struggle for a proper control of himself, and asked +chokingly, "Do you mean to tell me that it was her you were aiming at +when I caught you?" + +He pointed to Dorothy, who was now clinging to her husband; and even in +that moment Hugh saw his arm steal about her protectingly. + +He turned his eyes away, albeit the sight helped to calm his rage, as +the bitter meaning of it swept over him. + +"Aye--it was," the man answered doggedly, nodding his bushy head; "an' +ye may roll me o'er the ground again, like a log that has no feelin', +an' send me to prison atop it all, for tryin' to do my country a +sarvice by riddin' it of a spy." + +The soldiers who were holding him looked significantly at each other +and then at Dorothy, who was still standing within the protecting arm +of the man they knew to be an English officer, and a prisoner who had +been captured, alone and at night, close to the spot where the +Commander-in-Chief was engaged in a conference with some of his +subordinates. + +Despite the fright to which she had been subjected, the girl was quick +to see all this, and the suspicion to which it pointed. And she now +astonished them all by leaving her husband's side, to advance rapidly +until she stood facing the soldiers and their prisoner, who cowered +away as he saw the flash of her eyes, and her small figure drawn to its +utmost height. + +"Do you dare say to my face that I am a British spy--I, Dorothy +Devereux, of Marblehead, whose only brother is an officer in Glover's +regiment? You lying scoundrel--take that!" And raising her +riding-whip, she cut him sharply across the face, the thin lash causing +a crimson welt to show upon its already florid hue. "And that," giving +him another cut. "And do you go to General Washington, and tell him +your wicked story, and I doubt not he'll endorse the writing of the +opinion I've put upon your cowardly face for saying such evil +falsehoods of me!" + +"Dot--Dorothy--whatever does this mean?" It was the voice of her +brother, as he dashed to her side and caught her arm, now lifted for +another blow. + +She shivered, and the whip fell to the ground, while Hugh ordered the +men to take their prisoner away. + +They obeyed, grinning shyly at each other, and now feeling assured that +no British spy was amongst them. + +Captain Southorn had stood motionless, looking at Dorothy in +unconcealed amazement. But her quick punishment of the fellow's insult +seemed to have a good effect upon Hugh Knollys, for his face now showed +much of its sunny good-nature. + +The sight of what she had done, no less than the sound of her voice, +had brought back the impetuous, wilful Dot of bygone days; and he found +himself thinking again of the little maid whose ears he boxed because +of the spilled bullets, years ago. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXV + +"Dorothy, speak,--what is it?" her brother demanded. "Hugh?" and he +turned questioningly, as Dorothy threw herself into his arms. + +"He called me a British spy," she sobbed, "and tried to shoot me!" + +He held her closer, while he listened to Hugh and Captain Southorn as +they told him of all that had passed. + +It appeared that Hugh, returning through the woods from his mission to +the outposts, had found a horse tied not far away from where they were +now standing. This struck him as something unusual; and looking about, +he noticed that the bushes were trampled and broken in a direction +which seemed to lead toward Washington's headquarters. + +Suspecting a possible spy, he had cautiously followed the plainly +marked way, and soon caught sight of a man dodging about, as if not +wishing to be seen, and so intent upon watching something in front of +him as to be quite unconscious of Hugh's approach. + +Stealing as close as possible, Hugh stood silent, now aware that the +man's attention was centred upon the regular pathway through the wood. + +Presently he saw him raise his gun, and feared it might be Washington +himself at whom he was aiming; for he knew the Commander-in-Chief was +to be abroad that morning, and he made no doubt that this was some +emissary of the enemy bent upon murdering him. + +Thinking only of this, Hugh had thrown himself upon the man, but too +late to prevent the discharge of the gun, although he succeeded in +diverting its aim. + +"And saved her life!" exclaimed Captain Southorn and John Devereux +together. + +Hugh uttered no word until Dorothy turned to him suddenly and took his +hand, while she looked up at him in a way that needed no speech. + +"Never mind, Dot," he said huskily. "You gave him a fine lesson, just +such as he deserved, and it does me good to think of it. Only, I'd +like to have done it myself." + +She blushed, and dropped his hand, stealing a sidewise glance at her +husband, who was looking at Hugh and herself. + +Jack was now about to speak; but Hugh started quickly, exclaiming, +"This will never do; I am forgetting my duty, and must hurry on and +make my report." + +"One second, Hugh," said Jack; "I have something to say to you." + +They walked along together, conversing in low tones, while Dorothy, +with a nervous little laugh, said to her husband, "Are you afraid of +me, now that you see the temper I possess?" + +"Nay, little one," he answered, drawing closer to her and taking her +hand. "You did nothing more than the circumstances richly provoked. +And," with a teasing laugh, "I do not forget a certain day, in another +wood, when my own cheek felt the weight of this same dainty hand's +displeasure." + +She looked a bit uncomfortable, and he hastened to add, "And I felt +afterward that I, too, received but my just deserts for my presumption." + +"I always wondered," she said, now smilingly, "what you could think of +a young lady who would rig herself up in her brother's raiment, to roam +about at night; and who would so far forget herself as to slap a +gentleman in the face,--and one of His Majesty's officers at that." + +He laughed. "Then you must know, sweet wife," he answered, as she +stood looking down, stirring the leaves with her boot tip, "that I only +loved you the better, if possible, for it all. It showed you to +possess a brave heart and daring spirit, such as are ever the most +loyal to the man a true woman loves. But for all those same acts of +yours, I'd not have dared to do as I did; but I felt that no other +course would lead you to follow the feeling I was sure I read in your +eyes." + +John Devereux, who had gone out to the roadway with Hugh, now called to +them. + +"Come, both of you," he said; "it is time to be off." + +"This must be our real good-by, little one." Captain Southorn glanced +about them, and then put his arm around Dorothy. "We shall both be +leaving shortly, and I cannot say good-by properly with a lot of other +folk about. Ah," with a shudder, and holding her up to his breast, +"when I think of what might have happened, had not your friend Hugh +come upon the scene, it makes it all the harder for me to let you go +again." + +"But there is no danger now," she said courageously; "the man is a +prisoner. But whatever could have put such a crazy idea into his +head?" she asked indignantly. + +"Did you never see him before?" her husband inquired. + +"Yes, at the Gray Horse Inn;" but her brother's voice, now calling +rather impatiently, cut short her story. + +"And will you come when I send word?" Captain Southorn asked. + +"Yes," she whispered. + +"Well, thank God it will be but a few days until then," he said, giving +her a parting kiss. "So for now, my wife,--my own little wife, adieu!" + +As they were taking their way to the house, Jack looked at his watch +and scowled a little as he saw the lateness of the hour. Then he +turned to Dorothy, and inquired, as her husband had done, in regard to +her knowledge of Farmer Gilbert. + +She told of all that Mary and herself had seen of him at the inn; and +her brother's quick perceptions put the facts together while he +listened. + +They found gathered before the house an unusual number of men, in +animated conversation; but as the three figures approached, they all +became silent, glancing at the new-comers in a way to indicate that the +recent occurrence had formed the subject of their discussion. + +Some of them now strolled away, while those who remained--all of them +connected with the headquarters--drew aside to let Lieutenant Devereux +and his companions pass. + +"Do you know if Sergeant Knollys is within, Harris?" Jack inquired, +addressing one of them. + +"Yes, I am quite sure you will find him inside." + +Turning to another of the men, Jack bade him have the horses brought at +once, and order the escort to be ready for immediate departure. + +"We shall have to hasten, Dot," he said hurriedly, as they went along +the hall. "And," addressing her husband, "Captain Southorn, I must now +turn you over to Captain Ireson." + +"Then I am not like to see you again," said the young Englishman, as he +extended his hand. + +"No, I should have gone to Boston with you, to escort Captain Pickett +on his return, but I have orders to see my small sister safely to the +house and care of our neighbor, Mistress Knollys." + +"And when are we to meet again?" + +He spoke earnestly, almost with emotion, for he had come to have a +strong affection for this handsome, high-spirited young Colonist, whose +face and manner so resembled Dorothy's. + +"Who can say?" asked Jack, sadly, as the two stood with clasped hands, +looking fixedly at one another. + +"Well, God grant that it be before long, and when our countries are at +peace," exclaimed Southorn. + +"Amen to that," answered Jack. "And," in a voice that trembled, "you +will always be good to--" The sentence was left unfinished, while his +arm stole about his sister's shoulders. + +"As God is my witness,--always," was the solemn reply. + +"And now, Dot," said her brother, with a contented sigh, and speaking +in a more cheerful tone, as if now throwing off all his misgivings, +"you must bid Captain Southorn farewell for a few days, and we will get +under way. But first I have to go with him and report to Captain +Ireson." + +She held out both hands to her husband, who bent over and pressed them +to his lips. + +"You will surely come when I send?" he asked softly. + +She nodded, looking up at him through her tears. + +In half an hour the party of soldiers, with Dorothy and her brother, +took the way to Dorchester, Hugh appearing at the last moment to say +farewell, as his duty called him in another direction. And it was not +long before a smaller party, bearing a flag of truce, set out with +Captain Southorn, to effect his exchange for Captain Pickett. + +The following day Farmer Gilbert was brought before General Washington, +who listened gravely to his attempted justification. Then, after a +stern rebuke, so lucid and emphatic as to enlighten the man's dull +wits, now made somewhat clearer by his confinement and enforced +abstinence, he was permitted to go his way. + +A week after this, little Mistress Southorn was escorted to the British +lines and handed over to her waiting husband; and a few days later, a +transport sailed, taking back to England some disabled officers and +soldiers, as well as a small number of royalists, who were forced to +leave the country for the one whose cause they espoused too openly. + +Dorothy was standing by the ship's rail, alone, her husband having left +her for a few minutes. She was busy watching the stir and bustle of +departure, when she recognized, in a seeming farmer who had come aboard +with poultry, the pedler, Johnnie Strings. + +The sight of his shrewd face and keen little eyes brought to her +mingled feelings of pleasure and alarm, and, wondering what his mission +could be, she hurried toward him. + +"Oh, Johnnie, is it safe for you to be here?" she exclaimed, as she +grasped his hand. + +"Sh-h, sweet mistress!" he said cautiously. "I won't be safe if ye +sing out in such fashion. Jest ye get that scared look off yer face, +while we talk nat'ral like, for the sake o' them as stands 'round. Ye +see I was the only one that could risk comin', an' I'm to carry back +the last news o' ye. But oh, Mistress Dorothy," and his voice took a +note of expostulation, "however had ye the heart to do it? But o' +course we all know 't was not really yer own doin', arter all. I tell +ye, mistress, that mornin' at the Sachem's Cave saw the beginnin' of a +sight o' mischief." + +She passed this by without comment, smiling at him kindly while she +gave him many parting messages for those at Dorchester, and for Aunt +Lettice and little 'Bitha, and all at the old house. + +The pedler promised to deliver them, and then looking into her face, he +sighed mournfully. + +"Aye, but 't is thankful I am, mistress, that yer old father ne'er +lived to see this day." + +"Oh, Johnnie, don't say that--how can you?" she cried impulsively. + +He saw the pained expression his words had brought, and added hastily, +as he drew the back of his hand across his eyes, "There, there, sweet +mistress, don't take my foolish words to heart, for my own is so sore +this day over all that's come to pass, an' that ye should be goin' away +like this, that I scarce know jest what I be sayin'." + +Before Dorothy could reply, she saw her husband approaching; and +Johnnie, seeing him as well, turned to go. + +"Won't you wait and speak to him?" she asked, a little shyly. + +"No, no, Mistress Dorothy," was his emphatic answer,--"don't ye ask +that o' me. I could n't stummick it--not I. God keep ye, sweet +mistress, an' bring ye back to this land some day, when we 've driven +out all the d----d redcoats." + +With this characteristic blessing, the pedler hastened away, and was +soon lost to sight amongst the barrels and casks piled about the wharf. + +A few hours later, Dorothy stood with her husband's arm about her, +watching through gathering tears the land draw away,--watching it grow +dim and shadowy, to fade at last from sight, while all about them lay +the purple sea, sparkling under the rays of the late afternoon sun. + +Her eyes lingered longest upon the spot in the hazy distance near where +she knew lay the beloved old home. + +"How far--how far away it is now," she murmured. + +"What, little one?" her husband asked softly. + +"I was thinking of my old home," she answered, surprised to have spoken +her thought aloud. "And," looking about with a shiver, "it seems so +far--so lonely all about us here." + +"Are you frightened or unhappy?" he asked, drawing her still closer to +him. + +She looked up with brave, loyal eyes, and answered, as had her +ancestress, Anne Devereux, when she and her young husband were about to +seek a new home in a strange, far-off land,-- + +"No--not so long as we be together." + + +Hugh Knollys fell--a Major in the Massachusetts line--during one of the +closing engagements of the war, and his mother did not long survive him. + +John Devereux passed through the conflict unharmed, and returned to the +farm, where he and Mary lived long and happily, with their children +growing up about them. + +They had each summer as their guests an Englishman and his wife--a +little, girl-like woman, whom every one adored--who crossed the sea to +pay them long visits. Sometimes the pleasant days found this +Englishman seated in the Sachem's Cave, his eyes wandering off over the +sea; and with him often would be Mary Broughton's eldest son, and +first-born--Jack, who had his Aunt Dorothy's curling locks and dark +eyes. + +The favorite story at such times, and one never tired of by either the +man or child, was that telling how in the great war his mother had +frightened a young English soldier so that he fell over the rocks, and +how, soon after this, a certain brave little maid had hurled the +burning lanterns from these same rocks, to save her brother and his +companions from danger. + +The youngster had first heard of all this from Johnnie Strings,--to the +day of his death a crippled pensioner on the Devereux farm--who never +seemed to realize that the war was over, and who had expressed marked +disapproval when 'Bitha, now tall and stately, had, following her +Cousin Dorothy's example, and quite regardless of her own long-ago +avowals, given her heart and hand to the nephew of this same British +soldier. + + +With this must end my story of the old town. But there is another +story,--that of its fisher and sailor soldiers, and it is told in the +deeds they have wrought. + +These form a goodly part of the foundation upon which rests the mighty +fabric of our nation. Their story is one of true, brave hearts; and it +is told in a voice that will be heard until the earth itself shall have +passed away. + +It was the men of Marblehead who stepped forward that bitter winter's +night on the banks of the Delaware, when Washington and his little army +looked with dismayed eyes upon the powerful current sweeping before +them, and which must be crossed, despite the great masses of ice that +threatened destruction to whosoever should venture upon its roaring +flood. They were the men who responded to his demand when he turned +from the menacing dangers of the river and asked, "Who of you will lead +on, and put us upon the other side?" + +The monument that commemorates the success at Trenton is no less a +tribute to the unflinching courage and sturdiness of the fishermen of +Marblehead, who made that victory possible. + +And, as there, so stands their record during all the days of the +Revolutionary struggle. Wherever they were--on land or water--in the +attack they led, in the retreat they covered; and through all their +deeds shone the ardent patriotism, the calm bravery, the unflinching +devotion, that made them ever faithful in the performance of duty. + + "When anything is done, + People see not the patient doing of it, + Nor think how great would be the loss to man + If it had not been done. As in a building + Stone rests on stone, and, wanting a foundation, + All would be wanting; so in human life, + Each action rests on the foregone event + That made it possible, but is forgotten, + And buried in the earth." + + +When the dawn of peace came, nowhere was it hailed with more exultant +joy than in Marblehead. + +Nowhere in all the land had there been such sacrifices made as by the +people of this little town by the sea. Many of those who had been +wealthy were now reduced to poverty,--their commerce was ruined, their +blood had been poured out like water. + +But for all this there was no complaining by those who were left, no +upbraiding sorrow for those who would never return. There was only joy +that the struggle was ended, and independence achieved for themselves +and the nation they had helped to create. And down the long vista of +years between their day and our own, the hallowed memory of their +loyalty shines out as do the lights of the old town over the night sea, +whose waves sing for its heroes a fitting requiem. + + + + +THE END + + + + + + +UP AND DOWN THE SANDS OF GOLD + +_A PRESENT-DAY NOVEL_ + + +BY MARY DEVEREUX + +Author of "From Kingdom to Colony" and "Lafitte of Louisiana." + +12mo. Decorated Cloth. $1.50. + + +A love story, told with delicacy and grace.--_Brooklyn Times_. + +Humor and pathos, love and adventure, abound throughout the work. +Spicy incidents are plentiful.--_Atlanta Constitution_. + +Margaret Leslie is a heroine who deserves a place in Mr. Howells' +gallery of immortal heroines in fiction.--_Rochester Herald_. + +Margaret Leslie's brave service in the battle with self is as +attractive as the patriotic deeds of Mary Devereux's former +heroine.--_New York Times Saturday Review_. + +The story is one of sunshine and shade, of smiles and tears. The +author has created for us a little company of people whom we learn to +love, and from whom it is hard to part.--_Boston Transcript_. + +The book is charmingly written, the style pure and strong, and the play +of native wit engaging.--_Outlook_, New York. + +A genius for depicting character in a telling way, and in a style that +is charming as well as pungent, is one of Mary Devereux's strongest +points.--_Rocky Mountain News_, Denver. + +It is a positive treat to read such a pure, sweet story,--a genuine +story of natural men and women in a seashore town in New +England.--_Buffalo Commercial_. + + +LITTLE, BROWN, & CO., Publishers + +254 Washington Street, Boston, Massachusetts + + +NEW & POPULAR FICTION + + +LAFITTE OF LOUISIANA + +By MARY DEVEREUX. Illustrated by Harry C. Edwards. + +12mo. 427 pages. $1.50. + +The remarkable career of Jean Lafitte during the French Revolution and +the War of 1812, and the strange tie between this so-called "Pirate of +the Gulf" and Napoleon Bonaparte, is the basis of this absorbing and +virile story,--a novel of love and adventure written by a skilled hand. + +This work is one of the most ambitious of its class, and it has in the +introduction of Napoleon as Lafitte's guardian angel a picturesque +feature which makes it of rather unusual interest.--_Philadelphia +Record_. + + +_By the Same Author_ + +FROM KINGDOM TO COLONY. Illustrated by Henry Sandham. 12mo. $1.50. + +UP AND DOWN THE SANDS OF GOLD. 12mo. $1.50. + + +THE GOD OF THINGS + +By FLORENCE BROOKS WHITEHOUSE. Illustrated by the author. 12mo. 288 +pages. $1.50. + +Of this novel of modern Egypt the _Philadelphia Telegraph_ says: "It is +a tale of fresh, invigorating, unconventional love, without the usual +thrilling adventures. It is wholesome, although daring, and through +its pages there vibrates a living spirit such as is only found in a few +romances." + +The _Boston Herald_ says: "Engages the attention of the reader from the +skill shown in the handling of the subject,"--divorce. + + +THE GOLDEN WINDOWS + +A Book of Fables for Old and Young. By LAURA E. RICHARDS, author of +"Captain January," "The Joyous Story of Toto," etc. With illustrations +and decorations by Arthur E. Becher and Julia Ward Richards. 12mo. +$1.50. + +This charming book will be a source of delight to those who love the +best literature. The stories are so simple and graceful that they +suggest Tolstoi at his best, and the moral attached to each fascinating +tale is excellent. Mrs. Richards' charm of style pervades this unique +collection of stories. The book is handsomely embellished. + + +THE AWAKENING OF THE DUCHESS + +By FRANCES CHARLES, author of "In the Country God Forgot," "The Siege +of Youth," etc. With illustrations in color by I. H. Caliga. 12mo. +$1.50. + +Frances Charles, the author of "In the Country God Forgot," writes in +an entirely new vein in her latest book, the best that this talented +young author has written. It is a pretty and touching story of a +lonely little heiress, Roselle, who called her mother, a society +favorite, "the Duchess"; and the final awakening of a mother's love for +her own daughter. + + +THE COLONEL'S OPERA CLOAK + +By CHRISTINE C. BRUSH. New Edition. Illustrated by E. W. Kemble. +12mo. $1.50. + +This favorite story is now issued in a new and attractive form, with +artistic renderings of its principal characters and scenes by E. W. +Kemble, the celebrated artist of negro character. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: From Kingdom to Colony + +Author: Mary Devereux + +Illustrator: Henry Sandham + +Release Date: November 7, 2010 [EBook #34232] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FROM KINGDOM TO COLONY *** + + + + +Produced by Al Haines + + + + + +</pre> + + +<BR><BR> + +<A NAME="img-cover"></A> +<CENTER> +<IMG CLASS="imgcenter" SRC="images/img-cover.jpg" ALT="Cover art" BORDER="2" WIDTH="363" HEIGHT="553"> +</CENTER> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="img-front"></A> +<CENTER> +<IMG CLASS="imgcenter" SRC="images/img-front.jpg" ALT="Dorothy Devereux Southorn with George Washington" BORDER="2" WIDTH="470" HEIGHT="744"> +<H4 CLASS="h4center" STYLE="width: 470px"> +Dorothy Devereux Southorn with George Washington +</H4> +</CENTER> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H1 ALIGN="center"> +FROM +<BR> +KINGDOM TO COLONY +</H1> + +<BR> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +BY +</H4> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +MARY DEVEREUX +</H3> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +<I>ILLUSTRATED BY HENRY SANDHAM</I> +</H4> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +BOSTON +<BR> +LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY +<BR> +1904 +</H3> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H5 ALIGN="center"> +<I>Copyright, 1899,</I> +<BR> +BY LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY. +<BR><BR> +<I>All rights reserved.</I> +</H5> + +<BR> + +<H5 ALIGN="center"> +PRESSWORK BY +<BR> +S. J. PARKHILL & CO., BOSTON, U. S. A. +</H5> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +TO +<BR> +MY FATHER +</H3> + +<BR> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +<I>OF WHOM IT IS INSCRIBED</I><BR> +</H4> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +"EMINENT IN LIFE AND NOBLE IN HEART, LOVING<BR> +TO MEN AND LOYAL TO CHRIST, HE WAS A BLESSING<BR> +TO THE WORLD AND AN HONOR TO THE CHURCH"<BR> +</H4> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<TABLE ALIGN="center" WIDTH="100%"> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top" COLSPAN="5"> +<A HREF="#prologue">PROLOGUE</A> +</TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top" WIDTH="20%"> +<A HREF="#chap01">CHAPTER I</A> +</TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top" WIDTH="20%"> +<A HREF="#chap02">CHAPTER II</A> +</TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top" WIDTH="20%"> +<A HREF="#chap03">CHAPTER III</A> +</TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top" WIDTH="20%"> +<A HREF="#chap04">CHAPTER IV</A> +</TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top" WIDTH="20%"> +<A HREF="#chap05">CHAPTER V</A> +</TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap06">CHAPTER VI</A> +</TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap07">CHAPTER VII</A> +</TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap08">CHAPTER VIII</A> +</TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap09">CHAPTER IX</A> +</TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap10">CHAPTER X</A> +</TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap11">CHAPTER XI</A> +</TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap12">CHAPTER XII</A> +</TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap13">CHAPTER XIII</A> +</TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap14">CHAPTER XIV</A> +</TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap15">CHAPTER XV</A> +</TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap16">CHAPTER XVI</A> +</TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap17">CHAPTER XVII</A> +</TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap18">CHAPTER XVIII</A> +</TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap19">CHAPTER XIX</A> +</TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap20">CHAPTER XX</A> +</TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap21">CHAPTER XXI</A> +</TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap22">CHAPTER XXII</A> +</TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap23">CHAPTER XXIII</A> +</TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap24">CHAPTER XXIV</A> +</TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap25">CHAPTER XXV</A> +</TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap26">CHAPTER XXVI</A> +</TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap27">CHAPTER XXVII</A> +</TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap28">CHAPTER XXVIII</A> +</TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap29">CHAPTER XXIX</A> +</TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap30">CHAPTER XXX</A> +</TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap31">CHAPTER XXXI</A> +</TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap32">CHAPTER XXXII</A> +</TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap33">CHAPTER XXXIII</A> +</TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap34">CHAPTER XXXIV</A> +</TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap35">CHAPTER XXXV</A> +</TD> +</TR> + +</TABLE> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="prologue"></A> + +<H2 ALIGN="center"> +From Kingdom to Colony +</H2> + +<BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +PROLOGUE +</H3> + +<P> +When William, Duke of Normandy, invaded England in 1066, and achieved +for himself the title of "Conqueror," one of those who accompanied him +was Robert D'Evreux, younger son of Walter, Earl of Rosmar, feudal +owner and ruler of the town of his name in Normandy. +</P> + +<P> +After the battle of Hastings, in which William won so great a victory, +he, wishing to honor the memory of the noblemen and knights by whose +aid it had been accomplished, placed their names upon a roll which was +suspended in a stately pile, called "Battle Abbey," erected by him upon +the field of battle. +</P> + +<P> +In the several exemplifications of "Battle Abbey Roll," as it was +termed, the name of Robert D'Evreux is variously expressed as +"Daveros," "Deverous," "Conte Devreux," and "Counte Devereux." +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +It was the close of an early May day in 1639. Charles I. was reigning +monarch of England, and the Scotch Covenanters were disturbing his +kingdom's peace. +</P> + +<P> +Against these malcontents Charles had sent his army, and Robert +Devereux, only son of the beheaded favorite of Elizabeth, and now third +Earl of Essex, had been made Lieutenant-General, he having already, by +his resolution and activity no less than by his personal courage, done +good service to the King and won much honor for himself. +</P> + +<P> +On this May day, in Warwick, far from all scenes of war or rumors from +court, Bromwich Castle, the home of Sir Walter Devereux, +Baronet—cousin and present heir of the King's unmarried +Lieutenant-General—lifted its turrets, about whose clinging ivy the +late afternoon sunshine played golden and warm. +</P> + +<P> +It was a huge pile, massively irregular in architecture, and its thick +walls bore traces of those times when a Baron of England was a power in +the land,—monarch of his domain, and chief of his own people. +</P> + +<P> +A rugged old tower was its keep, flanked by four symmetrical turrets, +and crowned by a battlement overlooking the whole country around. +About these clung ivy in a thousand thick wreaths; and here and there, +where it was not, the centuries had woven a fantastic tracery of moss, +green as the ivy itself, and delicate as frost-work. +</P> + +<P> +What had been the moat was now but a pleasant grassy hollow, carpeted +thickly with golden cowslips and fragrant violets, their growing lipped +by a tiny stream of purest water. +</P> + +<P> +The castle was surrounded almost to its walls by the forest of ancient +oaks, spreading in all directions, and becoming denser and more wild as +it stretched miles away. And here were the deer, numerous and fat, +that well supplied the larder for Sir Walter's board, or cooled their +sides amid the rankly growing brake and ferns, where naught troubled +the intense silence of the dusky aisles save the whir of the pheasant, +or the foot of the hare, light as the leaf dropping from the green arch +overhead. +</P> + +<P> +Sir Walter was in the forest this day, and with him were his three +goodly sons, besides several retainers. The notes of the horn had come +faintly to the castle now and again, as they pursued the chase; and up +in her apartments Anne, the seventeen-year-old wife of Sir Walter's +youngest son, sat watching for a first glimpse of the returning +huntsmen. +</P> + +<P> +Upon her knees lay an open volume, bound in white vellum, and with +clasps of pearl. It was richly illuminated, every page presenting a +picture gorgeous with color, and it was a carefully narrated story of +travel and adventure in that far-away country across the ocean for +which she and her young husband were soon to set sail. +</P> + +<P> +She paused over one of the illustrations, and gazed at it long and +earnestly, while her agate-gray eyes grew wide, and became filled with +consternation. It was the picture of an Indian chief, in all the +formidable toggery of war dress and paint; and his fierceness of mien +brought to her young heart a hitherto unknown dread and terror. +</P> + +<P> +The golden of the sun was turning to rose, when a clatter of hoofs and +the sound of men's voices drew her eyes toward the courtyard below. +</P> + +<P> +Resting her dimpled arms upon the rough stone of the window-ledge, she +leaned over and smiled down into the upturned face of her +twenty-two-year-old husband, whose dark eyes sought her casement ere he +dismounted from his tired horse, which the esquire at its head had now +little need to hold. He waved his hand to her, while a bright smile +illumined his grave face, and she responded by blowing him a kiss from +the tips of her taper fingers. +</P> + +<P> +The old Baronet, who had been the first to dismount, looked up as well, +and shook his hunting spear at her. +</P> + +<P> +"Ah, rogue!" he called out. "Wait till I catch thee! With never a +kiss to spare thy old father!" +</P> + +<P> +Her fresh young laugh rang out gayly as she retorted, "But I have many +an one, if you choose, good sir, as surely you wot right well." +</P> + +<P> +"'T is a dear child,—a sweet lass, Jack," the old man said to his +youngest son as the two entered the castle side by side. "My heart +misgives me at thought of her going to the far-off heathen country, +amongst savages and wild beasts; for, alack, who can tell what may +befall there?" +</P> + +<P> +Behind them followed Leicester, Sir Walter's eldest son, and beside him +was young Will,—in his boyhood a page, and now the heir's special +esquire. Walter, the next son, came after them, and then the retainers. +</P> + +<P> +These latter bore the deer slain that afternoon,—a famous buck, with +great spreading antlers; and the hounds were close by, sniffing about +the carcass with repressed excitement. +</P> + +<P> +The three sons of Sir Walter Devereux were much alike in coloring and +stature, being tall and stalwart, with broad shoulders, deep chests, +and martial bearing. Their faces were dark, with regular features and +full rounded foreheads, and the narrow, strongly marked eyebrows arched +over unusually large dark eyes. +</P> + +<P> +But the eyes of these three young men were totally different in +expression. Those of Leicester were apt to glow with over-haughtiness; +for albeit proof was not lacking to show that he had done kind deeds +and was a loyal friend and subject as well as a valiant soldier, he was +feared, rather than liked, by his subordinates. +</P> + +<P> +Walter's eyes bespoke his true nature,—a rollicking one. Indeed an +enemy of "Wat" Devereux were a hard matter to find. +</P> + +<P> +But, favorite though he was, his younger brother, John, went far beyond +him in this respect. His was a quiet nature, much given to +contemplation; one that drew the best from all hearts about him. He +had been his mother's idol; and his face was the last her dying eyes +sought three years before, as he sat, pale and silent, by her bedside, +calmly and prayerfully awaiting her end. He it was to whom the old +Baronet always opened his heart, when the elder son's haughty reserve +perplexed or hurt him, or Walter's recklessness brought trouble. +</P> + +<P> +Up in the dusking turret room, on the cushions by the open casement, +John Devereux now sat, dressed for the evening meal. +</P> + +<P> +Putting his strong arm about Anne, he drew her head to his shoulder, +and laughed when she showed him the picture that had so affrighted her, +while she confided to him her fears lest some such demon should work +evil upon him in that strange land in which they were about to find a +new home. +</P> + +<P> +"Nay, sweetheart," he said earnestly, "never would I think to take thee +to such perils. There be few, if any, such Indians in the country +where we shall abide. These writings treat of long-ago days, when +goodly English hearts were few on that shore. 'T is changed now; and +albeit somewhat rougher than here in our father's castle, 't is every +whit as safe. And think, sweetheart," he added proudly, "we shall be +the head of our name in this new land,—the same as our brother +Leicester here, in old England." +</P> + +<P> +She clung to him silently, while he stroked her soft hair and bent his +handsome head to see her face, now smiling, and looking more reassured. +</P> + +<P> +"Art thou still fearful, little one?" he asked presently. +</P> + +<P> +She lifted her face to look into his eyes, and clasped her arms about +his neck. +</P> + +<P> +"Fearful?" she repeated. "Nay, not I, so long as thou art with me." +</P> + +<P> +He drew her head against his breast, and a brooding peace fell upon +them, broken only by the cawing of the rooks circling about the tower, +or the melancholy notes of the ringdoves ensconced amid the ivy on the +ancient turrets. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +Across the broad Atlantic, on the rocky shore of Marblehead, the May +sun had been shining as golden and warm as in old England; and the new +home, although lacking the renown which age and legend had brought to +every stone of Bromwich Castle, was enveloped by the glory that comes +from the love of pure, brave hearts and God-fearing lives. +</P> + +<P> +Facing the open sea along a portion of the shore of what is now known +as Devereux and Clifton, lay the acres—forest and meadow land—of +which John Devereux was owner. The house—a low, rambling stone +building, of somewhat pretentious size for those days, and fitted with +stout oaken doors and shutters—stood in a small clearing. +</P> + +<P> +Only a few yards away were the sheds for cattle, placed thus near for +greater protection against thieving Indians, as well as the pilfering +pirates who at rare intervals swept along the coast and descended upon +the unwary settler, in quest of food or booty. +</P> + +<P> +The virgin forest rose all about, save to the southwest, where the +fields were planted to the extent of several acres; and beyond these +the forest came again, stretching away to the site of the present town +of Marblehead, more than a mile off. +</P> + +<P> +In front of the house was a small open space where the trees had been +cut away and the undergrowth removed, that a glimpse might be obtained +of the sea; and the land, sloping to the sands, ended in a noble sweep +of beach. +</P> + +<P> +A mile or more to the south and southwest, by Forest River, dwelt the +Indians, their wigwams not so many as a few years before; for want and +pestilence had sadly weakened the once proud Naumkegs. +</P> + +<P> +Their chief, the renowned Nanepashemet, was now dead; and the present +ruler, his widow, the "Squaw Sachem," was, like her tribe, too greatly +broken by the vicissitudes of fate to resist the encroachments of the +whites. And her only surviving son, Weenepauweekin, or, as the +settlers called him, "George," was either indifferent, or else too wise +to risk incurring further trouble for his tribe by assuming other than +an amicable attitude toward his white neighbors. +</P> + +<P> +And thus it was that between the settlers and the Naumkegs all was at +peace. +</P> + +<P> +The wife of Weenepauweekin, Ahawayet by name, was well known to Anne +Devereux and her husband; and both she and her daughter, a girl of +seventeen, were frequent visitors at the house of the "English Chief," +as John Devereux was called by the Indians. +</P> + +<P> +In her own gentle, coaxing way, Anne had undertaken to instruct +Ahawayet in the Christian faith, and hoped to impress also the wayward, +wild-eyed daughter, Joane, who would sometimes come from her dignified +playing with the children of the "English Chief" to crouch by her +mother, and listen to these teachings. +</P> + +<P> +When the news of Sir Walter's death had come across the sea, tears +gathered in Anne's eyes as she raised them to those of her sad-faced +husband. +</P> + +<P> +"I cannot but think," she said, "on Sir Walter's face, as we saw it +fade away while we stood on the ship's deck that morn, with the tears +streaming down his cheeks like I never saw them come from a man's eyes +before." +</P> + +<P> +"Aye," her husband added, "he was a dear, good father, and a friend as +well. God grant that we and them that come after us do naught to bring +reproach or sorrow to the name he hath worn, as have so many before +him, with pride, and right good dignity." +</P> + +<P> +The sun was sinking fast, and the odor of the forest growths was +beginning to mingle with the tang of the sea. +</P> + +<P> +The voices of men and women busy about the cattle and milking were +making a cheerful sound of life and bustle from the sheds and +outhouses; and on the low-roofed porch in front of the house door, +overhung with drooping vines, John Devereux's three sons, Humphrey, +John, and Robert, were busy at play. +</P> + +<P> +But they were not too busy to pause now and then to send searching +glances into the forest in quest of their father, whom they all united +in adoring as the wisest and greatest of created beings. +</P> + +<P> +Humphrey, the eldest, was looking forward proudly to his ninth +birthday, now almost at hand, when he was to have the promise fulfilled +of being permitted to go along with his father to hunt in the forest, +or out on the sea, to fish. +</P> + +<P> +Near them sat their mother, stouter and more matronly than the slender +Anne of ten years ago. The aforetime dainty hands were not guiltless +of toil stains, and the dark hair was now gathered beneath a snowy +mobcap, with only here and there a short, wayward curl stealing out to +trail across her brow or touch her pretty ears. +</P> + +<P> +A sudden shout from the boys announced their father's appearance, as he +came out of the woods and across the clearing, and with him Noah, the +darkey servant, well loaded with game. +</P> + +<P> +"Thou hast had a most successful hunt!" exclaimed Anne, smiling a +bright welcome into her husband's fond eyes, while the children's small +hands clung to him, and tiny brown fingers were poked into the mouths +of dead rabbits, or tweaked their whiskers to see if they were really +dead, or tried to pull open the beaks and eyes of slain birds. +</P> + +<P> +"Aye," was his laughing reply, as he gently freed himself from the +little clinging hands; "and I have found more in the forest than game +alone, in that I have a most ferocious appetite,—one I trust thou wilt +have a plenty to satisfy." +</P> + +<P> +"Give the game to David," said Anne, as a younger and smaller edition +of Noah approached, "and come thou within and see, for the supper hath +been ready this half hour." +</P> + +<P> +An hour later the children were all safely in Nodland, and husband and +wife were sitting either side the fireplace, where the burning wood was +pleasant to feel, for a chill had crept into the air. But the outer +door was open, and through it came the hoarse notes of the frogs down +in the swampy lands, mingled with the roar of the surf along the +near-by shore. +</P> + +<P> +They sat in silence, each content with the other's nearness, as they +watched the leaping flames, which made the only light in the room. And +this was reflected in a thousand scintillating sparks from the brass +fire-dogs that upheld the logs, and in the handles of the shovels and +tongs, scrubbed and polished with all the power of arm possessed by +Shubar, the Indian wife of old Noah. +</P> + +<P> +Suddenly a lithe, girlish form slipped through the half-open door, +coming with a tread as noiseless as the leaping shadows about the far +corners of the room, and Joane, the Squaw Sachem's granddaughter, +glided to the hearth and stood between John Devereux and his wife. +</P> + +<P> +So accustomed were they to such things that neither of them was +startled, but kindly bade her welcome. +</P> + +<P> +Crouching on the hearth, she turned her dusky face and glittering eyes +toward John Devereux, and said quietly and in a low voice, "Strange +boat—big boat in harbor, English Chief." +</P> + +<P> +He looked troubled, and Anne glanced at him apprehensively, while Joane +continued, now speaking more rapidly, "Gran'mudder sent me tell better +keep door shut—better get gun." +</P> + +<P> +"Thou dost mean that the Squaw Sachem sent thee to tell there be +danger?" John Devereux asked, half rising from his chair, and looking +toward the door. "She thinks they mean evil?" +</P> + +<P> +"Don't know how answer. English Chief talk too fast—ask too many +questions all same time. Go slow—then Joane hear right—tell him +right." And she smiled up into his face while she touched the slender +forefinger of her left hand with the fingers of the right, as if +waiting to enumerate his questions. +</P> + +<P> +"Thy grandmother sent thee?" +</P> + +<P> +The girl nodded, and touched a second finger. +</P> + +<P> +"She thinks the men on the ship may do us harm?" +</P> + +<P> +"Say don't like looks—got bad black faces," replied Joane, scowling as +though to illustrate her meaning. +</P> + +<P> +"Have any of them come ashore yet?" he asked anxiously. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes—so many," holding up seven brown fingers, "come 'shore. Get +water to drink—then go back to ship when sun shines. But no go 'way +yet—no mean to go. Tell gran'mudder want somethin' eat. Take our +corn, and pay no money." +</P> + +<P> +"Pirates!" John Devereux exclaimed, now starting to his feet, while he +looked at his wife, whose face paled. +</P> + +<P> +He hurried across the room, bolted and barred the stout door, and +examined the window fastenings, the Indian girl still crouching by the +hearth and watching him placidly, as if a pirate raid were a matter of +small moment. +</P> + +<P> +But her sparkling eyes, and the heaving bosom agitating the many bead +necklaces hanging from throat to waist, betrayed her. +</P> + +<P> +"See thou to the children, sweetheart, and warn the maids," John +Devereux said to his wife, as he took down his gun and examined it +carefully, "while I go to the men and see that the cattle be safe, and +the back of the house made secure." +</P> + +<P> +"Good!" exclaimed Joane, with quick approval. "English Chief no +sleep—heap good. Give Joane gun, too." +</P> + +<P> +"Had thou not best return to the wigwam, Joane, and to the Squaw +Sachem?" inquired Anne, pausing as she was about to leave the room. +</P> + +<P> +"What go for?" the girl demanded, while her eyes flashed with fierce +intensity. "No good go—can fight here—fight good, too. Joane stay +and fight by English Chief and his 'Singing Bird,'"—this being the +name given by the Naumkegs to Anne, on account of her musical voice. +</P> + +<P> +Knowing that nothing would turn Joane when once her ideas were fixed, +and knowing too that her skill with the bow and gun was equal to that +of any warrior, Anne was silent,—grateful indeed for any addition to +the slender force at hand for defence. +</P> + +<P> +There were in all but nine men, servants and laborers,—two of them +white, and the others either Africans or Indians; but they were all, +saving old Noah, young, stalwart, and fearless. +</P> + +<P> +John Devereux posted these men in the outbuildings and sheds, as cattle +were generally the spoil sought by the marauders when they visited the +coast. And when assigning them their positions, he warned them, should +they find themselves in danger of being overpowered, to give a signal +and retreat to the house, where a side-door would be opened for their +entrance. Then, having left with them a plentiful supply of +ammunition, he went within to mount guard over his wife and babies. +</P> + +<P> +He had five guns wherewith to arm his household, without counting his +own piece, and every woman in his service was acquainted with their +use. Even Anne herself had, under his own tuition, become no mean +markswoman. +</P> + +<P> +Within doors he found the women greatly excited, and fluttering about +aimlessly; but a few quiet words soon brought order amongst them, and +with it a return of their courage. Then, having accomplished this, he +went once more through the house, from the rooms downstairs to the +low-ceilinged sleeping apartments above, and satisfied himself that all +was secure. +</P> + +<P> +In the nursery he found his wife looking at the little boys, who were +lying on two great bags of ticking, stuffed with the feathers of wild +geese, and placed on the floor, in lieu of bedsteads. +</P> + +<P> +They were sleeping soundly, oblivious of the alarm about the house; and +standing beside his wife, his arm around her waist, John Devereux +looked down at them. +</P> + +<P> +On one of the pallets lay Humphrey, his strong young arms outstretched, +and his chest—broad for his years, and finely developed—-showing +white as alabaster where the simple linen garment was rarely buttoned +by his impatient fingers. +</P> + +<P> +On the other were the two younger boys; and Robert, the gentlest of the +three, with his father's own winsome nature, lay with his head half +pillowed against his brother John's shoulder. +</P> + +<P> +"What a blessed thing is childhood, and ignorance of danger!" murmured +Anne, looking at her husband. +</P> + +<P> +"Aye," he said softly, as they turned away. "So may we know no fear of +dangers that threaten, sweet wife, while we trust to Him who watcheth +us,—who 'slumbers not, nor sleeps.'" +</P> + +<P> +And as she had answered him ten years before, so she said to him now, +"So long as we be together, I have no fear." +</P> + +<P> +A long and shrill sound now broke the silence. It was the blowing of +the conch shell suspended in front of the outer door; and it announced +a visitor seeking admission. +</P> + +<P> +Surprised at this, and alarmed as well, husband and wife hurried to the +front room below stairs, where they found Joane still crouched upon the +hearth. Her bow, now unslung, lay close at hand, and she was examining +with pleased curiosity the clumsy blunderbuss resting across her +knees,—one that John, at her earnest request, had intrusted to her. +</P> + +<P> +"No enemy—make heap too much noise," was her sententious remark, as +she looked up from her inspection of the weapon. +</P> + +<P> +"Mayhap they but do that to disarm us," John replied, as he went +cautiously toward the door. +</P> + +<P> +He knew there was no way, except from the beach, for any one to +approach the house unseen by his faithful outposts. And he had +reckoned upon no attack coming from that quarter, as there was no +sailing breeze. Then, again, the pirates would be more likely to come +from the direction of the forest, hoping to effect a greater surprise +than if they came from the water. +</P> + +<P> +The wailing cry of the conch shell pierced the air for the second time, +to echo again in falling cadences that died away in the woods and over +the sea. +</P> + +<P> +Placing his lips to the loophole near the door, John Devereux now +demanded to know who was outside. +</P> + +<P> +A nasal, whining voice replied; and although the words were +indistinguishable, their sound caused the Indian girl to laugh +scornfully. +</P> + +<P> +She said nothing, however, but springing quickly to her feet, sped to +the small opening. Then, before her purpose could be understood, she +thrust the muzzle of the blunderbuss through the aperture. +</P> + +<P> +"Hold, Joane!" commanded John, as he caught her arm. "What is't thou +wouldst do,—kill, perchance, an innocent man? Put the gun down, +child, until I challenge again, and know for a surety who it be. +Methinks the voice hath a familiar sound." +</P> + +<P> +Joane obeyed him, still smiling maliciously as she said: "Only want +give him heap big scare. Him big 'fraid—him coward." +</P> + +<P> +"'T is Parson Legg!" exclaimed Anne, now recalling the piping voice, +and enlightened by Joane's contemptuous words. +</P> + +<P> +Her husband opened the door, and a slim, weazen-faced, bandy-legged +little man stepped hastily within, his eyes, small and keen as those of +a ferret, blinking from the sudden passing out of darkness into light. +</P> + +<P> +"Good e'en to thee, Parson Legg; thou art late abroad," said Anne, +coming forward. She did not smile, nor was there aught of welcome in +her voice or manner. +</P> + +<P> +But this lack of cordiality was not felt by the unexpected visitor, for +he doffed his steeple-crowned hat, which, like the rest of his apparel, +was much the worse for wear, and responded briskly, "Good e'en, +Mistress Anne, an' the same to you, neighbor John; I hope the Lord's +blessin' is upon all within this abode. Ah, who have ye here?" and he +peered down at Joane, who had resumed her place before the fire, her +back turned squarely toward Parson Legg as he stood in the centre of +the room. +</P> + +<P> +He came closer to her, but for all the notice she vouchsafed of his +words or presence she might have been one of the brass fire-dogs +upholding the blazing logs. +</P> + +<P> +"'T is the Squaw Sachem's granddaughter, Joane," replied John Devereux, +turning from the door, which he had refastened. +</P> + +<P> +"Aye, so it be," said the little man; "one o' the unregenerate heathen, +upon whom, if they turn not from their idolatrous ways, shall descend +smitings sore from the Lord. Hip an' thigh shall they be smitten, and +their places shall know them no more." +</P> + +<P> +"Joane hath no idols, good sir, that I know on," said his host, as he +came forward and offered the visitor a seat, and then took one himself +by the door. "She seemeth ever ready to heed the words of my good +wife, and our babes could not have a more gentle playfellow." +</P> + +<P> +Anne had seated herself near Joane, by the fire; and she looked with no +very friendly eyes at the Parson, as she said, "Think you not, good +sir, it were better to chide the 'unregenerate heathen,' as you call +them, with more gentleness?" +</P> + +<P> +His little eyes narrowed into yet meaner lines as he fixed them upon +her face. Then leaning forward to lay a finger upon the gun that again +lay across Joane's knees, he answered, "It would seem but poor excuse +to prate o' gentleness to one who at unseemly hours and seasons goeth +about with death-dealin' weapons, seekin' whom she may devour." +</P> + +<P> +The Indian girl still sat immovable; a statue could not have appeared +more bereft of hearing or speech. But to Anne's face there came a look +of fine scorn, which softened however into almost a smile as she +glanced at her husband. +</P> + +<P> +"Joane came to warn us of danger," John said quietly. "She tells us +there is a strange ship in harbor, and we be now armed to guard against +pirates,—for such they promise to be." +</P> + +<P> +Parson Legg sprang to his feet as though stung by a passing insect. +</P> + +<P> +"Pirates!" he repeated, in a shrill cry of alarm. "Pirates,—say ye +so? I heard naught o' such matter. I was in the woods hereabout all +the afternoon, readin' the psalmody, an' makin' joyful melody unto the +Lord, till darkness o'ertook me, an' I bethought myself to make my way +to this abode, neighbor John, as peradventure thou an' Mistress Anne, +thy wife, would give me food an' shelter in the Lord's name till +mornin'." +</P> + +<P> +Parson Legg was only an itinerant preacher, having long striven, but +without avail, to be accepted by the colonists as successor to their +late beloved pastor, the Reverend Hugh Peters, who had gone to England +some years before to act as their agent, and was likely to remain there +for some time to come, being now a chaplain in the army of Cromwell. +</P> + +<P> +But Legg was entirely unfitted, both by birth and education, for the +position to which he aspired. He was selfish and irritable, with a +grasping, worldly nature, despite his outward show of humility and +sanctity, and was regarded by the colonists with suspicion and illy +concealed dislike, while the Indians held him in positive hatred. +</P> + +<P> +Since the summer day, two years before, when he had come upon Joane in +the forest, attired in the manly habiliments of her tribe,—this being +only for greater convenience while hunting—and had hurled at her young +head anathemas such as fairly smelled of brimstone, it had been open +war between the two; and the very sight of one to the other was like +that of a plump kitten to a lively terrier. +</P> + +<P> +Anne had by this time set forth a meal upon the table, and +notwithstanding his recent fright, Parson Legg's little eyes glistened +voraciously as he drew up his chair, while he smacked his thin lips +more as would a sturdy yeoman, than like a meek and lowly follower of +the creed which crucifies the flesh and its appetites. +</P> + +<P> +John still kept his seat by the door, his keen ears listening intently +for any unusual sound without, while Parson Legg crunched away at the +venison and corn bread,—doing this with more gusto than was pleasant +for either eye or ear. +</P> + +<P> +Anne had left the room, motioning to Joane to follow her, and an +intense silence seemed to lie about the house, save as it was broken by +the sputtering of the fire upon the hearth and the sound of Parson +Legg's gastronomic vocalism, and now and then the subdued murmur of +women's voices from one of the rooms in the rear. +</P> + +<P> +A sudden roar of firearms, followed by wild yells and cries without, +shattered the peaceful brooding of the place, and caused Parson Legg to +spring wildly from his chair. +</P> + +<P> +"The heathen are upon us!" he gasped, his articulation being somewhat +impeded by the presence of a huge piece of venison in his mouth. "The +heathen are come upon us with riotin' an' slaughter! John—John +Devereux, hide me, I beseech thee,—hide me from their vengeance. I am +a man o' peace, an' the sight o' bloodshed is somethin' I could ne'er +abide." +</P> + +<P> +John paid no attention to the terrified little man, but springing up +with an impetuosity that sent his chair flying across the room, stood +erect and scowling, his face turned toward the sounds of strife, and +his strong fingers gripping his gun. +</P> + +<P> +"Anne—wife—where art thou?" he cried, as the din increased, and more +shots were fired. +</P> + +<P> +"Here." And she quietly entered the room, her face pale, but perfectly +calm. "The noise hath awakened the little boys, but I have left Shubar +with them, and promised to return shortly." +</P> + +<P> +"Where is Joane?" her husband asked quickly. +</P> + +<P> +"With Shubar and the boys." +</P> + +<P> +"Good; for then there be one gun near, to assure the little ones." +</P> + +<P> +He had been nervously fingering the hammer of his own piece, and while +speaking he crossed the room and took a position near that side of the +house from whence came the sound of firearms. +</P> + +<P> +Anne remained by the hearth, watching him closely, her tightly clenched +hands being all that told of the agitation within. +</P> + +<P> +"Are the little ones much affrighted?" he asked. +</P> + +<P> +"No," she said, still in her calm, sweet fashion; "they do not seem to +be—that is, not much. Humphrey begged that he might have a gun, and +Robert sat quiet, looking at me with eyes so like your own as he asked, +'Art fearful, mother? Father will ne'er let them hurt us.'" +</P> + +<P> +John Devereux smiled proudly, for the moment forgetting the din about +them. +</P> + +<P> +"And John," he asked,—"what said our second son?" +</P> + +<P> +"He seemeth most affrighted of all," she replied. "He wept at first, +and hid his face in my gown; but he was calm when I came away. Thou +knowest, John, that the lad hath not been well since the fever, last +fall." +</P> + +<P> +"Aye, true,—poor little Jack!" the father said. And he now wondered +what might have happened outside, for there was a ceasing of the uproar. +</P> + +<P> +He listened intently a moment. "Methinks, sweetheart, I'd best go +outside and see what this silence doth mean. Thou'lt not be fearful if +I leave the house awhile?" +</P> + +<P> +She grew still paler, but only shook her head. Then she asked +suddenly, "Where be Parson Legg?" +</P> + +<P> +Husband and wife looked about the room, and then at one another. +</P> + +<P> +"He was here when the firing began," said John, finding it difficult +not to smile as he recalled the scene. +</P> + +<P> +"But wherever can he have gone?" persisted Anne. +</P> + +<P> +"Hiding somewhere, I warrant me," was her husband's reply. "He is an +arrant—" +</P> + +<P> +His words were drowned by the roar of a blunderbuss, coming apparently +from just over their heads, and this was followed a moment later by a +wild yell of triumph from outside. +</P> + +<P> +It was from John's men, and he started to open the door. But before he +could do this there arose such a clamor in the nursery above that he +and Anne, forgetful of all else, sped up the stairway. +</P> + +<P> +Old Shubar's voice came to them raised in shrill cries, echoed by those +of the boys,—only that Humphrey and Robert seemed to speak more from +indignation than fright. +</P> + +<P> +Wondering what it could all mean, they hurried into the room, where an +absurd sight met their alarmed eyes. +</P> + +<P> +In one corner, beside Humphrey's pallet, stood Shubar, still uttering +the wild shrieks they had heard, and huddling about her were the three +boys,—John clinging to her gown, while Humphrey and Robert, both +facing about, were shouting at a strange figure that burrowed +frantically into the pallet occupying the opposite corner of the +chamber. +</P> + +<P> +"Shubar says 't is a witch," cried Robert. "Take thy gun and slay her +before she bring evil upon us." +</P> + +<P> +"Be quiet, my son," said his father, scarcely able to repress his +laughter, for at the sound of his voice Parson Legg's weazened face, +all blanched by fear, was lifted from out the pillows, and a pair of +terror-stricken eyes peered over his shoulder. +</P> + +<P> +He had been lying face downward, partially covered by the bedclothes, +under which he was still trying to conceal himself; and his +steeple-crowned hat, now a shapeless wreck, was pulled down over his +ears, as if to shut out more effectually the sounds of strife that had +well-nigh bereft him of reason. +</P> + +<P> +"It would seem thou canst preach far better, Parson Legg, than defend +thyself from the enemy," John Devereux said rather grimly, looking down +with unconcealed contempt upon the little coward, while Anne busied +herself in reassuring the children and quieting Shubar's angry +mutterings. +</P> + +<P> +"Even so, neighbor John, even so," answered the Parson, in no wise +disconcerted at the sarcasm of the other's words and tone, and making +no movement to emerge from his retreat. "As I told thee below, I am a +man o' peace, an' I like not the sound o' war an' the sight o' +bloodshed. But what doth this silence portend?—are the enemy +routed,—are they vanquished, an' put down, smitten hip an' thigh, an' +put to flight by thy brave followers?" +</P> + +<P> +His anxious queries met with no reply, for John Devereux, who was +standing upon the threshold of the room, had become conscious of a +sharp current of air blowing upon his cheek. It told him that the +scuttle was open overhead, and turning about, he darted swiftly up the +ladder. +</P> + +<P> +He was soon upon the roof, and here he stood a few moments and looked +keenly about. +</P> + +<P> +The voices of his men came to him from the ground below. They had left +their concealment, and the lightness of their tones told him that all +danger was past. +</P> + +<P> +As his eyes became more accustomed to the gloom, the dim starlight +revealed to him the outlines of a form crouching behind the great +chimney not far away. +</P> + +<P> +"Joane!" he called softly, suspecting who it might be. +</P> + +<P> +She arose and came to him, and he heard her laughing to herself. +</P> + +<P> +"What camest thou up here for?" he demanded, speaking quite sharply. +</P> + +<P> +"Joane shoot pirate captain," she answered, still laughing. "Heap +scare 'em—no know where shot come from—all run away to ship." +</P> + +<P> +And so it proved. The marauders, having received a very different +reception from the one they had expected, were utterly discomfited when +an unseen enemy—in the person of Joane and her blunderbuss—scattered +a mighty charge of slugs and bullets in their midst. Their leader was +struck in the arm, and fearing they had fallen into an ambuscade from +which it would be difficult to escape, he shouted to his men that he +was wounded, and bade them fly to the ship. +</P> + +<P> +This was the last of the raids that had so annoyed the colonists, and +thenceforth they were free from such molestation. +</P> + +<P> +John Devereux's days passed on, full of peace and pleasantness, until +he died at a ripe old age, respected and loved by all his +fellow-townsmen, and mourned deeply by the faithful wife who did not +long survive him. +</P> + +<P> +The boys lived to man's estate, were married, and had children of their +own. But Humphrey and John died in their father's lifetime; and so it +was that Robert, the second son, became the heir. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap01"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER I +</H3> + +<P> +Marblehead, and July, in the year of our Lord 1774. +</P> + +<P> +In the harbor (now known as Great Bay) the water lay, a smooth, +glistening floor of amethystine hue, shut in protectively by the +"Neck," thrust out like a strong arm between it and the rougher sea +beyond, stretching, purple and endless, to the rim of the cloudless +horizon. +</P> + +<P> +To the north and northwest lay the islands, the nearer ones sharply +outlined in trees and verdure, but showing here and there a grayness of +beach or boulder, like the bald spot among some good man's otherwise +plentiful locks. +</P> + +<P> +Looking eastward, Cat Island was closest of all to the mainland, the +charred ruins upon it showing sharply in the brilliant afternoon +sunshine; and here, amid the desolation, a few of the blackened timbers +still remained upright, like arms lifted in protest against the +vengeance visited upon the hospital a short time before by the +well-meant zeal of the infuriated townsfolk. +</P> + +<P> +In August of the previous year, during an epidemic of smallpox, a +meeting was called in the townhouse, and Elbridge Gerry, John Glover, +Azor Orne, and Jonathan Glover petitioned that a hospital be built on +Cat Island, for the treatment of smallpox patients, or else that the +town permit certain individuals to do this at their own expense. +</P> + +<P> +The town refused to build the hospital, but gave permission to the +individuals to construct one, provided the adjoining town of Salem gave +its consent; it being also stipulated that the hospital should be so +regulated as to shield the inhabitants of Marblehead from any "danger +of infection" therefrom. +</P> + +<P> +The necessary approval having been obtained from Salem, preparations +were made in September for erecting the hospital. +</P> + +<P> +By this time some of the people of Marblehead had become impressed with +the fear that by the establishing of the hospital the dread disease +would become a prevailing pest amongst them. Their terror made them +unreasonable, and they now fiercely opposed the scheme to which they +had once given their consent, and demanded that the work be abandoned; +but the proprietors, filled with indignation at what they considered +rank injustice, persisted in carrying out their worthy project to +completion. +</P> + +<P> +In October the hospital was finished, and placed in charge of an +eminent physician from Portsmouth, who had attained a wide reputation +for his success in the treatment of smallpox. Several hundred patients +came under his care, with gratifying results. But a few had died, and +this fact brought about bitter and active hostility from the +malcontents. They demanded that the place be abandoned at once; and +threats of violence began to be made. +</P> + +<P> +The feeling gained in strength and intensity, until at length the +proprietors gave up the contest. And then, to assure themselves that +the hospital should not be reopened, a party of the townspeople, +closely disguised, crossed to Cat Island one night in the following +January, and left the buildings in flames. +</P> + +<P> +But now these summer weeks found the town excited and tumultuous over +still graver matters. The British government had found it +impracticable to enforce the duty upon tea, and resorting to +subterfuge, adopted a compromise whereby the East India Company, +hitherto the greatest losers by the diminution of its exports from +Great Britain, was authorized to send its goods to all places free of +duty. +</P> + +<P> +Although the tea would now become cheaper for the colonists, they were +not deceived by this new ministerial plan. And when the news was +received that the East India Company had freighted ships with tea +consigned to its colonial agents, meetings were held to devise measures +to prevent the sale or unloading of the tea within the province. +</P> + +<P> +The agents, when waited upon by the committee chosen for that purpose +in Boston, refused flatly to promise that the tea should not be +unloaded or sold by them; and they were forthwith publicly stigmatized +as enemies to their country, and resolutions were adopted providing +that they, and all such, should be dealt with accordingly. +</P> + +<P> +In December, 1773, the historical "Tea Party" took place in Boston +harbor; and in the following spring Governor Hutchinson resigned, and +General Thomas Gage was appointed in his stead. +</P> + +<P> +Bill after bill was passed in Parliament and sanctioned by the King, +having in view but the single object of bringing the people of +Massachusetts to terms. The quartering of English troops in Boston was +made legal. Town meetings were prohibited except by special permission +from the Governor. And finally the infamous "Port Bill" was passed, +which removed the seat of government to Salem, and closed the port of +Boston to commerce. +</P> + +<P> +In July subscriptions were being solicited by order of the town of +Marblehead for the relief of the poor of Boston, who were suffering +from the operation of the "Port Bill," and all the buildings which +could be utilized, even to the town-house, were placed at the disposal +of the merchants, for the storage of their goods. +</P> + +<P> +In defiance of Parliament, whose act had practically suppressed all +town meetings, the people of Marblehead continued to assemble and +express their views, and discuss the grave questions then agitating the +entire country. The very air of the sea seemed to murmur of war and +the rumors of war; and the hearts of thinking men and women were heavy +with forebodings of the struggle they felt to be imminent. +</P> + +<P> +But the little town was lying brooding and peaceful this July +afternoon. Its wooded hills to the west sent shadows across the grassy +meadows and slopes, rising and falling to meet the sand-beaches, or +ending in the headlands of granite that made sightly outlooks from +which to scan the sea for threatening ships. +</P> + +<P> +Under the pines that made shadows along the way, a horseman was going +leisurely along the road leading to the Fountain Inn. +</P> + +<P> +To his left lay level meadow lands, rising into hills as they neared +the inn, the old Burial Hill—the town's God's Acre—being highest of +all. To his right, the green fields and marshes stretched unbroken to +the sea, save for here and there a clump of bushes and tangled vines, +or a thicket of wild roses. The road before him ended in two branches, +one leading to the rising ground on the right, where stood the Fountain +Inn, while to the left it terminated in a sandy beach, before which +stretched the peaceful waters of Little Harbor, now whitened with the +sails of East Indian commerce, and the craft belonging to the fishing +fleets that plied their yearly trade to the "Banks" and to Boston. +</P> + +<P> +No large ship could come nigh the shore in Little Harbor; whereas in +the deep bay lying between the Neck and the town, the enemy's vessels +might anchor by the land itself. And here the townsfolk kept a most +active lookout, which left the hills and beaches of Little Harbor +almost deserted. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap02"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER II +</H3> + +<P> +The bridle was lying slack upon the neck of the horse, who picked his +way carefully along the road, his hoofs now clicking over the stony +highway, now falling noiselessly upon the brown pine needles. And the +occasional clatter of his shoes, or the busy chatter of a squirrel high +up in a tree, were the only sounds to interrupt the musings of the +stalwart rider, whose head was bowed, and whose eyes strayed moodily +about. +</P> + +<P> +He was dark and tall, well knit, and of powerful build, yet lithe and +graceful. The wandering breeze whipped out stray curling locks about +his ears and temples from the mass of dark hair done up in a queue. +The broad-brimmed riding-hat was pulled well down over his strongly +marked brows, and the smooth-shaven face betrayed the compressed lips +of the large but finely formed mouth. +</P> + +<P> +A flash of something white speeding across the road a few yards in +front of him caused the dark eyes to open wide, and brought his musings +to a sudden end. +</P> + +<P> +Across the marshes to the left he caught a glimpse of twinkling feet, +encased in low steel-buckled shoes that seemed to be bearing away from +him a fleeting cloud of white drapery. +</P> + +<P> +It was a female, with her so-called "cut" (a dress-skirt so narrow and +straight as to make rapid movement very difficult) thrown up over her +head and shoulders, as she went over the grass toward the beach at the +side of the road facing the Neck. +</P> + +<P> +Recognizing her at once, the horseman called out, "Dorothy!" and +spurred his horse out of the road and across the marsh. +</P> + +<P> +As though hearing him, she paused, and without lowering the "cut," +turned to look over her shoulder. +</P> + +<P> +The wind, catching her dress, blew the white folds aside, showing a +roguish face, and one bearing a strong family resemblance to the man in +pursuit. But her features were small and delicate, while his, although +not lacking in refinement, were far bolder in strength of outline. +</P> + +<P> +She had the same dark eyes, set far apart under delicate but firmly +marked brows,—the same swart curling lashes, and riotous locks. +</P> + +<P> +But here the likeness ceased; for while his face was grave, and full of +a set purpose and resolution, hers was almost babyish, and full of +witchery, with a peachy bloom coming and going in the rounded cheeks. +</P> + +<P> +She was panting a little from her running, and now stood, waiting for +him to speak, her red lips parted in a mocking smile that showed two +rows of little teeth, white as the meat of a hazel-nut. +</P> + +<P> +"What mischief have you been up to, you little rogue, and why are you +running away from me?" he asked. He spoke with quiet good nature, but +looked down at her with an elder brother's reproof showing in his face. +</P> + +<P> +She did not answer, but only glanced up at him from the sheltering +folds of the skirt, billowing about her face like a cloud, while the +horse, recognizing a loved playmate, whinnied, and bowed his head to +her shoulder as if mutely begging a caress. +</P> + +<P> +"You have been to see Moll Pitcher again," the young man asserted; "and +you know our father would be angry that you should do it. And 't is +very wrong, Dorothy, in these times, that you should be over in this +part of the town alone." +</P> + +<P> +Her brother called her so rarely by her full name that a change from +the caressing "Dot" to the solemn-sounding "Dorothy" was a sure mark of +his displeasure. +</P> + +<P> +The smile died from her face, and her eyes fell. But she looked +mutinous, as she raised a small hand to stroke the horse's nose. +</P> + +<P> +"I did not come alone, Jack," she explained. "Leet rowed me over, and +Pashar came with us; and I had little 'Bitha, too." +</P> + +<P> +"An old darkey, who sits dozing in the boat, half a mile away from you, +with his twelve-year-old grandson, and little Tabitha! These make a +fine protection, truly, had you met with soldiers or other troublesome +people," he said with some sarcasm. "Do you not know there was a new +vessel, filled with British soldiers, went into Salem harbor +yesterday—and belike they are roaming about the country to-day?" He +switched his riding-boot as he spoke, scowling as though the mention of +the matter had awakened vengeful thoughts. +</P> + +<P> +"Hugh Knollys has but just ridden over from Salem; and he said they +were all housed there, along with the Governor," the girl said eagerly, +glad to find something to say in her defence, as well as to turn the +current of her brother's thoughts. +</P> + +<P> +"Hugh Knollys!" he repeated. "Has he been at our house this day?" +</P> + +<P> +"No-o," she answered hesitatingly. "We met him just now as we came out +of Moll's. He is at the Fountain Inn." +</P> + +<P> +"We," he said, a smile showing about the corners of his lips. "Are you +His Gracious Majesty, Dot, that you speak of yourself as 'We'?" +</P> + +<P> +At the sound of her baby name, all the brightness returned to her face, +and glancing up at him, she whispered mischievously, "Look in the +thicket behind you." +</P> + +<P> +He turned to send a keen glance into the clump of bushes and vines +growing some dozen yards closer to the road he had just left; and there +he caught a glimpse of pale blue—like female raiment—showing amid the +foliage. +</P> + +<P> +Wheeling his horse quickly, he rode toward it; and what he now saw was +a tall, blonde girl of eighteen or thereabouts, who arose slowly from +where she had been hiding, and came forward with a dignity that savored +of defiance, although there seemed to be a smile lurking in the corners +of her mouth. +</P> + +<P> +Her gypsy hat hung by its blue ribbons on one white rounded arm, bared +to the elbow, as the fashion of her sleeve left it. The neck of her +pale blue gown was low cut; but a small cape of the same material was +over it,—crossed, fichu-wise, on her bosom, and then carried under the +arms, to be knotted at the back. +</P> + +<P> +Her round white throat rose out of the sheer blue drapery in fine, +strong lines, to support a regal head, crowned with a glory of pale +brown hair, now bared to the sun, and glinting as though golden +sparkles were caught in its silky meshes. +</P> + +<P> +As she approached, the rider held up his horse, and sat motionless, +staring at her, while a merry peal of laughter, silvery as chiming +bells, broke from sixteen-year-old Dorothy. +</P> + +<P> +"Mary Broughton!" the young man exclaimed at length, as he looked +wonderingly at the fair-haired girl. +</P> + +<P> +She paused a yard away and swept him a mocking courtesy as she +said,—and her musical voice was of the quality we are told is "good in +woman,"—"Aye; at your service, Master John Devereux." +</P> + +<P> +"Then you have been with our madcap here?" he asked, now finding his +tongue more readily. +</P> + +<P> +"All the afternoon—an it please you, sir," she replied in the same +tone of playful irony. +</P> + +<P> +"It does please me," he said, now with a smile, "for it was much better +than had Dot been alone, as I supposed at first. But think you it is +safe for you two girls to come wandering over here by yourselves?" And +in the look of his dark eyes, in the very tone of his voice, there was +something different,—more caressing than had been found even for his +small sister, who had now drawn close to them. +</P> + +<P> +Mary Broughton slipped her arm through Dorothy's, and the mockery left +her face. +</P> + +<P> +"I suppose not," she answered frankly. "But, to tell the truth, I had +not thought of such a thing until you mentioned it. We've not met a +soul, save Hugh Knollys, who was riding into the inn yard as we came +from Moll Pitcher's." +</P> + +<P> +"And so you have been to consult Moll's oracle?" the young man said +banteringly. +</P> + +<P> +The white lids fell over the honest blue eyes that had been looking +straight up into his own. The girl seemed greatly embarrassed, and her +color deepened, while Dorothy only giggled, and slyly pinched the arm +upon which her slender fingers were resting. +</P> + +<P> +Mary gave her a quick glance of reproof. Then she raised her eyes and +said hesitatingly, "We heard she was down from Lynn, on a visit to her +father." +</P> + +<P> +"You girls are bewitched with Moll Pitcher and her prophecies," he +exclaimed with a laugh. +</P> + +<P> +"Ah—but she tells such wonderful things," began Dorothy, impetuously. +But Mary Broughton laid a small white hand over the red lips and +glanced warningly at her companion. +</P> + +<P> +"What did she tell?" the young man asked. But now Dorothy only smiled, +and shook her head. +</P> + +<P> +"Come, Dorothy," Mary said, "we had best get back to the boat." And +she turned to go; but the younger girl hung back. +</P> + +<P> +"Are you going to a meeting at the inn, Jack?" she inquired, looking at +her brother. +</P> + +<P> +"Little girls must not ask questions," he answered, yet smiling at her +lovingly. "But do you hasten to the boat, and get home, Dot, you and +Mary. It troubles me that you should be about here. Hurry home, +now,—there's a good little girl." But he looked at both of them as he +spoke. +</P> + +<P> +"Shall you be home by evening?" his sister asked, keeping her face +toward him as she backed away, obliged to move in the direction of the +beach; for Mary, still holding her arm, was walking along. +</P> + +<P> +He nodded and smiled; then riding back to the highway, wheeled his +horse and stopped to watch the two figures making their hurried way +across the marsh. But his eyes rested longest upon one of them, tall +and regal, her blonde head showing golden in the waning light, the +vivid green of the marshes and the deep purple of the sea making a +defining background for the beauty of the woman to whom John Devereux +had given his lifelong love. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap03"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER III +</H3> + +<P> +"Oh, Mary, there is Johnnie Strings!" exclaimed Dorothy, as they drew +near shore, where lay the rowboat, beached on the sand, with Leet, the +faithful old darkey, sitting close by, awaiting the pleasure of his +adored young mistress. +</P> + +<P> +Near him a little girl of seven was gathering pebbles, her heavy blonde +braids touching the tawny sand whenever she stooped in her search. And +crouched by his grandfather Leet was the boy Pashar, looking like an +animated inkspot upon the brightness all about. His white eyeballs and +teeth showed sharply by contrast with their onyx-like settings, as he +sat with his thick lips agape, literally drinking in the words of the +redoubtable Johnnie Strings, a wiry, sharp-faced little man, whose +garments resembled the dry, faded tints of the autumn woods. +</P> + +<P> +Johnnie, with his pedler's pack, stored with a seemingly unlimited +variety of wares, was a well-known and welcome visitor to every +housewife in town. He lived when at home (which was rarely) in a +hut-like abode up among the rocks of Skinner's Head; and the highway +between Boston and Gloucester was tramped by him many times during the +year. +</P> + +<P> +He owned a raw-boned nag of milk-white hue, and rejoicing in the name +of Lavinia Amelia; and these two, with a yellow cur, constituted the +entire <I>ménage</I> of the Strings household. +</P> + +<P> +Johnnie, like Topsy, must have "just growed," for aught anyone ever +knew of a parent Strings. The one item of information possessed by his +acquaintances was that his name was not Johnnie Strings at all, but +"Stand-fast-on-high Stringer,"—an indication that he must have +received his baptism at Puritanical hands. +</P> + +<P> +Either "Stand-fast-on-high" became more unregenerate as his infancy was +left behind, or else his associates had no great taste for Biblical +terms as applied to every-day use; for his real name had long since +become vulgarized to the common earthiness of "Johnnie," and "Stringer" +had been reduced to "Strings." +</P> + +<P> +He now sat upon his pack—a smaller one than he usually carried—and +was saying to Leet, "Now that there be so cantankerous a lot o' them +pesky King's soldiers 'bout us, there's no sayin' what day or night +they won't overrun the hull country, from the Governor's house at +Salem, clean over here to the sea; an' every man will be wise, that +owns cattle, to sleep with one eye an' ear open, an' a gun within +reach." +</P> + +<P> +"What are you saying, Johnnie Strings?" called out Dorothy, as she and +Mary came up. "Are you trying to frighten old Leet into fits?" +</P> + +<P> +The little pedler sprang to his feet and snatched off his battered +wreck of a hat, showing a scant lot of carroty hair, gathered tightly +into a rusty black ribbon at the nape of his weather-beaten neck. +</P> + +<P> +"Only sayin' God's truth, sweet mistress," he answered, bowing and +scraping with elaborate politeness. "I've just come from over Salem +way; an' yesterday evenin' ye could scarcely see the ground for the red +spots that covered it. There were three ship-loads came in yesterday, +to add to the ungodly lot o' soldiers already there." +</P> + +<P> +Mary looked troubled, but Dorothy only laughed. And little 'Bitha, +abandoning her search for shells and pebbles, pressed closely against +her cousin, looking up out of a pair of frightened eyes, blue as +forget-me-nots, as she asked, "Does Johnnie say the soldiers are coming +after us, Dot?" +</P> + +<P> +Dorothy checked herself in what she was about to say, and bent to +reassure the little one, putting an arm about her neck to draw the +golden head still closer to her. +</P> + +<P> +"What are they come down from Boston for, Johnnie?" Mary asked; "do you +know?" +</P> + +<P> +He cocked his head aslant, and resumed his hat, screwing up one eye in +a fashion most impudent in any man but himself, as he looked at her +with a cunning leer. Then he said: "There's no harm to come from 'em +yet. But soldiers be a lawless lot, if they get turned loose to look +after we folk 'bout the coast here, as is like to be the case now. An' +so I was just meanin' to hint to ye that 'twould be as well to stop +nigher home, after this day." +</P> + +<P> +Old Leet, who had listened with a stolid face to all this, was now +pushing the boat into the water, while Pashar stood gaping at the +pedler, until ordered gruffly by his grandsire to stand ready to hold +the craft. +</P> + +<P> +"Have you knowledge that they are coming down here?" inquired Mary, +speaking more insistently than before. +</P> + +<P> +"We-l-l, yes, I have," he admitted with a drawl, and was about to add +something more, when Dorothy, who had deposited 'Bitha in the boat, and +was now getting in to take her own place in the stern, said to him, +"Come with us, Johnnie, and we'll take you home, as we pass quite close +to your"—hesitating a second—"your house." +</P> + +<P> +"No, thank ye, mistress," he replied, grinning proudly at the dignity +she had bestowed upon his humble abode. "I've that will take me up to +Dame Chine, at the Fountain Inn, an' I should be there this very +minute, an' not chatterin' here. But I was tired, an' when I came +along an' saw old Leet, sat down to rest a bit." +</P> + +<P> +"When are you intending to fetch that pink ribbon you promised me weeks +ago, and the lace for Aunt Lettice?" demanded Dorothy, as Mary +Broughton stepped over the intervening seats, past Leet, at the oars, +with small 'Bitha alongside him, and took her place beside her friend. +</P> + +<P> +"I've both in my pack, up at the hut; I'll bring 'em to the house this +week, ye may depend on it," answered Johnnie, as Pashar pushed off the +boat, springing nimbly in as the keel left the sand. +</P> + +<P> +"If you do not, I'll never buy another thing from you so long as I +live," the girl called back, with a wilful toss of her head, as Leet +pulled away with strong, rapid strokes. +</P> + +<P> +"'T is all wrong for two pretty ones like them to be roamin' 'round in +such fashion," said Johnnie to himself, as he stooped to take up his +pack. Then suddenly, as if remembering something, he turned to the +shore and called out, "Shall ye find Master John at home, think ye, +Mistress Dorothy?" +</P> + +<P> +Her voice came back silvery clear over the distance of water lying +between them. "No; he is up at the Fountain Inn." +</P> + +<P> +"Ah, as I thought," the pedler muttered, with a meaning smile. "I'll +just be in the nick o' time." +</P> + +<P> +"What think you it all means, Mary?" Dorothy asked, the two sitting +close together in the boat. +</P> + +<P> +"What <I>all</I> means?" echoed Mary, in an absent-minded way, her head +turned toward the shore they were leaving, where on the higher land the +far-away windows of the Fountain Inn were showing like glimmering stars +in the light of the setting sun. +</P> + +<P> +"Why," Dorothy explained, smiling at Mary's abstraction, "all these +soldiers coming down here? And Johnnie acts and talks as if he could +tell something important, if he chose." +</P> + +<P> +"You know, Dot, we are like to have serious trouble,—perhaps a war +with the mother country." +</P> + +<P> +"And all because of a parcel of old tea!" exclaimed Dorothy, with great +scorn. +</P> + +<P> +Mary now turned her face in the direction the boat was going, and +smiled faintly. "The tea is really what has brought matters to a +head," she said. "But there is more in it than that alone, from what +I've heard my father say. And there is much about it that we girls +cannot rightly understand, or talk about very wisely. Only, I hope +there will be no war. War is such a terrible thing," she added with a +shudder, "and you know what Moll told us. I almost wish we had not +gone to see her to-day." +</P> + +<P> +"I am not a bit sorry we went," said Dorothy, stoutly. "I am glad. +What did she say,—something about a big black cloud full of lightnings +and muttering thunder, coming from across the sea, to spread over the +land and darken it? Was n't that it?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, and much more. Do you think she was asleep as she talked to us, +Dot? She looked so strangely, and yet her eyes were wide open all the +time." +</P> + +<P> +"Tyntie does the same thing at times. She says it's 'trance.' But +Aunt Penine always puts me out of the kitchen when Tyntie gets that +way, and so I don't know whether she talks or not. I mean to try and +find out, if I can, the next time Tyntie gets into such a state." +</P> + +<P> +"Nothing seems strange for Indians to do or to be," Mary said musingly; +"but I never heard of such things amongst white people." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, yes, you did," Dorothy answered quickly. "Whatever are you +thinking of, not to remember about the witches? 'T is said they could +foretell to a certainty of future happenings. I wish I'd lived in +those days, although it could not have been pleasant to see folks +hanged for such knowledge. As for Moll Pitcher,—I guess she might +have been treated as was old Mammie Redd." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap04"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER IV +</H3> + +<P> +There was a long silence, broken at last by Mary saying, "Perhaps what +some folk say of Moll is true,—that it is an evil gift she has. And +yet she has a sweet face and gentle manner." +</P> + +<P> +"I wonder if 't is truth, what they say of old Dimond, her father," +said Dorothy, her chin supported in one soft palm, while her eyes +looked off over the water, motionless almost as the seaweed growing on +the scarred rocks along the shore, left bare by the low tide. +</P> + +<P> +"What is that?" Mary asked. +</P> + +<P> +"Why, that whenever there was a dark, stormy night, with a gale +threatening the ships at sea, he would go up on Burial Hill, and beat +about amongst the grass, to save the crews from shipwreck." +</P> + +<P> +Mary laughed. "What an idea!" she exclaimed. "How could beating the +ground about the dead benefit or protect the living, who are surely in +the keeping of Him who makes the tempests?" +</P> + +<P> +"I don't know," was Dorothy's simple answer. "Only that is what I've +heard, ever since I was a child. And such talk always took my fancy." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, old Dimond doesn't look now as if he could have strength to beat +the ground, or anything else. Poor old man, he is very feeble, and I +should say 't is a happy thing for him that Moll can come down from +Lynn now and then, to attend him." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," Dorothy assented. Then, with a lively change of tone and +manner, "'T was odd, Mary, for her to say that when you left her door +you were to see your true-love riding to meet you on horseback." +</P> + +<P> +Mary started, and without answering, turned her head away, while the +blood rushed to her lovely face. +</P> + +<P> +"Which was he, sweetheart?" Dorothy persisted teasingly, bending her +head so as to bring her smiling face directly under the down-dropped +blue eyes, and then laughing outright at the confusion she saw there. +</P> + +<P> +"Which one was it?" she repeated. "You know Hugh Knollys rode down the +road directly toward you, and then—" +</P> + +<P> +But Mary's white hand was over the laughing lips and silenced them. +</P> + +<P> +"If your father should hear you talking in such fashion, Dot, I feel +sure he would be displeased with me for having gone with you to see +Moll." Mary made an effort to look and speak naturally, but her eyes +were very bright and her face was still deeply flushed. +</P> + +<P> +Dorothy smiled, and shook her curly head wilfully. "Not he," she said +with decision; "leastway, not for long. He is stern enough, at times, +to others; but he can never be severe with me." +</P> + +<P> +"Ah, Dot, but you are surely a spoiled child," said Mary, with a fond +glance at the winsome face. +</P> + +<P> +Dorothy shrugged her small shoulders. "So Aunt Penine is always +saying; but all the aunts in the world could never come 'twixt my +father and me." +</P> + +<P> +Little 'Bitha, who had been crooning softly to herself, and +improvising, after a fashion of her own,— +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +"The sea is blue, blue, blue,<BR> +The sea is blue, and I love the sea,"<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +suddenly cried out, "Oh, Dot, look, look! What an ugly fish!" +</P> + +<P> +They all looked, and saw a dead dogfish, its cruel teeth showing in the +gaping jaws, go bobbing by, entangled in a mesh of floating seaweed. +</P> + +<P> +"Him look like dead nigger," said Pashar, as he flung a pebble at it. +</P> + +<P> +Old Leet scowled over his shoulder at his lively descendant. +</P> + +<P> +"Dere'll be anudder, an' real true, dead nigger ter keep him company, +ef ye don't sit still, an' quit grampussin' 'bout de boat," he growled; +and. Pashar became very quiet. +</P> + +<P> +They were now drawing in nearer to the shore, where the strip of +sand-beach lay down below the rocky headland, upon the highest point of +which stood Spray House, the home of Nicholson Broughton and his +daughter Mary. +</P> + +<P> +The house—a low, rambling building, with gabled roof—was perched upon +the highest of a series of greenstone and syenite ledges, whose natural +jaggedness had no need to be strengthened by art to render them a safe +bulwark against the encroaching seas, when the storms flashed blinding +mists and glittering spray about the diamond-paned windows. +</P> + +<P> +These looked off over the open water, and past the point of land +intervening between Great Bay and Marblehead Rock. Upon the latter was +an odd beacon,—being a discarded pulpit from one of the Boston +churches, whence, after hearing much of the noise and commotion of men, +it had been transferred to this barren rock, there to listen to the +ceaseless tumult of the battling sea. +</P> + +<P> +Inland from Spray House stood the many great warehouses; and back of +these stretched the pasture-lands, breaking here and there into rough +hills, showing fields of golden splendor, where the wood-wax, or +"dyer's weed," was growing in luxuriant wildness. +</P> + +<P> +Several small boats were drawn up on the beach; and anchored a little +way out, and directly opposite the front windows of Spray House, were +two goodly-sized schooners, and a brig, their topmasts now touched by +the fiery gold of sunset. +</P> + +<P> +"I wish you were coming home with me, Mary," said Dorothy, as Leet ran +the boat's nose into the shingle, and Pashar leaped out to hold the +stern. +</P> + +<P> +"I wish so, too. But you know it will not be many days before father +goes up to Boston, and he said I should abide with you until he +returned." +</P> + +<P> +"That will be fine," said Dorothy, her face aglow with pleasure, as +Mary, after dropping a light kiss upon her check, arose to leave the +boat. "Only, if I were you, I should coax him to let me go to Boston." +</P> + +<P> +"I did ask him; but he goes on public matters, he said, and was like to +have a quick and a rough trip." Mary was now standing upon the beach. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, be he gone a long or a short time, we shall all be very happy to +have you with us. That you know, surely." And Dorothy kissed her hand +to her friend, as Leet pulled out again into the water and rowed toward +the upper end of the bay, while Mary took her way across the beach to +the thread-like path leading up to the plateau that formed the back +dooryard of Spray House. +</P> + +<P> +In the yard was Joe, the darkey serving-man, busy cutting more wood to +increase the already generous pile stored in the building near by, +while Agnes, his niece, was in the kitchen, preparing the evening meal. +</P> + +<P> +In the long, low, oak-panelled "living-room" of the house, its windows +facing the water, Mary found her father. He was standing—a tall, +finely built man, nearly fifty—gazing through an open window. His +sturdy legs were well apart, as with hands in his trousers' pockets he +was jingling his keys and loose coin in a restless sort of way, while +he hummed to himself. +</P> + +<P> +Mary entered so softly, or else his thoughts were so absorbing, that he +did not notice her until she stood close beside him and slipped a hand +within his arm. Then he started, and the scowl left his brow as he +turned the frank, blue-gray eyes, so like her own, down upon her +upturned, smiling face. +</P> + +<P> +"Ha, Pigsney!" he exclaimed, now smiling himself. "And have you had a +pleasant water-trip?" He looked at her lovingly, while he caressed the +blonde head that just reached to his broad shoulder. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," she replied hurriedly. "And I met Johnnie Strings, who has but +just come from over Salem way. He says there are quantities of +soldiers there, and that they are like to come this way and spread all +over the town." +</P> + +<P> +"You speak of them, sweetheart, as if they might be another epidemic of +smallpox," he said grimly, "And so they are, so they are, if not indeed +something worse." And the scowl came back to his face as he looked off +over the water at his brig and schooners. +</P> + +<P> +"But what does it all mean, father?" Mary asked anxiously. "Think you +they will meet with opposition should they actually come down here? +Oh, it would be dreadful to have any fighting right here in our streets +and before our very doors." The girl trembled, and her cheeks paled. +</P> + +<P> +"Nay, nay, lass," and he patted her shoulder reassuringly; "cross no +bridges until you come to them." Then he added rather impatiently, +"What does Johnnie Strings mean by telling such tales to affright +women-folk?" +</P> + +<P> +"We—Dorothy Devereux and I—met him, and we made him talk. But he did +not seem to want to tell us all he knew about it." +</P> + +<P> +"And quite right," said her father, smiling again. "Lord pity the man +who is fool enough to tell women—and girls, at that—all he knows of +such matters, in days like these." +</P> + +<P> +Mary looked up at him a little reproachfully, but he only bent and +kissed her, as he said, now quite gravely: "I've much on my mind this +night, my child, and I have to ask if you can be ready soon after +supper to drive with me to the house of neighbor Devereux, and to stop +there a few days with Dorothy. I have certain matters to talk over +with him, and will pass the night there; and before daylight I must be +on my way to Boston." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap05"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER V +</H3> + +<P> +On Riverhead Beach, at the extreme southwest end, the Devereux family +kept sundry boats, for greater convenience in reaching the town proper, +without going around the Neck, by the open seaway; and some distance +from the boat-house was their home, the way being along the shore and +across the thriftily planted acres and through the woodland. +</P> + +<P> +The same low stone house it was that had withstood the pirates' raid +over one hundred years before. But the forests were now gone, although +a noble wood still partially environed it. And beyond this were +sloping hills and grassy meadows, through which ran a stream of pure, +sweet water, wandering on through the dusk of the woods until it found +the sea. +</P> + +<P> +Here fed the flocks and herds of Joseph Devereux, the grandson of John +and Anne. +</P> + +<P> +There had been some additions to the original building, but these were +low and rambling, like the older portion. And before it, broader of +expanse and to the vision than in the early days, stretched the sea, a +far-reaching floor of glass or foam, to melt away in the pearly dimness +of the horizon. +</P> + +<P> +The hush of lingering twilight was over the place, and now and then the +note of a thrush or robin thrilled sweet on the golden-tissued air. +But from the vine-draped door of the low stone dairy came sounds less +inviting, uttered by Aunt Penine, the widowed sister-in-law and +housekeeper of Joseph Devereux, as she goaded her maids at their +evening work. +</P> + +<P> +In sharp contrast with her, both as to person and manner, was her +invalid sister Lettice, who was sitting on the porch before the open +door, with little 'Bitha, her orphaned grandchild, hanging lovingly +about her. +</P> + +<P> +Opposite these sat Joseph Devereux, smoking his evening pipe; and +crouched on the stone step, her curly head resting against his knee, +was Dorothy, now gentle and subdued. +</P> + +<P> +There was an irresistible charm about the girl's wilfulness that +blended perfectly with the sacred innocence of her childish nature. +She was impetuous, laughter-loving, and somewhat spoiled; but she was +possessed of a high spirit, strong courage, and a pure, tender heart. +</P> + +<P> +Her father's idol and chief companion she had always been since, in his +sixtieth-odd year, she was laid in his strong arms,—vigorous as those +of a man half his own age. And he was looking into her baby face, so +like his own, when he heard that she was all he had left of his +faithful wife. +</P> + +<P> +He had lost many children; and such sorrow, softening still more a +never hard heart, had made him dotingly fond of those left to him,—his +twenty-seven-year-old son John and the wilful Dot. +</P> + +<P> +The girl's education had been beyond that of most maids in those times, +as had also that of her only friend, Mary Broughton; and for much the +same reason. Both girls had been carefully trained by their fathers; +and Aunt Penine, at Nicholson Broughton's request, had taught Mary +housewifery in all its branches, at the same time she was undertaking +the like portion of her niece's education. +</P> + +<P> +But this was an art in which Mary far exceeded Dot; and Aunt Penine +lectured her niece unceasingly, while seeming to find nothing but +praise for Mary's efforts. +</P> + +<P> +It was pretty sure to be something of this sort: "Dorothy, Dorothy! +Ye'll ne'er be a good butter-maker; ye beat it so, the grain will be +broke. Why cannot ye take it this way?" and Aunt Penine would show +her. "See how fine Mary does it! Ye have too hot a hand." +</P> + +<P> +Dot would give her head a toss, and remind her aunt that it was not she +herself who had the fashioning of her small hand, nor the regulating of +its temperature. And then Aunt Penine would be very sure to go to her +brother-in-law with complainings of his daughter's disrespectful +tongue, and it would end in Dot being persuaded by her father to beg +Aunt Penine's pardon, which she would do in a meek tone, but with a +suspicious sparkle in her eyes. And after that she was very likely to +be found at the stables, saddling her own mare, Brown Bess, for a wild +gallop off over the country. +</P> + +<P> +Aunt Penine was one who never seemed to remember that she had ever been +young herself; and this made her all the more unbending in her +disapproval of Dorothy's flow of spirits, and of the indulgence shown +her by her father. +</P> + +<P> +She was now coming across the grass from the dairy,—a tall, lithe +figure, from which all the roundness of youth (had she ever possessed +anything so weak) had given way to the spareness of middle age. Her +hair, still plentiful, was of a dull, lustreless black; her complexion +sallow, with paler cheeks, somewhat fallen in; and she had a pair of +small gray eyes that seemed like twinkling lights set either side a +very long, sharp nose. +</P> + +<P> +Her gown was now pinned up around her like that of a fishwife; a white +cap surmounted her severe head, and her brown arms were bare above the +elbows, where she had rolled her sleeves. She well knew that her +brother-in-law in no wise approved of her going about in such a +fashion; but this was only an added reason for her doing so. +</P> + +<P> +There was a silken rustling of doves' wings, as the flock scattered +from in front of her on the grass, where, obedient to Dorothy's call, +they had come like a cloud from the dove-cote perched high on a pole +near by. +</P> + +<P> +"Joseph," she cried, sending her shrill voice ahead of her as she +walked along, "do you know that the last two new Devonshires have +either strayed or been stolen?" +</P> + +<P> +"So Trent told me." He spoke very calmly, letting several seconds +intervene between question and answer, puffing his pipe meanwhile, +while the fingers of one hand rested amongst the curly, fragrant locks +lying against his knee. +</P> + +<P> +"Told you! Then why, under the canopy, did n't ye tell <I>me</I>?" she +demanded, as she now stood on the stone flagging in front of the +veranda, her arms akimbo, while she peered at him with her little +twinkling eyes. +</P> + +<P> +He looked at her gravely, and as if thinking, but made no reply. +</P> + +<P> +Her eyes fell, and she seemed embarrassed, for she said in a lower +tone, and by way of explanation: "Because, you see, Joseph, I cannot +look after the pans o' milk properly, if I know not how many cows there +be to draw from. There was less milk by twenty pans, this e'en; and I +was suspecting the new maid we've taken from over Oakum Bay way of +making off with it for her own folk, when Pashar came in and said he +was to go with Trent, to hunt for the missing Devonshires. And that +was the first I'd heard of any strayed cattle." +</P> + +<P> +"And even had they not been missing, Penine, you had no right to think +such evil o' the stranger," Joseph Devereux said reprovingly. "'T is a +queer fashion, it seems to me, for a Christian woman to be so ready as +you ever seem to be for thinking harsh things o' folk you may happen +not to know well. Strangers are no more like to do evil than friends, +say I." +</P> + +<P> +He now handed his pipe to Dot, who rapped the ashes out on the ground +and returned it to him. He thanked the girl with the same courtesy he +would have shown an utter stranger, while Aunt Penine, looking very +much subdued, turned about and went back to the dairy. +</P> + +<P> +Joseph Devereux was still a handsome man, with a dark, intellectual +face, framed in a halo of silvery hair, worn long, as was the fashion, +and confined by a black ribbon. About his throat was wrapped snowy +linen lawn, fine as a cobweb, and woven on his own hand-looms by the +women of his house, as was also that of the much ruffled shirt showing +from the front of a buff waistcoat, gold-buttoned. +</P> + +<P> +The same color was repeated in his top-boots, that came up to meet the +breeches of dark cloth, fastened at the knee with steel buckles. +</P> + +<P> +His tall figure was but slightly bowed; and there was a mixture of +haughtiness and softness in his manner, very far removed from +provincial brusqueness, and belonging rather to the days and +surrounding of his ancestors than to the time in which he lived. +</P> + +<P> +John, his son, was a more youthful picture of the father, but with a +freer display of temper,—this due, perhaps, to his fewer years. But +father and son were known alike for kindly and generous deeds, and as +possessing a high ideal of truth and justice. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap06"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER VI +</H3> + +<P> +"Do you suppose, Joseph, that Jack will have had his supper?" +</P> + +<P> +Aunt Lettice asked the question a little anxiously, as she drew about +her shoulders the soft shawl that little 'Bitha's impetuous clasping +had somewhat disarranged. +</P> + +<P> +"Aye; I think the lad is sure to have taken it at the inn." His voice +was very gentle, as it always was when he addressed her. +</P> + +<P> +"There he is!" shouted 'Bitha. And she darted down the steps to wave +frantic arms at two horsemen coming up the wooded way to the house, +while Dot lifted her head from her father's knee, as he now sat more +erect in his chair. +</P> + +<P> +"Have a care, 'Bitha, or we may run you down," called out John +Devereux, laughingly. And at this the little maiden made haste to +speed back to the porch. +</P> + +<P> +It was Hugh Knollys who accompanied him,—a stalwart, broad-chested +young fellow of twenty-five or six, with blunt features and a not +over-handsome face. But for all this he had an irresistible magnetism +for those who knew him; and no one could ever associate evil or untruth +with his frank, keen-glancing gray eyes and clean-cut, smiling lips. +</P> + +<P> +"Good-evening, Hugh, and welcome," said Joseph Devereux, rising to +extend a friendly hand as the young man came up the steps. +</P> + +<P> +Hugh removed his hat and nodded to Dorothy, glancing at her askance as +she arose and with a demure greeting passed him and went to her +brother, who was now giving some orders to old Leet. +</P> + +<P> +"Jack," she whispered imploringly, under cover of the talk going on in +the porch,—"Jack, tell me, please, that you will not speak to father +of Mary and me seeing Moll Pitcher this afternoon." +</P> + +<P> +He looked at her smilingly, and then took her chin in his fingers and +gave her head a gentle shake, in a way he had of doing. +</P> + +<P> +"If I do as you ask, will you promise not to go over to that part of +the town again without telling me first, and then not to go unless I +say you may?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, yes," she answered eagerly. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, then, 't is a bargain." With this he put an arm around her, and +they turned toward the house. +</P> + +<P> +"Did Mary go home?" he asked, as they walked slowly along. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes; but she is coming soon to stop with us, as her father is to go to +Boston on business of some sort." +</P> + +<P> +"He is like to go this very night," the young man said. +</P> + +<P> +"This very night!" Dorothy echoed. "Why, then, Mary might have come +home with me, as I wished. But how do you know that, Jack?" +</P> + +<P> +"Never mind now," was his evasive answer. "You will hear all about it +later." +</P> + +<P> +They were now at the porch, and his father, who had been conversing +earnestly with young Knollys, said: "Hugh tells me that ye both had +supper at the inn. So come within, Jack,—come, both o' ye, and let us +talk over certain matters of importance. Hugh will stop with us for +the night; and, Dot, do you go and tell your Aunt Penine, so that his +room may be prepared." And leading the way, the old gentleman went +inside, followed by his son and their guest. +</P> + +<P> +"Grandame," asked 'Bitha, as Dorothy arose and went in quest of Aunt +Penine, "what did Hugh Knollys mean by his talk to Uncle Joseph just +now, of the King's soldiers at Salem?" The child spoke in an awed +voice, drawing closer to the old lady, and looking up at her with +startled eyes. +</P> + +<P> +Aunt Lettice tried to give her delicate features a properly severe cast +as she answered, "Hush, 'Bitha! you should not listen to matters not +meant for your hearing." +</P> + +<P> +"But I've heard it before, grandame," 'Bitha persisted. "Johnnie +Strings said the same thing, this afternoon, to Dot and Mary Broughton. +He said the soldiers were coming all over here, clear to the shore, and +that we best have guns ready to shoot them." +</P> + +<P> +Aunt Lettice's expression had now become really severe, for she still +had the old-time reverence for King and Parliament dwelling in her +heart. +</P> + +<P> +"Johnnie Strings is seditious and rebellious, to speak so of His +Gracious Majesty's army," she said with marked disapproval; "and he +shall sell no more of his wares to me, if he goes about the country +talking in such fashion. But you must have mistaken his meaning, +child." +</P> + +<P> +But 'Bitha shook her small head wilfully, in a way to remind one of her +cousin Dorothy, and took herself off to the charms of the kitchen +regions, where old Tyntie was ever ready to listen to her prattle, and +tell her charming tales when work was out of the way. +</P> + +<P> +And this is how 'Bitha came to know that the bright green spots showing +here and there in the meadows were the rings made by the dancing feet +of the Star-sisters, when they came down in a great ball of light from +their home in the sky, striking the ball about as they danced, and +causing it to give forth most ravishing music. +</P> + +<P> +And Tyntie told her, also, that the flitting will-o'-the-wisp lights +that showed on dark nights over the farthest away marsh-lands were the +wandering souls of Indian warriors, watching to keep little children +from getting lost or frightened; that the cry of the whippoorwill was +the lament of Munomene-Keesis, the Spirit of the Moon, over +dead-and-gone warriors vanquished by the white men; that the wild winds +coming from the sea were Pawatchecanawas, breathing threatenings for +bad men and their ships; and that the frogs hopping about in the cool +dusk were all little Iiche, with a magic jewel in their ugly heads. +</P> + +<P> +All this was imparted as they sat out on the great stumps of hewn-down +trees, while the twilight gathered and the stars came out in the vault +overhead, and the two were at a safe distance from Aunt Penine's +practical bustling and sharp tongue. +</P> + +<P> +For Aunt Penine ruled the household with a veritable "rod of iron;" and +her courtly and calm-voiced brother-in-law was the only mortal to whom +she had ever been known to show deference of manner or speech. +</P> + +<P> +She had gone within, and the maids with her. The dairy was closed for +the night, and Dorothy had returned to the porch, where she was now +seated in her father's favorite chair. +</P> + +<P> +"Aunt Lettice," she said presently, "what think you all these queer +things mean? Mary Broughton said we might have a war; and there seems +a great lot for the men folk to be having meetings over, and secret +talk about." +</P> + +<P> +"I know no more than you, Dorothy, but I wish it was all over, and that +I might have my tea once more; I miss it sadly." +</P> + +<P> +"Why," exclaimed Dorothy, looking greatly surprised, "there is tea in +the house, Aunt Lettice! I thought it was not made for you because you +did not care for it." +</P> + +<P> +"Indeed I do care for it very much," said the little old lady; and she +sighed wistfully. "But Penine said there was to be no more tea, as +your father had forbidden it." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, some one is drinking it," Dorothy asserted with positiveness, +"for I found a small potful of tea in the store-closet this very +morning." +</P> + +<P> +"Are you sure, my dear?" Aunt Lettice asked wonderingly. +</P> + +<P> +"Of course I am sure, for I smelled it; and as I detest the odor, I +looked to see what it came from. And I know as well that there is a +big canful of tea there, for I caught the lace of my sleeve on the lid +last Sabbath day, as I reached to get the sugar to put on 'Bitha's +bread. Aunt Penine must know it is there." +</P> + +<P> +"Penine is very fond of her tea." Aunt Lettice sighed again, and this +time rather suggestively. +</P> + +<P> +"Well," said Dorothy, her fiery spirit all aglow, "if she be such a pig +as to make it for herself when she lets you have none, I shall find +out, and tell my father of her doings." +</P> + +<P> +"My dear, my dear, you should not speak so," the gentle old lady +protested, but with only feeble remonstrance. It was evident that +Dorothy's words had put the matter in a new light. +</P> + +<P> +"Now, Aunt Lettice," continued Dorothy, as she straightened her small +figure in the chair, "you know that Aunt Penine often treats you with +hard-hearted selfishness, and then next minute she will be reading her +good books and trying to look pious. I never want to be her sort of +good,—never! And while I live, she shall not treat you so any more. +I shall tell father to ask her about the tea, I warrant you." +</P> + +<P> +Before Aunt Lettice could reply to this impetuous speech, a coach drove +up, its lamps showing like glow-worms in the gathering dusk. In it +were Nicholson Broughton and Mary; and Dorothy rushed down the steps to +welcome her friend as though they had been parted for weeks. +</P> + +<P> +While the new-comers were alighting, Leet came up to show the coachman +the way to the stables; and then the two girls went directly to the +porch, while Broughton himself tarried to give some low-spoken orders +to his servant. +</P> + +<P> +The sound of the carriage wheels had brought John Devereux quickly to +the porch, while his father and Hugh Knollys followed after, the +younger man walking slowly, in deference to the slight lameness of his +host. +</P> + +<P> +"Ah, neighbor Broughton, you are just the man we were wishing for. +Heartily welcome!" And Joseph Devereux clasped the other man's hand, +while John turned away with his sister and Mary Broughton. +</P> + +<P> +They were joined a moment later by Hugh Knollys; and John Devereux, as +though suspecting a possible rival, watched keenly his blunt, honest +face as he took the small hand Mary extended. But there was naught in +Hugh's look to alarm him, nor in the quiet greeting Mary gave his +friend. +</P> + +<P> +Dorothy now drew his attention. "Jack," she asked earnestly, "did you +warn Hugh not to speak aught of this afternoon?" But Hugh answered her +question by a slight laugh, accompanied by a comprehending nod. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, Dot," said Mary, with gentle reproach, "you should not deceive +your father in this way." +</P> + +<P> +Dorothy raised her head as though she had been struck, and drew herself +up to the full limit of her small stature. +</P> + +<P> +"Indeed, Mary, I intend to do no such thing," she replied almost +aggressively. "'T is only that I wish to tell him all about it myself, +and in my own fashion." +</P> + +<P> +Here her father's voice broke in. "Come, John,—come, Hugh,—come +inside, with neighbor Broughton and me. We will get our matters +settled as soon as may be, while the girls visit with Aunt Lettice. +But ye must all come within; 't is getting much too damp and cold to +stop longer out o' the house." +</P> + +<P> +He drove them in before him and closed the door, shutting out the roar +of the surf along the shore, as it mingled with the shrilling of the +dry-voiced insects in the grasses and woods. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap07"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER VII +</H3> + +<P> +It was the dining-room of the house wherein the four men sat in earnest +consultation; and now that they were alone, their faces were grave to +solemnity. +</P> + +<P> +The oak-ceiled and wainscoted room was filled with lurking shadows in +the far corners, where the light from the candles did not penetrate; +and the inside shutters of stout oak were closed and bolted over the +one great window, along which ran a deep cushioned seat. +</P> + +<P> +Joseph Devereux sat by the mahogany table, whose black polish reflected +the lights, mirror-like, and—but more dully—the yellow brass of the +candlesticks. His elbow was resting upon the smooth wood, his hand +supporting his head; and in the light of the candle burning near, his +face looked unusually stern. +</P> + +<P> +His son sat opposite, his face mostly in shadow, as he lay back in his +chair and thrummed the table with his slender brown fingers. +</P> + +<P> +At either side sat Nicholson Broughton and Hugh Knollys, the former +looking stern and troubled as he smoked his long pipe, while the +younger man's face held but little of its usual light-hearted +expression. His hands were thrust deep in his breeches' pockets, and +he whistled softly now and then in an absent-minded way. +</P> + +<P> +"Aye, 't is a grave state of affairs, Broughton," Joseph Devereux was +saying. "I love not oppression, nor tyrannical dealing. And yet, +think you that ever was a petty tyrant overthrown, and the instruments +of his punishment could always escape a pricking o' the conscience, +that made it not easy for them to look back upon their own share in his +downfall? Shall the time come, I wonder, when we must question the +truth o' this inspiration we are now acting under as a town and as a +country?" +</P> + +<P> +"Nay, say I,—never!" exclaimed Broughton, with fiery ardor. "Being +human, we must all feel sympathy for suffering, be it in enemy or +friend. But our land is lost, and we nothing better than slaves, did +we longer submit to the tyranny of the mother country. As God bade +Moses of old lead the children of Israel from the bondage and cruel +injustice of Pharaoh, so we should feel that He now bids us, as men +with a country, and as fathers with families to cherish and protect, to +rise up and assert our manhood, and to assure our freedom, even though +it be by as fierce a war as ever was waged." +</P> + +<P> +"And war there's bound to be!" It was Hugh Knollys who said this, and +he seemed to look more cheery at the thought. +</P> + +<P> +Joseph Devereux glanced at him sharply, and then turned to his son. +</P> + +<P> +"You say, Jack," he asked, "that Strings said the Governor was to order +a body o' soldiers down to the Neck?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, sir—and that right away." +</P> + +<P> +At this, Nicholson Broughton spoke up, looking at his host. +</P> + +<P> +"As I was saying to you awhile back, neighbor Devereux, the committee +ordered to Boston, to decide upon delegates, must get a start from town +before the redcoats get into quarters upon the Neck, or there may be +trouble which it were as well to avoid. This was decided upon when we +met at the Fountain Inn, this afternoon; and 't was agreed that all who +go from here should take the road to Boston before to-morrow's dawn. +John and Hugh, here, reckon on going along with us, to meet Brattle in +Boston, for he has sent word that he is to sail the day after to-morrow +with a shipload of supplies ordered down by the Governor for the +soldiery at Salem. This will be a fine opportunity for smuggling down +the firearms and powder which have been hid so long in Boston, waiting +the chance for safe conveyance here." +</P> + +<P> +Before Joseph Devereux could speak, his son broke in eagerly: "Hugh and +I will come down with Brattle, and we'll lie off at anchor, as near our +own shore as may be. Some one must be ready to give us the signal from +the land; and if all is safe, we can put the guns and powder ashore and +hide them. This will be the safest plan, for about Great Bay the +soldiers will be on the lookout for anything unwonted; and in Little +Harbor it will be as bad, for they will have their eyes wide open to +keep a sharp watch upon the Fountain Inn, and all about it—be it on +land or water." +</P> + +<P> +"You say truly, Jack," his father assented, "But whom can we trust to +give the signal? Ah," with a sigh, "if only I had back a few of my own +lost years, or was not so lame!" +</P> + +<P> +"Brains can serve one's land, friend Devereux, as well, oftentimes +better, than arms," said Broughton, looking at his host's massive head +and intelligent features. "We all have our appointed work to do, and +no man is more capable than you of doing his share." +</P> + +<P> +"I pray it maybe so," was the reply. "But, be it much or little, all I +have and am are at the service of our cause." +</P> + +<P> +"Why not let Dorothy be the one to give the signal?" asked Hugh +Knollys, as from a sudden inspiration. +</P> + +<P> +"Just the one," said John Devereux, looking over at his father. "She +fears nothing, and can be relied upon in such a matter." +</P> + +<P> +The old gentleman seemed a bit reluctant, and sat silent for a few +moments. Then speaking to his son, he said: "Call the child in. This +is no time to hold back one's hand from the doing of aught that be +needful to help the cause of our land." +</P> + +<P> +It was not many minutes before Dorothy came into the room behind her +brother; and her eyes opened wider than ever as their quick glance took +in the solemn conclave about the table. +</P> + +<P> +Her father stretched out an inviting hand. "Come here, Dot," he said +smilingly. "Do not look so frightened, my baby." And he patted her +small hand in a loving way as he drew her close beside him. +</P> + +<P> +"No," added Hugh mischievously, his face having now regained its usual +jollity, "we are not going to eat you, Dorothy." +</P> + +<P> +She deigned him no reply, not even a glance, but stood silently beside +her father, while she looked questioningly into her brother's face. +</P> + +<P> +He explained in a few words the matter in hand; and the flash of her +eyes, together with the smile that touched the upturned corners of her +mouth, told how greatly to her liking was the duty to which she had +been assigned. +</P> + +<P> +Jack had scarce finished speaking, when there was an interruption, in +the person of Aunt Penine, who entered bearing a tray, upon which were +tumblers and a bowl of steaming punch. +</P> + +<P> +She shot a glance of marked disapproval at Dorothy; then, as she placed +the tray upon the table in front of her brother-in-law, she said in a +tone of acidity, "Were it not better, think you, Joseph, that the girl +went into the other room and stopped with Lettice and Mary Broughton?" +</P> + +<P> +Dorothy turned her eyes defiantly upon the elder woman, her soft brows +suggesting the frown that came to her father's face as he said with +grave severity: "The child is here, Penine, because I sent for her. +Let the punch be as it is—and leave us, please." +</P> + +<P> +She tossed her head belligerently, and without speaking took her +departure, casting a far from friendly look at the others. +</P> + +<P> +"I strongly suspect, father," said John, as he rose and crossed the +room to close the door his aunt, either by accident or intent, had left +ajar, "that we'd best have a care how we let Aunt Penine hear aught of +our affairs. Her sympathies are very sure to be with the other side, +if the struggle comes to blows." +</P> + +<P> +"I will see to Penine," his father answered quietly. "Do you go on +instructing Dot as to what she is to do." +</P> + +<P> +His son bowed, and turned once more to the girl. +</P> + +<P> +"And so, Dot, as I've said already, you must reckon surely upon the +vessel lying off the beach in a straight line with the Sachem's Cave, +on Friday night, at about eleven o'clock. And this being Monday, will +give four days, which will be time enough to allow for all that's to be +done. But you must watch, child, even if it prove later in the night, +or even in the morning, before we arrive. And when you see a light +showing, then disappearing, then two lights, and then three, you must +answer from the shore if all be well, and 't is safe to land, by +showing two lights, and then letting them burn for us to steer by. +Mount as high as you can to the uppermost level above the cave, so that +we may get a good view of your signal. Can you keep all this in that +small head of yours?" And he smiled at her, as though some happy +outing were being planned. +</P> + +<P> +She nodded quickly, but with a grave face; then, after a moment's +hesitation, she asked, "May I tell Mary?" +</P> + +<P> +Her brother's eyes dropped, as Hugh Knollys flashed a laughing glance +upon him. But her father replied at once: "Aye, it were best to do so. +And if neighbor Broughton has no objections, it were more prudent that +she should be your companion." +</P> + +<P> +"Not I!" responded Broughton heartily, raising to his lips the glass of +punch his host had been dispensing from the bowl in front of him. "But +be over-careful, Dorothy, as to who may be about to overhear what you +say to her. And"—his voice growing very grave—"may God keep you +both, for two brave, right-hearted girls." +</P> + +<P> +"Amen!" said Joseph Devereux. And he lifted his glass to the others, +as though pledging them and the great cause they all had so devoutly at +heart. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap08"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER VIII +</H3> + +<P> +When Dorothy left the dining-room, it was by a door opposite that by +which Aunt Penine had made her angry exit,—one leading to the +storerooms and kitchen. +</P> + +<P> +The one through which Dorothy went opened directly upon a small +platform, whose flight of three steps descended into the main hall, +which was part of the original building, and was now lighted dimly by a +ship's lantern swinging from the low dark-wood ceiling, or +"planchement." +</P> + +<P> +A pair of handsome antlers were fixed against the wall about midway +down the passage, and underneath these was a long mahogany table, piled +with a miscellaneous collection of whips, hats, and riding-gloves. +</P> + +<P> +Directly opposite hung the family arms, placed there more than a +hundred years before by the hands of John Devereux, the "Emigrant," as +he was called. They were: Arg., a fesse, gu., in chief three torteaux. +Crest;—out of a ducal coronet, or, a talbots head, arg., eared, gu. +And the motto was "Basis Virtutum Constantia." +</P> + +<P> +Other than this the long, wide hall was bare of furnishing. +</P> + +<P> +Dorothy came out with her usual impetuous rush, and closing the door +quickly behind her, was startled by seeing a form rise, as it seemed, +from the platform, and then, as if retreating hastily, stumble and fall +down the steps. +</P> + +<P> +The girl looked with astonishment, and saw Aunt Penine prostrate upon +the floor of the hall, her upturned face pale and distorted, as with +pain. +</P> + +<P> +It was quite evident that she had been eavesdropping; and Dorothy +remained at the head of the steps regarding her scornfully for a +moment, before asking if she were hurt. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, I have done somewhat to my ankle, drat it!" gasped the sufferer, +but in a low voice, as if fearful of attracting the attention of those +on the other side of the door. +</P> + +<P> +"Shall I call Jack?" Dorothy inquired, a faint smile of sarcasm +touching her lips; and she made a movement as though to reopen the door. +</P> + +<P> +"No, no,—oh no!" exclaimed Aunt Penine in great alarm, as she +endeavored to regain her feet. +</P> + +<P> +This she at length succeeded in doing, and stood with one hand against +the wall, while she groaned, but in a suppressed way. +</P> + +<P> +Just then Mary Broughton came from a room farther down the hall, where +she had been delighting Aunt Lettice with soft melodies drawn from the +spinet, upon which both she and Dorothy were skilful performers. +</P> + +<P> +"What is it—is anything amiss?" she asked quickly, coming up to Aunt +Penine, and laying a hand on her trembling shoulder. +</P> + +<P> +But Aunt Penine only continued to groan dismally, while her niece, with +a laugh she did not try to hide, now came down the steps. +</P> + +<P> +"Aunt Penine was evidently anxious to be of my father's council," she +said to Mary; "and I chanced to open the door too quickly for her, so +that she slipped down the steps and has twisted her ankle." +</P> + +<P> +Her aunt straightened herself and glanced angrily at the girl, who only +laughed again, while Mary Broughton stood regarding her with a puzzled +look. +</P> + +<P> +"Shall I help you to your room, Aunt Penine?" Dorothy asked with +elaborate politeness, holding out her arm. +</P> + +<P> +"No," snapped her aunt. "I wish no assistance from you, whose sharp +tongue seems ever ready with insult for your elders. Mary will help +me; and ye may find Tyntie, and send her to my room." With this she +hobbled away, leaning heavily upon Mary, who looked back reproachfully +at Dorothy. +</P> + +<P> +But Dot only laughed again, as she turned and went to a door at the end +of the hall which communicated with a side passage leading to the +servants' quarters; then, having summoned Tyntie, she came back and +seated herself upon a lower step of the main staircase to await Mary's +coming. +</P> + +<P> +Her friend's first words were full of reproof. "Oh, Dot, how could you +seem so heartless?" she said. "You should see Aunt Penine's foot; 't +is swollen fearfully, and her ankle is discolored." +</P> + +<P> +"If you but knew how it came about, Mary, perhaps you'd be less ready +to scold me," Dorothy replied, making room on the step. "There are +weighty matters being talked of in the dining-room yonder, and I was to +tell you what Jack took me in for. Aunt Penine came in with the punch +while I was there, and she tried to have me sent away. She was angry +that father would not do this, but bade her mind her business and let +me alone. When I opened the door just now, she was trying to listen to +what they were saying, and I came out so suddenly as to frighten her, +so that she stumbled and hurt herself. I am sorry she is hurt; but if +it had befallen me, she'd have been ready enough to say I'd but +received my just deserts." +</P> + +<P> +"Why should she try to listen at the door?" asked Mary with surprise, +as she twisted one of Dorothy's short curls about her slender fingers. +But Dorothy gave her head an unruly toss, to release the curl, as she +had ever a dislike for being fondled or touched in any way, unless it +were by her father or brother. +</P> + +<P> +"There is really to be a war, and that soon," she replied. "The +soldiers, they say, are coming down to the Neck in a few days—perhaps +even to-morrow; and the people propose—and rightly, too—to fight +them, if needs be, should they try to interfere with our doings. Aunt +Penine sides with the English, I take it from what I've heard her say; +and I know for a surety she has been slyly making tea to drink, for all +that father has forbidden it. He and Aunt Lettice miss their tea as +much as ever she does herself, and yet they have never touched a drop. +I intend to tell him to-morrow that I know of a canful of tea in the +store-closet. I was talking with Aunt Lettice about it when you came +this evening. She supposed there was not a grain of it in the house, +and I am sure father has been thinking the same. Aunt Penine is +deceitful and disloyal to him—and so I shall tell him, if I live, +to-morrow morning." +</P> + +<P> +"Whatever did she expect to hear, that she did so mean and dishonorable +a thing as to listen at the keyhole?" Mary spoke musingly, a fine +scorn now touching her lips, and it was clear that her sympathy for the +afflicted one was greatly dampened. +</P> + +<P> +"Perhaps she intends to play spy, as she disapproves so entirely of the +feeling the townsfolk all have. Spies are well paid, so I've heard; +and Aunt Penine would do anything for money." Dorothy's eyes flashed, +and she stared straight ahead, pulling at her front locks in an +absent-minded way, as though she were speculating over all the mischief +her aunt might have in view. +</P> + +<P> +"She may mean nothing, after all, Dot," Mary said, after a moment's +thought. "It may be that she was only curious to know why you were +admitted to the room, while she and all the rest of us were kept out. +Still, if I were you, I'd tell my father of her listening." +</P> + +<P> +"Indeed I shall," was the emphatic reply, "and of the tea as well. I +have a notion she got it all from Robert Jameson. You know what they +tell of him; and he and Aunt Penine seem to have a deal to say to one +another these days. She has sent Pashar to him with notes ever so many +times, as I know; and Pashar seems to have more silver nowadays than +father gives him, for he has, more than once, brought 'Bitha sweets +from the store." +</P> + +<P> +Mary nodded significantly at the mention of Robert Jameson's name. He +was the nearest neighbor of Joseph Devereux, and had come to be +regarded with distrust—enmity, indeed—by most of his former +associates. +</P> + +<P> +He was a widower of some wealth, and had no family; and Aunt Penine had +long been suspected of cherishing a desire to entrap him into a second +matrimony. +</P> + +<P> +A few months before, an exceedingly complimentary, almost fulsome, +address to Hutchinson, the recent Governor, had appeared in the columns +of a newspaper known as the "Essex Gazette," to which were attached the +names of some residents of the town, Jameson's amongst them. It +endorsed all that had been said in praise of his administration, and of +his aiming only at the public good; and it asserted that such was the +opinion of all thinking and dispassionate citizens. +</P> + +<P> +This manifest untruth had raised a storm of indignation. A town +meeting was held, and a committee appointed, with instructions to +inform the signers of this false and malicious statement that they +would be exonerated only by making a public retraction of all +sentiments contained therein; and that upon refusing to do this, they +would be denounced as enemies of the province, desiring to insult both +branches of the legislature, and to affront the town. +</P> + +<P> +Jameson had been one of the few who refused to comply with the +committee's demand; and he had since been shunned as an enemy to the +cause, and looked upon with suspicion and distrust. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap09"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER IX +</H3> + +<P> +The household was astir early the next morning to set the travellers on +their road with a warm meal and a parting word; and despite the absence +of Aunt Penine, all the domestic machinery moved as smoothly as usual. +</P> + +<P> +There could still be seen a few stars, not yet blotted out by the +pearly haze, shot with palest blue, that the dawn was putting in front +of them. +</P> + +<P> +Over the sea hung a curtain-like gathering of fog, and the air was +heavy with the odors from the wood and fern, brought forth by the damp. +</P> + +<P> +Nicholson Broughton, having borrowed a saddle from his host, had +decided to pursue the remainder of his journey on horseback; and he, +with his two younger companions, was now about to set forth. +</P> + +<P> +Mary stood near her father's horse, while he gave her some parting +words of encouragement. +</P> + +<P> +"Now bear in mind, Pigsney, all I have said, and never fail to keep a +watchful eye and stout heart. All at the house will go well until my +return; and do you abide here, safe and close, with our good friends. +Be sure to keep away from the town, and whether the Britishers come to +the Neck or no, you will be safe." +</P> + +<P> +She promised all this, and turned away as he rode off, waving a +farewell to his host, who stood within the porch, with Aunt Lettice and +little 'Bitha alongside him. +</P> + +<P> +Hugh Knollys followed, with a gay good-by to all, while John Devereux, +who had been talking with Dorothy, now vaulted into his saddle. +</P> + +<P> +As he was about to start, Mary Broughton passed along in her slow walk +to the house. She turned, and their eyes met in a look that told of a +mutual understanding. But she flushed a little, while he only smiled, +doffing his hat as he rode slowly past her down the driveway. +</P> + +<P> +Dorothy was waiting, close to her father, on the porch. +</P> + +<P> +"Don't you wish you were a man, Mary," she said, as her friend came up +the steps, "so that you could ride away to do battle for our rights, +instead of being only a woman, to stop at home and wonder and worry +over matters, while the baking and churning must be done day after day?" +</P> + +<P> +Her father smiled at this, and pinched Dorothy's cheek; then a sadness +came to his face as he looked at her. +</P> + +<P> +"To be a woman does not always mean the doing of over-much baking or +housework," said Mary, with a meaning smile, her cheeks fresher and her +blue eyes brighter, like the flowers, from the pure morning air. +</P> + +<P> +Joseph Devereux nodded an assent. "If you and Mary," he said to +Dorothy, "were to ride to Boston this day, who would there be to do +what you are entrusted with the doing on? Mark ye, my daughter," and +he bent a grave look upon her bright face, "women, as well as men, have +high and holy duties to perform,—aye, indeed, some of them even +higher. Where would come the nerve and hope for the proper ambition o' +men's minds, were there no mothers and wives and—sweethearts, to make +their lives worth the living, and their homes worth fighting for,—yes, +and their country so much more worth saving from oppression. Nay, my +baby, what would become o' your old father, if he had not a little maid +to console him, when his only son must needs face risks and dangers?" +</P> + +<P> +Dorothy did not answer, but her face softened, and her arm stole up +about his neck. +</P> + +<P> +"Dot," said Mary, presently, "do not forget the matter we talked of +last evening,—that your father was to know." +</P> + +<P> +"And pray, what is that?" the old gentleman asked briskly. +</P> + +<P> +"Come into the library, father, with Mary and me, and we will tell +you." And slipping her hand around his arm, she started to lead him +in. Mary was about to follow, when he turned to her and held out his +other arm. With an answering smile she placed her hand within it, and +all three went inside. +</P> + +<P> +Aunt Lettice had gone off to her own apartments, taking 'Bitha for her +usual morning instructing, and so they were not likely to be disturbed. +</P> + +<P> +As soon as her father was seated, Dorothy, standing by the window, +burst forth with her accustomed vehemence. +</P> + +<P> +"I want to tell you, father," she exclaimed, "that I am sure Aunt +Penine is a loyalist!" +</P> + +<P> +"Chut, chut!" he replied reprovingly. But he smiled, used as he was to +the differences betwixt his daughter and her exacting relative. +</P> + +<P> +"I have good reason for what I say," Dorothy insisted; "and Mary can +tell you so, as well." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, child, first tell me all about it, and do not begin by misnaming +any one," her father said gently. +</P> + +<P> +She told him in a few rapid words,—first, what had happened the +evening before, and ending by a detailed account of finding the tea in +the store-closet. +</P> + +<P> +Her father was scowling ominously by the time the story was finished; +and he sat in silence for a few moments, his head bent, as though +considering what she had told him. Then he said: "I thank you, my +child, for what you have told me. I must speak with Penine o' these +matters, and that right away. Do you go, Dot, and tell her I wish to +talk with her, and must do so as soon as she can see me in her room." +</P> + +<P> +"Why not let Mary go?" Dorothy suggested. "Aunt Penine likes Mary, and +she does not like me—nor I her." And she looked quite belligerent. +</P> + +<P> +"I will be glad to go, if you say so," Mary offered, rising from her +chair. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, well," he said, "it matters little to me who goes; only I must +see her at once. And thank you, Mary, child, if you will kindly tell +her so." +</P> + +<P> +As soon as Mary left the room, Dorothy came over to her father's chair +and perched herself upon one of its oaken arms. +</P> + +<P> +"And now there is another thing I wish to tell you," she said, "and I'd +best do it now." +</P> + +<P> +He put an arm about her and smiled up into her troubled face. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, well," he said playfully, while he smoothed her curls, "what a +wise little head it has grown to be all on a sudden! We shall be +hearing soon that Mistress Dorothy Devereux has been invited by the +great men o' the town—Lee and Orne and Gerry, and the rest o' them—to +be present at their next meeting, and instruct them on matters they wot +not on, despite their age and wisdom." +</P> + +<P> +She would not smile at his badinage, but went on soberly to warn him of +what she suspected between her Aunt Penine and their ostracized +neighbor, Jameson,—telling him also of the unusual amount of coin +being spent by the boy, Pashar, whom she had seen carrying notes for +her aunt. +</P> + +<P> +The smile left her father's face as he listened to this, and he shook +his head gravely. And when she finished, he said, as though to +himself, "'T is the enemies in one's own household that are ever the +most dangerous." Then rising, he added, "Come with me, Dot, while I +speak first to Tyntie." +</P> + +<P> +The old Indian woman had been devoted to the interests of the family +since forty years before, when Joseph Devereux found her—a beaten, +half-starved child of ten—living with her drunken father in a wretched +hut on the outskirts of the town, and brought her to his own house for +his wife to rear and instruct. And because of her idolatrous love for +her benefactor and his family, she had endured patiently the exacting +tyranny of Aunt Penine, whom she detested. +</P> + +<P> +Her tall, spare figure was now moving about her domain with a curious +dignity inseparable from her Indian birth; but she paused in what she +was doing the moment her master and his daughter appeared at the door, +and remained facing them in respectful silence. +</P> + +<P> +She was alone, the men having gone off to their duties about the farm, +and the maids to the dairy, or to the housework above stairs. +</P> + +<P> +"I desire to ask you, Tyntie," her master began, addressing her with +the same grave courtesy he would have used in speaking to the best-born +lady in the land, "if, since I forbade the making or using o' tea in my +house, any has been brewed?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, master," she answered without any hesitancy; and a sly look, as +of revenge, crept into her black eyes. +</P> + +<P> +"How dared ye do such a thing?" he demanded, his face severe with +indignation. +</P> + +<P> +"I never did it," was her laconic reply. +</P> + +<P> +"Then who did? I command ye to make a clean breast o' the matter." +And he struck his stick peremptorily upon the floor, while Dorothy, +awed by the unusual anger showing in his voice and bearing, drew a +little away from him. +</P> + +<P> +"It was Mistress Penine brewed the tea, for her own drinking." And +Tyntie showed actual pleasure in being thus enabled to expose her +oppressor. +</P> + +<P> +"And how often hath this happened since I gave strict orders that none +should be had or drunk in this house o' mine?" +</P> + +<P> +"'Most every day; and sometimes more than once in the day." +</P> + +<P> +"And how were you guarding your master's interests, to permit such +secret goings on under his roof, without giving him warning?" +</P> + +<P> +The tears rose to Tyntie's eyes and stood sparkling there; but her +voice was firm as she replied, "It was not for me to know that Mistress +Penine was doing anything wrongful, nor for me, a servant, to come to +you, my master, with evil reports o' your own kinsfolk." +</P> + +<P> +She spoke slowly and with calm dignity, and her words softened the +white wrath from the old man's face. +</P> + +<P> +He bent his head for a moment, as though pondering deeply; then he +looked at her and said in a very different tone: "You are a +right-minded, faithful servant, Tyntie, and I must tell you I am sorry +to have spoken as I did a moment agone. But from this day henceforth, +bear in mind that should you ever see aught being done under my roof +that you've heard me forbid, 't is your bounden duty to come and inform +me freely o' such matter." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, master." Tyntie now wiped her eyes, and looked very much +comforted. +</P> + +<P> +"Now," he asked, his voice growing stern once more, "know you where +aught o' the forbidden stuff be kept, or if there still be any in the +house?" +</P> + +<P> +Tyntie went silently to the store-closet and fetched a sizable can of +burnished copper. This she opened and held toward her master and young +mistress, who saw that it was nearly half filled with the prohibited +tea. +</P> + +<P> +Joseph Devereux scowled fiercely as he beheld this tangible evidence of +Penine's bad faith and selfishness. +</P> + +<P> +"Do you take that in your own hands, Tyntie, as soon as may be," he +said; "or no—take it this instant, down to the beach, and throw it, +can and all, into the water. And see to it that you make mention o' +this matter to no one." +</P> + +<P> +Then turning slowly, he took his way again to the front of the house, +Dorothy following in silence, and feeling unwontedly awed by the +apprehension of the storm she felt was about to break; for it was a +rare matter indeed for Aunt Penine to be the one entirely at fault in +anything. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap10"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER X +</H3> + +<P> +Dorothy saw Mary Broughton on the porch outside and was about to join +her, when Mary turned and called out, "Aunt Penine is waiting to see +your father." +</P> + +<P> +At this Dorothy retraced her steps to the library, where she had left +her father sitting in moody silence, tracing with his stick invisible +writings upon the floor, the iron ferule making angry clickings against +the oaken polish. +</P> + +<P> +He made no reply to the message she gave him; so, after pausing a +moment, she said again that her aunt was awaiting him. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, yes, child; I hear ye," he replied almost impatiently, and as +though not wishing to be disturbed. +</P> + +<P> +Dorothy said nothing more, but went out and joined Mary, who was +waiting on the porch; and, arm in arm, they strolled out into the +sunshiny morning. +</P> + +<P> +They had gone but a little way when Dorothy's sharp eyes spied Pashar +coming from a side door of the house. His black hand held something +white, which he was thrusting into the pocket of his jacket. +</P> + +<P> +She called to him sharply, and he turned his head in her direction, +while his eyes rolled restlessly. But he made no movement to come to +her, and stood motionless, as though awaiting her orders. +</P> + +<P> +"Come here!" she called peremptorily; but still he hesitated. +</P> + +<P> +"Do you come here this instant, Pashar, as I bid you," she commanded, +now taking a few steps toward him. +</P> + +<P> +At this he came forward, but in a halting way, and at length stood +before her, looking very ill at ease. +</P> + +<P> +"Give me that letter," Dorothy demanded, extending her hand for it. +</P> + +<P> +"Mist'ess Penine done say—" he began in a hesitating, remonstrative +fashion; but Dorothy cut him short. +</P> + +<P> +"Give me that letter," she repeated, stamping her small foot, "or +you'll be sorry!" +</P> + +<P> +Trained like a dumb beast to obedience, the negro boy fumbled in his +pocket and took out a folded paper which he handed to his imperious +young mistress. +</P> + +<P> +"What'll I say ter Massa Jameson when I sees him?" he asked +tremblingly, as Dorothy's little white fingers closed over the letter. +"He'll lay his ridin'-whip 'bout my shoulders, if I goes ter him now." +</P> + +<P> +"My father will surely lay <I>his</I> riding-whip about your shoulders, if +you go near Jameson again. I'll see to it myself that you get whipped, +if you dare do such a thing," exclaimed Dorothy; and the angry flashing +of her dark eyes bore witness to her sincerity. +</P> + +<P> +"Now," she added, "go about your work,—whatever you have to do. And +mind, don't you dare stir a step—no matter who bids you—to Jameson's +place; else you will get into trouble that will make you wish you had +obeyed me." +</P> + +<P> +With this she turned back with Mary in the direction of the house. +</P> + +<P> +"Ye won't have me whipped, will ye, mist'ess?" Pashar whimpered, as he +looked after her. "Mist'ess Penine—she tole me I was ter go. An', +'sides, I gets money from Massa Jameson for ev'ry letter I fetches him." +</P> + +<P> +"I'll see presently about your getting whipped," was Dorothy's +uncomforting reply, as she glanced over her shoulder at the trembling +boy. +</P> + +<P> +The two girls walked quickly toward the house, while Pashar betook +himself off with a very downcast air, digging his black fists into his +eyes as if he felt only too certain of being punished for his +wrongdoing. +</P> + +<P> +Joseph Devereux was ascending the stairway, bound for his +sister-in-law's room, when the two girls came in from outside. Dorothy +called quickly, and speeding after him, placed the letter in his hand, +as he paused and turned to face her. +</P> + +<P> +In a low voice she acquainted him with what she had taken upon herself +to do, adding, "I was fearful of what she might have told him, if +perchance she overheard anything last night of the gunpowder and arms." +</P> + +<P> +"Wise, trusty little maid," he said, a slow smile touching the gloom of +his set face. "You have acted rightly and with great discretion, Dot. +And now I will see what Penine has to say o' the matters that look so +grave, as we see them." +</P> + +<P> +Pausing at her closed door, on the left-hand side of the upper passage, +he knocked, and then entered, as her querulous voice, now somewhat +subdued, bade him. +</P> + +<P> +Penine was lying back on a settle, a bright-hued patchwork of silk +thrown over her spare form; and her eyes showed traces of recent tears. +</P> + +<P> +Her brother-in-law seated himself in an arm-chair near her, his face +grave to sternness, as he bent a piercing look upon her troubled face. +</P> + +<P> +She cast a furtive glance at the paper he still held in his hand; then +her eyes fell, and she began to pluck nervously at the edge of the +covering, while her face became filled with an expression of guilty +embarrassment. +</P> + +<P> +"Penine," he began, in a voice quite low, but full of severity, "these +be times when, as you well know, it behooves a householder to look most +carefully to the doings of those about him. He must see to it that all +appearance, as well as doing, o' wrong be most strictly avoided. And +so I have come to ask you, as one o' my own household, how is it that +you have been brewing tea for yourself, after all that's been done and +said; and how 't is that you have such a supply of the stuff in my +house?" +</P> + +<P> +Penine flushed angrily, and tried to look him in the eyes, while her +lips half parted, as though to make some retort. Then she seemed to +alter her mind, for she remained silent, her eyes falling guiltily +before his stern, searching gaze. +</P> + +<P> +"Do not seek to hide your fault by another one—o' falsehood," he +warned her, more sternly than before. "I know what I am accusing you +of to be the truth,—more's the pity. And it surprises and grieves me +that a woman o' such years as you should set a pernicious example to +those who, younger and inferior in station to yourself, look to you for +a proper code of action for their following." +</P> + +<P> +"What harm is it, I would like to know," she burst out, but weakly, +"that I should drink my tea, if I like?" +</P> + +<P> +"The harm you do is to defy your country's law, and make me seem +disloyal and false to my word of honor," he replied with increasing +sternness. "And this you have no right to do, while you abide under my +roof." +</P> + +<P> +"My country's law is the law of His Gracious Majesty," she answered, +plucking up a little spirit, but yet unable to meet his dark, angry +eyes, "and I have never heard that he forbade his loyal subjects all +the tea they could pay for and drink." +</P> + +<P> +"Do ye mean me to understand that ye set yourself up as the enemy o' +your townsfolk and kindred?" he demanded, his voice rising. "I've +suspected as much since I had knowledge o' the fact o' your sending +notes to Robert Jameson." +</P> + +<P> +"You have no right to talk to me so, Joseph," she said, with a whimper, +terrified at the angry lighting of his face, now ablaze with wrath. +</P> + +<P> +"And ye have no right to act in a manner that makes it possible for me +to presume to. If things be not so black against ye as they surely +look, take this note that ye sent my servant with just now, to be +delivered to our country's avowed enemy, and read every word aloud to +me." +</P> + +<P> +He held the letter toward her; but she made such an eager clutch for it +that a sudden impulse led him to change his mind, and he drew back his +hand. +</P> + +<P> +"No," he said, "on second thought, 't is best that ye give me permit to +read it myself, aloud." +</P> + +<P> +"No, no!" she exclaimed almost breathlessly; and the unmistakable +terror in her voice and eyes confirmed him in his determination to see +for himself the contents of the letter. +</P> + +<P> +"I have to beg your pardon, Penine," he said with formal courtesy, "for +seeming to do a most ungallant act; but your manner only proves to me +what is my duty." +</P> + +<P> +With this he deliberately broke the seal and ran his eyes over the +paper, while Penine cast one terrified glance at him, and then fell +back, silent and cowering, her ashy face covered by her trembling hands. +</P> + +<P> +She had written Jameson of the intended landing of the arms and powder. +And Joseph Devereux knew she had done so with a view to having him send +word of the matter to the Governor, hoping in this way to win honor and +reward for the man she expected to lure into speedy wedlock. +</P> + +<P> +He read the letter once more, and then sat silent, as though pondering +over all her selfish treachery and disloyalty. And while he was thus +musing, the clock on the mantel ticked with painful loudness, and some +flies crawling about the panes of the closed windows buzzed angrily. +</P> + +<P> +When at length he spoke, his wrath seemed to have given place to pity, +mingled with utter contempt. +</P> + +<P> +"I can scarce credit, Penine," he said slowly, all trace of anger gone +from his voice, "that you should have realized to the full all you were +doing when you took such a step,—that you were bringing the British +guns down to slay my son, an' like as not my innocent little maid; a +fate which now, thank God, has been kept from them." +</P> + +<P> +His voice had become husky, and he paused to clear his throat. Then he +resumed, speaking in the same deliberate manner: "Because o' their +deliverance from death I will try and forgive what you have tried to +do; but I must not forget it, lest another such thing befall. And now, +until you be able to travel, you shall be made comfortable here. But +so soon as your ankle can be used, then you shall go to your brother, +in Lynn, for no roof o' mine shall harbor secret enemies to my country. +And," now with more sternness, "I warn you, that should you seek to +hold converse or communication of any sort with this man Jameson while +you are in my house, I shall report the matter to the town committee, +and leave them to settle with you." +</P> + +<P> +He arose from his chair, and without another glance in her direction +went out of the room, leaving Penine in tears. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap11"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XI +</H3> + +<P> +The days intervening until Friday passed without event, and the +household affairs went on much as before, Tyntie proving herself fully +capable of replacing Aunt Penine as head of the domestic régime. +</P> + +<P> +That lady kept her room, seeing no one except Tyntie and one of the +younger maids. She had refused all overtures extended by her niece and +Mary Broughton; and so, by the advice of the head of the house, they +left her to herself. +</P> + +<P> +Even Aunt Lettice was refused admittance by her sister, and refrained +from seeking it a second time after being informed by Joseph Devereux +of the recent occurrences. +</P> + +<P> +The gentle old lady now went about the house in a sad, subdued fashion, +secretly debating as to whether she would decide against King or +Colony, but carefully keeping her thoughts from being known to others. +</P> + +<P> +Johnnie Strings had kept his word to Dorothy, and brought the ribbon +and lace. Aunt Lettice had paid him for the goods she purchased, +making no response when he said, as he strapped his pack, "The +Britishers be quartered on the Neck, ma'am,—landed there this very +mornin'. The reg'lars,—they came down by ships from Salem; an' a +troop o' dragoons be ridin' over to join 'em." +</P> + +<P> +It was Mary Broughton who asked, "What are they come there for, +Johnnie,—do you know?" +</P> + +<P> +"Any one can guess, mistress, I take it," he replied significantly, +busying himself with the buckles. +</P> + +<P> +"And what do you guess, Johnnie?" asked Dorothy, who was examining a +sampler 'Bitha was working, which was to announce,— +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +"Tabitha Hollis is my name,<BR> +New England is my nation,<BR> +Marblehead is my dwelling-place,<BR> +And Christ is my Salvation."<BR> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +Johnnie Strings finished his work with the straps and buckles; then +raising himself from the floor, he said jocosely: "Now, Mistress +Dorothy, surely ye don't care to burden your mind with matters o' +state. Whatever they be come down for, 't is a true fact that the +redcoats be on the Neck,—a hundred or more of 'em. An' as I was +tellin' ye but t'other day, ye'd best keep at home till they be called +away again." +</P> + +<P> +This was Thursday; and Friday morning the two girls, with 'Bitha, were +down in the Sachem's Cave, a small opening that ran, chasm-like, into +the rocks a few feet above the level of the sea, with a natural roof +projecting over it. +</P> + +<P> +Within was a sandy floor,—whether or not the work of man, none living +could say. It was studded with shells, placed there by childish hands, +and the cave had served as playhouse for many generations of boys and +girls. +</P> + +<P> +The opening was hung about with a lace-like weed, wherein some drops of +water were now sparkling in the morning sunshine; and beyond, +stretching away to the horizon, could be seen the sea. +</P> + +<P> +The waves creeping in against the shore broke with gentle plashings as +they touched the rocky base of the headlands; a wonderful serenity lay +over the face of the earth, and all between the land and horizon seemed +a blank and dreaming space of water. +</P> + +<P> +"We are sure to have a fine night," Dorothy had just said, as she +looked out at the sea and sky. +</P> + +<P> +"H-m-m," murmured Mary, warningly, and with a quick glance at 'Bitha, +who seemed to be poring intently over a small book she had taken from +her pocket. +</P> + +<P> +"What are you reading, 'Bitha?" Dorothy asked; and the little girl came +close beside her. +</P> + +<P> +It was Aunt Lettice's "Church Book;" and on the titlepage was:— +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent" ALIGN="center"> + "A NEW VERSION OF<BR> + the<BR> + PSALMS<BR> + of<BR> + DAVID,<BR> + fitted to the Tunes ufed in the Churches:<BR> + With feveral Hymns<BR> + Out of the<BR> + Old and New Teftaments.<BR> + By John Barnard,<BR> + Paftor of a Church in Marblehead." +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +In the back part of the book was the music of several tunes such as +were used at that time in the churches; and amongst them was one known +as +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent" ALIGN="center"> +"Marblehead." +</P> + +<A NAME="img-095"></A> +<CENTER> +<IMG CLASS="imgcenter" SRC="images/img-095.jpg" ALT="music score" BORDER="" WIDTH="466" HEIGHT="455"> +<H4 CLASS="h4center" STYLE="width: 466px"> +music score +</H4> +</CENTER> + +<P CLASS="footnote"> +* Copied literally from publication "printed by J. Draper for T. +Leverett in Cornhill 1752." +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +Good Parson Barnard had years since been laid away in his grave on the +old Burial Hill, which rose higher than all the land about, as though +Nature were seeking to lift as near as might be to the skies the dead +committed to her care. +</P> + +<P> +The quaint child seemed to delight in pondering over these hymns, many +of which were past her comprehending; and the long s, so like an f, led +her to make many curious blunders when trying to repeat the words,—a +thing she was always proud to be asked to do. +</P> + +<P> +Once she had insisted upon being told why it was that saints must have +"fits;" and it appeared that she had misread the long s in the +sentence, "The Saints that fit above." +</P> + +<P> +Her greatest favorite, and the one she often read, was:— +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +"My Heart, like Grafs that's fmit with heat<BR> +Withers, that I forget to eat;<BR> +By reafon of my conftant Groans<BR> +I am reduced to fkin and Bones.<BR> +I'm like the Pelican, and Owl,<BR> +That lonely in the Deferts ftroll;<BR> +As mournful fparrows percht alone<BR> +On the Houfe Top, I walk and moan."<BR> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +"Tell me, cousin,—what sort o' bottles does God have?" she now asked, +as Dorothy glanced at the book held against her knee. +</P> + +<P> +"'Bitha!" Mary exclaimed reprovingly, while Dorothy stared at the +child, and began to laugh. +</P> + +<P> +'Bitha could never endure to be laughed at; and being very fond of Mary +Broughton, she did not relish her disapproval. And so at this double +attack upon her sensibilities, she looked hurt and a bit angry. +</P> + +<P> +"If," she demanded, "'t is wicked to say that God has bottles, what +does the Church Book say so for?" And she pointed to the open page. +</P> + +<P> +"Whatever does the child mean?" asked Dorothy of Mary, as she took the +book into her own hands. +</P> + +<P> +"There,—right there!" was 'Bitha's triumphant retort. "Read for +yourself!" And she trailed a small finger along the lines,— +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +"Thou hast a book for my complaints,<BR> +A bottle for my Tears."<BR> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +"There!" the child repeated. "You see 't is so. Why should God keep +bottles in Heaven,—and what sort would He keep?" +</P> + +<P> +"I think you will know more about such things when you grow older," was +Dorothy's irresponsive answer; and she handed the book to Mary, while +her dancing eyes glinted with topaz hues caught from the sunshine +without. +</P> + +<P> +"You are an odd child, 'Bitha," Mary said, smiling in spite of herself +as she read the lines. +</P> + +<P> +"That is what I am always told when I ask about anything," the little +girl pouted. +</P> + +<P> +Before any reply could be made to this general accusation a shadow +darkened the opening of the cave, and looking up, all three sprang to +their feet with exclamations of dismay. +</P> + +<P> +A vivid gleam of scarlet shut away the daylight, and a pair of sea-blue +eyes, set in an olive-hued face, were looking at them with much +curiosity. +</P> + +<P> +The two older girls stood speechless, facing the intruder, whose gaze +wandered with respectful curiosity over the regal form and gold-brown +hair of the one, whose mouth was decidedly scornful, as were also her +steady blue eyes, which regarded him fearlessly, despite her quaking +heart. +</P> + +<P> +Then the new-comer's eyes turned to the smaller figure; and a flash of +admiration came into them as his hand stole to his head and removed its +covering, while he said with unmistakable courtesy, "Do not be alarmed, +I beg of you,—I mean no harm." +</P> + +<P> +"What do you want?" Mary Broughton demanded, seeming in no wise +softened by his gentle bearing. +</P> + +<P> +"Only your good-will," he replied, with a smile that showed beautiful +teeth. +</P> + +<P> +She flashed a scornful glance in return. +</P> + +<P> +"Good will!" she repeated. "That is something we have not in our power +to give one who wears a coat the color of yours." She spoke defiantly, +looking the young man squarely in the face. +</P> + +<P> +"Such words, uttered by such lips, almost make me coward enough to +regret the color," he said good-naturedly, and as though determined not +to take offence. +</P> + +<P> +With this he took a step or two inside the cave; and small 'Bitha, +dismayed at the near approach of the scarlet-clad form, clung tightly +to Dorothy's gown, pressing her face into its folds. +</P> + +<P> +"Speak him fair, Mary," Dorothy whispered, apprehending possible danger +from her friend's want of discretion. +</P> + +<P> +But Mary did not hear, or else she did not care to heed, for she said: +"Neither your raiment, nor aught that concerns you, can matter to us. +This is our property you are trespassing upon; and I bid you begone, +this moment." +</P> + +<P> +"You are surely lacking in courtesy, mistress," he replied, still +smilingly. +</P> + +<P> +The words were addressed to Mary, but his glowing eyes were fixed upon +Dorothy, who was still standing with her arms about 'Bitha. The color +was coming and going in her cheeks, and something in the big eyes told +him that a smile was not far away. +</P> + +<P> +"We have no courtesy for British soldiers," was Mary's haughty answer +to his imputation; and there was an angry tapping of her foot upon the +shell floor. +</P> + +<P> +He shrugged his shoulders, and turning more directly away from Mary, +now spoke to Dorothy. +</P> + +<P> +"I was only wandering about the shore," he declared, looking at her as +though pleading for her good-will, "and hearing voices as I stood on +the rocks above, I made bold to find out from whence they came." +</P> + +<P> +Mary had not taken her eyes from his face, and now she was quick to +answer him. +</P> + +<P> +"Well," she said, before Dorothy could speak, "having found where the +voices came from, you'd best go on about your own affairs and leave us +to ours." +</P> + +<P> +"And what if I refuse?" he asked quickly, a flash coming from his eyes +as though she had at length nettled him. +</P> + +<P> +"I should try to tumble you over the rocks at your back," she answered +with sudden anger; and she stepped toward him as if to carry out her +threat. +</P> + +<P> +He moved back hastily, and then, missing his footing on the slippery +granite, fell over backwards down the rocks. +</P> + +<P> +Dorothy's shriek was echoed shrilly by little 'Bitha, while Mary stood +as though transfixed, looking at the opening through which the young +man had disappeared. +</P> + +<P> +Dorothy was the first to find her voice. "Mary," she cried in +terrified reproach, "you have made him fall into the water, and perhaps +he will drown. Whatever shall we do?" +</P> + +<P> +Mary did not reply, but speeding to the entrance of the cave, looked +out over the uneven ledges. +</P> + +<P> +The Britisher was lying, apparently unconscious, only a short distance +below her, his shoulders caught in a deep seam of the rocks, while the +rest of his body lay along a narrow ledge a few feet lower. +</P> + +<P> +"There he is," she said, turning a white face to Dorothy,—"lying there +in the rocks." +</P> + +<P> +Putting 'Bitha aside, Dorothy came and looked down. +</P> + +<P> +"See the blood on his face!" she exclaimed wildly. "'T is coming from +a cut on the side of his head. Oh, Mary, I'm afraid you have killed +him!" +</P> + +<P> +Mary started to reply; but Dorothy had already sprung past her through +the mouth of the cave, and was flying down the rocks to where the +wounded man lay. +</P> + +<P> +Tearing the silken kerchief from about her neck, she knelt beside him +and endeavored to wipe the blood from his face, while Mary watched her +in silence from above, with 'Bitha clinging to her, and crying softly. +</P> + +<P> +"I must have some water, Mary," said Dorothy, who saw that the blood +came from a cut in the side of the young man's head, "and I want +another kerchief. Throw down yours." +</P> + +<P> +Mary, without replying, tossed down her own kerchief, but without +removing her eyes from the white face beneath her. +</P> + +<P> +Dorothy ran to the sand-beach near by, and, having dabbled her bloody +kerchief in the water, hurried back; then laying it folded upon the +wound, she bound it fast with the one Mary had thrown her, lifting the +sufferer's head as she did this, and holding one of his broad shoulders +against her knee, while her nimble fingers deftly tied the knots. +</P> + +<P> +Scarcely had she finished when she was startled, but no less relieved, +to hear a long, quivering sigh come from his lips; and her color +deepened as she looked into his face and met his opening eyes gazing +wonderingly into her own. Then they wandered over her bared neck and +throat, only to return to her eyes, dwelling there with a look that +made her voice tremble as she said, "We are sorry you are hurt, sir; I +hope it is nothing serious." +</P> + +<P> +He made no reply, and, after a moment's pause, she asked, "Do you feel +able to stand on your feet?" +</P> + +<P> +Still he did not answer, but gave her that same intent, questioning +look, as if gazing through and beyond the depths of the eyes above him. +</P> + +<P> +As she stammeringly repeated her inquiry, he sighed heavily, and seemed +to shake his dreaming senses awake, for, raising himself a little, he +passed his shapely brown hand over his bandaged head, and laughed, +albeit not very mirthfully. +</P> + +<P> +"The other fair young dame must be rejoiced at my mishap," he said, +"but—I thank you for your care. I seem to have done something to my +head, for it feels like a burning coal." And he touched the bandage +over the wound. +</P> + +<P> +"It is the salt water, getting into the cut," Dorothy explained, as he +rose slowly and stood before her. "I am very sorry it is so painful; +but it will stop the bleeding." +</P> + +<P> +"As it was you who placed it there, I like it to burn," he said in a +tone to reach her ears alone. "But I'll not forget, even when the pain +ceases." And he looked down into her face in a way that made her eyes +droop. +</P> + +<P> +"I regret very much, sir, that you were injured," said Mary Broughton, +her voice coming from over his head. +</P> + +<P> +He glanced up at her and bowed mockingly. Then stooping to regain his +hat, he said, bending his eyes on Dorothy, "Tell me the name I am to +remember you by." +</P> + +<P> +She did not answer; and he stood looking at her as though awaiting her +pleasure. +</P> + +<P> +"That can be no matter," she said at last, and in a very low voice. +</P> + +<P> +"Ah, but it is—a very great matter," he exclaimed eagerly, laying a +hand on her arm, as she turned away to climb up to the cavern. +</P> + +<P> +Some inward force seemed to be impelling her, and scarcely aware of +what she was saying, she murmured her own name, and he repeated it +after her. +</P> + +<P> +This brought a still deeper color to her cheeks; but as if remembering +all she had so strangely forgotten in the presence of this enemy of her +country, she pushed away his detaining hand, and passed quickly up the +rocks to where Mary was standing. +</P> + +<P> +The young man said nothing more, but looked up at the two; then lifting +his hat, he turned and walked slowly away. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap12"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XII +</H3> + +<P> +He had scarcely gone when the two girls made haste to leave the cave +and return to the house. +</P> + +<P> +"'T is most unfortunate for us, Dot, that he found the cave, or that +all this should befall," said Mary, as they went down the rocks. "You +know what we have to do to-night; and it may make our work dangerous, +now that he has been here." +</P> + +<P> +A soft whistle interrupted Dorothy's reply; and looking up, they saw +the lean visage of Johnnie Strings, who was perched upon the rocks +above the cave they had just left. +</P> + +<P> +Having attracted their attention, the pedler made haste to join them. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, I snum!" he exclaimed. "Mistress Mary, whatever was the +Britisher seekin' about here, an' talkin' about? What ailed his head, +all tied up, like 't was hurt?" +</P> + +<P> +"He said he heard us talking, and came to see who it was," small 'Bitha +took it upon herself to explain, "and Mary Broughton pushed him down +the rocks." +</P> + +<P> +Johnnie began to laugh, but Dorothy turned to the child and said, +"'Bitha, you know that it is not true, for he stepped backward himself, +and fell over." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes; but 't was Mary made him," 'Bitha insisted. "And, 'though I was +sorry to have him hurt, I was glad Mary made him go away." +</P> + +<P> +"Were you there all the time, Johnnie Strings, and never came nigh to +help us?" demanded Mary, indignantly. They were now walking along +together, for Johnnie seemed inclined to accompany them to the house. +</P> + +<P> +"Nay, nay, mistress," he declared emphatically, but still grinning, as +though vastly pleased. "But I should say ye needed no help from me to +frighten away redcoats. I only came up as I heard Mistress Dorothy say +you'd made him fall into the water. Then I sat an' watched her tie up +his head,—more 's the pity; for belike he'll only use it to hatch more +deviltry for his soldiers to carry out hereabouts." +</P> + +<P> +"Do you know who he is?" inquired Dorothy, her face taking on a little +more color. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, mistress,—he is a dragoon. I saw him over at Salem t' other +day. They call him Cornet Southorn; an' I only hope he don't get to +know my face too well." Johnnie winked as he said this, and his voice +had a note of mystery. +</P> + +<P> +"I don't believe he would ever harm us," said Dorothy, paying no +attention to the pedler's anxiety concerning himself. +</P> + +<P> +Johnnie's eyes fastened upon her glowing face with a look of surprise +as he remarked grimly, "He's a Britisher, an' our sworn enemy." +</P> + +<P> +On the porch of the house they found Joseph Devereux, who listened with +frowning brows while the girls told him of their adventure. +</P> + +<P> +"Go within, child, to the grandame," he bade 'Bitha, when they had +finished; and as soon as she was gone he said to the pedler, "Now, +Strings, you may, or may not, know aught o' the work in hand for the +night." +</P> + +<P> +The pedler nodded understandingly. "Me an' Lavinia Amelia jogged a bit +o' the mornin' down road with the party from here, an' I was reckonin' +to offer my help, should it be needed. I was on my way this very +mornin' to tell ye that Master Broughton an' the rest thought I'd +better have some of our own men 'round hereabouts, handy for the powder +party to-night." +</P> + +<P> +"'T is best that you do so, as matters have turned out. And 't is +wiser that you be trusted to give the signals to the 'Pearl,' for a +safe landing o' the stuff, and that Mary and Dorothy be left out o' the +matter altogether. 'T is no work for women to risk, with the British +soldiery skulking about the place." +</P> + +<P> +The day passed without event, save that a number of men—mostly brawny, +weather-beaten sailors—came to the house, to go away again after a +private converse with Joseph Devereux. +</P> + +<P> +Johnnie Strings was about the place all day,—now wandering down to the +beach to look out over the wide expanse of ocean, as he whittled +unceasingly at a bit of stick and whistled softly to himself, or else +sitting on the steps of the porch, telling wonderful stories to 'Bitha. +But wherever he was, or what doing, his keen little eyes were always +roving here and there, as though on the lookout for something +unexpected. +</P> + +<P> +It was evident that he was nervous and ill at ease; and this, for +Johnnie Strings, was a new thing. +</P> + +<P> +Toward sunset he arose from the porch steps and gave a great sigh, as +of relief that the day was ended. Then, without a word to any one, he +tramped off in the direction of the Neck. +</P> + +<P> +"'T is as well," he muttered to himself, "to see what the devils be +doin', an' if they be like to suspect what is goin' on about 'em." +</P> + +<P> +The sunset was of marvellous beauty. It was as if all the golds, +purples, and scarlets of the hour had been pounded to a fine dust, and +this was rolling in from over the ocean in one great opaline mist. +</P> + +<P> +The waves, curling in to break upon the sands of Riverhead Beach, +seemed to be pouring out flames and sparks; while the quieter waters of +Great Bay, on the other side of the causeway, looked as though shot +through with long, luminous rays of light, that slanted athwart the +mists of prismatic coloring, to withdraw swiftly now and again, like +search-lights seeking to probe the clear water to its uttermost depths. +</P> + +<P> +But the far-off eastern horizon held aloof from all this glory. It +stood out like a wall of pearl and cold gray, with no sail showing +against it to Johnnie Strings' sharp eyes, as he took his way across +the narrow strip of causeway that left the Devereux estate behind, and +led to the Neck and the enemy's camp. +</P> + +<P> +The pedler knew nothing of the passion called love, else he would never +have been so lacking in shrewdness as to formulate the scheme now +working in his mind. And this, notwithstanding the suspicion that had +shot through his wide-awake brain at the way he had seen Cornet +Southorn looking into the downcast face of Dorothy Devereux, and had +noted later her words in his defence. +</P> + +<P> +His present idea—and one that had been gathering force all day—was to +see the young officer, and while pretending to have come solely to +inquire as to his injury, to so lead the talk as to impress upon his +mind the needlessness of watching the Devereux place or household, +which he should be made to understand consisted only of the women-folk +and one enfeebled old gentleman,—the son being away in Boston. +</P> + +<P> +And now, as he neared the enemy's quarters, he chuckled to himself at +the cleverness of his scheme. +</P> + +<P> +The British troops had taken possession of the entire Neck, occupying +several large warehouses standing near the end, and appropriating even +the buildings used by the lighthouse-keeper and his wife, who, with her +two children and as many of her most precious possessions as she could +carry, had gone across the bay to abide with friends in the town. +</P> + +<P> +Johnnie Strings knew this, and gritted his teeth in silent rage as he +saw a group of redcoats standing around a fire where they were cooking +some of the good woman's chickens for their evening meal. +</P> + +<P> +They hailed him good-naturedly, and invited him to join them, several +of the soldiers recognizing him as one from whom they had purchased +certain things necessary for their comfort. +</P> + +<P> +But he declined their offer, and pulling his hat well over his +forehead, the better to conceal his features, went on beyond to another +group, and demanded to be taken to the presence of Cornet Southorn, +speaking in a way to imply that he had an important message for that +officer. +</P> + +<P> +He was ushered at once into the front room of the lighthouse-keeper's +abode, where, upon a settle drawn near the window overlooking Great +Bay, sat the personage he desired to see. +</P> + +<P> +The young man's head was still bandaged, and the table before him with +food and dishes upon it was evidence of his having supped alone; this +confirming what Johnnie Strings had suspected,—that the soldiers upon +the Neck were at present under the charge of Cornet Southorn. +</P> + +<P> +Captain Shandon, who should have been there,—an elegant fop, high in +favor with the Governor,—was sure to avoid any rough service, such as +this, preferring to remain until the last moment in Salem, where better +fare, both as to food and wines, to say naught of the gentler sex, was +to be had. +</P> + +<P> +Johnnie Strings stood in the shadow, without removing his hat, as +Cornet Southorn demanded pleasantly enough to know his business. +</P> + +<P> +"I came to see how your head was doin' at this hour o' the day, young +sir," the pedler answered in an obsequious tone. +</P> + +<P> +As the last two words came from his lips, the officer scowled. He was +only five-and-twenty, and looked still younger; and he was boyish +enough to resent any familiarity grounded upon his seeming youth. +</P> + +<P> +"Have a care, old man, as to how you address His Majesty's officers," +he said with some severity, accompanied by a pompousness illy in +keeping with his frank, boyish face. +</P> + +<P> +"I meant no harm, Cornet Southorn," the pedler replied in an apologetic +way. "I saw ye over at Salem t' other day, when I was peddlin' my +wares there; an' I've been all day at the house o' Mistress Dorothy +Devereux, the young lady who tied up your hurt head this mornin'. And +so"—here Johnnie smiled knowingly—"I came to see if ye were any the +worse for your fall, which might have been a bit o' bad luck, had not +the ledge caught ye an' held ye from slippin' into the sea." +</P> + +<P> +The young man's manner changed at once. +</P> + +<P> +"Did Mistress Dorothy Devereux send you to inquire?" he asked eagerly. +</P> + +<P> +"She send me?" said the pedler cautiously, and lowering his voice. +"Lawks! 't is well her old father don't hear ye; 'though sure he be +that feeble he's good for little but tongue fight, an' the only son be +away to Boston for this many a day. An' that," he went on to say +quickly, seeing that the young man was about to speak, "is one reason +why 't is well for me to be about the place till the brother cares to +come home, with all those women-folk there, an' no man but the old +father, who is feeble, as I've said. An' 't is not very safe for them, +who be easily frighted by strange men comin' 'round, 'specially +soldiers." +</P> + +<P> +This was a long speech for Johnnie to make, and he watched narrowly its +effect upon the young officer. This was soon apparent, for he said at +once, "You have done well to tell me of this, and I'll see to it that +none of my men cause any annoyance to the ladies." +</P> + +<P> +He fell so neatly into the trap that Johnnie Strings could scarcely +keep from laughing outright; but all he said was—and very meekly: "Ye +be most kind, sir, an' I'll tell Mistress Dorothy what ye say. An' +I'll tell her as well that your head be none the worse for its thumpin' +on the rocks." With this he backed toward the door. +</P> + +<P> +"No, no," said Southorn, "my head is all right. But come back, won't +you,—come and have something to drink before you go?" And he pounded +vigorously on the table. +</P> + +<P> +But Johnnie declined, with many thanks, asserting that he never drank +anything,—a statement fully in accord with his fictitious story +concerning the Devereux household. But he reckoned upon having +accomplished his purpose, and so bowed himself out, just as a red-faced +orderly appeared in response to his officer's summons. +</P> + +<P> +"Never mind, Kief," said the latter, as the soldier stood stiffly in +the doorway awaiting his orders. "I don't need you now." Then, as the +man saluted and turned to go, he asked, "Who is that fellow who just +left? Do you know?" +</P> + +<P> +"Johnnie Strings, sir, the pedler; 'most everybody knows 'im 'twixt +Boston town and Gloucester." +</P> + +<P> +"Ah, yes, I've heard of him before. That is all, Kief; you may go." +</P> + +<P> +As soon as he was alone, Kyrle Southorn, Cornet in His Majesty's +Dragoons, bethought himself of how strangely lacking he had been in +proper dignity during his brief interview with this humble pedler; and +a feeling of sharp anger beset him for a moment as he took himself to +task for his unofficerlike demeanor and manner of speech. +</P> + +<P> +Then came a mental picture of the distracting face he had seen that +same morning; he seemed to be looking once more into the girl's eyes, +and feeling the soft touch of her little hands about his head. +</P> + +<P> +He recalled all this, and gave utterance to a queer, short laugh, as +though in the effort to excuse his folly. +</P> + +<P> +"Either that girl has bewitched me," he muttered, lying back in his +chair, "or else the cut in my head has been making me addlepated all +day." And he let his gaze wander out through the window, where the +dusk was coming fast, blotting out the fort and town like a dark veil, +pierced here and there by the dimly twinkling lights showing from the +houses. +</P> + +<P> +"I wonder if she sent the fellow?" his thoughts ran on. "She told me +she was sorry for my being hurt, and she looked it. But the other—the +fair one—she was a tartar." And he laughed again at the recollection +of Mary Broughton's angry blue eyes and dauntless bearing. +</P> + +<P> +"From what I've seen of these folk," he said, now half aloud, "it will +be no easy matter to suppress their meetings and make them obey His +Majesty's laws. They seem not to know what fear or submission may +mean." Then, after pondering a few minutes, "I wonder if it would not +be a wise thing for me to call upon this man Devereux, as he is so old +and feeble, and assure him and his women-folk that I will see to it +they be not molested—annoyed in any way? I might see her again,—I +might come to know her; and this would be very pleasant." And now his +thoughts trailed away into rosy musings. +</P> + +<P> +If Johnnie Strings had not added fresh fuel to the fire already kindled +in the breast of the impetuous young Englishman by Dorothy's sweet face +and pitying eyes,—had he not made it burn more fiercely by giving him +reason to believe that she had sent to inquire for his welfare,—he +might not have thought to carry out his present impulse. +</P> + +<P> +He was seized by a strong desire to see for himself the place where she +dwelt,—to look upon her surroundings,—to make more perfect the +picture already in his mind, by adding to it the scenes amid which her +daily life was passed. +</P> + +<P> +Such was the young man's desire; and his was a nature whose longing was +likely to manifest itself by acts, and more especially now, in the very +first heart affair of his life. +</P> + +<P> +As soon as the guards were posted and the countersign given out, he +discarded his uniform for a fisherman's rough coat, and put on a large +slouch hat, which covered his head, bandage and all. And thus attired, +he set forth alone to visit the scene of his morning's adventure, and +to investigate its surroundings. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap13"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XIII +</H3> + +<P> +The night was clear, bright, and starlit, with not a wreath of vapor +drifting. The rising wind moaned through the woods about the Devereux +homestead, that loomed, a dark mass, and silent as a deserted house. +</P> + +<P> +From the shore below came the hoarse roar of the tumbling water, to +mingle with the wailing murmur of the wind; and now and then could be +heard, clear-cut and eerie, the cry of a screech-owl from the woods. +</P> + +<P> +As evening closed in, Joseph Devereux had ordered that no lights be +shown about the house, lest they might attract the attention of any +straggling soldiers; and he felt assured that this warning would be +sufficient to intimidate the women into the greatest caution. +</P> + +<P> +As for the men, they were all, even old Leet, out with the party +watching at the "Black Hole,"—a bit of the sea shut in by a wood that +bordered a wide sweep of meadow known as the "Raccoon Lot." It was +here that the expected powder and arms were to be concealed by burying +them in the earth, after being wrapped in oilskin coverings. +</P> + +<P> +Johnnie Strings had gone alone to the Sachem's Cave, ready to give the +signal. +</P> + +<P> +The cave was somewhat farther down the shore, and a light shown above +it could be plainly seen from the open sea. +</P> + +<P> +The rising wind piped softly about the closed window where Mary +Broughton was sitting in the starlight, absorbed in her own anxious +thoughts, until aroused by something unusual in Dorothy's appearance +and manner of moving about. The girl was at the farther side of the +unlit room, and Mary asked her what she was doing. +</P> + +<P> +A low laugh was the only answer; and upon the question being repeated, +Dorothy came to the window, and Mary saw that she was clad in a +complete suit of boy's clothes. +</P> + +<P> +The unexpected transition was so startling that for a moment she could +not speak, but sat looking at Dorothy in amazement. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, Dot," she then exclaimed, "you should take shame to yourself for +doing such a thing!" +</P> + +<P> +She could see, even in the gloom, the wilful toss of Dorothy's head, +whose curls were let down and tied back with a ribbon, thus completing +the masculine disguise. +</P> + +<P> +"Whatever are you thinking about, to play such pranks at a time like +this?" Mary demanded reproachfully. +</P> + +<P> +"That is just it, Mary," Dorothy replied. She seemed in no wise +abashed, but spoke with perfect seriousness. "I do it because of the +time, and of what is going to happen to-night. Father said 't was not +safe for us to go abroad, because we wore petticoats. Now here is this +old suit Jack outgrew years ago, and I've always kept it to masquerade +in; but to-night it will serve me in a more serious matter. I cannot +stop in the house; I am too anxious about Jack. I want to see him and +the others get ashore in safety; and I've no fear but, dressed in this +way, it will be easy for me to do so." +</P> + +<P> +"But you must not," Mary protested. "How can you dare to think of such +a thing? Suppose some of the men should recognize you,—and they will +be keeping a sharp lookout for strangers—what would your father say?" +And she began to have thoughts of seeing him, and so frustrating this +wild scheme. +</P> + +<P> +"I tell you I must go, and will go, Mary; so do not try to prevent me. +I know every inch of ground hereabouts, and can easily keep out of the +way, even should any one try to hinder me. Why will you not go with +me?" +</P> + +<P> +Dorothy spoke quietly, but very earnestly; and as she finished, she +placed both her hands on Mary's shoulders, as though to compel her +consent. +</P> + +<P> +Mary hesitated. There was in her own heart a like desire to that of +the younger girl; she, too, wished to get out of doors, and see all +that should take place. But she held herself to be more prudent than +the impulsive Dorothy, and so for a time she demurred with her +inclination. +</P> + +<P> +But it was only for a time. Dorothy's impetuous arguments fairly swept +her off her balance, as usually happened with any one who was fond of +the girl; and Mary agreed to be her companion. +</P> + +<P> +It was some minutes after this when the two stole noiselessly down the +back stairway and let themselves out of the door opening toward the +sheds at the rear of the house. As Dorothy locked it on the outside +and put the key in her pocket, she whispered: "We might have bribed +Tyntie to let us out, but 't is as well not to risk getting her into +trouble. I shall tell father all about it to-morrow, and I know of a +certainty he'll not be angry. To be sure, he may scold me a little; +but"—with a low laugh—"I can soon kiss him into good humor again." +</P> + +<P> +"Don't you think, Dot, it is rather of a shame,—the way you do things, +and then tell your father afterwards?" Mary asked as they walked along. +</P> + +<P> +"Assuredly not," was the ready answer, "else I might not get so many +chances to 'do things,' as you call it. I never do aught that is +really wrong; I love my father far too dearly for that. But I am +young, and he is old; and that, I suppose, is why we do not think alike +about all matters. He has often said I ought to have been a boy, and I +agree with him; though I dare say I shall be a proper enough old maid +some day. Only," with a laugh, "I cannot quite imagine such a thing." +</P> + +<P> +"No," said Mary, looking into Dorothy's eyes, bright as the stars that +were now being shut away by the branches of the trees in the woods they +were entering; "no—nor I. But we'd best stop our chattering and use +our eyes and ears. Heavens! what's that?" And she clutched Dot's arm +in sudden fright as a wild cry rang out directly over their heads. +</P> + +<P> +"Pooh!" said Dorothy, with a laugh, "'t is but an old hoot-owl. If +you'd been in the woods as much as I, you'd not be frightened so +easily." +</P> + +<P> +They came to a halt at the edge of the timber growth overlooking the +rock peak above the Sachem's Cave, and crouched among the bushes to +watch for the light, keeping a lookout as well upon the sea, for the +first signal from the ship. +</P> + +<P> +And there they remained, listening to the incessant crying of the +insects in the grass and the rustling of the wind in the trees +overhead, these being mingled with the never-ceasing sound of the sea, +as the breakers of the incoming tide flung themselves against the +boulders with a quavering roar that seemed to pulse the air like great +heart-throbs. +</P> + +<P> +Presently Mary whispered, "Why not let us go and stop beside Johnnie +Strings?" Then quickly, "Oh, I forgot—the way you are dressed would +make it imprudent." +</P> + +<P> +"I should not care very much for Johnnie Strings," Dorothy began; but +Mary said hastily,— +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, no, Dot, 'twould never do." +</P> + +<P> +A long silence ensued, broken at length by Mary saying in a tone of +alarm, "Oh, Dot, whatever would we do, if your father went to speak to +you for somewhat, and should not find us in the house at this late +hour?" +</P> + +<P> +"No fear of such a thing," was the confident reply. "He has made sure +long since that I am abed and asleep." +</P> + +<P> +It was half-past ten of the clock when the two girls left the house; +and so they reckoned it must be now several minutes after the next hour. +</P> + +<P> +"Suppose it should be far into the night before the ship comes in +sight," Mary suggested, for she was beginning to feel cramped and +uncomfortable. "Let's not wait for so long a time as that." +</P> + +<P> +"No, we will not," Dorothy assented with a yawn. But the next moment +she was all alive, with her small fingers holding Mary's arm in a tight +clutch as she whispered excitedly: "Look, Mary—there it is! There was +one light, and 't is gone. Now there are the two; and there comes the +third, as Jack said." +</P> + +<P> +The girls arose and stood erect in eager interest, looking out over the +water, where, several hundred yards from shore, the lights gleamed and +then disappeared. And now their eyes, accustomed to the gloom, +discerned a slim blackness, as of a man's form, appear on the highest +point of rocks above the cave; and then a soft glow of tremulous light +illumined the darkness. +</P> + +<P> +While they watched this, they were startled to see a taller figure +spring from the shadows, and a second later the two seemed to melt into +one enlarged blur, as if they were struggling. +</P> + +<P> +Quick as thought the boyish form beside Mary broke from the bushes and +sped with flying steps toward the peak. +</P> + +<P> +"Dot—Dot—come back!" cried Mary, regardless now of who might hear +her. "Whatever are you thinking to do?" +</P> + +<P> +A low but clear reply came to her from over Dorothy's shoulder. +</P> + +<P> +"The lanterns—they must be put out, else Jack may be hurt!" +</P> + +<P> +On, on, she flew, with no fear of the peril into which she might be +rushing,—with no heed of her unmaidenly garb. Her mind held but the +one thought,—that the lanterns must be extinguished, for danger +threatened her brother and his companions if they should seek to land +unwarned. +</P> + +<P> +So absorbed were the men in their fierce wrestling that neither of them +saw nor heard the slight figure that came straight up to them, and +then, dashing at the lanterns, sent them flying into the water beneath. +</P> + +<P> +Then the larger of the two, catching sight of the intruder, relaxed his +hold on the other; and Johnnie Strings, with a derisive whoop, twisted +his wiry little body from the slackened grip and sped down the rocks +and away into the night. +</P> + +<P> +"You young rascal, what does all this mean?" demanded Southorn, for he +it was; and seizing the boyish shoulder firmly, he shook the slender +form. +</P> + +<P> +Dorothy, although greatly overcome by agitation now that her brave deed +was accomplished, thought she recognized the voice that addressed her +so roughly, and was silent from embarrassment. +</P> + +<P> +"Are you dumb?" the Englishman asked angrily, shaking her again. +"Speak up, you young rebel, or I may try what a salt-water bath will do +for the unlocking of your stubborn tongue." +</P> + +<P> +"Stop shaking me, you great—brute," Dorothy gasped indignantly. "Have +you no—manners?" +</P> + +<P> +At sound of the soft-toned voice, Southorn seemed to feel that he was +dealing with no yokel, as he had supposed; and now, peering closely, he +saw that the head of his prisoner was finely shaped, and the features +refined and delicate. +</P> + +<P> +"If you object to rough treatment, my young friend," he said a little +more gently, "you should not put your nose into such doings as these." +But he still kept a firm hold of the arm and shoulder, as though to +stifle any idea of escape. +</P> + +<P> +"I should say 't was you who deserved rough usage,—coming onto my +father's land at this hour, and putting your nose into business that +can in no wise concern you." Dorothy had by this time fully recovered +her composure, and being certain as to the completeness of her +disguise, spoke with saucy assurance. +</P> + +<P> +"Your father's land!" exclaimed the young man, in evident surprise. +"Pray, who is your father?" +</P> + +<P> +"A gentleman who has no great taste for stranger folk prowling about +his estate." She gave her arm and shoulder a slight twitch, as though +to loosen them from his hold. But this he would not have, although his +voice had a still milder sound as he asked, "Is your name Devereux?" +</P> + +<P> +"And whether it is or not," she answered, "pray tell me what matters it +to you?" +</P> + +<P> +"It matters this to me," he said quickly: "that if it is, then I'll let +you off, and will go on my way, although I don't quite like the looks +of the doings I've seen on this rock, and out there on the water." +</P> + +<P> +"By the Holy Poker!" Dorothy exclaimed, bent upon keeping up the part +she had assumed. "But you talk as if you were the Lord High Cockalorum +himself! Who are you, to say what you do and do not like here, on my +father's premises?" +</P> + +<P> +"Never mind who I am. Perhaps I can make more trouble for your father +and his household than you are able to understand. But answer what I +have asked, and you'll not be sorry." +</P> + +<P> +Dorothy could not fail to note the earnestness with which he spoke, nor +the intent look she felt rather than saw in the dim light. But she met +all this with a mocking air and tone as she said, "Since you make it so +worth my while to be kind to my neighbors, how know you but I might see +fit to tell you an untruth, and say my name was Devereux, when it may +be Robinson, or anything else?" +</P> + +<P> +"If this is your father's estate, then your name must be Devereux," +Southorn asserted; "for the place is owned by one Joseph Devereux, as I +have been told. So there's an end to your telling me anything +misleading. And now answer me this,—know you the one who is called +Mistress Dorothy Devereux?" +</P> + +<P> +Dot waited a moment before answering. A new scheme had sprung into her +quick-witted brain,—one that promised an effective means of getting +rid of his embarrassing presence, this being likely to interfere +seriously with the landing of the arms and powder, were that still in +contemplation. +</P> + +<P> +She was wondering, too, what had become of Mary Broughton, and what she +was doing all this time. +</P> + +<P> +"Answer me," the young Britisher repeated sharply, "do you know her?" +And he gave a shake to the arm he still held. +</P> + +<P> +"You seem over-fond of shaking folk, sir," she remonstrated. "I wish +you'd let go my arm." And she pulled it impatiently. +</P> + +<P> +"I will let it go at once, if you'll only tell me what I wish to know." +</P> + +<P> +"And what may that be?" she asked, with an innocent <I>sang-froid</I> that +plainly angered him. +</P> + +<P> +"You are a saucy boy," he said impatiently. "You remember well enough +what I asked you. Do you know Mistress Dorothy Devereux?" +</P> + +<P> +"Aye," was the quick reply; "I know her as well as you know your own +face that you see in the glass every day." She stood rubbing the arm +he had now released, and upon which his grip had been unpleasantly firm. +</P> + +<P> +"Ah—then she is your sister." He had moved so as to stand directly in +front of the slight figure, whose head reached but half-way up his own +broad chest. +</P> + +<P> +She looked at him for a second and then burst into laughter. +</P> + +<P> +"I know you now," she said. "You must be the Britisher she told of +this morning,—the one who came here, and whom Mary Broughton +frightened so badly that he fell over and cut his head." And again the +mocking laugh came from her ready lips. +</P> + +<P> +"I don't believe your sister told you any such untruth," said the +irritated young man. "I missed my footing, and fell; that was all. I +meant no rudeness, although the lady you name—Mary Broughton, did you +call her?—seemed not to believe me." +</P> + +<P> +"Mary has but little taste for a redcoat," was the dry retort. +</P> + +<P> +"And judging from your own tone, you share her taste," he said, now +quite good-naturedly, for he found himself taking a strong liking to +this bright, free-speaking lad. +</P> + +<P> +"I? Oh, I don't know," was the careless answer. "Do you not think I +am somewhat too young to have much of an opinion upon such matters?" +</P> + +<P> +He smiled, but without replying. Then Dot came closer to him and said +in a low voice, "At any rate, I am good-natured enough to say I can +show you something that you, being His Majesty's officer, had best know +about." +</P> + +<P> +"What is it?" the young man asked. He was now looking around for his +hat, which, together with the bandage about his head, had fallen off +during his struggle with the pedler. +</P> + +<P> +Dorothy's sharp eyes were the first to catch sight of these; and she +picked them up and handed them to him, noting with an odd feeling that +he placed the bandage inside his coat and over his heart. +</P> + +<P> +"It is something you may or may not care to see," she replied. "Only +I'll warrant you'll be sorry if another reports it first; for I shall +show it to the next Britisher who comes this way." +</P> + +<P> +"Very well," he said; "let me see it." +</P> + +<P> +Without further parley, and suspecting a nest of concealed firearms, or +something of the like, he followed her down the rocks, going with slow +caution, while she went more rapidly and soon stood below, waiting for +him. And then, side by side, they set off inland. +</P> + +<P> +Dorothy, skirting as closely as was prudent the woods where she +reckoned Mary was still hiding, took care to remark to her companion, +in a voice loud enough to reach her friend's ears, that it would not +take over ten minutes to reach their destination, and that then he had +best go his own way. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap14"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XIV +</H3> + +<P> +Mary Broughton was where Dorothy suspected her to be; and standing well +back among the deeper shadows, she had been straining her eyes to see +all that took place on the rocky platform above the cave. +</P> + +<P> +She marvelled greatly at the lengthy converse Dorothy seemed to be +holding with the stranger, after Johnnie Strings disappeared over the +side of the rocks in the direction of Riverhead Beach; and she had +started out of the wood, half determined to go and meet the younger +girl, when she saw her leaving the peak. +</P> + +<P> +A prudent afterthought led her to draw back again when she saw the two +forms swallowed up in the deeper darkness lying at the base of the +rocks. Then, hearing steps coming toward her hiding-place, she was on +the point of calling out, when Dorothy's words came to her ears, and +she remained silent, but still wondering what scheme her friend was +pursuing, and who was the stranger with whom she seemed to be upon such +excellent terms. +</P> + +<P> +Then came the impulse that she had better find her way to the Black +Hole, and tell the waiting party of what had happened; and acting upon +this, she set out at once. +</P> + +<P> +She had not gone very far when there came to her the sound of tramping +feet; and hastening to get out of the more open part of the wood, she +drew aside amongst the denser growth. +</P> + +<P> +She now heard a low-pitched voice singing a snatch of an old song, +trolling it off in a rollicking fashion that bespoke the youth of the +singer,— +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +"We hunters who follow the chase, the chase,<BR> +Ride ever with care a race, a race.<BR> +We care not, we reck not—"<BR> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +Here the song was silenced by another voice which Mary recognized as +that of Doak, an old fisherman, who growled: "Belay that 'ere pipin', +Bait. Hev ye no sense, thet ye risk callin' down the reg'lars on us +with such a roarin'?" +</P> + +<P> +They were now quite near; and slipping out of the bushes, Mary called +out, "Doak, is that you?" +</P> + +<P> +"Who be it?" he demanded quickly, while all the other men came to a +halt. +</P> + +<P> +"It is I—Mary Broughton. Don't stop to question me, but listen to +what I have to tell you." +</P> + +<P> +She told them in the briefest possible way of what had happened. And +in doing this, she deemed it wiser to tell them of Dorothy's disguise, +being fearful of what might befall the girl should the men chance to +meet her,—more especially as they would now be on the lookout for the +stranger, who was doubtless an ill wisher to their scheme. +</P> + +<P> +Doak chuckled mightily over it all, particularly at Mary's description +of Dorothy kicking the lanterns off the rock; and several of the other +men gave hoarse utterance to their admiration. +</P> + +<P> +"Ev'ry natur' be fitted for its own app'inted work," remarked old Doak, +dogmatically. "If Mistress Dorothy had not allers been darin', by the +natur' o' things, she'd never a ketched holt o' the right rope so true +an' quick as she hev this night,—God bless her!" +</P> + +<P> +Here a younger voice broke in impatiently with, "But, Doak, we ought +n't to stand here chatterin' like this." +</P> + +<P> +"True, true, Tommy Harris," the old man replied good-naturedly. "But," +turning to Mary, "what shall ye do, Mistress Mary? Hed n't ye best let +one o' the boys tek ye to the house? Ye see we be goin' down to the +shore to Master John an' the rest of 'em, as was 'greed we should as +soon as we saw the 'Pearl' show her light." +</P> + +<P> +Mary said she preferred to go with them. But the old man shook his +head, and his companions began to move onward. +</P> + +<P> +"D'ye think 'twould be wise, mistress?" he asked gravely. "Ye see we +don't know jest what sort o' work we may find cut out for +us,—'specially if the man ye saw throttlin' Johnnie Strings were a +British spy, as belike he were, pretty sure." Then he added +impatiently, "I wonder where in tarnation Johnnie hev gone to, thet he +did n't cut back to tell us?" +</P> + +<P> +"And I am wondering where Dorothy has gone," said Mary, with much +anxiety. +</P> + +<P> +"I rather guess ye need hev no fear for her, mistress," Doak made haste +to reply. "She be wide awake, I'll bet my head, where'er she be." +</P> + +<P> +"But it seems so strange a thing that she should go off in such +fashion," Mary said, by no means satisfied with the old man's confident +words. +</P> + +<P> +"She went 'cause she wanted to go; an' she wanted to go 'cause she saw +work cut out to do, I warrant ye," declared Doak, with whom the girl +had always been a great favorite, since the days he used to take her +and Mary Broughton on fishing excursions in his boat. "But as to ye, +mistress—" +</P> + +<P> +"It is this way, Doak," she said, interrupting him: "you see I cannot +get into the house until I find Dorothy; for she has the key of the +only door by which I could enter, except I disturbed every one." +</P> + +<P> +"If ye did thet, Mistress Mary, the father would find out all 'bout the +prankin', eh?" And he chuckled knowingly. +</P> + +<P> +"And so 't is best," she went on, paying no attention to him, "that I +go along with you until we can see Master John; and he will know what +to do." +</P> + +<P> +"Very well, Mistress Mary," Doak said; "come 'long o' me, an' 't will +go hard with any man as seeks to molest ye,—though, from what Johnnie +Strings told me o' what ye did to the spyin' Britisher this mornin'—" +</P> + +<P> +Here he stopped short, both in speech and walking,—for they had been +hurrying to overtake the others, now well in advance—and slapping his +thigh, exclaimed: "I hev it, I hev it! What a blind old fool I be, not +to hev thought o' thet afore! 'T were sure to be the same devil, or +some one he sent, thet ye saw fightin' with Johnnie Strings." +</P> + +<P> +"Do you think so?" asked Mary, surprised that the thought had not +occurred to her before. "Whatever should make him come back there at +this hour of the night?" +</P> + +<P> +"Spyin', mistress, spyin', as 't is the only business he an' his +soldiers be sent down to do hereabouts. Who can say how many of 'em be +lyin' 'round this minute, to jump on us?" +</P> + +<P> +Mary glanced about apprehensively, and moved a little closer to the +sturdy fisherman's side. +</P> + +<P> +They were now out of the woods, and could discern vaguely in the open +field before them the dark forms grouped near the shore, awaiting some +signal or sign that might bespeak the expected boats. +</P> + +<P> +Mary and Doak joined the others, and they all stood in silence, +watching the black water, now streaked with a narrow bar of sullen red +from the eastern sky, where, out of a wild-looking cloud-bank, the moon +was just lifting a full, clear disk. +</P> + +<P> +"Can ye see aught?" muttered one stalwart fellow to his nearest +neighbor,—the two standing near Mary and old Doak. +</P> + +<P> +"Not I," was the low reply. "Mayhap they won't come at all now, since +seein' the lanterns go out." +</P> + +<P> +"Whate'er be ye thinkin' on?" chimed in Doak. "Cap'n Brattle hev +brought the stuff down, fast 'nough; an' he won't be for carryin' it +over to Salem, under the Gov'nor's nose. 'T is to be brought here; an' +here, an' nowhere else, hev they got to land it. They'll only be more +on the lookout now—thet's all. They know us to be here, an' all they +hev to do be to get to us. An' get to us they will, 'though the meadow +be grass-grown with redcoats, an' the King hisself 'mongst 'em." +</P> + +<P> +"D—n the King and all his redcoats!" came hoarsely from another man; +and then the talk was stopped by a faint sound from the water. +</P> + +<P> +Doak commanded the men to keep perfectly silent, for only the keenest +alertness could catch what the wind now brought to them. It was the +faintest imaginable noise of working oars; and it sent a shudder, like +a great sigh, through the waiting group. +</P> + +<P> +Mary Broughton felt her pulses thrill as the sound became more +distinct; and she glanced nervously about, and back of her,—at the +dark woods on the one hand, the frowning rock-piles on the other, and +at the sweep of clear meadows in the rear. +</P> + +<P> +"Draw aside, Mistress Mary, do ye now, please," Doak urged, laying his +hand upon her arm. "Get over there close by the rocks. For if so be +there comes any surprise from the Britishers, 'twill surely be from the +back of us, here; an' in such case ye'll be safe an' clear from 'em, or +from flyin' bullets, if ye get behind the rocks." +</P> + +<P> +She felt the wisdom of this advice, and silently complied, while he +went forward to the men, now drawn down close to the water's edge. +</P> + +<P> +The next moment he sent a likely-to-be-understood signal out over the +water. It was the curlew's cry, which he imitated perfectly; and while +it rang out softly, it was clear and penetrating. +</P> + +<P> +There was a second of silence, save for the wind, and the rippling of +the waves upon the shingle; then came a like cry from out the darkness, +and seeming nearer than had the sound of the oars. +</P> + +<P> +"Now, then, lads, face 'bout, an' watch afore ye!" Doak commanded, his +voice now strong with excitement; and pushing through them until he +reached the very edge of the water, he sent back another call,—loud, +clear, and fearless in its sound. +</P> + +<P> +The other men, with faces turned inland, stood with listening ears and +keen eyes, each gripping his gun, ready to repel the onslaught of any +lurking enemy that might be awaiting a favorable moment to swoop down +upon them. +</P> + +<P> +Following close upon Doak's second call there came the unmistakable +sound of rapidly working oars. Then a sizable lump of dark shadow +showed, speeding toward the beach, and soon defining its shape into +that of a large rowboat. +</P> + +<P> +Crouched closely against the rocks, and listening with checked +breathing, Mary Broughton almost cried aloud as a step startled her. +Then looking intently at the form drawing near, she recognized it, and +said quickly, with a deep sigh of relief, "Oh, Dorothy!" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, Mary—is that you?" The speaker came closer and asked eagerly, +"Are those our own men down there on the shore, and was it the boat +they were signalling with the curlew's cry?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, and the boat is nigh in. But whatever have you been up to, Dot, +and who was the man you went off with, and where is he now?" +</P> + +<P> +To this fusillade of questions Dorothy only replied with a laugh. Then +she asked in turn, "Where is Johnnie Strings?" +</P> + +<P> +"No one knows," Mary answered. "'T is old Doak down there with the +men." And she added with a little impatience, "But why don't you tell +me, Dot—what has become of that man?" +</P> + +<P> +Dorothy laughed once more. "I have been locking him away, out of +mischief; and now he's as safe as if he had stopped where he belonged, +instead of coming to prowl about here at this hour of the night. It +was the Britisher, Mary,—the same one who gave us such a turn this +morning. He mistook me for my own brother, and I improved the chance +to lead him away by the nose." +</P> + +<P> +"But how?" Mary asked in astonishment. "What do you mean by all this, +and what have you done with him?" +</P> + +<P> +"I made him think that I could show him somewhat of importance to his +cause; and so I lured him up into father's new cattle-shed, in the +ten-acre lot, and I bolted him in there safely enough, unless he should +manage to break the bar that holds the door. I could not lock it, for +Trent has the key; but I should think the bar was strong enough to hold +the door—at least until the arms be safely landed and stowed away." +</P> + +<P> +"Then he was all alone?" Mary inquired, still too full of anxiety to +make any present comment upon Dot's exploit. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, all alone." +</P> + +<P> +"What did he say to you?" +</P> + +<P> +"Say!" Dorothy exclaimed with a little laugh. "Oh, he said a good many +things. He spoke most glibly of Mistress Dorothy Devereux; and he told +me that if I'd say my name was the same as hers, he'd go away, and not +inspect more closely the goings on he had overseen, and which he +admitted were not to his liking." +</P> + +<P> +"Dot!" And Mary's tone was distinctly reproachful. +</P> + +<P> +"Well," almost defiantly, "he did say all that, and more too." +</P> + +<P> +"But," asked Mary, "did he not find you out—that you were a girl +masquerading in boy's apparel?" +</P> + +<P> +"Not he," with another laugh. "And I trust he never will, after the +hoydenish manner of speech I thought it best to use in keeping up my +character. He took me for a young brother of Mistress Dorothy +Devereux, I tell you." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," Mary said musingly, as if to herself, "and I pray no harm may +come of it." +</P> + +<P> +"Harm!" Dorothy exclaimed, quick in her own justification. "What harm +can come of it? I take it as a most lucky thing that I was able to get +him out of the way. Had I not done so, then you might have had +something to say about harm." +</P> + +<P> +"He would have been taken prisoner by our men, had he stayed about +here," Mary asserted confidently, "and would have been shot, had he +made any disturbance. And that would have been just what he deserved." +Her usually gentle voice sounded unnaturally hard. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, Mary," her friend cried, regardless of who might be within +hearing, "how can you speak so harshly—and he such a handsome young +gallant?" +</P> + +<P> +"What is it to us, whether he be handsome or ill-favored?" was Mary's +sharp retort. "What interest have you in him?" +</P> + +<P> +"I should be sorry if he were hurt." And Dorothy's tone was almost +tender by comparison with that of her companion. +</P> + +<P> +"Shame on you, Dot!" Mary said in a low voice, but quite fiercely. +"How can you talk so, and he a hateful Britisher?" +</P> + +<P> +But before Dorothy could reply, the sound of a boat's keel grating on +the sand turned their thoughts to different matters. +</P> + +<P> +"They are in!" exclaimed Dot, exultantly. "And safe!" +</P> + +<P> +"Aye—safe so far," Mary murmured. She was still uncomfortable, and +suspicious of some danger lurking in the darkness about them. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap15"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XV +</H3> + +<P> +The men were gathered around the boat, shutting it away from the two +girls; and the moon's light, now grown silvery, was touching the group +in a way to make all their movements visible. +</P> + +<P> +"Mary," said Dorothy, "do you go to the beach and ask Jack to come here +to me. I must tell him somewhat; and then let us go to the house." +And Mary, nothing loath, complied at once. +</P> + +<P> +A few of the men were rapidly removing the arms and powder, which were +well wrapped in oilskins; and two sailors from the "Pearl" were +waiting, ready to pull out again the instant the cargo was landed. +</P> + +<P> +Another boat, similarly laden, was approaching the beach; and near it, +in a dory by himself, was the missing pedler. +</P> + +<P> +Upon escaping from Southorn, he had betaken himself to the causeway, +dragged one of the Devereux dories across from Riverhead Beach to the +open sea on the other side, and then set out to find the incoming boats +and report the recent occurrence. +</P> + +<P> +This he had done successfully; and John Devereux, now standing among +the men and conversing, with Doak, knew nearly all there was to be +told, while Hugh Knollys was coming in with the second boatload. +</P> + +<P> +So intent was the young man upon what was going on about him that he +did not see Mary until she had spoken to him; but at sound of her low +voice he turned quickly and came toward her. +</P> + +<P> +There was sufficient light for her to see the eager gladness in his +face as he stood before her, his broad-brimmed hat in his hand, and the +curling locks blowing riotously about his brows. +</P> + +<P> +"Mary," was all he said; but his voice was filled with something she +had never heard there before. +</P> + +<P> +"Dorothy wishes to speak with you at once," she replied, the faint +light giving her courage to keep her eyes upraised to his, for his +voice and manner made her heart tremulous. +</P> + +<P> +He drew her hand within his arm, and as they turned away from the shore +his other hand stole up and clasped the small soft fingers that rested +so lightly upon his sleeve; and he felt them tremble as his own closed +more tightly about them. +</P> + +<P> +"Mary," he said once more, and she lifted her face to meet the eyes she +felt were bent upon it. +</P> + +<P> +His face was shadowed by his hat-brim; but she could feel his heart +beating against the arm he pressed closely to his side, and she could +hear how hard and fast he was breathing. +</P> + +<P> +Making no answer, she only looked at him, until without a word he bent +his head and kissed her. +</P> + +<P> +"Why, John!" and her voice was well-nigh choked by mingled +embarrassment and joy. "Dorothy will see you." +</P> + +<P> +"Aye," he said stoutly; "and I hope she may, and all else in the world +see me doing a like thing many times." +</P> + +<P> +They had now come to a halt, and he said impetuously: "I cannot wait +another minute, sweetheart, to tell you that I love you; only you +surely knew it long ago. But what I do not know, and must know at +once, is whether my love is returned." +</P> + +<P> +Her only answer was, "Dorothy is near,—just behind these rocks; come +and speak to her first." +</P> + +<P> +"Not one step will I go until you tell me what I ask," he declared +firmly. "I have spoken to your father; and I have his consent and +blessing, if you will listen to me. So," pleadingly, "tell me, +Mary—sweetheart; tell me, do you love me well enough to be my wife?" +</P> + +<P> +A softly breathed "Yes" stole to his ears as Mary bent her head down on +his arm. But he raised the glowing face in his hands, and looked a +long moment at what he saw revealed by the faint light of the stars. +</P> + +<P> +Then, with a fervent "Thank God!" he bent once more, and laid his lips +on hers; and without another word they passed quickly over the few +yards to the rock-pile, where a boyish figure stood whistling. +</P> + +<P> +John Devereux started back and exclaimed, "Where is Dorothy? I thought +she was here." +</P> + +<P> +"I <I>am</I> here, Jack, awaiting your pleasure," a saucy voice replied; and +Mary felt her cheeks burn, for something in Dorothy's tone told her +that her own precious secret was known. +</P> + +<P> +"Dorothy, what is the meaning of all this?" her brother asked, giving +her the full name, and trying to speak with severity. All that Johnnie +Strings had told him was of a boy tossing the lanterns over the rocks, +as indeed the pedler supposed to be the fact. +</P> + +<P> +"See here, Jack," she said earnestly, "don't scold me now. You can do +it just as well to-morrow, and Mary and I wish to get to the house. +But before I go I must tell you there is a certain gentleman locked in +the new shed, in the ten-acre lot; and when the powder and arms are +safe, you had best get him out." +</P> + +<P> +"Who put him there?" he asked in amazement. +</P> + +<P> +"I did," was the answer. +</P> + +<P> +"You, Dot—what for?" +</P> + +<P> +"To keep him from finding out what you had rather he did not know. +Only you must promise not to let him be hurt, and that you will release +him as soon as you unfasten the door." +</P> + +<P> +"Who is he—do you know?" And he did not speak so good-naturedly as +his sister would have liked. +</P> + +<P> +"He is a redcoat,—one of the soldiers quartered over on the Neck," +said Mary Broughton, now speaking for the first time. "He came upon +Dot and me at the Sachem's Cave this morning, and he has been prowling +about the place to-night. 'T was he who surprised Johnnie Strings, and +caused Dot to put out the signal-lights." +</P> + +<P> +Mary spoke with animation, almost anger, for she felt a bit indignant +at Dorothy's apparent lack of what she herself considered to be a +proper view of the affair. +</P> + +<P> +"Aha," muttered her lover, his voice full of sharp suspicion. "Did +this man hold much converse with you this morning, Mary?" +</P> + +<P> +"No, very little," she replied uneasily; and Dorothy added with a +laugh,— +</P> + +<P> +"I fancy he had a bit more than he enjoyed." +</P> + +<P> +"Johnnie Strings told me of your frightening a Britisher so that he +nearly tumbled into the sea," John said, speaking in an approving way. +"And so this is the same fellow, is he? But how comes it, Dot, that +you found the chance to lock him away?" +</P> + +<P> +"'T is a long story," his sister replied, with a touch of petulance, +"and Mary and I must get back to the house. Only,"—and her voice +softened again—"won't you promise me, Jack, that you will not permit +him to be injured? I could never sleep again if I thought I was the +cause of any ill befalling him." +</P> + +<P> +She was almost in tears; and knowing this, her brother hastened to say, +"There, there, Dot! You've too tender a heart, child. But your mind +may rest easy, for I myself will let the man out as soon as 't is +prudent to do so. He shall go his way for this once, but I'll not +promise as to what may befall should he see fit to repeat such a bit of +business." +</P> + +<P> +The moon was rising higher, and its light becoming clearer and more +silvery. The boats were unloaded, and the sailors were pulling them +back to the ship, when the girls saw Hugh Knollys coming toward them +from the beach; and at sight of him they turned to flee. +</P> + +<P> +"I must go to the house with you two, Mary;" and John Devereux laid a +detaining hand upon her arm, bidding Dorothy wait a moment. +</P> + +<P> +"No need for that," she said quickly, fearing that Hugh might accompany +them; "we are not afraid." +</P> + +<P> +But John called out to Knollys,—speaking very carefully, for it still +seemed as though each rock or bush might be concealing a spying +enemy—asking him to go to the Black Hole in charge of the men, as he +himself must first hurry to the house, to rejoin them later. +</P> + +<P> +Hugh turned back, and the three took their way through the woods, +Dorothy keeping ahead and the others walking closely together just +behind her. +</P> + +<P> +"Mary," John said presently, and his voice was tremulous as a woman's, +"I can scarcely believe it." +</P> + +<P> +"Hush!" she whispered warningly. +</P> + +<P> +But pressing her hand, he said, "Dot knows all about it." And he +laughed softly, while Mary's cheeks burned, and she was silent. +</P> + +<P> +Then he added: "You see, I have been under such a strain, so filled +with anxious thoughts, that I well-nigh lost my senses when I landed on +the beach, and knew you were near me, and heard your voice. Then, +afterwards, I was so shocked by Dot's prank when I came upon her by the +rocks, that it is just coming to me what the child has done. It was a +brave deed; and but for her doing it, who can say what might have +happened—brave little girl!" +</P> + +<P> +The slight figure was too far ahead of their lagging footsteps to be +reached by his words. Indeed they could not see her at all through the +gloom of the woods, although they could hear now and again her light +footfall, or the cracking of a twig as she stepped upon it. +</P> + +<P> +"She thinks you are displeased with her prank," Mary said, "and I'm +sure she feels very unhappy about it." +</P> + +<P> +"She shall not feel so very long," he replied heartily. +</P> + +<P> +They found her waiting for them at the back door of the house, ready to +put the key into the lock. But before she could do this her brother +put his arms about her and kissed her fondly. +</P> + +<P> +"Brave little girl!" he whispered. "'T is you who have saved the arms +and powder for the town." +</P> + +<P> +To his amazement she burst into tears and clung to him, sobbing and +trembling like a child. +</P> + +<P> +"Why, Dot, whatever is it?" he asked anxiously, lowering his voice so +as not to arouse the inmates of the house. +</P> + +<P> +"She is suffering from a reaction, I think," Mary said softly; "but it +will soon pass away." +</P> + +<P> +But Dorothy was of too dauntless a spirit for her brother to be content +with this explanation; and holding her close in his arms, he went on +assuring her that he was not displeased, but that she had done a brave +act, and that every one would say the same if the news of it should get +abroad. +</P> + +<P> +"You must hush your sobs," he said, "and go within, and to bed, where +you should have been hours ago. I will find Hugh Knollys, and we'll go +together and release your prisoner." +</P> + +<P> +All this, whispered in her ear while her face was buried over his +heart, quieted her at last; and she drew herself away from him as she +said with a hysterical little laugh, "Think of the picture I am making +for Mary,—a big boy crying in your arms!" +</P> + +<P> +"You should have been a boy, Dot," he whispered, while she was opening +the door; "you've a heart brave enough to do credit to any man." +</P> + +<P> +"And, pray, may not women lay claim to having brave hearts?" queried +Mary Broughton, with dignified coquetry. +</P> + +<P> +"Aye, most truly; I should say you and Dot had proved that already. +And now, good-night, sweetheart." And to Mary's consternation, he +leaned over and kissed her, hurrying away as she hastily followed +Dorothy into the house. +</P> + +<P> +No word was spoken as the two girls felt their way cautiously through +the pitchy darkness to their rooms above stairs. +</P> + +<P> +The two apartments communicated; and the front windows of each +overlooked the meadow lands and woods, together with a far-reaching +expanse of the sea. +</P> + +<P> +Aunt Penine's, as well as Aunt Lettice's and little 'Bitha's, rooms +were in the wing of the house, on the opposite side; while those of +Joseph Devereux were far to the front, and looked out directly upon the +grounds and wooded land that ran down to the beach, where the water +stretched away to the horizon. +</P> + +<P> +They went directly to Dorothy's chamber; and it was so bright with the +moonlight now pouring through the unshuttered windows that they needed +no candle. +</P> + +<P> +As soon as the door was closed, Mary said, "Dorothy, I have somewhat to +tell you." And she put her arms lovingly about the boyish form, while +the solemn tenderness of her tone bespoke what she had to reveal. +</P> + +<P> +"You've no need to tell," replied Dorothy, speaking in a way to so +disconcert Mary that she said uneasily,— +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, Dot, I thought you'd be glad it was so." +</P> + +<P> +At this, Dorothy threw her arms impulsively around the other girl's +neck. +</P> + +<P> +"I am glad, Mary," she exclaimed; "I am very, very glad. Only, I knew +long ago that you and Jack loved one another." Then, as she hugged her +closer, "But you won't love me less for what has befallen?" +</P> + +<P> +Her voice sounded as though the tears were coming again. +</P> + +<P> +Mary tightened her hold upon the slight form, and kissed the upturned +face upon which the moonbeams were resting. +</P> + +<P> +"Love you less, Dot?" she declared; "it only makes me love you far more +than before; and I have always loved you very dearly, as you well know." +</P> + +<P> +"And I want to be loved, Mary! I feel so lonely!" And now she was +crying once more. +</P> + +<P> +"Why, Dot," Mary asked, almost in alarm, "whatever ails you, crying +twice in the one evening? I scarce know what to think of you." +</P> + +<P> +"I wish I could see my father," Dorothy sobbed; "I wish I could see him +this minute. He always knows me and understands me, no matter what I +do or say." +</P> + +<P> +"You are just worn out, poor child," said Mary, in a soothing, motherly +fashion; "and no wonder, with all you've gone through this night. And +now," she added with decision, "I shall put you straight to bed, this +very minute. I want to go myself, but cannot until you become quiet." +</P> + +<P> +With this she began tugging at the fastenings of the unfamiliar +garments; and Dorothy, despite her tears, commenced to laugh, but in a +nervous, unnatural way. +</P> + +<P> +"Never mind," she said; "I will do all that, Mary, for I understand it +better than you. And," straightening herself, "I'll stop crying. I +never knew I could be such a fool." +</P> + +<P> +Long after Mary was sleeping, Dorothy was still lying awake listening +for her brother's return. She knew she would hear him, for his room +was just across the hall, opposite her own. +</P> + +<P> +As she nestled among the lavender-scented pillows, visions would keep +coming to her of the handsome face she had seen that morning, and again +that very night. The purple-hued eyes, edged so thickly with swart +curling lashes, seemed to be looking into her own, as when she held his +wounded head pillowed against her knee, while his voice yet thrilled in +her ears as had never any man's before. +</P> + +<P> +And then came the realization that this man was her country's avowed +enemy,—a hated Britisher! +</P> + +<P> +Her conscience smote her as she thought of the trick she had played +him, recalling how trustingly he had entered the dark shed, and how +silent he had been at first, when she slammed the door and shot the +wooden bar across. Then how fiercely he had seemed to fling his broad +shoulders against the door of his prison, making her fear that he would +be able to come forth and visit his wrath upon the audacious young +rebel who had served him such a trick. +</P> + +<P> +But she could find some comfort in thinking of how she had stolen back, +and called him by name, at which the blows became stilled; and of how +she had then told him to have no fear for his safety, as in a short +time he would be released, to go where he pleased. +</P> + +<P> +Mary, did she but know all these thoughts, would be angry, and call her +unfaithful to the cause. And Jack, and her father—what would her +father say to her? +</P> + +<P> +She had never in her life feared him. But now a quaking dread beset +her as to what the morrow might bring from him of censure and +displeasure. And at this she began to cry again—softly, but bitterly. +</P> + +<P> +Whether the girl knew it or not, her nerves had by this time become +strained to the uttermost; and sleep, the blessed healer that comes so +readily to the young and healthful, was beginning to woo her away from +all her troubles, when a slight noise startled her into new wakefulness. +</P> + +<P> +Listening intently, she heard her brother enter his room; and she heard +him say something to their father, who was passing on toward his own +apartments. +</P> + +<P> +Rising hastily, Dorothy thrust her little bare feet into some wool +slippers and drew a bed-gown over her night-dress; then she stole +softly across the passage to her brother's room. +</P> + +<P> +The door was ajar; and after tapping gently, she put up her small hands +to shield her eyes from the glare of the candle he held, as he came to +answer her summons, looking wonderingly out to see who it might be. +</P> + +<P> +"Dorothy!" he exclaimed, as he saw the little yellow-robed figure, and +the rumpled curls and drooping face. Then, stretching out his hand, he +drew her within the room and closed the door. +</P> + +<P> +"Dot, why are you not asleep at this hour? You will surely make +yourself ill." He crossed over to a small table and set down the heavy +silver candlestick, the light flaring in his weary, but always handsome +face, now looking all the darker from contrast with his snowy +linen—for he was in his shirt-sleeves. +</P> + +<P> +He came to her once more; and as she did not speak, he took her hands +from before her face and held them lovingly. "What is it, child—what +is troubling you?" +</P> + +<P> +"Mary has told me, Jack, and I wanted to tell you that I am glad." And +two great tears stole from her long lashes and ran down the rounded +cheeks, whose bloom was paler than he had ever seen it. +</P> + +<P> +"And is that the face you wear, Dot, when you are joyful?" he asked +gently, but with a smile. "What is it, child?" he urged, as she did +not speak. "I am so happy to-night, and I cannot bear to see you in +tears; it hurts me." +</P> + +<P> +"Ah, no, Jack," she cried, throwing her arms around his neck. "I don't +want to hurt you." +</P> + +<P> +He held her fast, and laid his cheek against her own, as he said +softly: "Is it that you are jealous of me, or of—Mary? Is it that you +think I cannot love her and love you as well?" +</P> + +<P> +"No, no! Oh, no! It is n't that, Jack. I know you love me, and will +always, as long as I live—just as I love you. I am happy to have Mary +for my own sister; but I—I—" And she broke down again. +</P> + +<P> +"Now see here, little girl," he said, stroking the round white arm her +fallen-back sleeve left bare; "don't fret in your heart about to-night, +or whatever you may have done. It is never any use to worry over what +is past and gone. 'T is not a maidenly act, Dot, for a girl to array +herself in men's garments, and you must never do it again. But we must +all admit that 't was a lucky thing you did it this night; and the help +you rendered us far more than makes up for your own thoughtlessness. +So you need fear no blame on account of it." +</P> + +<P> +"Does father know?" she asked nervously. +</P> + +<P> +"Not as yet; but I will tell him the whole story of your bravery, so +he'll not misjudge you." +</P> + +<P> +She raised her face and kissed him; then after a little hesitation she +asked shyly, "And the Britisher I locked in the shed,—did you release +him, as you said you would?" +</P> + +<P> +Jack smiled down into the upturned face. "He was gone when Hugh and I +got there; and the bar was wrenched off, sockets and all." +</P> + +<P> +"He is strong," Dorothy said, a light coming to her eyes that her +brother did not see; and she laughed softly. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, had he the strength of Samson, he'd best take heed to himself +how he comes prowling about my father's premises at unseemly hours." +</P> + +<P> +He spoke with angry emphasis; and Dorothy was glad the two had not met. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap16"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XVI +</H3> + +<P> +The men of the house breakfasted at the usual hour next morning, and +with them were only Aunt Lettice and 'Bitha, Mary Broughton and Dorothy +being permitted to sleep until later, when 'Bitha, despatched by her +grandmother, went to arouse them. +</P> + +<P> +She first awoke Dorothy by kissing her; then she asked with childish +solicitude, "Why do you lie abed so late, Cousin Dot,—are you ill?" +</P> + +<P> +The big dark eyes gazed at the child in bewilderment, and then came a +flash of recollection. +</P> + +<P> +"Ill—no. Where is Mary, and why are you here, 'Bitha?" +</P> + +<P> +"Mary is still asleep, and grandame sent me to wake both of you." Then +she looked curiously at the carelessly heaped up masculine garb on a +nearby chair, and asked, "Are those Cousin Jack's clothes, Dot, and why +did he leave them here?" +</P> + +<P> +Dorothy's color deepened. "Never mind, now, 'Bitha," she said hastily, +"but go and awaken Mary; then run back to Aunt Lettice, and say we will +be down directly. But stop—where is every one—have you breakfasted +yet?" +</P> + +<P> +The child laughed. "Long ago," she said. "Cousin Jack and Hugh +Knollys have gone off to town on horseback, and Uncle Joseph is away on +the farm somewhere." +</P> + +<P> +Dorothy's movements were lacking in their usual youthful vitality as +she moved listlessly about the room. She stood in front of her +mahogany dressing-case, looking into the tipped-over mirror,—that only +in this way could reflect the face and head surmounting her in no wise +average height—and was brushing out the tangle of curly locks, when +Mary Broughton came into the room, her hair hanging about her like a +veil of gold, reaching almost to her knees. +</P> + +<P> +"Good-morning, Dot," she said smilingly. "You were so quiet that I +thought you were yet sleeping." And she turned to go back to her own +apartment. +</P> + +<P> +But Dorothy called out: "Don't go yet! Oh! Mary, do you know I am +dreading so to go downstairs and meet my father. I wonder if he will +be angry at what I did last night? He was never angry with me in all +my life." And she turned her troubled eyes away from the glass, for +which indeed she seemed to have little use, so slight was the note she +was taking of the reflection it showed. +</P> + +<P> +"I hope not," Mary replied, but her voice had a touch of doubt, "for he +would surely be angry with me as well, for abetting you in what you +did. But you remember what Jack said last night; would not your father +take the same view of the matter?" +</P> + +<P> +The color deepened in her cheeks as she spoke her lover's name; and +this seemed to bring a new recollection to Dorothy. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, Mary," she cried, "I'd clean forgot, for the moment, all that has +befallen." With this she rushed impetuously across the room and caught +Mary about the neck. The latter blushed redder than before, while she +laughingly disengaged Dorothy's arms. Then urging her to hurry and +dress, she hastened back to her own room. +</P> + +<P> +The two girls had finished breakfast and were out on the porch in front +of the house, when the hearty tones of Joseph Devereux were heard +within, asking Tamson, the red-cheeked housemaid, after her young +mistress. +</P> + +<P> +"Here I am, father," answered a low, agitated voice; and Dorothy stood +before him, looking quite pale, and with eyes downcast. +</P> + +<P> +"Come with me, my daughter," he commanded, and led the way into the +library. +</P> + +<P> +He closed the door after them, and seated himself, while Dorothy +remained standing, her hands loosely clasped and her eyes still bent on +the floor, her attitude being much like that of a culprit before a +judge. +</P> + +<P> +"Come here, child," and his voice was a trifle unsteady. "Why do you +stand there and look so strangely?" +</P> + +<P> +For answer, she sank upon her knees before him and laid her face in his +lap; and a grateful thrill went through her as she felt his fingers +stroking her curly head in his usual loving fashion. +</P> + +<P> +"Ye madcap!" he exclaimed after a short silence. "Whatever possessed +ye?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, father, don't be angry with me!" +</P> + +<P> +At this, he leaned over, and drawing her into his arms, lifted her to +his knee. +</P> + +<P> +"Angry with you, my little Dot!" he said. "My precious, brave little +girl, how could I be that, except it were for your risking so +carelessly the life that is so dear to my old heart?" +</P> + +<P> +All the sternness of his face had given place to an expression of +loving pride. +</P> + +<P> +"One cannot censure an eagle, my baby," he went on,—"that it be not +born a barnyard fowl or a weak pigeon. It would seem that a higher +power than of poor mortality must have put it into your head and heart +to do what you did last night. And I've no word of blame for your +having togged yourself out in Jack's clothes. Many a heroine has done +a like thing before you. If Joan of Arc had been more like most +womenfolk, no doubt many would have reckoned her more properly behaved, +according to the laws laid down by men for the behavior o' women. But +who dare question the bravery and unselfishness of her deeds? And you, +my baby, were our Joan of Arc last night!" +</P> + +<P> +All this was balm to her troubled heart. But she could not speak, and +only hugged him more tightly around the neck as she wept on his +shoulder. +</P> + +<P> +"Here—hoity toity!" he said presently. "What manner o' bravery be +this—crying for naught?" +</P> + +<P> +She raised her head, but before she could reply, they were both +startled by a noisy trampling of horses in front of the house, and +strange voices coming in through the open windows. +</P> + +<P> +Hastily wiping away her tears, Dorothy sprang from her father's lap and +ran to look out. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, father," she cried, turning to him in dismay, "here be a lot of +British soldiers on horseback! Whatever can they have come for?" +</P> + +<P> +He hurried out, Dorothy close by his side, to meet face to face at the +open door a tall young officer coming up the steps with much clanking +of sabre and jingling of spurs, while on the driveway were a dozen +mounted troopers, one of whom held the rein of a spirited gray horse. +</P> + +<P> +The officer raised his hat, and his sea-blue eyes, keen as steel, +looked with smiling fearlessness straight into the lowering face of +Joseph Devereux. Then they changed like a flash, and with swift +significance, as they fell upon the slight figure shrinking close +beside him. +</P> + +<P> +"Sir," he asked, "are you Joseph Devereux?" +</P> + +<P> +"As you say," was the calm reply. "And what might an officer of His +Majesty's army want with me?" +</P> + +<P> +"Only an audience," the young man answered respectfully. "I wish to +assure you, in case of its being needful, of my good will, and of my +desire to see that your person and property are guarded from annoyance +during our stay in your neighborhood." +</P> + +<P> +The old man frowned, and drew his tall figure to its full height. +</P> + +<P> +"It would seem a strange chance," he replied haughtily, "that should +put such a notion into your mind, young sir. I've lived here as boy +and man these seventy years and more, and my fathers before me for well +beyond one hundred years; and I 've needed no protection o' my own +rights save such as God and my own townsfolk have accorded me as my +just due." +</P> + +<P> +"Such may have been the case before now, sir," the officer said, his +eyes still fixed upon Dorothy's blushing face; "but troublesome times, +such as these, have brought changes that should, methinks, make you +take a somewhat different view of matters." +</P> + +<P> +"The times may be troublesome, as you say; but even should they grow +more so, I have my country's cause too truly at heart to desire favors +from its enemies." +</P> + +<P> +"I am an enemy only should you determine to make me one; and this I +trust you will not." He still smiled pleasantly, as though bent upon +accomplishing whatever object he had in view. +</P> + +<P> +"The color o' the coat you wear has determined that matter already," +was Joseph Devereux's grim answer. +</P> + +<P> +But the young man was proof against even this pointed rebuff, for he +laughed, and said with reckless gayety, "Think you not, sir, 't is a +bit unjust to refuse good fellowship to a man because of the color of +his garb?" +</P> + +<P> +"A truce to this nonsense, young sir!" exclaimed the old man, his +impatience rapidly changing to anger. "Since you are about my premises +in the manner you are, 't is certain you can in no wise be ignorant o' +reasons existing which make it needless for me to say that I desire +naught to do with you, nor your fellows." +</P> + +<P> +The officer bowed, and with a slight shrug of his broad shoulders, +resumed his hat. +</P> + +<P> +"So be it, sir," he said, while the smile left his olive-hued face, +"although I deeply regret your decision. But before I go, I must have +speech with a young son of yours." +</P> + +<P> +Dorothy moved still closer to her father, and turned a troubled look up +into his face. +</P> + +<P> +"My son, sir," he answered stiffly, "is not at home." +</P> + +<P> +"No? Then pray tell me where I am like to find him." +</P> + +<P> +"He has gone to the town on affairs of his own." +</P> + +<P> +"They are like to be affairs of great weight." The young man's voice +had a note of sarcasm. +</P> + +<P> +"Whatever they be, they can assuredly be no concern of an officer o' +the King." +</P> + +<P> +"That is for me to decide, sir," the soldier retorted with evidently +rising anger. "He has done that which gives me good cause to put him +in irons, should I choose to be vengeful." +</P> + +<P> +"What mean ye?" the old man demanded with flashing eyes. +</P> + +<P> +"I mean," replied the other, slowly, "he shall be taught that he cannot +play boyish pranks upon His Majesty's officers with impunity." +</P> + +<P> +"It would seem you are better aware o' what you are prating of than am +I," said Joseph Devereux, now laying a reassuring hand over the small +one that had stolen tremblingly into his own. "As for my son playing +'boyish pranks,' as you say, he would scarcely be likely to turn back +to such things in his twenty-eighth year." +</P> + +<P> +"Do you mean me to understand that your son is so old as that?" was the +officer's surprised inquiry. +</P> + +<P> +"I care little of what your understanding may be," was the indifferent +reply; "but such is the fact." +</P> + +<P> +"And have you no other son—a young boy?" +</P> + +<P> +"I have not, as any one can tell you." +</P> + +<P> +The young man bit his lips, and looked perplexed. Then, as his eyes +turned to Dorothy's flushed face, he smiled again, and said, as though +addressing her, "I beg pardon for any seeming incivility; but there +would appear to be some mystery here." +</P> + +<P> +"No mystery, young man," answered Joseph Devereux, with unbending +severity, "save to wonder why you should come riding to our door in the +fashion you have, with a troop o' your fellows, when we have no liking +for the entertainment of any such company." +</P> + +<P> +The officer still smiled, but now sarcastically. "It can scarcely be +claimed that you have entertained me, sir. But since I find my +presence so disagreeable to you, I will bid you good-morning." +</P> + +<P> +He bowed haughtily to the old man, while his eyes still lingered upon +Dorothy's face. Then turning quickly, he strode down the steps, and +mounted his horse, the servants, who had gathered about, falling away +from before him. +</P> + +<P> +Mary Broughton and Aunt Lettice, who had been standing in the hall +listening to the colloquy, now came out to the porch and stood with the +others watching the scarlet-clad troop clatter noisily down the +driveway, following the rapid pace set by their youthful leader. +</P> + +<P> +John Devereux and Hugh Knollys, returning from the town, met them just +within the open gate, and drew to one side, watching them with scowling +brows as they dashed past; and the young officer turned in his saddle +to glance over his shoulder, as if something in the former's face had +caught his attention. +</P> + +<P> +"What did those Britishers want here, father?" the son asked, as he and +Hugh came up the steps, leaving their horses with Leet and Pashar. +</P> + +<P> +"He would seem to wish to assure us of his courtesy and good-will; and +when I declined these, he demanded to see my son, whom he accused of +playing a boyish prank upon a King's officer, and threatened him with +irons, should he catch the rogue." +</P> + +<P> +All eyes were now turned upon Dorothy, who laid her blushing face +against her father's arm as she stood clasping it. +</P> + +<P> +Jack muttered something under his breath; and Hugh, his face alight +with mischief, said, "May his search take up all the attention of +himself and his soldiers, which will be all the better for us." Then +stretching out his hand to Dorothy, he said with a sudden change of +manner, "Will you shake hands, Dorothy?" +</P> + +<P> +"What for?" she asked, still clinging to her father's arm. +</P> + +<P> +"As my way of thanking you that I am a free man this morning, and not, +perchance, in irons myself, and on the road to the Governor, at Salem." +</P> + +<P> +She laid her small hand in his broad palm, and the look he gave her as +his fingers closed over it seemed to make her uncomfortable. +</P> + +<P> +"It was very little I did," she declared quietly, drawing her hand away. +</P> + +<P> +"So it may seem to you," he said gravely. "But had it not been done, +the things that might have followed would show you otherwise." +</P> + +<P> +In the afternoon the four young people set out to ride over to Hugh's +place, where a widowed mother was anxiously expecting the arrival of +her boy—and only child. +</P> + +<P> +Jack, for reasons now well understood, kept close to Mary's +bridle-rein; so it befell that Dorothy and Hugh were thrown upon one +another's society more intimately than for some time heretofore. +</P> + +<P> +As they rode leisurely along the Salem turnpike toward their +destination, which lay away from the town, the young man exclaimed +suddenly, "I don't believe another girl living would dare do such a +thing, Dorothy, as you did last night!" +</P> + +<P> +"Do cease prattling of last night," she said impatiently. "I am sick +to death hearing of it." +</P> + +<P> +"Are you?" And Hugh's laughing eyes widened with sober surprise. "I +see no call for you to be so." +</P> + +<P> +"I did not ask that you should," was the tart answer, a wilful toss of +her head accompanying the sharp words. +</P> + +<P> +"Why, Dorothy, whatever ails you?" And he looked more surprised than +hurt at this new phase of his quondam playfellow's disposition. +</P> + +<P> +She did not reply; and Hugh, seeing a glitter of tears in her eyes, +said nothing more. +</P> + +<P> +And so they plodded along in utter silence; the two ahead of them +seeming to find no need for haste, and conversing earnestly, as though +greatly entertained by each other's company. +</P> + +<P> +The thickly planted cornfields rose on either side of their way, and +the afternoon sun flickered the landscape with fleeting shadows from +the clouds sailing in the blue overhead, while now and again there came +a glimpse of the sea. +</P> + +<P> +Everything about them was quiet, save the breathing of the horses and +the noise of their trappings. +</P> + +<P> +At length, coming within sight of the Knollys homestead, the two in +front drew rein and waited for their companions to join them. +</P> + +<P> +Dorothy gave the impatient mare her head, and rode up briskly, with +Hugh not far behind; and then all four went clattering through the gate +and up the grass-grown roadway, halting before the porch of the low +frame house that stood surrounded by thickly planted fields running +back to meet sloping wooded hills, with grassy meadows intervening, +where flocks of sheep and many cows were grazing peacefully. +</P> + +<P> +A sweet-faced old lady—Hugh's mother—came out of the door and greeted +them cordially, but first casting a searching glance at her son. Then +bidding a servant take their horses to the stable, she invited them to +come within. +</P> + +<P> +But Hugh said: "No, mother; Sam need not take the horses away. We can +stop but a short time, and then I must go back to remain in town for +the night. I only rode over—and these kind folk with me—to see how +you were faring without having me to look after matters, and to assure +you of my well being; for I know how you like to fret if I stop away +long enough to give you the chance." +</P> + +<P> +"You are a saucy boy," his mother replied, but with a look that belied +her words; then turning to the two girls, she asked after their +fathers, and inquired particularly about each member of their +households. +</P> + +<P> +She listened eagerly to the news of the town, and its latest doings; +the color, fresh as a girl's, coming and going in her cheeks, and +making a dainty contrast with the snowy muslin of her mob-cap and the +kerchief wound about her throat and crossed over her ample bust. +</P> + +<P> +"And have any of these red-coated gallants stolen their way to the +hearts of you two girls?" she asked banteringly,—her eyes upon Mary +Broughton's beautiful face. +</P> + +<P> +Jack's eyes were there as well; and Hugh alone saw the sudden mounting +of the blood to Dorothy's cheeks and the troubled drooping of her +eyelids. +</P> + +<P> +John Devereux rose from his chair, and taking Mary's hand, led her to +the old lady. +</P> + +<P> +"I am that one, good Mistress Knollys," he said proudly, "who has +stolen his way to this sweet girl's true heart; and you are the first, +outside the family, to know of it." +</P> + +<P> +"Dearie me!" exclaimed Mistress Knollys, in a happy fluttered way, as +she drew Mary's blushing face down and gave her a hearty kiss. "I +always suspected it would be so; and I am sure every one will wish you +joy, as I do with all my heart." Then turning to her son, "Hugh, dear, +get some wine and cake, and let us pledge our dear friends. With all +these Britishers bringing trouble upon us, who can say how much chance +there'll be left for joyful doings?" +</P> + +<P> +She bustled about with a beaming face, doing herself most of the +setting forth she had requested of her son. But Hugh's face looked far +graver than was its wont; his eyes strayed over to Dorothy, who was now +laughing and chatting like the rest, and he seemed to be puzzling over +a matter for which he could not find a ready solution. +</P> + +<P> +It was later than they thought when they set out upon their return, +Mistress Knollys urging them to come again soon, and saying, as she +kissed Dorothy last of all: "It ever makes me feel young again, my dear +child, to have you in the house. And now that your brother and Mary +have one another, and your father has one more daughter, they can spare +you to your old friend with better grace." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap17"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XVII +</H3> + +<P> +The air was yet chill with the fresh north-wind, that had blown all +day, to go down only with the sun, while the misty horizon of the +afternoon was now a well-defined fog-bank rolling in from over the sea, +and sending a damp breath in advance of its own coming. +</P> + +<P> +"We shall have a nasty night," said Hugh, looking at the smoke-like +wall. He and Dorothy were again riding side by side, with the other +two just ahead, but out of ear-shot, and they were making a short +detour across the fields, their course taking them past the Jameson +place. +</P> + +<P> +It was a pretentious-looking house, painted white, with green blinds; +and a broad piazza was set back amid the fluted columns that ran up to +support the upper floor, whose dormer windows jutted out among the +branches of the oak and elm trees. On the piazza, were several +scarlet-coated gentry. +</P> + +<P> +"Enjoying himself, no doubt, with rogues of his own ilk," was John +Devereux's comment, as he looked over his shoulder at Hugh,—the two +now being quite close to one another. +</P> + +<P> +"There might be a thousand rather than a hundred of the redcoats at the +Neck, by the way they seem to be ever turning up about the place," Hugh +muttered in reply, without taking the trouble to look toward the house. +</P> + +<P> +"And here come some more," announced Mary, in a tone of disgust, as +half-a-dozen scarlet coats appeared suddenly in the field before them. +</P> + +<P> +They were riding at a reckless pace which soon brought them abreast of +the four, who were now taking their way quite soberly. And as they +swept past, the officer in the rear doffed his hat, while he bent his +eyes upon Dorothy's flushed face with an intensity that made Hugh +Knollys say half aloud, "The impudent young dog—what does he mean?" +</P> + +<P> +Mary Broughton sat rigidly in her saddle, turning her head away at +sight of the face disclosed by the uplifted hat. But Dorothy smiled +shyly into the bright, daring eyes. +</P> + +<P> +A little farther along they came upon three fishermen trudging the same +way as they were bound, one of them being young Bait, whose attempt at +singing had brought upon him Doak's wrath the night before. +</P> + +<P> +"Jameson be givin' a dinner to some o' the redcoats," he said, as the +riders overtook him and his companions, one of whom added angrily,— +</P> + +<P> +"An' he best have a care that he don't get his roof burnt over him an' +his d——d King's friends." +</P> + +<P> +"Have a care yourself, man," said John Devereux, warningly. "'T is not +wise to do aught yet that will give them a handle to use for our own +hurt." +</P> + +<P> +"Aye," muttered the third, "that may do for now. But if Jameson don't +go with his own sort when they leave the place, it may not be so easy +for him as it has been in the past." +</P> + +<P> +"How long, think ye, Master John, afore the redcoats quit the Neck?" +inquired Bait. +</P> + +<P> +"That were a hard matter for any one to say," was the young man's +reply. Then, as he urged his horse forward, he turned to add over his +shoulder, "But take my advice, and avoid any brawling with the +soldiers, for the present, should you run foul of them." +</P> + +<P> +"That will have to be as it may," one of the men answered doggedly, +"accordin' as to how they mind their own affairs and let us alone." +</P> + +<P> +"We shall come to have fighting in our streets yet, Jack; you may be +sure of it," said Hugh Knollys. "Our men can never brook with any +patience the swaggering of these impudent fellows." +</P> + +<P> +The other glanced at him warningly, with a significant motion of the +head toward Dorothy; but the girl did not appear to notice their talk, +and was looking dreamingly away into the distance. +</P> + +<P> +Mary Broughton, who was slightly in advance, turned her head; and Hugh +saw how her blue eyes were kindling as she exclaimed, "I, for one, +should not care if we <I>did</I> come to blows! I'd like to see our men +show the Britishers that they cannot have matters altogether their own +way down here." +</P> + +<P> +"Would you like to take a gun yourself, Mary, and help teach them this +lesson?" was Hugh's laughing question. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," she declared resolutely. "And I am sure I could handle it, too." +</P> + +<P> +"You'll never need to do that, sweetheart, so long as I live to carry +out your mind," said Jack, who had been wondering why Hugh looked at +Dorothy so oddly, and why she was so strangely silent. +</P> + +<P> +When the early evening meal was over that night, the two young men took +their way into the town, where a meeting was to be held. +</P> + +<P> +Old Leet rowed them down, they preferring this as being least likely to +attract notice; and avoiding the old wharf, they landed on the beach, +near the warehouses, thence taking their way cautiously through the +fish-flakes that filled the fields, until they reached the streets up +in the town. These were deserted, but filled with lurking shadows, +being dimly lit by a stray lamp fastened here and there to the +buildings. +</P> + +<P> +They walked slowly toward the town hall, while they talked in low tones +of Jameson, making no doubt but that his attentions and hospitality to +the Britishers would be known and commented upon at the meeting. +</P> + +<P> +When close to the hall a wild clamor broke out from somewhere ahead of +them; and they hurried forward to learn what it might mean. +</P> + +<P> +It was a street fight between the redcoats and the townspeople; and +although no powder was being used, strong arms and hard fists were +doing almost as painful work. +</P> + +<P> +The British frigate "Lively" had dropped anchor in the harbor at +sunset, and as soon as darkness came, a press-gang had been sent on +shore to capture such sturdy fishermen as might be abroad, and impress +them into the service of His Majesty's navy. +</P> + +<P> +Several men had already been taken, and they were resisting most +lustily, while such of their friends as chanced to be in the streets +were coming to their rescue. +</P> + +<P> +But these were few in number, as most of the citizens who were not at +their homes were now gathered in the town hall, awaiting the opening of +the meeting, which was to be of more than usual importance, as measures +were to be taken with respect to the new tyranny indicated by the +presence of soldiers quartered upon the Neck. +</P> + +<P> +While the two young men paused on a street corner overlooking the +combatants, hesitating as to what might be the best thing for them to +do, the light from a house over the way shone down upon one figure, as +though singling it out from the others. +</P> + +<P> +It was that of a swarthy, strongly built young fellow, taller than most +of those about him, and with a bright, resolute face. Hatless, and in +his shirt-sleeves, he was raining heavy blows upon such of the enemy as +sought to lay hands on him. +</P> + +<P> +"'T is Jem Mugford!" exclaimed Hugh. "See, Jack, what a gallant fight +he is making for himself!" +</P> + +<P> +Mugford was well known in the town, and was already, despite his youth, +the captain of a merchant vessel. He had been but recently married; +and Jack and Hugh recalled the sunny morning when they saw him, looking +so handsome and happy, alongside the pretty girl he had just taken for +his wife. +</P> + +<P> +They both, moved by the same impulse, now made a dash toward him; but +the surging crowd—of friends and foes alike—came between in a way to +frustrate their intention. Then, while they were still struggling to +reach him, there went up a loud, angry shout bristling with vigorous +oaths: "They've got Jem! They've got him an' carried him off! Squael +'em, squael 'em!"[<A NAME="chap17fn1text"></A><A HREF="#chap17fn1">1</A>] +</P> + +<BR> + +<P CLASS="footnote"> +<A NAME="chap17fn1"></A> +[<A HREF="#chap17fn1text">1</A>] "Rock them!" i.e. "Throw rocks at them!" +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +The cries and tumult were deafening; and the dark mass rolled slowly +down the street, leaving the young men almost alone. +</P> + +<P> +"'T is an outrage!" exclaimed Hugh Knollys, panting from his unavailing +exertions. "We need all of us to carry guns to guard against such +dastardly work. What will his poor wife do, and her father, now that +they'll not have Jem to look to for support and defence?" +</P> + +<P> +"I take it she will not lack for good defenders," answered Jack, his +voice trembling with anger, "not so long as you and I live in the town, +to say naught of his other friends. With the enemy in our harbor, and +amongst us in the very town, the quicker we arm the better, say I. Let +us go first to see Mistress Mugford, and then we'll go to the hall." +</P> + +<P> +But Hugh held back, for he had a wholesome dread of women's tears and +hysterics. +</P> + +<P> +"There will be plenty to tell her the bad news, poor soul," he said; +"and women, too, who will know best how to console and comfort her." +</P> + +<P> +Jack saw the force of this, and did not press the matter; so they took +their way to the town hall, which was already crowded, although its +tightly shuttered windows gave no sign of the life within. The door +was strongly barred, and only opened to the new-comers after they had +satisfied the sentinel on guard of their right to be admitted. +</P> + +<P> +Gray heads and brown were there, the old and the young, representing +the best blood of the town. And there was a generous sprinkling of +weather-beaten and stout-hearted sailors and fishermen, who listened +silently, with grave faces and eager eyes, to all that was said. +</P> + +<P> +The talk was for the most part a review of matters considered at former +meetings, to the effect that Parliament, being a body wherein no member +represented the colonies, had yet undertaken the making of laws +affecting not only the property, but the liberty and lives of His +Majesty's American subjects—it was argued that such right did not +exist, nor any authority to annul or in any manner alter the charter of +the Province, nor to interfere with its councillors, justices, +sheriffs, or jurors. +</P> + +<P> +The matter of the British soldiers being quartered upon the Neck was +also taken up, and with it the outrage committed that very evening by +the press-gang; and in view of these attacks upon the peace of the town +it was deemed wise to push forward at once the measures already +agitated looking to protection and safety. +</P> + +<P> +The fort was to be repaired, and put in condition for proper defence. +The militia consisted at this time of a regiment of seven companies of +active, well-disciplined men, but under the command of officers +commissioned by Governor Gage or his predecessors. It was deemed +expedient that these should no longer act, but that they should be +replaced by others chosen by vote of the town. And every citizen +should possess himself of a firearm and bayonet, both in good order, +and should be equipped with thirty rounds of cartridges and ball, as +well as a pouch and knapsack. +</P> + +<P> +It was also resolved that effectual measures be taken for the +silencing, or expulsion from the community, of those "ministerial tools +and Jacobites," who persisted in opposing the action of the various +committees, or else held themselves aloof from taking part in the +measures needful to protect the rights of the Province and people. +</P> + +<P> +These men who thus spoke and conferred with each other were an +impressive embodiment of the spirit which actuated the entire +community. Their looks and words were glowing with prayerful +earnestness, their manner full of dignity and solemnity. +</P> + +<P> +The memory of these,—of their lofty ideality of aspiration, of the +purity of their principles and motives, their love of country and +integrity of purpose,—all this is a sacred treasure for the old town, +and one still potent with patriotic influence. +</P> + +<P> +Theirs was not the courage that shows forth in bravado, and which +delights, from mere exuberance of spirit, in defying peril for its own +sake. Rather was it the true, deeper courage of devotion,—the courage +that sacrificed self for others, and which for principle and what was +deemed simple duty was ready to endure all things. It was the devotion +that would accept all results, would meet death, if needs be, or wear +life away in slow suffering. +</P> + +<P> +Such courage was the solid material, not the flash and glitter that +pleases and bewilders, and then is as unremembered as is the pebble a +child tosses into the sea, and having watched the ripple it makes, +never thinks of again. +</P> + +<P> +All this has become the priceless jewel of our national history for all +time, the salt that gives savor to our country's life. The keynote of +it was this,—these men truly loved their country, and were its loyal, +steadfast friends. And are we not told from the highest of all high +sources that "Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down +his life for his friends"? +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap18"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XVIII +</H3> + +<P> +It was nearly midnight when the two young men took their way back +through the fields to their boat and its faithful guardian. +</P> + +<P> +They were soon afloat, and none but Leet would have ventured to row so +steadily and rapidly down Great Bay in the fog that now shut in about +them like a wall of white wool, muffling all objects from sight. +</P> + +<P> +The stillness was intense, save for the lapping of the water on the +near-by shore,—this seeming to quicken the old darkey's acute +knowledge of the course he was rowing. +</P> + +<P> +The young men sat in either end of the boat, with Leet between them; +and not a word was spoken until the keel grated on the sand of +Riverhead Beach. +</P> + +<P> +The old negro required no light to secure the craft in its accustomed +place; and as the others stood waiting for him to do this, a faint +sound of galloping horses came to their cars, apparently from down +Devereux Lane, which led from the Salem road directly to the beach, and +so on to the Neck. +</P> + +<P> +They listened intently, while the sound came unmistakably nearer. +</P> + +<P> +"Hist, Jack!" said Hugh, in a low voice; "that must be the redcoats +coming from Jameson's dinner." +</P> + +<P> +"'T is sure to be, judging from the reckless fashion of their riding. +Leet, come with us,—'t is as well to step behind the boathouse until +they pass, for we want no challenging at this hour of the night." And +as John Devereux said this, he and his companions passed quickly behind +the small building. +</P> + +<P> +A dull yellow gleam showed smearingly through the fog as the horsemen +clattered by, with here and there a lantern fastened to their saddles; +and their loud laughter and boisterous talk seemed to bespeak a free +indulgence in good wines and liquors. +</P> + +<P> +As they struck the beach they fell into a more sober pace, and the last +two, riding side by side, were talking in tones that came distinctly to +the ears of those concealed behind the boathouse. +</P> + +<P> +"'T is like that Southorn hopes to obtain more certain information by +accepting the old fellow's hospitality," said one of them; "for it +cannot be that the wine is the only attraction, to judge from the way +he passed it by to-night." +</P> + +<P> +"Aye," was the reply. "He seemed not to care whether it were good +Christian fare we were having once more, or the dogs' food of the camp." +</P> + +<P> +"Maybe he is sickened, like the rest of us, with this heathen land and +its folk, and rues the day he ever left the only country fit for a man +to live in, to be sent to this strip o' land, with never a petticoat or +bright eye to make the stupid time a little more bearable." +</P> + +<P> +The other man laughed. "Perchance if we could but get speech with +Jameson's fair friend of whom he prated so much, we might be singing +another tune. What was it he called her—such a heathenish name it was +never my lot to hear before?" +</P> + +<P> +"He called her 'Mistress Penine;' but she is no blushing maid, for he +said—" +</P> + +<P> +Here the words, which had been growing less distinct, died away +altogether, and the glow of the lanterns was shut off by the fog, as +the clattering of hoofs became lost in the roar of the surf beating in +from the seaward side. +</P> + +<P> +John Devereux had refrained from acquainting Hugh with his father's +discovery of Aunt Penine's treachery; but now, as they walked toward +the house, he told him the facts. +</P> + +<P> +"Think you, Jack, that she has been holding any further communication +with Jameson?" Hugh asked. +</P> + +<P> +"That would seem most unlikely, for she has been confined to her room +since last Monday night, and both my father and Dot have been watchful +of the servants, although I do not believe there is a traitor amongst +them. As to Pashar, he is too young to rightfully sense what he was +doing, even if he had the wit. Fear of Aunt Penine on the one hand, +and a liking for Jameson's loose silver on the other, were his only +incentives; but dread of my father's displeasure has now put an end to +all that." +</P> + +<P> +He had persuaded Hugh to return with him for the night, instead of +going to the house of a married cousin living in the town, as he +proposed doing, for the reason that it would put him so much farther on +the way to his own place, whither he intended to ride the next morning, +notwithstanding it would be the Sabbath. +</P> + +<P> +They found the household long since retired, save only its head; and +when they were seated in the dining-room the young men gave him a +detailed account of the evening's doings. +</P> + +<P> +When this had been done, Joseph Devereux imparted to them his +determination to lodge with the committee the name of his +sister-in-law, to be listed with those of the other unfaithful +townspeople. He had also resolved that on the following Monday she +should be carried in his coach to her brother's house, in Lynn, for a +future residence. +</P> + +<P> +This had come from the fact that soon after the two young men had +departed for the town, a messenger from Jameson brought her a +communication. +</P> + +<P> +The fellow had refused to leave without a reply, until forced thereto +by the servants whom Joseph Devereux summoned for that purpose; and he +went away threatening vengeance upon the entire household when he +should have reported to his master the indignity to which he had been +subjected. +</P> + +<P> +"Do you know, father," asked Jack, "what it was to which he expected an +answer from Aunt Penine—I mean, anything as to the contents of the +letter?" +</P> + +<P> +"Nay, my boy. She refused to see me at first; and when I insisted upon +it, she became defiant, and would not converse with me o' the matter, +saying that it was her own concern, and naught to do with my business. +And so I told her that, such being the case, she should hold herself in +readiness to be driven to her brother's house on Monday, when she and +her concerns would give no further trouble to me or my household." +</P> + +<P> +"Jameson will not be safe a moment," said Hugh Knollys, "after the +redcoats are withdrawn. Indeed," he added, "'t would be no great +wonder if some of the fisherfolk should even now burn the roof over his +head." +</P> + +<P> +"'T is to be hoped they'll do no such thing," said the elder man, +shaking his head; "for 'twould surely be used as a pretence for +injuring the innocent,—perchance the townsfolk at large." +</P> + +<P> +He now turned to his son and said in a tone of deep anxiety: "By the +way, Jack, we must see to it that all be over-careful how such matters +be talked on before Dot. I know not what has come to the child. She +has been moody and unlike herself all the evening, starting at every +sound, as if fearful o' danger. And when she came to tell me +good-night awhile ago, she broke down in great weeping. I had much ado +to soothe her; and to all my questioning she had but the one answer, +that she did not know what ailed her, only that she felt as though her +heart would break." +</P> + +<P> +Jack looked very serious, and Hugh Knollys moved uneasily in his chair. +Then the former said: "Perhaps it is only that she is in a way unstrung +from the excitement of last night. I thought this afternoon that she +acted not quite like herself,—that she seemed to have something on her +mind. Did you not note it, Hugh?" +</P> + +<P> +Hugh started, and looked still more uncomfortable. His thoughts had +been dwelling upon Dorothy's unusual behavior during the afternoon. He +was thinking of her reticence and impatience,—of the acerbity of her +manner toward himself; and he recalled the quick flushing of her face +as the young officer lifted his hat. +</P> + +<P> +All this had made a distinct impression upon him; but the affair was +her own,—one which he felt reluctant to mention even to her father or +brother. And so, in answer to Jack's direct question, he uttered one +of the few falsehoods of his life. +</P> + +<P> +"Nay, Jack; I noted nothing unusual in her manner. I think as you, +that she has been a bit overwrought by last night's happenings. Ah," +he exclaimed, with animation, and glad to speak the truth once more, +"but it was a brave thing she did! And yet she likes to make naught of +it." +</P> + +<P> +"Dorothy is brave by nature," her father said, his eye's kindling with +pride. "And she is too young to comprehend the full weight o' what she +did, prompted as it was by impulse, and by love for her brother." Then +turning to Jack, he asked with a change of manner, "Did you see or hear +aught o' the British frigate on your way home?" +</P> + +<P> +"Nothing, father,—only, as I told you, that she dropped anchor in +Little Harbor, just as the darkness fell." +</P> + +<P> +"She'd not be likely to go from her anchorage in this fog." The old +man spoke musingly, while he slowly filled his pipe for a final smoke +before retiring for the night. +</P> + +<P> +"But I take it they will move from there as soon as may be, on account +of fearing the trouble they have a right to expect because of the men +they've stolen," Hugh said indignantly. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," added Jack, "even if only to get into Great Bay, and closer to +their fellows on the Neck." +</P> + +<P> +"'T is a thousand pities they should have taken Mugford," the old +gentleman remarked, as he carefully lit his pipe. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," his son assented; "it is in every way a pity, for if they wish +to invite trouble they could not have made a better opening for ill +feeling among the people of the town." +</P> + +<P> +"Indeed they could not," Hugh exclaimed hotly. "Every one is sure to +take Mugford's abduction to heart, and find a way to make the redcoats +answer for it." +</P> + +<P> +"We shall find a way, please God, to make them all answer for their +overbearing and insolence to us as a country as well as individuals," +Joseph Devereux said gravely. "And that reminds me, I had surely +thought Broughton and the rest o' the committee would have returned +from Boston this night." +</P> + +<P> +"He was very doubtful, as I think, of getting back before to-morrow, or +perhaps until Monday." And a dreamy look softened Jack's face, as if +he might be thinking of what was to be told when Nicholson Broughton +returned. +</P> + +<P> +"Jack, what a lucky beggar you are!" exclaimed Hugh, with a touch of +envy in his tone, as the two young men tarried a moment in the former's +room before saying good-night. +</P> + +<P> +Jack opened his eyes still wider, exactly after the fashion of Dorothy +when she was surprised. +</P> + +<P> +"You see," Hugh added nervously, "you love Mary Broughton, and she +loves you, and you have the approval and blessing of both fathers. Now +I—" Here he stammered, and then became silent. +</P> + +<P> +"What is it, Hugh—do you wish me to understand that you love Mary +yourself?" +</P> + +<P> +John Devereux spoke seriously, almost jealously, for an old suspicion +was beginning to awaken once more within him. +</P> + +<P> +But Hugh laughed in a way to forever remove any such feeling from his +friend's mind. +</P> + +<P> +"I—I love Mary!" he exclaimed. "I never dreamed of such a thing, +Jack, although I admit that she is very beautiful, and possesses +everything to call forth any man's best and deepest love. But, my dear +Jack, if you were not blinded, you might see that the world holds other +girls than Mary." And he looked wistfully at his friend, as if wishing +him to know something he hesitated to put into words. +</P> + +<P> +"Do you mean that you are in love with some one, Hugh?" asked Jack, +laying his hand on the other's broad shoulder. +</P> + +<P> +Hugh's blue eyes lowered as bashfully as those of a girl, and Jack, now +smiling at him, said, "Who is it—Polly Chine, over at the Fountain +Inn?" +</P> + +<P> +"Polly Chine!" Hugh answered disgustedly. "A great strapping +red-cheeked clatter-tongue, who can do naught but laugh?" +</P> + +<P> +"Well, if 't is not Polly, then I am all at sea, for I never knew you +to do more than speak to another girl, unless—" And he paused, as +something in Hugh's pleading eyes caught his attention and awoke his +senses with a rush. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, Hugh—it surely is not—" But Knollys interrupted him. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, Jack," he said with slow earnestness, "it is—Dorothy." +</P> + +<P> +Silence followed this avowal, and Jack's hand fell from his friend's +shoulder. Then with an incredulous laugh he said: "Dorothy—why she is +little more than a baby, with no thought beyond her horse and other +pets. 'T was not long since I came upon her playing at dolls with +little 'Bitha." +</P> + +<P> +"She will be seventeen her next birthday," Hugh retorted with some +impatience; "and that is but a year less than Mary Broughton's age." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," Jack admitted. "But it is several months yet to Dot's birthday; +and those months, nor yet another year, can scarce give to my little +sister the womanly depth for sentiment and suffering that Mary now +possesses." +</P> + +<P> +"Think ye so, Jack?" said Hugh, as though inclined to argue the matter. +"You know 't is odd, sometimes, how little we guess aright the nature +of those akin to us, however dear we may love them." +</P> + +<P> +The young man sighed as he thought of the look he caught in Dorothy's +eyes when the olive-faced horseman uncovered his handsome head, and +also recalled the flushing of her cheeks at his mother's banter. +</P> + +<P> +Jack's hand was now once more upon Hugh's shoulder, and he said in his +warm, impulsive way: "See here, old fellow, I'd sooner have you for a +brother than any other man I know; and my father is well-nigh certain +to approve. Only I feel sure he would say what I now ask of you, and +that is, not to speak of such matters to little Dot—not yet awhile; +for it would only risk making her think of what otherwise might never +come into that wilful head of hers. And while there seem to be such +grave matters gathering for our attention, it were best not to give her +heart aught to trouble over." +</P> + +<P> +"Then you admit she might be woman enough to take to heart whatever ill +would come to me?" Hugh asked eagerly. +</P> + +<P> +Jack's answer was guarded, although not lacking in kindly feeling. +</P> + +<P> +"The child has a warm heart, Hugh, and has known you long enough to +feel deep sorrow should any evil come to you—which God forbid. But +take my advice, and do not stir deeper thought in her, to make her +sorrow like a woman, but let her keep her child's heart awhile longer." +</P> + +<P> +After the young men had bidden each other more than a usually cordial +good-night, Hugh Knollys remained seated for a long time in his own +room, his hands deep in his pockets, and his legs stretched to their +uttermost length. He was lost in thoughts that were neither entirely +pleasurable nor yet altogether lacking in that quality. +</P> + +<P> +He had loved Dorothy since she was a child, and he admired her +character far more than that of any girl he had ever known. The +reckless daring of her nature—the trait Aunt Penine had censured so +severely, and which the others of the family regarded somewhat +askance—met with a quick sympathy from his own impulsive temperament; +and this last outburst of her intrepid spirit had acted like a torch to +set aflame all his dreams and desires. And now the suspicion that some +sort of an understanding existed between the girl and this young +Britisher gave him a fierce desire to speak out, and claim for his own +that which he feared the other man might seek to take from him. +</P> + +<P> +And so he chafed at his friend's injunction, hoping as he did, that, +could he but obtain the first hearing, the redcoat's chances might be +weakened, if not destroyed altogether. +</P> + +<P> +As he sat here alone, there came to him like a flash the memory of one +late afternoon in a long-ago autumn, when, upon his return from a +fishing-trip, he found Dorothy—then a dimpled mite of seven or +eight—visiting his mother, as she often did in those days. +</P> + +<P> +The child had been left to amuse herself alone; and this she did by +taking down a powder-horn hanging upon the wall, filled with some +cherished bullets which Hugh was hoarding as priceless treasures. +</P> + +<P> +He seemed to see again the great dark room, lit only by the leaping +flames from the logs piled in the open fireplace, and the little +scarlet-clad child looking up with big startled eyes at his indignant +face as he stood in the doorway, while the precious bullets poured in a +rattling shower over the wooden' floor. He saw once more her look turn +to fiery anger, as he strode over and boxed her ears; and he could hear +the girlish treble crying, "Wait, Hugh Knollys, until I am as big as +you, and I'll hurt you sorely for that!" +</P> + +<P> +Aye, and she had already hurt him sorely, for all his breadth of +shoulder and length of limb; she had hurt him in a way to make all his +life a bitter sorrow should she now reject his love! +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap19"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XIX +</H3> + +<P> +October had come, with an unusual glory of late wild-flowers and +reddened leaves. +</P> + +<P> +The soldiers were still quartered upon the Neck, and owing to the many +collisions between them and the townspeople, the Governor had seen fit +to augment the force. Several times the citizens had almost determined +to march to the Neck and exterminate the entire body of Britishers; but +wiser counsels prevailed, and no attack was made. +</P> + +<P> +Governor Gage had issued a proclamation forbidding the assembling of +the legislature which had been called to meet at Salem upon the fifth +of the month. But notwithstanding this interdiction it had convened +upon the appointed day, and resolved itself into a Provincial Congress. +</P> + +<P> +Azar Orne, Jeremiah Lee, and Elbridge Gerry were the delegates +representing Marblehead, and they took a prominent part in the +proceedings. A number of important matters were discussed and acted +upon, and a committee was appointed for "Observation and Prevention," +and with instructions to "co-operate with other towns in the Province +for preventing any of the inhabitants, so disposed, from supplying the +English troops with labor, lumber, bricks, spars, or any other material +whatsoever, except such as humanity requires." +</P> + +<P> +The loyalists in the town were still zealous in the King's cause, and +would not be silenced. And they entreated their neighbors and friends +to recede, before it became too late, from the position they had taken. +But the only reply of the patriots was, "Death rather than submission!" +And they went on making provision for the organization of an army of +their own. +</P> + +<P> +Companies of "Minute Men" were enlisted, and these were disciplined and +equipped. A compensation of two shillings per day was to be allowed +each private; and to sergeants, drummers, fifers, and clerks, three +shillings each. First and second lieutenants were to receive four +shillings sixpence, and captains, five shillings. Pay was to be +allowed for but three days in each week, although a service of four +hours a day was required. +</P> + +<P> +The town house was now filled—as were also most of the warehouses and +other buildings—with the stored goods of Boston merchants, who were +suffering from the operation of the Port Bill, which had closed that +harbor to their business. And owing to this, as also by reason of the +greater advantage afforded for securing privacy, the townsmen now held +their meetings at the old tavern on Front Street, which faced the +water, thus giving a good opportunity for observing the movements of +the enemy upon the Neck. +</P> + +<P> +John Glover, one of the town's foremost men, and a stanch patriot, +lived near here; and he was now at the head of the regiment in which +were John Devereux and Hugh Knollys,—the former being second +lieutenant in the company of which Nicholson Broughton was captain, and +in whose ranks Hugh was serving as a private. +</P> + +<P> +Soon after his return from Boston, Broughton had closed his own house, +deeming it too much exposed to the enemy for the safety of his +daughter, who was compelled during his many absences to remain there +alone with the servants; and Mary had gone with them to the house of a +married aunt—Mistress Horton—living in a more retired portion of the +town, away from the water. +</P> + +<P> +He had consented, in response to the urging of his prospective +son-in-law, that the wedding should take place before the winter was +over. And thus it was that Mary, being busy with preparations for the +event, left Dorothy much to herself,—more, perhaps, than was well for +her at this particular time. +</P> + +<P> +Aunt Penine had departed upon the day her brother-in-law fixed; but +under Aunt Lettice's mild guidance, coupled with Tyntie's efficient +rule, the household went on fully as well as before,—better, indeed, +in many respects, for there was no opposing will to make discord. +</P> + +<P> +The tory Jameson still remained under an unburned roof, despite the +mutterings against him; and he continued to entertain the redcoats with +lavish hospitality. +</P> + +<P> +Several times, during trips to and from the Knollys house, Dorothy, +escorted by Hugh or her brother—sometimes by both—or by old Leet, had +encountered the young officer. But nothing more than a bow and smile +had passed between them since the morning he had turned so haughtily +from her father's presence. +</P> + +<P> +It was about the middle of the month, and the shutters of all the +windows were opened wide to let in the flood of autumn sunshine as the +family sat at breakfast; and the silver service in front of Aunt +Lettice glinted like little winking eyes where it caught the golden +flood. +</P> + +<P> +Her delicate white hands had poured out the sweetened hot milk and +water which she and 'Bitha drank in lieu of tea, while her +brother-in-law, busy with looking over a copy of the "Salem Gazette" +brought by his son the night before, was letting his coffee cool. +</P> + +<P> +Jack himself, after a hastily despatched breakfast, had already gone +into the town, where he had matters of importance to look after, not +the least of them being to dine at the Hortons' with Mary and her +father; and he would not return until late in the evening. +</P> + +<P> +Dorothy had little to say, seeming to be busy with her own thoughts; +but she could not help smiling as little 'Bitha murmured softly, "Oh, +grandame, I am all full of glory by now, for I caught a lot of sunshine +on my spoon and swallowed it." +</P> + +<P> +"And you'll be full of a mess, child, if you stir your porridge about +in such reckless fashion," said Aunt Lettice, smiling as her eyes met +Dorothy's. +</P> + +<P> +"Dot," her father now asked suddenly, lifting his eyes from the paper, +"when did you last see old Ruth Lecrow?" +</P> + +<P> +Dorothy started, and her big eyes turned to him with a troubled look as +she answered, "It is all of a month since I saw her." +</P> + +<P> +The girl's conscience smote her, as never before had she neglected for +so long a time to go and see the faithful carer of her own motherless +infancy, or else send needful provision for her impoverished old age. +</P> + +<P> +"A month!" her father repeated. "How is that, my child?" Then with a +searching, anxious look into her downcast face, he said more gently: +"You had best take Leet, and go to Ruth this very morning. The air and +sun be fine enough to bring back the roses to your cheeks. I am +thinking that you stop within doors too much o' late." +</P> + +<P> +Before Dorothy could reply, Aunt Lettice reminded him that Leet was to +meet Jack in the town that morning. +</P> + +<P> +"Then I will walk, father," the girl said, "and take Pashar." +</P> + +<P> +With this she arose from the table and was about to leave the room, +when 'Bitha put in a petition that she might accompany her. +</P> + +<P> +"No, 'Bitha," interposed her grandmother, "you made such a froach[<A NAME="chap19fn1text"></A><A HREF="#chap19fn1">1</A>] of +your sampler yesterday that you have it all to do over again this +morning, as you promised me." She spoke with gentle firmness, and the +child hung her head in silence. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P CLASS="footnote"> +<A NAME="chap19fn1"></A> +[<A HREF="#chap19fn1text">1</A>] Spoiled work. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +"Never mind, 'Bitha," Dorothy said soothingly, as she touched the small +blonde head,—"mayhap we can have Leet take us to see Mistress Knollys +this afternoon." +</P> + +<P> +"I'd sooner go on the water, Dot," the child suggested timidly. Then +turning to the head of the house, she asked: "Cannot we go out in one +of the boats, Uncle Joseph? We've not been on the water for a long +time." And the blue eyes were lifted pleadingly to the old gentleman, +who had just set down his emptied cup. +</P> + +<P> +"Nay, my child," he answered, "that you must not; and for the same +reason that none have been for so long a time. None o' ye must go nigh +the boats until the redcoats be gone from the Neck." +</P> + +<P> +"When will they go?" asked 'Bitha, pouting a little. "They have +spoiled our good times for long past. We cannot go anywhere as we +used." +</P> + +<P> +"Nor can others older than you, my child," he said with an unmirthful +smile, as he arose from the table. "The soldiers are a pest in the +town, little one. But till the King sees fit to call them off, or we +find a way to make them go, you must be content to stop nigh the house, +and away from the boats." Then he added teasingly, as he put his hand +upon her head, "The redcoats may carry you off, if you put yourself in +their way." +</P> + +<P> +'Bitha shook off his hand as she gave her small head a belligerent +toss. "If they tried to do that, Uncle Joseph, I'd push them over the +rocks, as Mary Broughton did that redcoat we met in the cave. And oh, +Dot,"—turning to her—"that 'minds me that the other day when I was +with Leet and Trent, down in the ten-acre lot, that same redcoat was +there, sitting in the door of the shed, with his horse standing nigh. +And when he saw us coming, he hurried away. And Trent said 't was +lucky no sheep were within the shed for him to steal." +</P> + +<P> +"He is a gentleman, 'Bitha, and would no more steal my father's sheep +than would you or I!" +</P> + +<P> +Dorothy's voice was full of indignation, and the child's eyes opened +wide at its unusual sharpness. But this, as well as her heightened +color, her father and Aunt Lettice ascribed to embarrassment at being +reminded of her exploit of the past summer. +</P> + +<P> +All the outside world lay flooded in the warm golden sunshine that +blunted the cold edge of the wind rushing from the north, where sullen +cloud-banks were piling up in a way to threaten a change of weather +before night. The sea lay a floor of molten silver and burnished +steel, and the crows called incessantly from the woods. +</P> + +<P> +Dorothy chose to take a short cut across the fields to old Ruth's +abode; and while skirting the ten-acre lot, she cast a furtive glance +toward the large shed, as if expecting to see a scarlet coat in the +doorway. +</P> + +<P> +But only the homespun-clad form of Trent was there, letting out a large +flock of sheep, who came gambolling about him, and then dispersed over +the dry brown grass, where a bright green patch showed here and there. +</P> + +<P> +"'T was queer, Mist'ess Dor'thy, dat we nebber foun' de two cows dat +strayed so long 'go, don't ye t'ink?" inquired Pashar, who followed +close behind her with a big basket on his arm. +</P> + +<P> +Dorothy, intent upon her own affairs, did not reply, and the boy went +on: "Trent say now dat he b'leebe de redcoats stole 'em, fo' sure." +</P> + +<P> +"How could that be," she asked sharply, "when the cows were missing +before any soldiers came down here?" +</P> + +<P> +"I dunno, Mist'ess—on'y dat's what Trent say, an' what we all b'leebe." +</P> + +<P> +Here Dorothy was startled by a wild, shrill yell from the boy, and +turned quickly to see the cause of it. The sheep had discovered a +broken place in the fence, and were trooping through it en masse; and +if once out of the field, there was nothing to bar their way to +Riverhead Beach. +</P> + +<P> +Trent had already started in pursuit, but it was easy to see that many +of the flock would be on the other side of the fence before he could +stop them. +</P> + +<P> +"Give me the basket," Dorothy said to the negro boy, "and go to help +Trent. Then come to Ruth's after me." +</P> + +<P> +She had scarcely spoken when he, giving her the basket, uttered another +wild yell and was off, speeding after the wayward sheep. He was soon +alongside Trent, who had stopped to put some bars across the opening, +at which the few detained animals were now poking with eager noses. +But these scattered quickly when Pashar, with renewed shouts, charged +through them and vaulted the fence, to dash away on the other side with +a speed that quickly carried him out of sight. +</P> + +<P> +Pursuing her way alone, Dorothy soon reached the Salem road, which she +crossed, climbing the stone walls on either side, and was again in a +narrow strip of pasture land ending in a wood, where the stillness was +broken only by the squirrels chattering overhead as though in fear of +the intruder. +</P> + +<P> +The sun sent its rays here and there across the paths that led in +different directions, all of them carpeted with needles from the tall +pine-trees standing amid the oaks and chestnuts; and the one Dorothy +pursued brought her soon to the summit of a small hill, where it took a +sharp turn, and then ran directly to a small, hut-like dwelling, about +the door of which grew a honeysuckle vine. +</P> + +<P> +In front of the house was what in the summer had been a flower-garden; +everything about it was neat, and the tiny panes of glass in the +unshuttered windows were spotlessly bright. +</P> + +<P> +Dorothy did not wait to knock, but opened the door, and was within the +living-room of the house, there being no hall. It was wide, and +low-ceilinged, with clumsy beams set upright against the walls, +bedimmed with age and smoke. Directly opposite the entrance was the +open hearth, back of which a sluggish fire was burning; and kneeling in +front of the logs was a girl of fourteen, working with a clumsy pair of +bellows to blow it into a brisker flame. +</P> + +<P> +She was so engrossed in her task as not to hear the door open, but +started quickly as Dorothy said, "Good-day, Abbie; how is your granny +this morning?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, Mistress Dorothy, how you scared me!" the girl cried, springing to +her feet, and showing, as she turned her head, a preternaturally old +and worried face. +</P> + +<P> +"Where is Ruth?" inquired the smiling intruder, who now put down the +heavy basket, and began to remove her cloak, whose hood had somewhat +disarranged the curls over which it was drawn. +</P> + +<P> +"Granny be in bed yet, for her rheumatiz be in her legs to-day, she +says. An' she was worritin' over ye, for fear ye might be ill. She +was sayin' last evenin' that I was to go over and inquire." +</P> + +<P> +Perfectly at home in the little house, Dorothy went straight to her old +nurse's bedroom, to find her propped up in bed, knitting, and with an +open Bible lying beside her on the snow-white counterpane. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, my lamb!" she exclaimed joyfully, catching sight of the sunny +face, that was soon bending over her, while the dim old eyes devoured +its every feature. "But I am glad to see ye, for I feared ye were ill, +for sure. An' what a lot o' sweet fresh ye bring about! It must be a +fine day outside. Ah," with a deep sigh, "if I could only get about as +I used to, my lamb!" The old woman's voice faltered, and the moisture +was showing in her eyes. +</P> + +<P> +"You will be well again, Ruth, when the winter gets fairly set," +Dorothy said cheerfully. "'T is the seasons changing that always make +you feel poorly." +</P> + +<P> +"Mayhap, mayhap," sighed the old woman. "But it seems only yesterday I +was runnin' about, a girl like ye, with no thought of ache or pain; an' +but another yesterday when I had ye, a little babe, in my arms. An' +here I be now, a crippled, useless old body, with only a poor +granddaughter, who has to do for me what I ought to be doin' for her. +An' here ye be, a fine grown young woman, ready to be married." +</P> + +<P> +Dorothy's laugh rang through the small room. "Not I, Ruth. I shall +always live with my father. And I am sure Abbie is glad to do all she +can for you." This last was with a kindly glance at the girl, who had +that moment slipped into the room to see if she might be wanted for +anything. +</P> + +<P> +She turned to Dorothy with a gratified look on her wan face, and said +with an attempt at heartiness: "Yes, Mistress Dorothy, that I am. Only +she be forever frettin', like I was the worst o' granddaughters to her." +</P> + +<P> +The old woman smiled at this, as she permitted the girl to raise her +shoulders a little, and shake up the pillows before leaving the room. +</P> + +<P> +As soon as she was gone, Dorothy said, "I brought you a basket of +things I hoped you wanted; and I'll not stop so long away from you +another time." +</P> + +<P> +"Aye, my lamb, but ye have stayed away a sore long time. But now that +ye're a young lady, ye've pleasanter folk to talk to than your old +nurse." +</P> + +<P> +"Now, Ruth," Dorothy threatened playfully, "if you talk to me in that +fashion, I'll go straight home again." +</P> + +<P> +The old eyes were turned upon her wistfully, while the knotted fingers +nervously handled the knitting-needles. Then Ruth said, "Moll Pitcher +was here yesterday to see me." +</P> + +<P> +"Was she? What did she say?" asked Dorothy, all in the same breath; +for she took the keenest interest in Moll and her talk. +</P> + +<P> +"I made her talk to me o' ye, my lamb. An' I was sorry for it +afterwards; for what she said kept me wakeful most o' the night. She +did not want to tell me, either; but I made her." +</P> + +<P> +"But what did she say?" Dorothy repeated eagerly. "Tell me just what +she said, Ruth." +</P> + +<P> +The old woman hesitated, as though unwilling to reply. Then her +restless fingers became quiet, and she said slowly and earnestly: "She +told me that your fate was about ye now, fast an' firm, an' that no one +could change it. An' she said your future days were tied about with a +scarlet color." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, Ruth," Dorothy said at once, "she must mean that war is coming to +us." She was entirely free from any self-consciousness, and her eyes +looked with earnest surprise into the solemn old face lying back upon +the pillows. But her color deepened as Ruth added still more +impressively: "Nay, my lamb, she told me o' war times to come, beside. +But she meant that a redcoat would steal your heart away; an' she said +that naught could change it,—that his heart was set to ye as the +flowers to the sunshine,—that ye held him to wind about your little +finger, as I wind my wool. An' she said that sorrow, deep sorrow, +would come to ye with it." +</P> + +<P> +Tears were now dropping down the withered cheeks, and Dorothy thought +her own were coming from sympathy with the grief of her old nurse. For +a moment—only a moment—she felt frightened and almost helpless, even +turning to glance quickly over her shoulder at the door of the outer +room, as if to see if the redcoat were already in pursuit of her. +</P> + +<P> +Then her own dauntless spirit asserted itself once more, and she +laughed with joyous disbelief. +</P> + +<P> +"Nonsense, Ruth,—nothing but nonsense! And don't you be fretting, and +making yourself unhappy over something that can never happen." +</P> + +<P> +"Moll always speaks truth, they say," the old woman insisted, wiping +her wet cheeks with the half-knit stocking. "But we'll see what time +will bring to ye, my lamb. Moll is a good woman. She gave me some +herbs for my ailment, an' was most kind to me. She stopped all night, +an' went on this morning, for her father be dead, an' she have gone to +Lynn to 'bide." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, I hope she'll stop there forever, before she comes to make you +fret again over such silly tales. You must use the herbs, Ruth, and +get well, so that you can dance at Jack's wedding. You know he and +Mary Broughton will be married near Christmas-tide." +</P> + +<P> +Ruth looked fondly at the girl. "I'd much sooner dance at your own, my +lamb, if ye married the right man." +</P> + +<P> +Dorothy laughed. "Can you tell me where to find him, Ruth,—did Moll +tell you where he was?" +</P> + +<P> +"Aye, that she did," was the quick reply. "An' she told me much I'd +best keep to myself. Only the part I told ye worrited me, an' so I had +to open my heart to ye. But I'll tell ye this,—keep all the redcoats +away from ye, my lamb; shun 'em as ye would snakes, an' trust only to +the true hearts nigh home. There be Master Hugh Knollys—he be most +fit for ye." +</P> + +<P> +Dorothy laughed again. "Hugh Knollys," she repeated. "Why, Ruth, he +is almost like my own brother. You must never speak of such a thing to +any one; for if it came to his ears I'd surely die of shame. I marry +Hugh Knollys! Why, Ruth, you must be crazy." +</P> + +<P> +"Ye might do far worse, my lamb." The old woman did not smile, and her +lips narrowed primly, as though she did not relish having the girl make +a jest of the matter lying so close to her own heart. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, worse or better, I am in no hurry to be married off, Ruth; and +so don't you have any such thought of me." And Dorothy shook her curly +head threateningly. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap20"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XX +</H3> + +<P> +Pashar had not yet appeared, but Dorothy set forth upon her return with +no thought of danger or delay. +</P> + +<P> +It was now high noon, and the sun making itself felt disagreeably, she +pushed back the hood of her red cloak as she entered the wood, the cool +wind coming refreshingly about her bared head while she walked slowly +along with downcast eyes, musing over this last prophecy of Moll +Pitcher. +</P> + +<P> +"Aha, Little Red Ridinghood, have you been, or are you going, to see +your grandmother?" +</P> + +<P> +Dorothy's heart throbbed tumultuously for an instant. Then she felt +cold and half sick, as she looked up and saw coming from under the +trees the gleam of a scarlet coat, topped by a shapely head and olive +face, whose dark-blue eyes were bent laughingly upon her. +</P> + +<P> +She stopped, startled and hesitating, not knowing what to do, while +Cornet Southorn came toward her along the path, his hat swinging from +one hand, the other holding a spray of purple asters. +</P> + +<P> +This he now raised to his forehead, saluting her in military fashion, +as he said with a touch of good-humored mockery, "Your servant, fair +mistress,—and will you accept my poor escort, to guard you from the +wolf who is waiting to eat Little Red Ridinghood?" +</P> + +<P> +A smile now began to dawn about the corners of the girl's mouth; but +she made an effort to keep it back, while she replied with an attempt +at severity, "There are no wolves about here, sir, to guard against, +save only such as wear coats of the color you have on." +</P> + +<P> +"If my coat makes me anything so fearsome in your eyes, I will discard +it forever." He had dropped his tone of playfulness, and now came a +step closer, looking down into her face in a way to make her feel +uneasy, and yet not entirely displeased. +</P> + +<P> +"I have no liking," she said, in the same bantering manner he had +assumed at first, "for those who so readily change the color of the +coat they are in honor bound to wear." +</P> + +<P> +"It was not an easy thing to contemplate until I met you," he replied +bluntly, and looking at her as if hoping for some approval of his +confession. +</P> + +<P> +This he failed to obtain, for Dorothy only smiled incredulously as she +asked, "Is it kind, think you, to credit me with so pernicious an +influence over His Majesty's officers?" +</P> + +<P> +"I credit you only with all that is sweetest and best in a woman," he +said with quick impulsiveness. And coming still nearer to her, he +dropped the flowers and seized one of her hands, while the basket fell +to the ground between them. +</P> + +<P> +"'T is small matter what you may or may not credit me with," she +answered, with a petulant toss of her head. "Leave go my hand this +minute, sir! See, you have made me drop my basket; let me pick it up, +and go my way." +</P> + +<P> +A sudden, curious glance now flashed from his eyes, and looking sharply +into her face, he said, "I thought that perhaps you would like me to go +with you, so that you might shut me up again in your father's +sheep-house." +</P> + +<P> +Dorothy ceased her efforts to withdraw her hands—for he now held both +of them—from his clasp, and stared up at him in affright. +</P> + +<P> +"Who told you I did?" she gasped. "Who said so?" +</P> + +<P> +The young man threw back his head and laughed exultingly. +</P> + +<P> +"Aha,—and so it was really you, you sweet little rebel! I was almost +certain of it, the morning I spoke to your father of the matter, and +saw the look that came into your eyes." +</P> + +<P> +"You are hateful!" she cried, her fear now giving place to anger. "Let +me go, I say,—let go my hands at once!" Her eyes were filled with hot +tears, and her cheeks were burning. +</P> + +<P> +"Never, while you ask me in such fashion." And he tightened his clasp +still more. "Listen to me!" he exclaimed passionately. "I have been +eating my heart out for dreary weeks because I could see no chance to +have speech with you. I felt that I could kill the men I've seen +riding with you about the country. And now that I have this +opportunity, I mean to make the most of it, for who can say when +another will come to me?" +</P> + +<P> +His words were drying her tears, as might a scorching wind; and she +stood mute, with drooping head. +</P> + +<P> +"Don't be angry with me for what I have said," he entreated, "nor +because I found it was you who played that trick upon me. That prank +of yours is the happiest thing I have to remember. You might lock me +up there every day, and I would only bless you for being close enough +to me to do it." +</P> + +<P> +He stopped and looked at her beseechingly. But she would not raise her +eyes, and stood pushing at the spray of asters with the tip of her +little buckled shoe, while she asked, "Think you I only find pleasure +in going about the country to lock folk up?" +</P> + +<P> +She spoke with perfect seriousness; and yet there was that in her look +and manner to make his heart give a great bound. +</P> + +<P> +"I think of nothing, care for nothing," he replied, almost impatiently, +"save that you are the sweetest little girl I ever met." +</P> + +<P> +Something in his voice made Dorothy glance up at his face, and she saw +his eyes bent upon her lips with a look that startled her into a fear +of what he might have in his mind to do. So, drawing herself up, she +said with all the dignity she could muster, "Such speech may perchance +be an English custom, sir; but 't is not such as gentlemen in our +country think proper to address to a girl they may chance upon, as you +have me." +</P> + +<P> +"Sweet Mistress Dorothy," and he seemed to dwell lovingly upon her +name, "I crave your pardon. I meant no lightness nor disrespect. And +if I have lost my head, and with it my manners, you have but to look +into your mirror, and you'll surely see why." +</P> + +<P> +Dorothy knew not how to reply to this bold speech, and the look that +came with it. They made her angry, and yet she knew that the flush +upon her cheeks did not come from anger alone, but that a certain +undefinable pleasure had much to do with it. Then came the +consciousness that she had no right to be where she was, and the fear +of danger coming from it. And this was sufficient to make her say with +some impatience: "'T is idle to stand here prating in such fashion. +Please release my hands, and let me go. I should be well on my way +home by now." +</P> + +<P> +He bent his head suddenly, and without a word kissed her hands. And +the burning touch of his lips made her pulses thrill and her heart beat +with what she knew to be delight,—exultation. +</P> + +<P> +Then, like a rushing flood, reason assailed her conscience, that she +should permit a hated redcoat—one whom she ought to detest—to kiss +her hands, and not feel enraged at his boldness. And so, filled with +indignation, she pulled one hand away, and raising it quickly, gave his +face a ringing slap. +</P> + +<P> +He started back and placed a hand to his cheek, now showing a more +flaming color than her own, and for a moment his eyes were alight with +an angry glitter. But he said nothing, and bowing low before her, +stood away from the path. +</P> + +<P> +Dorothy picked up her basket, and without glancing toward him passed +along on her way. But her eyes were brimming with tears, which were +soon trickling down her burning cheeks. +</P> + +<P> +What had she done, and what could she do, in this new, strange matter, +of which she might not speak to her father? How was she to act toward +him from whom she had never yet withheld her confidence? +</P> + +<P> +And still how could she speak to any one—even him—of what was giving +birth to thoughts and feelings such as she had never dreamed of before? +</P> + +<P> +With all this—and in spite of it—came the question as to what the +redcoat would think of her now,—a maiden who went about at night +masquerading in masculine garb, and who slapped His Majesty's officers +in the face? +</P> + +<P> +There came to her a woful sense of shame,—yes, of degradation, such as +her young life had never imagined could exist, and seeming to overwhelm +her with its possible results. +</P> + +<P> +She was startled by a sudden footfall close behind her, and without +looking back, she quickened her pace into a run. But now a strong arm +was thrown about her waist, holding her fast; and she caught a fiery +gleam of the scarlet coat against which her head was pressed by the +hand that, although it trembled a little, prisoned her cheek with +gentle firmness. +</P> + +<P> +Then a mouth was bent close to her ear, so close that its quick breath +fanned the tiny curling locks about her temples, and a voice whispered: +"Sweetheart, forgive me—for God's love, forgive me! I cannot let you +go in this way; for see, you are weeping. Surely this pretence of +anger is unjust,—unjust to you and to me!" +</P> + +<P> +Before she could speak, the voice went on, "Little rebel, sweet little +rebel, will you not surrender to—a vanquished victor?" And with this, +a kiss was pressed upon her lips. +</P> + +<P> +At first Dorothy had been too startled to speak,—too frightened and +dumb from the tumult his caressing voice had aroused within her. But +the touch of his lips awakened her like a blow. +</P> + +<P> +"How dare you?" she cried, struggling from his arms. "Oh, how I wish I +had never seen you!" +</P> + +<P> +"You can scarce expect me to feel likewise," he said calmly, smiling +into her stormy little face, "for I—" +</P> + +<P> +"Never speak to me again!" she interrupted, still more hotly. And +then, as the tears of anger choked her voice, she turned from him and +fled away down the path. +</P> + +<P> +For a time she heard him in pursuit; and this made her run all the +swifter, until at last, reaching the Salem road, she glanced back as +she mounted the low stone wall, and saw that he had stopped where the +timber ended, and stood watching her. Then without turning to look +again, she went quickly across the sunlit meadow-land. +</P> + +<P> +Her breath came sobbingly; and mingled with her terror was a feeling +she could not define, but which told her that life would never be the +same for her again. She still felt the clasp of his arms about her, +the burning of his lips upon her hands,—their pressure upon her mouth. +His voice still came caressingly to her ears, and the wind seemed to be +his breath over her hair. +</P> + +<P> +It was not long before she saw Pashar coming to meet her; and drawing +the hood about her face, she bade him go for the basket she had left in +the wood. Then, without waiting for him to return with it, she +hastened directly to her father's house. +</P> + +<P> +She reached her own room without having encountered any of the +household, and throwing off her cloak went to the glass. There, +resting her elbows on the low, broad shelf, and dropping her soft round +chin into her small palms, she seemed to be studying what the mirror +showed to her,—studying it with as much interest as though she now saw +the reflection of her features for the first time. +</P> + +<P> +"You are a wicked, treacherous girl," she said aloud, addressing the +charming face staring back at her with great solemn eyes, "a perfect +little traitor." Then—but now to herself—"Moll said his heart turned +toward me as the flowers to the sun. And if this be true, why is it +not also truth that sorrow is to come with it?" She shivered, and +pressed her hands over her eyes. +</P> + +<P> +"Cousin Dot!" called a small voice outside the locked door. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, 'Bitha." Dorothy started guiltily, and made haste to dash some +water over her glowing face and tell-tale eyes. +</P> + +<P> +"Aunt Lettice says the meal is ready," came the announcement from +without; "and Hugh Knollys is below with Uncle Joseph." +</P> + +<P> +Dorothy felt thankful for this, as a guest at dinner would serve the +better to divert attention from herself; and making a hasty toilette, +she descended to the dining-room. +</P> + +<P> +She found them all at the table, with Hugh at her father's right hand, +and directly opposite her own place. The young man arose as she +entered the room, and responded with his usual heartiness to the +greeting she tendered him. But with it all he gave her so odd a look +as to make her wonder if he saw aught amiss in her appearance. +</P> + +<P> +The two men resumed their talk of public matters and the town's doings, +and were soon so absorbed that Dorothy was able to remain as silent as +she could have wished. +</P> + +<P> +It had been resolved not to import, either directly or indirectly, any +goods from Great Britain or Ireland after the first of the coming +December. And in case the tyrannical decrees of the mother country +should not be repealed by the 10th of the following September, it was +agreed that no commodities whatever should be exported to Great +Britain, Ireland, or the British West Indies. +</P> + +<P> +This would bring about an embarrassing state of affairs for both the +men who were now discussing the matter, as they, like many others in +the town, had derived a considerable income from such exporting. +</P> + +<P> +"But we'll stand shoulder to shoulder, Hugh," said Joseph Devereux, +firmly, "if so be we forfeit every penny, until the oppressors give us +fair dealings or we drive every redcoat from our soil. I will kill +every cow and sheep—aye, and every horse as well, and cut down every +stick o' timber on my land, for the keeping of us and our friends fed +and warmed, but that I will maintain the stand I've pledged myself to +keep." +</P> + +<P> +"Let us hope, sir, that the redcoats will not first seize your cattle," +said Hugh, his eyes fixed gravely upon the abstracted young face +opposite him. "I met Trent as I was riding along the pastures, and he +told me the sheep had escaped through a broken place in the fence of +the ten-acre lot, and he had a chase after them to Riverhead Beach. He +said he met a party of soldiers there, and they deliberately took one +of the sheep from under his very nose, and carried it off with them to +the Neck. And when he remonstrated with them, they only laughed at +him, and told him to send the bill to the King for the dinner they +would have." +</P> + +<P> +The old man's eyes flashed with anger as he listened to this. +</P> + +<P> +"It is an outrage!" he exclaimed when Hugh had finished,—"to steal +stock under our very eyes. I must see Trent about the matter, and the +cattle must be kept nigh the house." +</P> + +<P> +"Why not take them by boatloads over to the islands till the redcoats +be gone, as has been done before, for pasturage?" The suggestion came +from Aunt Lettice, and was made rather timidly. +</P> + +<P> +"You were never cut out for a farmer's wife, Lettice, my dear," her +brother-in-law replied, a good-humored smile now breaking over his +face, "else you'd remember there is no pasturage there at this time o' +year. And I doubt if they'd be so safe on the islands as here, for +Trent and the men would have to go each day with fodder for them, and +the soldiers' spying eyes would be sure to note the coming and going o' +the boats. No," he added with decision, "I shall have the flocks kept +penned, nigh the house; and I shall make complaint o' this matter to +the Governor. As for the rest," and he smiled grimly, "I take it our +guns can protect ourselves and our property." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap21"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XXI +</H3> + +<P> +Hugh Knollys was so much a member of the household that Aunt Lettice +thought nothing of going her own way when dinner was over and leaving +him in the living-room with Dorothy; and the two now sat on one of the +low, broad window-seats, watching Joseph Devereux as he went out of +doors in search of Trent, with 'Bitha dancing along beside him. +</P> + +<P> +"How fast 'Bitha is growing!" Hugh remarked. "She will soon be taller +than you, Dot. Although, to be sure," he added with a laugh, "that is +not saying very much." +</P> + +<P> +Dorothy did not reply. Indeed it would seem that she had not heard +him; and now he laid his hand softly upon one of her own to arouse her +attention as he called her by name. +</P> + +<P> +At this she started, and turned her face to him. +</P> + +<P> +"What, Hugh—what is it?" she asked confusedly. +</P> + +<P> +His smiling face became sober at once, and a curious intentness crept +into his blue eyes while he and Dorothy looked at each other without +speaking. Then he asked deliberately, "Of what were you dreaming just +now, Dot?" +</P> + +<P> +A burning blush deepened the color in her cheeks, and her eyes fell +before those that seemed to be searching her very thoughts. +</P> + +<P> +"Shall I make a guess?" he said, a strange thrill now creeping into his +voice and causing her to lift her eyes again. "Were you dreaming of +that young redcoat you were walking with this morning?" +</P> + +<P> +She sprang to her feet and faced him, her eyes blazing, and her slight +form trembling with anger. +</P> + +<P> +"I was not walking with any such," she replied hotly. "How dare you +say so?" +</P> + +<P> +"Because it so appeared as I came along the Salem road," was his calm +answer. "I saw him on one side of the road leaning against the stone +wall, and watching you, as you went from the wall on the opposite side, +and across your father's lot. His eyes were fixed upon you as though +he were never going to look away; indeed he never saw nor heard me +until my horse was directly in front of him." +</P> + +<P> +Dorothy was now looking down at the floor, and made no reply. +</P> + +<P> +After waiting a moment for her to speak, Hugh took both her hands and +held them close, while he said with an earnestness that seemed almost +solemn in its intensity: "Don't deceive me, Dot. Don't tell me aught +that is not true, when you can trust me to defend you and your +happiness with my life, if needs be." +</P> + +<P> +His words comforted her in a way she could not explain. And yet they +startled her; for she was still too much of a child, and Hugh Knollys +had been too long a part of her every-day life, for her to suspect how +it really was with him. +</P> + +<P> +"I was not intending to tell you any untruth, Hugh. But—I was not +walking with him." +</P> + +<P> +The anger had now gone from her eyes, and she left her hands to lie +quietly in his clasp. But she had not forgotten the warm pressure of +those other hands in whose keeping they had been that same morning. +</P> + +<P> +"Had you not seen him, Dot?" Hugh asked, looking keenly into her face. +</P> + +<P> +At this her whole nature was up in rebellion, for she could not brook +his pursuing the matter farther, after what she had already told him. +</P> + +<P> +"Let go my hands!" she exclaimed angrily. "Let me go! You have no +right to question me as to my doings." +</P> + +<P> +He dropped her hands at once, and rising to his feet, turned his back +to her, and looked out of the window. A mighty flood of jealousy was +surging through his brain; and that which he had so long repressed was +struggling hard to uproot itself from the secret depths,—where he was +striving to hide it from her knowledge—and burst forth in fierce words +from his lips. +</P> + +<P> +Had this hated Britisher dared to steal into the sacred place of the +child's heart, which he himself, from a sense of honor, was bound to +make no effort to penetrate? The mere suspicion of such a thing was +maddening. +</P> + +<P> +Dorothy glanced at him. How big and angry he looked, standing there +with tightly folded arms, his lips compressed, and his brows contracted +into a deep scowl! How unlike he was to the sunny-faced Hugh Knollys +who had been her companion since childhood! +</P> + +<P> +"Don't be angry with me, Hugh," she pleaded softly, venturing timidly +to touch his shoulder. +</P> + +<P> +He whirled about so suddenly as to startle her, and she fell back a +pace, her wondering eyes staring at the set white face before her. +</P> + +<P> +"I am not angry, Dot," he said, letting his arms drop from their +clasping; "I am only—hurt." And he slowly resumed his place upon the +window-seat. +</P> + +<P> +"I don't wish to hurt you, Hugh," Dorothy declared, as she sat down by +him again. +</P> + +<P> +He seemed to make an effort to smile, as he asked, "Don't you?" +</P> + +<P> +"No, I do not." And now her voice began to gather a little asperity. +"But you do not seem to consider that you said aught to hurt me, as +well." +</P> + +<P> +He took her hand and stroked it gently. +</P> + +<P> +"You know well, Dot," he said, "that I'd not hurt you by word or deed. +And it is only when I think you are doing what is like to hurt +yourself, that I make bold to speak as I did just now." +</P> + +<P> +Dorothy was silent, but her brain was busy. The thought had come to +her that she must bind him by some means,—make it certain that he +should not speak of this matter to her brother. And a wild +impulse—one she did not stop to question—urged her to see that the +young soldier was not brought to any accounting for whatever he had +done. +</P> + +<P> +She wondered how much Hugh might know, and how much was only +suspicion,—surmise. And with the intent to satisfy herself as to +this, she said, "Just because you saw a redcoat watching me, as you +thought, and at a distance, you forthwith accuse me of walking with +him." +</P> + +<P> +She spoke with a fine show of impatience and reproof, but still +permitting him to hold and caress her hand. +</P> + +<P> +"Aye, Dot, but there be redcoats and redcoats. And this one happened +to be that yellow-faced gallant we are forever meeting, the one you—" +</P> + +<P> +She interrupted him. "I know what you mean. But I tell you truly, +Hugh, I had not been walking with him, nor did I know he was by the +stone wall looking after me, as you say." +</P> + +<P> +"And you had not seen him?" Hugh asked, now beginning to appear more +like himself, and bending his smiling face down to look at her. +</P> + +<P> +But the smile vanished, as he met her faltering eyes. +</P> + +<P> +"Don't tell me, Dot, if you'd sooner not; only know that you can trust +me, if you will, and I'll never fail you,—never!" +</P> + +<P> +These words, and the way they were spoken, settled all her doubts, and +clasping her other hand over his, that still held her own, she burst +forth impetuously: "Oh, I will tell you, Hugh. Only you'll promise me +that you'll never tell of it, not even to Jack." +</P> + +<P> +The young man hesitated, but only for a second, as the sweet prospect +of a secret between them—one to be shared by no other, not even her +idolized brother—swept away all other thoughts. +</P> + +<P> +"I promise that I'll tell no one, Dot,—not even Jack." +</P> + +<P> +He spoke slowly and guardedly, the better to hide the mad beating of +his heart, and the effort he was making to restrain himself from taking +her in his arms and telling her what she was to him. +</P> + +<P> +Dorothy uttered a little sigh, as if greatly relieved. Then she said +with an air of perfect frankness: "Well, Hugh, I <I>did</I> see him—up in +the wood, as I was coming from old Ruth's. He spoke to me, and I ran +away from him." +</P> + +<P> +"What did he say?" Hugh demanded quickly. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, I cannot remember,—he startled me so. I was dreadfully +frightened, although I am sure he meant no harm." +</P> + +<P> +"No harm," Hugh repeated wrathfully. "It was sufficient harm for him +to dare speak to you at all." +</P> + +<P> +"No, but it was not," the girl declared emphatically. "He and I are +acquainted, you know—after a fashion. It was not the first time he +has spoken to me, nor I to him, for that matter." +</P> + +<P> +Hugh's blue eyes flashed with anger. +</P> + +<P> +"I have a great mind to make it the last!" he exclaimed with hot +indignation, and half starting from his seat. +</P> + +<P> +But Dorothy pushed him back. "Now mark this, Hugh Knollys," she said +warningly,—"if you say aught to him, and so make me the subject of +unseemly brawling, I'll never speak to you again,—no, not the longest +day we both live!" And she brought her small clenched fist down with +enforcing emphasis upon Hugh's broad palm. +</P> + +<P> +"What a little spitfire you are, Dot!" And he smiled at her once more. +</P> + +<P> +"Spitfire, is it? You seem to have a plentiful supply of compliments +for me this day." She spoke almost gayly, pleased as she was to have +diverted him so easily. +</P> + +<P> +He was now staring at her with a new expression in his eyes, and +appeared to be turning over some matter in his mind; and Dorothy +remained silent, wondering what it might be. +</P> + +<P> +"Dorothy," he said presently, and very gravely, "I wonder will you +promise me something?" +</P> + +<P> +"I must know first what it is." She was smiling, and yet wishing he +would not look at her in such a strange way; she had never known before +that his frank, good-natured face could wear so sober an aspect. +</P> + +<P> +"I wish you would promise me that you'll keep out of this fellow's +way,—that you'll never permit him to hold any converse with you, and, +above all, when no one else is by." +</P> + +<P> +"I'll promise no such thing," she answered promptly, and with a look of +defiance. +</P> + +<P> +"And why not?" he asked in the same grave way, and with no show of +being irritated by her quick refusal. Indeed he now spoke even more +gently than before. +</P> + +<P> +"Because," she replied, "it is a silly thing to ask. He is a +gentleman; and I do not feel bound to fly from before him like a guilty +thing, or as though I were not able to take care of myself. Besides, +we are not like to meet again—he and I." +</P> + +<P> +Her voice sank at the last words, as though she were speaking them to +herself—and it had a touch of wistfulness or of regret. +</P> + +<P> +This set Hugh to scowling once more. But he said nothing, and sat +toying in an abstracted fashion with her small, soft fingers. +</P> + +<P> +The desire to plead his own cause was again strong upon him, and he was +wondering if he might not in some way sound the depths of her feeling +toward him, without violating the pledge which, although unspoken by +his lips, he knew her brother—his own dearest friend—assumed to have +been given. +</P> + +<P> +He was aroused from these speculations by a question from Dorothy. +</P> + +<P> +"You will never speak to him of me in any manner, will you, Hugh?" she +asked coaxingly. +</P> + +<P> +"Speak to whom?" he inquired in turn. Then, noting the embarrassment +in her eyes, he muttered something—and not altogether a blessing—upon +Cornet Southorn. +</P> + +<P> +"But you 'll—promise me you 'll," she insisted. +</P> + +<P> +"And if I promise?" he asked slowly. He was looking into her face, +thinking how sweet her lips were, and wishing he could throw honor to +the winds and kiss them—just once, while they were so close to his own. +</P> + +<P> +"There is nothing," she declared with a sudden impulse, "that I will +not do for you in return!" +</P> + +<P> +"Nothing!" A reckless light was now growing in his eyes. "Are you +sure, Dot, there is nothing?" +</P> + +<P> +"No, nothing I can do," she affirmed. But she could not help remarking +his eagerness and illy repressed excitement, and felt that she must +keep herself on guard against a possible demonstration,—something +whose nature she could not foresee. +</P> + +<P> +The young man was still looking fixedly at her. But now he let go her +hands and sprang to his feet. +</P> + +<P> +"I'll make no bargain with you, Dot," he said excitedly. "I hate this +man, and have from the very first, and I hope I'll have the good +fortune before many days to meet him face to face, in fair fight. But +I promise, as you ask it, that I'll seek no quarrel with him. And even +had you not asked, I'd surely never have mentioned your name to him." +</P> + +<P> +"Thank you." Dorothy spoke very quietly; and before he could know of +her intention she snatched his hand and kissed it. +</P> + +<P> +She did it so suddenly and quickly that he knew not what to say or do. +He felt the hot blood rush to his face, and found himself trembling +from the storm aroused within him by her caress. +</P> + +<P> +Before he could speak, she was on her feet alongside him, smiling up +into his burning face, and saying, "You are a good friend to me, Hugh, +and I'll not forget it." Then, as she laid her hand on his arm, "Come, +I will play something for you; I feel just in the humor for it." +</P> + +<P> +He followed her into the drawing-room, where a huge wood-fire leaped +and crackled on the hearth. She bade him be seated in a big chair in +front of the dancing flames, and then went over and perched herself +upon the bench—roomy enough to hold three Dorothys—before the spinet. +</P> + +<P> +A moment later and there stole from beneath the skilful touch of her +fingers one of those quaint melodies of which we in this generation +know nothing, save as they have come down to us through the ear alone, +never having been put upon paper. +</P> + +<P> +Hugh Knollys sat and watched her, noting the pretty curves of her +cheeks and throat,—the firm white neck, so small and round, with the +wayward hair breaking into rebellious little curls at the nape,—the +slender wrists, and small, snowy hands. +</P> + +<P> +None of these escaped him, as he sat a little back of her, his hungry +eyes absorbing each charming detail. He thought what a blessed thing +it would be, could she and he always be together, and alone, like this, +with peace smiling once more over the land, and they happy in the +society of each other. +</P> + +<P> +The music seemed to fit exactly into his present mood, and he sat +motionless for a time, listening to it. Then, scarcely conscious of +what he was doing, he arose to his feet; and as the final cadence died +softly away, he was in a chair beside the bench, with his arm clasping +Dorothy's waist. +</P> + +<P> +She turned a startled face, to find his own bending close to her, and +with a look in it such as she had never before known it to hold. +</P> + +<P> +"Dorothy," and his voice was almost a whisper, "you care more for me +than for the Britisher?" +</P> + +<P> +An alarmed suspicion of the truth came to her. She saw a new meaning +in all he had said, in what she had beheld in his face and manner; and +realizing this, she sat white and motionless, her fingers still resting +upon the keys. +</P> + +<P> +He now bent his head, and she was frightened to feel tears dropping on +her wrist. +</P> + +<P> +She was possessed by a wild desire to fly,—to get away from him. But +she found herself unable to stir, and sat rigid, feeling as if turned +to marble, while his arm was still lying loosely about her waist. +</P> + +<P> +Then his hand stole up, and his fingers clasped her hand. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, my God,"—his voice was hoarse and choked—"I cannot endure it!" +</P> + +<P> +At this, there came to the girl a flash of remembrance from that same +morning. She seemed to feel the arm of the young soldier around her, +and to see the scarlet-clad breast against which her head was pressed +so tenderly. A feeling as of treacherous dealing with his faith and +with her own rushed upon her, and she struggled to get away. +</P> + +<P> +"Are you gone daft, Hugh Knollys," she cried angrily, "or whatever ails +you?" +</P> + +<P> +He arose shamefacedly, and stood mute. But as she moved off, he +stretched out a hand to detain her. +</P> + +<P> +"Wait,—wait but a moment, Dot," he begged. "Don't leave me in such +fashion. Don't be angry with me." +</P> + +<P> +"Are you mad?" she demanded again, and with no less impatience, +although pausing beside him. +</P> + +<P> +"Aye, I think I must be," he admitted, now speaking more naturally, and +trying to smile down into the small face, still glowing with +indignation, so far beneath his own. +</P> + +<P> +"So it would seem," she said coldly, and in no wise softened. "I ne'er +expected such a thing from you." +</P> + +<P> +"Never mind, Dot,—forget it," he pleaded, now full of penitence. +"I've a great trouble on my mind just now, and your music seemed to +bring it all to me with a new rushing." +</P> + +<P> +Dorothy's face changed in a second, and became filled with sympathy. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, Hugh, I am so sorry," she said with quick solicitude, taking him +by the hand. "Don't you want to tell me about it? Mayhap I can help +you." Her anxiety about this unknown trouble had lulled to sleeping +her suspicions as to the reason for his outbreak. +</P> + +<P> +He smiled,—but sadly, grimly. "I'll tell you some day," he said, "and +we will see if you can help me. But we'll be better friends than ever +after this, won't we, Dot?" His eyes had been searching her face in +nervous wonder, as if to assure himself that he had not told her aught +of his secret,—the secret his honor forbade him to reveal. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, Hugh, I am sure we shall be." Dorothy said it with a warmth that +set his mind at rest. +</P> + +<P> +"And you'll let no redcoats, nor any coats—whate'er be their +color—come betwixt us?" he added, with a touch of his old playfulness. +</P> + +<P> +"No, never!" And there was a sincerity and firmness in her answer that +warmed his very heart. +</P> + +<P> +"Thank you, Dot," he said, lifting her fingers to his lips. "And thank +God!" he muttered as he released her hand, saying it in a way to make +Dorothy feel uncomfortable in the thought that perhaps she had pledged +herself to something more than she had intended. +</P> + +<P> +Just here Aunt Lettice came into the room. "Leet has returned from the +town," she announced, full of excitement, "and says that Mugford's wife +has at last prevailed upon the English officers to release him." +</P> + +<P> +"Can this be true?" inquired the young man, instantly alert, and quite +his natural self again. +</P> + +<P> +"So Leet says; and that Mugford is now in the town, with every one +rejoicing over him." And she poked the fire with great energy, sending +a thousand sparkles of flame dancing up the wide chimney. +</P> + +<P> +"How happy his poor wife must be!" was Dorothy's comment, as she +stooped to pick up 'Bitha's kitten, which had followed Aunt Lettice, +and was now darting at the steel buckles on the girl's shoes, where the +bright fire was reflected in flickerings most inviting to kittenish +eyes and gambols. +</P> + +<P> +"I think I'll ride over to town and see Mugford," said Hugh. "I want +to congratulate him upon his escape." +</P> + +<P> +He glanced at Dorothy, as if half expecting her to speak, as he had +just declined Aunt Lettice's urgent invitation that he return for +supper, saying that his mother was looking for him before evening. +</P> + +<P> +But all Dorothy said was, "Here come father and 'Bitha." And she +walked over toward the window. +</P> + +<P> +Hugh followed her, and said in a low voice, not meant for Aunt +Lettice's ears, "You'll not forget our compact, Dot, and your promise?" +</P> + +<P> +"No," she answered, smiling at him; "nor will you yours?" +</P> + +<P> +"Never!" He pressed the hand she extended to him, and then hurried +away. +</P> + +<P> +Joseph Devereux met him on the porch, and they stood talking for a few +minutes, while 'Bitha came within, her cheeks ruddy from the nipping +air. +</P> + +<P> +"Leet is back," she said, as she entered the drawing-room; "but Uncle +Joseph says it is too cold for us to take so late a ride over to see +Mistress Knollys." +</P> + +<P> +"So it is, 'Bitha," Dorothy assented. "But we'll go to the kitchen, +and ask Tyntie to let us make some molasses pull." +</P> + +<P> +She was, for the moment, a child again, with all perplexing thoughts of +redcoats and Hugh Knollys banished from her mind. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap22"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XXII +</H3> + +<P> +All the outdoor world seemed encased in burnished silver, as the new +moon of early December came up from the black bed of the ocean's +far-out rim, and mounting high and higher in the pale flush yet +lingering from the gorgeous sunset, brought out sparklings from the +snow drifted over the fields and fences of the old town. +</P> + +<P> +The roads were transformed into pavements of glittering mosaics and +pellucid crystals; and all about the Devereux house the meadow lands +stretched away like a shining sea whose waves had suddenly congealed, +catching and holding jewels in their white depths. +</P> + +<P> +Dorothy was looking out at the beauty of it all, her face close to the +pane her warm breath dimmed now and then, compelling her to raise a +small hand to make it clear again for her vision. +</P> + +<P> +It was her brother's wedding night. And the girl was very fair and +sweet to look upon, in her soft pink gown, with its dainty laces and +ribbons, as she stood there awaiting the others; for they were all to +drive into town, to the house of Mistress Horton, where the marriage +was to be celebrated. +</P> + +<P> +Nicholson Broughton was away from his home, enforced to tarry near +Cambridge, where several of his townsmen were holding weighty conclaves +which it was important for him to attend. But he had urged John +Devereux to make no delay in the ceremony, feeling that his daughter, +once wedded, and an established member of the family at the Devereux +farm, would be happier, as well as safer, now that riots in the town +were becoming more frequent and fierce. +</P> + +<P> +Hugh Knollys also was absent, having undertaken an important mission in +the neighborhood of Boston. +</P> + +<P> +Only the young man himself knew how eagerly he had desired to be given +this responsibility, as a reason for being away. For as the time drew +near for his friend's wedding, he feared to trust his self-control +should he find himself again in Dorothy's presence. +</P> + +<P> +And then, besides, the hated redcoats were still on the Neck, and +several of the officers, among them Cornet Southorn, having accepted +more comfortable quarters at Jameson's house, Hugh thought it the wiser +course to remove himself from the vicinity for a time. +</P> + +<P> +It seemed as though these two young men were continually meeting one +another on the roads and byways of the town and its neighborhood. And +the sight of the stalwart form dashing along upon a spirited horse,—of +the handsome face and reckless eyes, raised in Hugh a fierce desire to +lay them in the dust through the medium of an enforced quarrel. +</P> + +<P> +Dorothy had been by Hugh's side at several of these encounters; and it +had made him heartsick to see the fluttered way in which her eyes would +turn from the young Britisher after meeting his ardent gaze, and how +for a time she would be uneasy and abstracted, resisting all attempts +to gain her attention. +</P> + +<P> +But he bravely held his own counsel, and since that memorable day in +October had never mentioned the Englishman's name, nor made any +allusion to him or his doings. +</P> + +<P> +As for Dorothy, she had gone about all these days with a face grave +almost to sadness; and it was well for her own peace that the others of +the family ascribed her altered mien to jealousy, thinking that her +exacting heart found it a hard matter to share her adored brother with +another whom he reckoned more precious than her own spoiled self. +</P> + +<P> +Her musings were now disturbed by Jack coming into the room. +</P> + +<P> +He looked the brave soldier in his new regimentals,—a round jacket and +breeches of blue cloth, with trimmings of leather buttons; and his dark +handsome face was aglow with happiness. +</P> + +<P> +His curling locks were gathered at the back of the neck, and tied with +a black watered-silk ribbon; and in his hand was a broad-brimmed hat, +caught up on one side, as was the fashion, and adorned with a cockade +of blue ribbons belonging to his sweetheart. +</P> + +<P> +"Ah, Dot, and so you are here! Leet is at the door, child, and Aunt +Lettice and 'Bitha are with father, in the drawing-room, all ready to +start. Come, get your cloak, and let us be off." +</P> + +<P> +He was close beside her as she turned from the window; and thinking he +saw the sparkle of tears in her eyes, he laid a detaining hand on her +arm. +</P> + +<P> +"You must be happy to-night, Dot," he said, "for my sake. I should +like all the world to be so, and you, my little sister, more than all +the rest." +</P> + +<P> +She let him kiss her on the cheek, but stood silent, with lowered eyes. +</P> + +<P> +"What is it, child,—don't you rejoice with me, when I am happier than +ever before in my life?" +</P> + +<P> +He gently took her chin in his hand and raised her downcast face. In +an instant her arms were clasped about his neck and her head buried +against his breast. +</P> + +<P> +Just then they heard Aunt Lettice, in the hall, calling as if she +supposed Dorothy to be above stairs. +</P> + +<P> +"Come, Dot," urged her brother,—"they are waiting for us, and we must +be off." And kissing her, he quietly unclasped her clinging arms. +</P> + +<P> +At this she drew herself away from him, and fixing her eyes searchingly +upon his face, said, "You are so happy, Jack, are n't you, because you +and Mary love each other?" +</P> + +<P> +"Why, surely," he replied, wondering at the words, and at her way of +speaking them. But he smiled as he looked into her troubled face. +</P> + +<P> +"Do you not think, Jack," she asked, still with that strange look in +her eyes, "that when love comes in, it changes all of one's world?" +</P> + +<P> +He now laughed outright. But she paid no attention to his gayety, +going on in a way to have troubled him had he been less selfishly happy +at the moment, "If you know this so well, Jack, you will never cease to +love me, if ever love comes to change my own world, the same as it has +yours? No matter what you may feel is wrong about it, you will not +blame me?" +</P> + +<P> +"Why, Dot, little girl, whatever are you dreaming about,—what should +make you talk in this way?" And he looked at her with real anxiety. +</P> + +<P> +But she only laughed, and passing her hand across her eyes, answered +nervously, "I don't know, Jack,—I was but thinking on future +possibilities." +</P> + +<P> +"Rather upon the most remote impossibilities," he said laughingly. +"But come, child, think no more of anything but this,—that 't is high +time for you to put on your cloak and come to see your brother take +unto himself a wife, who is to be your own dear sister." +</P> + +<P> +"I am glad it is Mary Broughton," Dorothy said quietly, as she took her +cloak from a chair. +</P> + +<P> +"So am I," he laughed, as he wrapped the warm garment about her, +shutting away all her pink sweetness with its heavy folds. Then, while +he helped her to draw the hood over her curly head, "What if it were +Polly Chine, now?" +</P> + +<P> +"Then," she answered with an odd smile, "you would have to fight Hugh +Knollys." +</P> + +<P> +They were passing through the door, and he said with a keen glance at +her, "I've good cause to know better than that, Dot." +</P> + +<P> +But she gave no heed to this, and they joined the others outside. +</P> + +<P> +The old family sleigh moved sedately along the hard, snow-packed road, +the moon making a shadowy, grotesque mass of it along the high drifts, +while Leet, enveloped in furs, sat soberly erect, full of the +importance now attaching to him. +</P> + +<P> +When they were well on their way, a body of mounted Britishers swept +by, evidently bound for the town; and Joseph Devereux remarked to his +son, as the two sat opposite one another, while Dorothy, riding +backwards with her brother, seemed lost in the contemplation of the +snowy fields they were passing, "I trust, Jack, those fellows will stir +up no trouble this night." +</P> + +<P> +"They are most likely to do so," was the low-spoken reply; "for you +know the mere sight of their red coats acts upon our men much as the +like color affects an angry bull." +</P> + +<P> +"I wish they might be ordered from the Neck," observed Aunt Lettice, +who sat alongside her brother-in-law, and had caught enough to guess at +the rest of the talk. +</P> + +<P> +"They must wish so themselves, by this time," Jack said with a laugh. +"It must now be rarely cold quarters for them over there." +</P> + +<P> +"Why did you not ask them to your wedding, Cousin Jack?" +</P> + +<P> +The question came from small 'Bitha, who was sitting between Dorothy +and her brother. "I wonder if the one Mary pushed over the rocks last +summer would not like to see her married?" +</P> + +<P> +"'Bitha!" Dorothy exclaimed sharply, seeming to awaken to what was +being said. "Why will you always put it so? Mary did not push him +over; he fell himself." +</P> + +<P> +"Aye,—but, Cousin Dot, he fell over while he was stepping back from +her," the child answered. "She looked so angry that I think he was +sorely frightened." +</P> + +<P> +Dorothy did not reply; but her brother said gayly, "Well, 'Bitha, I +hope Mary will never look at me in a way to frighten me so much as +that." +</P> + +<P> +"She never would," 'Bitha asserted with confidence, "for you are not a +Britisher." +</P> + +<P> +"What a stanch little rebel it is," Joseph Devereux said laughingly; +and Jack went on in a teasing way to 'Bitha, "I expect we shall all go +to see 'Bitha married to a redcoat as soon as she is big enough." +</P> + +<P> +"You will see no such thing, Cousin Jack," the child replied angrily. +"I'd run away, so that no one could ever find me, before I'd do such a +thing. Would not you, Cousin Dorothy?" +</P> + +<P> +Dorothy did not answer, and 'Bitha repeated the question. +</P> + +<P> +"Would I do what, 'Bitha?" Dorothy now asked, but indifferently, and as +though with the object of quieting the child. +</P> + +<P> +"Why, marry a redcoat?" +</P> + +<P> +"Nonsense, 'Bitha,—don't let Jack tease you." And Dorothy turned away +again to look off over the snow fields through which they were passing. +But she wondered if the others noticed how oddly her voice sounded, and +what a tremble there was in it. +</P> + +<P> +The Horton house loomed up full of importance from amid its darker +fellows, and warm lights twinkled out here and there where a parted +curtain let them through to shine forth like welcoming smiles into the +cold night. +</P> + +<P> +Within there was much bustle and good-natured badinage, as the +neighbors, bidden to the feast, assisted the people of the +house,—playing the part of entertainer or caterer, hairdresser or +maid, as the needs of the other guests demanded. +</P> + +<P> +It was a simple, homely wedding, as was the custom of the day; and the +festivities were enjoyed with all the more zest by reason of the relief +they offered from the anxiety felt by all, on account of the disturbed +condition of public affairs. +</P> + +<P> +There were games—such as "Twirl the Trencher" and "Hunt the +Slipper"—for those who liked them; and the elders endeavored to enter +at least into the spirit of all that was going on, and not dampen the +younger folks' pleasure by the exhibition of gloomy faces and +constrained actions. +</P> + +<P> +Later in the evening there was dancing. And it was a goodly sight to +look at the handsome groom and his lovely bride go through the stately +minuet, with his father and Aunt Lettice opposite them,—the slow, +dignified step making the feat a no-wise difficult one for the old +gentleman, who had in his day been accounted one of the most graceful +of dancers. +</P> + +<P> +Dorothy acted for a time as though she were made of quicksilver. She +was leader in all the games and frolics, and seemed the very +impersonation of happy, laughter-loving girlhood. Then, and without +any apparent reason, another and different mood took possession of her, +and she suddenly became very quiet, taking but little part in what was +going on. +</P> + +<P> +Her father's fond eyes were quick to notice this; but when he hastened +to draw her to one side and ask for the cause, she made light of his +anxiety, and gave him a smiling assurance of her perfect well-being. +</P> + +<P> +As a matter of fact, something had occurred to disturb the girl very +seriously. +</P> + +<P> +During one of the games she had been alone for a few minutes in a room +facing upon the side yard,—a small orchard; and chancing to glance +toward the window, she saw, as if pressed against the glass, the face +of Cornet Southorn. +</P> + +<P> +While she stood, silent and rigid, staring at it, the face disappeared; +and some of the other guests now entering the room, she slipped away to +recover her composure. +</P> + +<P> +What, she asked herself, did he seek, and why was he here? She +dismissed at once the thought of his meaning any harm, for surely he +would not bring about any disturbance upon this, her brother's wedding +night. And even should he seek to intrude himself upon them, there +could be no just cause to warrant such an act, for although the King +might expect to enforce the Acts of his Parliament, he had not as yet +sought to control the marrying or giving in marriage of his American +subjects. +</P> + +<P> +But even so, she was startled, almost alarmed; and the matter filled +her thoughts for the remainder of the evening. +</P> + +<P> +It had been arranged that Aunt Lettice and 'Bitha were to remain with +the Hortons for a time, while Joseph Devereux was to accept the +invitation of his friend, Colonel Lee, to pass a few days at the +latter's house, not far away. +</P> + +<P> +This would make the bride and groom the only ones who would return with +Leet to the farm, as Dorothy was going to the home of a girl friend, +feeling that it would be a relief to be among new faces and in a +strange house. +</P> + +<P> +"Dorothy, are you going to let me be a good sister to you,—one of the +sort you will come to with all your joys and troubles?" +</P> + +<P> +The two girls were standing close to each other in one of the upper +rooms, where Mary was donning a dark gray slip pelisse and hood, with +warm fur linings peeping about the edges, while Mistress Horton was +bustling about out of earshot, getting some last stray articles bundled +for their conveyance to the sleigh waiting below. +</P> + +<P> +The earnest blue eyes were bent searchingly upon Dorothy's face, as if +the speaker had more than a passing notion of the impulses stirring the +heart lying beneath the laces of the dainty pink gown. +</P> + +<P> +But Dorothy laughed, albeit a little constrainedly, and replied, "I +thought you knew all about that long ago, Mary." +</P> + +<P> +"Do you know, Dot,"—and Mary's white brows contracted into a puzzled +frown—"somehow you are changed. What is it, dear?" +</P> + +<P> +"Your imaginings, I should say," was the careless reply. "My hair is +not turning gray, is it?" And she touched her dark curls. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, never mind now," said Mary, diplomatically, and not caring to +press the matter, "but you will tell me when we are together again, +won't you, Dot?" +</P> + +<P> +Dorothy only smiled, and said nothing. +</P> + +<P> +Jack had spoken to Mary more than once of some change that had come +over his sister. But his words were not needed, as she herself, not +having seen much of the girl these last few months, would have observed +it had he not spoken. +</P> + +<P> +Dorothy was as impulsive and affectionate as of old, but to Mary's keen +eyes there now seemed a new-born womanliness about her. She was +sensible of the absence of that childish frankness and ingenuousness +which had been so much a part of the girl's nature. She was now more +like a woman, and one whose mind held a secret she herself tried to +evade, as well as have others blind to its existence. +</P> + +<P> +It was as if a new self had been born, dominating the old self, and +sending her thoughts far from where her body might be. +</P> + +<P> +"She must be in love with some one, and 't is sure to be Hugh Knollys," +said Mary to herself, with a glow of happiness, as the two went +downstairs, Mistress Horton and a servant following them, both laden +with packages to be stowed away in the Devereux equipage, whereon Leet +sat rigidly upright, the darkness hiding his black face and its unusual +grin. +</P> + +<P> +"Take good care of her, Strings," Joseph Devereux cautioned, as he took +his place within the vehicle, and pointing to the open doorway, where a +pink gown and dark curly head showed foremost amongst the guests +crowded there to see the bride and groom on their way. The pedler—an +humble onlooker at the wedding—had urged his protection for Dorothy's +safer piloting through the town to her friend's house; and this her +father and brother had been glad to accept. +</P> + +<P> +"That I will, sir,—never fear," was the hearty response; and as Jack +Devereux sprang into the sleigh, Leet turned the horses' heads to the +street and drove off, followed by a shower of old shoes and peals of +merry laughter from the doorway. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap23"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XXIII +</H3> + +<P> +The town was as silent as a city of the dead when the four started on +their way, Master Storms—a fussy, irritable old gentleman—in advance, +with his pretty daughter Patience hanging on his arm, and followed +closely by the small erect figure of Dorothy, wrapped in her dark +cloak; while Johnnie Strings, on guard against any unseen danger, +walked directly behind her. +</P> + +<P> +There were hurrying masses of cloud overhead that made gorges and +ravines, hemming in the glittering stars, now grown brighter since the +moon had set; and the sound of the sea came faintly hoarse, as the +little party bent their steps in its direction. For near it lay the +Storms domicile,—up near what was known as "Idler's Hill." +</P> + +<P> +Suddenly a wild uproar broke out upon the night, coming from ahead of +them; and Master Storms bringing his daughter to a halt, Dorothy and +the pedler came up with them. +</P> + +<P> +They all stood listening. There were the shouts and cries of a +not-to-be-mistaken street fight; and the turmoil was becoming more +distinct, as though the combatants were approaching. +</P> + +<P> +Patience urged her father to hurry on towards their house; but he +hesitated. +</P> + +<P> +"What think you is amiss, Johnnie Strings?" he inquired nervously, +fidgeting from one foot to the other, while his terrified daughter +tugged at his arm. +</P> + +<P> +"Usual trouble, I guess," drawled the pedler. "Redcoats paradin' the +streets, and gettin' sassy." Then turning to Dorothy, he said, "Had +n't ye best let me take ye back, Mistress Dorothy?" +</P> + +<P> +Before she could answer him a small body of soldiers issued from a side +street near by. A wavering, yelling crowd of angered men swept forward +to meet them; and the two girls and their escorts found themselves in +the midst of a struggling, shouting mass, with here and there a +horseman looming up, whose headgear, faintly outlined in the uncertain +light, proved him to be a British dragoon. +</P> + +<P> +Master Storms seized his daughter by the arm, and taking advantage of +an opening he saw in the crowd, darted through and sped with the girl +down a narrow alley. But the pedler, trying to follow with Dorothy, +was baffled by a number of the combatants closing in around them. +</P> + +<P> +He shouted lustily for them to make a passage for himself and his +charge; but although he was known to many of them, rage, and the lust +of battle, seemed to dull their ears to his voice. +</P> + +<P> +In the midst of it all he was felled to the ground; and with no thought +of tarrying to find out if he were hurt, Dorothy, seeing a small +opening in the mass of men, dashed through it, with the intention of +making her way back to the Hortons'. +</P> + +<P> +She had gone only a short distance when her path was barred by several +horsemen, who seemed to be the leaders of the troop. They had fought +their way to a clearer space, and were looking back as though for their +followers to join them. +</P> + +<P> +"Devils—fools," panted one. "They deserve to be wiped out." +</P> + +<P> +"Aye," said another. "If we might use our weapons as we liked, I, for +one, would take pleasure in having a hand at that game." +</P> + +<P> +Dorothy attempted to glide by them, hoping that the dark color of the +cloak she wore would save her from detection. But the voice of the +first speaker called out gayly, "Aha, who goes there? Stop, pretty +one, and give the countersign." +</P> + +<P> +"Or, if indeed you be a pretty one, we'll take a kiss instead, and call +it a fair deal," laughed another, as flippantly as if the night were +not being rent with the uproar of the fighting mob just behind them. +</P> + +<P> +Dorothy came to a standstill, and for the instant was uncertain which +way to turn. Then she resolved to pursue the road she had taken, and +said spiritedly, "Stand aside, and let me pass out of hearing of such +insults, or it may be the worse for you." +</P> + +<P> +She lifted her head as she spoke; and as the rays of a near-by lamp +fell upon her face, one of the riders spurred toward her. +</P> + +<P> +"Mistress Dorothy!" The voice made her heart leap; and then she felt +sick and faint. +</P> + +<P> +"Dear mistress,"—and now Cornet Southorn had dismounted close beside +her—"let me conduct you safely out of this place, where you surely +never should have come." +</P> + +<P> +The other horsemen had drawn to one side and away from them, and were +now silent. +</P> + +<P> +Scarcely conscious of what she was doing, Dorothy permitted him to lift +her to his saddle. He sprang up behind her, and holding her firmly +with one arm about her waist, spurred his horse away from the scene, +shouting to the others not to wait for him. +</P> + +<P> +The uproar soon died away behind them, but still they sped on in +silence. Then Dorothy heard the young man laugh, and in a way to +frighten her, and rally her dreaming senses to instant alertness. +</P> + +<P> +"So now, my sweet little rebel, you are my captive, instead of being my +jailer, as that night in the summer." And she felt his breath touch +her cheek. "You shall not speak to me in such fashion. And—oh, you +have passed the street leading to Mistress Morton's, which is where I +must go." +</P> + +<P> +Dorothy began with her usual imperiousness, but ended in affright as +she saw the street fade into the darkness behind them. +</P> + +<P> +"Is that where I stole like a thief to catch one glimpse of you, pretty +one?" he asked, paying no heed to her indignation. "And I felt like +committing murder, when I saw all the gallants who wanted your smiles +for themselves." +</P> + +<P> +"Take me back this minute!" she demanded angrily; but her heart was now +thrilling with something that was not altogether rage nor fright. +</P> + +<P> +"That will I not," he answered quickly, and with dogged firmness. +</P> + +<P> +"You are no gentleman," she cried, beginning at last to feel real +alarm, "if you do not take me to Mistress Morton's this minute." +</P> + +<P> +The young man leaned forward until his lips were close to the girl's +ear; and his deep voice, now trembling as with suppressed feeling, sent +each word to her with perfect distinctness. +</P> + +<P> +"I hope, sweet Mistress Dorothy, I am a gentleman," he said. "As such +I was born, and have been accounted. But"—and his voice sank to a +tremulous softness—"take you anywhere, I will not, until we have seen +good Master Weeks, for whose house we are now bound. And when we leave +it, it will be as man and wife." +</P> + +<P> +"You—dare not," she gasped. "You dare not do such a thing." +</P> + +<P> +He laughed softly. "Dare I not? Ah, but you mistake. I dare do +anything to win you for my own. I know your sweet rebel heart better +than you think, and I know that except it be done in some such manner, +you may never be mine." +</P> + +<P> +She tried to speak, but fright and dismay sealed her lips. Suddenly he +bent his face still closer and whispered: "Ah, little sweetheart, how I +long to kiss you! But my rose has its thorns; and I fear their +stinging my face, as they did that day in the wood, ages ago,—so long +it seems since I had the happy chance to hold speech with you." +</P> + +<P> +Still Dorothy could not utter a word, seeming to be in a dream, while +the powerful gray flew along the deserted streets that somehow looked +new and strange to her eyes. And now she felt the broad breast +pillowing her head, and she could feel distinctly the beating of his +heart, as if his pulse and her own were one and the same. +</P> + +<P> +And so they rode along in silence until they reached the house of +Master Weeks, where the young man pulled up his horse, and without +dismounting, pounded fiercely with his sword-hilt upon the door. +</P> + +<P> +An upper window was soon raised, and a man's querulous voice demanded +to know what was wanted. +</P> + +<P> +"Make haste, and come down to see," was the impatient answer. "It is +Cornet Southorn who wishes to speak with you." +</P> + +<P> +The window was closed hastily, and a light soon flickered in the lower +part of the house; and then came the noise of the door being unbarred. +</P> + +<P> +The young man sprang to the ground and held out his arms. +</P> + +<P> +"Come, sweetheart," he said, "let me lift you down, and I will fasten +the horse to a ring in the step here. He has been fastened there +before, but," with a soft laugh, "scarce for a like purpose." +</P> + +<P> +Dorothy clung to the pommel. "I'll not,—I'll not!" she declared. +"You shall not dare do so wicked a thing, and Master Weeks will never +dare listen to you." +</P> + +<P> +"We'll see to that," he laughed, and lifted her from the saddle. Then, +as she reached the ground, he kissed her, as he had that day in the +wood. +</P> + +<P> +"Be good to me, and true to yourself, my sweet little rebel," he +whispered, "and fight no longer with truth and your own heart. Own +that you love me, and know that I love you,—aye, better than my life." +</P> + +<P> +"I care naught for your love," cried Dorothy, struggling to free +herself from his arms. "And I tell you that I hate you!" +</P> + +<P> +"Aye," and he laughed again, "so your lips say. But I know what your +heart says, for your eyes told me that, long ago. And I shall listen +to your heart and eyes, and pay no heed to your sweet little rebellious +mouth." +</P> + +<P> +They were now standing on the upper step of the small porch, and in the +open doorway was the minister, Master Weeks, a candle in his hand, and +held above his head as he peered out into the darkness with wonder +filling his blinking eyes. +</P> + +<P> +"Good Master Weeks, here is a little wedding party. And despite the +unseemly hour, you must out with your book, and your clerk, as witness, +for binding the bargain past all breaking." +</P> + +<P> +With this, the young officer, carrying Dorothy in before him, entered +the house and closed the door, against which he placed his broad back, +his gleaming teeth and laughing eyes alight like a roguish boy's as he +smiled down upon the bewildered little divine. +</P> + +<P> +"You will do no such thing, Master Weeks," Dorothy protested, her eyes +flashing with anger. "I am here against my will, and forbid you to +listen to his madness." +</P> + +<P> +"Aye," the young man said, looking into her glowing face, "mad I am, +and with a disease that naught will cure but to know that you are my +wife." +</P> + +<P> +"Why, Cornet Southorn," exclaimed Master Weeks, "whatever can you be +thinking on? Surely this lady is Mistress Dorothy, the daughter of +Master Joseph Devereux." And he looked closely into her face. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, so I am," she cried, moving nearer to him. "You know my father, +and you'll surely not hearken to this young Britisher?" +</P> + +<P> +"Aye, but he will, and that speedily," the young man asserted. The +smile was now gone from his face, and his hand stole toward his pistol. +</P> + +<P> +"Master Weeks," he said sternly, "it will go hard with you if within +ten minutes you do not make this lady my wife." And he looked at his +watch. +</P> + +<P> +The frightened little man said nothing more, but hurriedly summoned his +housekeeper and her son, who was also his clerk. A few minutes later, +and Dorothy, held so firmly—albeit gently—by Kyrle Southorn that she +could not move from his side, heard the words that made her his wife. +</P> + +<P> +When it was over, she was strangely silent, scarcely seeming to +comprehend what had taken place. +</P> + +<P> +The newly made husband put his name upon the register. Then, as he +drew Dorothy forward to take his place, he bent down until his face +came beneath her own, and gave her a curious, beseeching look,—one +that seemed to act upon her bewildered senses like a deadening drug. +</P> + +<P> +Yes, he was right. She loved him better than all else in the world. +Her mind had fought the truth these many months; but now her heart rose +up, a giant in strength and might, and she could never question it +again. +</P> + +<P> +For a moment her great dark eyes looked down into his pleading ones. +Then in a subdued, obedient way, entirely unlike the wilful Dorothy of +all her former life, she took the pen he proffered and wrote her name +underneath his bold signature. +</P> + +<P> +A deep sigh now burst from his lips,—one of happy relief; then, as if +utterly unmindful of the minister's presence, he pressed a kiss upon +the little hand that still held the pen. +</P> + +<P> +She submitted to this in silence, standing before him with downcast +face, and eyes that seemed fearing to meet his gaze, while he carefully +drew the cloak about her once more. +</P> + +<P> +"I trust, Mistress Dorothy, you will in no wise hold me accountable for +this young man's rashness, when the matter shall come to your father's +ears, but that you will kindly raise your voice in my behalf to testify +how that I was forced for my life's sake to agree." +</P> + +<P> +Master Weeks was already on the black list, owing to his well-known +sympathy for the King's cause, and for having remonstrated openly with +the patriots of his congregation. +</P> + +<P> +"You have but to keep a close mouth, Master Weeks," said Southorn, as +the little man lighted them into the hall; "and the closer, the safer +it will be for your own welfare, until such time as one of us shall +call upon you to speak." +</P> + +<P> +A few minutes later they were again speeding along, with everything +about them as silent as the stars now glittering in an unclouded sky. +</P> + +<P> +The touch of the keen air upon Dorothy's face seemed to arouse her; and +as her senses became awakened, she was filled with a wild yearning for +the safe shelter of her father's arms. +</P> + +<P> +What would that father say,—how was she ever to tell him of this +dreadful thing? +</P> + +<P> +And yet was it sure to be so dreadful to her? +</P> + +<P> +Yes, it must be. This man was the sworn enemy of her country, and of +the cause for which her brother and her friends were imperilling their +very lives. If she went with him—this Englishman who was now her +husband—it meant that her family would brand her as a traitor, and +that she would be an outcast from them. It might bring about the death +of her father, the light of whose eyes and life she knew herself to be. +</P> + +<P> +She seemed to see once more the beloved face, and hear his voice, +warning the pedler to take care of her. +</P> + +<P> +And poor Johnnie Strings—might he not at this moment be dead, stricken +down by the followers of this very man who was now holding her so close +to his breast, and murmuring fond words between the kisses he pressed +upon her lips. +</P> + +<P> +She was beset by a sudden loathing of him and of herself, and pushing +away his bended face, she tried to sit more erect. +</P> + +<P> +"Stop!" she cried fiercely. "Don't touch me. I did not mean to give +way so. I detest you!" +</P> + +<P> +"Ah, my little rebel,"—and he spoke in no pleased tone,—"have I to +fight the battle all over?" +</P> + +<P> +"You have taken an unfair, a dishonorable advantage of me," she said. +"I am not used to such manners as you have shown. But I tell you +this,—although you have forced me to become your wife, you cannot +force my love." +</P> + +<P> +"So it would seem," was his grim answer. +</P> + +<P> +"Where do you purpose taking me?" she demanded, all her wits now well +in hand. +</P> + +<P> +"That shall be just as you say, sweet mistress," he replied, so +good-naturedly as to surprise her. +</P> + +<P> +"Then take me at once to my father's house," she ordered, with her +natural imperiousness. +</P> + +<P> +"So be it," he said. "And that will be on my own way, as it leads to +Jameson's." +</P> + +<P> +They rode in silence along the snowy road, whose whiteness and the +stars made the only light, until they were within her father's grounds, +and partially up the driveway. +</P> + +<P> +Here she bade him let her down; and he dismounted silently and lifted +her from the horse, detaining her as she stood alongside him, as in her +heart she had hoped he would. And yet had he not done this, she would +have gone her way without a word. +</P> + +<P> +"Is there any doubt but that you will get within the house all safe?" +he asked anxiously. +</P> + +<P> +"None." She lifted her face, and he wished there were a better light +with which to see her. +</P> + +<P> +"And now," he said, "what is your will that I do?" +</P> + +<P> +Dorothy answered quickly and with angry decision. +</P> + +<P> +"Go away and leave me," she exclaimed, "and never speak to me again!" +</P> + +<P> +She could not see the look of pain come to his face. But he still +lingered beside her, and asked again, "And you are certain to get +within the house, and that you fear naught?" +</P> + +<P> +"I fear nothing!" she said impatiently. +</P> + +<P> +"Aye,—I should have cause to know better than ask such a question," he +declared, in a voice that sounded as if now he might be smiling. Then +he asked, "And you mean it,—that I leave you, and keep away?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, yes; let me go." And she sought to escape from his grasp. +</P> + +<P> +But he held her firmly, and still closer. +</P> + +<P> +"Do you realize, sweet mistress, that you are my wife,—my own little +wife?" +</P> + +<P> +She did not reply; and bending his head nearer, he exclaimed +passionately: "My own wife you are, and no man can change that,—never, +never! And now, having gained you, I am content to await your +pleasure. My lips shall be sealed until you choose to open them; and +until you send for me, sweet mistress of my heart, I shall not come +nigh you. Only, I pray you, in God's name, not to let the time be far +away." +</P> + +<P> +"Let me go," was all she could say, dismayed as she was by the weight +of sorrow that had come to her, and threatened those whom she loved. +</P> + +<P> +He released her without another word, and she fled swiftly to the house. +</P> + +<P> +Having awakened Tyntie by tossing some bits of ice against her window, +she soon gained entrance, and quieted the wonder of the faithful +servant by telling her that there had been a street fight, and a +gentleman had brought her home on his horse. +</P> + +<P> +Despite the terrible struggle going on in her childish heart, Dorothy +kept up bravely until alone in her own room, whose very familiarity +seemed almost a shock to her, for all that had been crowded into these +few hours made it as though weeks had passed since she arrayed herself +for her brother's wedding,—little dreaming that it was for her own as +well. +</P> + +<P> +And such a wedding! How was it that the young Britisher had dared to +do such a thing? How was it that she had come to sign the register so +meekly? How could she ever dare tell of it? And if she did so, might +not her revelation bring harm to him? +</P> + +<P> +Such were the questions that chased one another through her mind, only +to return again and again with renewed importunity. +</P> + +<P> +She had told him to go, and yet—she loved him truly. And could she be +loyal to her father's cause with such a love battling in her heart? +</P> + +<P> +With thoughts like these the few remaining hours of the night wore +away, bringing to her but snatches of fitful sleep. +</P> + +<P> +Johnnie Strings appeared at the Devereux farm early the following +morning. The red of his face was almost pale, and he was haggard and +wild-eyed, with one of his arms in a sling. +</P> + +<P> +He came to report to John Devereux the happenings of the night before, +and to consult with him as to the best way of imparting to his father +the news of Dorothy's disappearance. +</P> + +<P> +The newly wedded pair had already been told by Tyntie of the girl's +presence in the house; and Jack now hastened to assure the almost +distracted pedler of her safety, adding that they had thought it best +to leave her sleeping undisturbed until she should be ready to come +down and join them. +</P> + +<P> +When Johnnie Strings heard this, he collapsed into a chair. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, well!" he exclaimed, as soon as he could find his voice, "I +never was so dead beat out! My broken arm is pretty bad, to be sure, +but my feelin's was a danged sight worse when I come to my senses last +night. There they had me in fisher Doak's, an' naught could they tell +o' Mistress Dorothy, for none had seen her. I went down to Storms's at +daybreak, and then over to Horton's, an' she'd been seen at neither +place. Comin' by Master Lee's, I first thought to make inquiry there, +thinkin', ye know, she might o' flewed to her father. Then, thinks I, +'Hold on, Strings. If she did, then she's safe as safe; an' if she did +n't, why, ye may be the death o' the old gentleman.' +</P> + +<P> +"So thinkin', I rode back to Horton's ag'in an' begged 'em—an' +Mistress Lettice, who was about plum out o' her head with fright—to +keep quiet, an' not risk scarin' your father to death, while I rode out +here to see ye an' have a sort o' meetin' over it, to decide what's to +be done next an' best. So now, thank the Lord, I find the bird is safe +here in the nest where she b'longs, an' I'll hurry back an' tell +Mistress Lettice, as I promised to do." +</P> + +<P> +With this he pulled himself up from the chair and started for the door. +But the young man stopped him. +</P> + +<P> +"You had better stop here awhile, Strings," he said, "and have +something to eat and drink; I can send Leet in to see Aunt Lettice." +And Mary adding her persuasions, the worn-out pedler was induced to +accept the invitation. +</P> + +<P> +Tyntie soon had a tempting meal spread for him; and having been without +food since leaving the Horton house the night before, he was in a +condition to do it full justice. +</P> + +<P> +John Devereux sat by while the pedler ate, and drew from him the +details of the disturbance. +</P> + +<P> +It had been brought about by a party of the Britishers being requested +to depart from a tavern kept by one Garvin, where they were eating and +drinking until a late hour. A wrangle ensued, during which one of the +dragoons knocked Garvin down, and then the latter's son had retaliated +in kind. +</P> + +<P> +At this, some of the other guests—townsmen—had joined in, and a +regular fight began, spreading soon from the inn to the street, where, +aroused by the noise, others had taken part, although scarcely knowing +why, except for the reason that here were some of the hated enemy, and +they must be made to retreat. +</P> + +<P> +No one had been killed outright, although several were quite badly hurt. +</P> + +<P> +"The queerest part of it is, sir," said the pedler, having finished his +story, "that I've a firm belief 't was none other than David Prentiss +who broke my arm for me. Somethin' must o' turned him blind, I should +say, for him to see a red coat on <I>me</I>." +</P> + +<P> +"That is the trouble with these street fights, and especially at +night,—the men seem to lose all sense of sight and reason. Something +has got to be done to make the Governor remove the troops from the +Neck." While speaking, John Devereux rose from his chair, and paced up +and down the room in angry excitement. +</P> + +<P> +"Aye, very true, sir," Johnnie assented, as he drained the last drop of +spirits from his glass. "But however will such a thing be brought +about?" +</P> + +<P> +"I don't know," was the impatient reply. "But it must and shall be +brought about, if we have to rise up and drive them out by main force, +and at the risk of turning our very streets into a battle-ground. And +this is the only thing that has kept us from doing it long ago. But +their insulting tyranny only grows worse, and they seek deliberately to +stir up the people to rash actions; and these, when reported, serve but +to hurt the real cause of our revolting, when tidings of them comes to +the King's hearing." +</P> + +<P> +"Aye, no doubt," the pedler agreed, as he arose from the table. "Now, +if His Majesty could be got to sit down, comfort'ble, like another man +might, an' listen to all we could tell him, he might agree to let us +have what we want, an' what is only fair we should have, an' no +fightin' need be done o'er the matter. The trouble is in this +everlastin' lot o' lyin', gabblin' poll-parrots that he puts atwixt +himself an' us, to tell him what the people do an' don't say an' do. +An' to the poll-parrots he listens, and, listenin', b'lieves. So, for +one, I should say the quicker we fight it out—whether it be in our +streets or up to Boston—" +</P> + +<P> +Mary now came into the room looking very grave; and her husband, paying +no further attention to the pedler, asked anxiously, "What is amiss, +sweet wife?" +</P> + +<P> +She tried to speak quietly, but the tremor in her voice told of alarm. +</P> + +<P> +"Dorothy is awake," she said, "and I think you had best see her at +once. She seems ill." +</P> + +<P> +They left the room together and were soon standing at the girl's +bed,—one on either side, looking down at the restlessly moving head. +</P> + +<P> +The big eyes stared at Jack for an instant with evident recognition. +Then a vacant look came into them, and she laughed in a way to fill him +with apprehension. +</P> + +<P> +A moment more, and she began to mutter—something about Hugh Knollys +falling into the water, and how dark and cool it was, and that she +wanted to go into it, for she was hot,—so hot. +</P> + +<P> +"She is out of her head," Mary whispered; "and this is the way she went +on, to me, before I called you." +</P> + +<P> +Her husband looked again at the unquiet little figure, and reached down +to take the small hand wandering about the coverlid; but she snatched +it from his clasp. +</P> + +<P> +"Go away,—go far away!" she cried. "I told you to go, and I meant it. +Oh, yes,—I did mean it. I am only crying because I hate you,—never +think it is for anything else. I hate you because your coat is +red,—red, like the ruby ring you forced on my finger whether I would +or no. And even the ring did not want to stay, for it knew me better +than you did. It was so big that you had to hold it on; and now I've +put it away safe,—safe, where no one will ever see, ever know. But it +is red, and red means cruelty; and that is what this war is to be." +</P> + +<P> +The babbling died away in a moan; but before Jack or his wife could +speak, Dorothy began again, now in a stronger voice than before. +</P> + +<P> +"Moll said it must bring sorrow,—sorrow. And yet she said I wound him +like a silken thread around my finger. Ah, <I>that</I> winds tight, +although the ring was loose. And the thread Moll spoke of means love, +but the ring means—But no, I must not tell, never, never, for it would +kill my father. Father, I want you,—where are you?" +</P> + +<P> +This came in a loud cry, and she sank back sobbing, on the +pillows,—for she had struggled partially to her elbow, where Jack held +her so that she could rise no farther. +</P> + +<P> +"Mary, what is to be done?" asked the young man helplessly, anxiety and +fear having for the moment deprived him of his usual promptness and +decision. +</P> + +<P> +"Don't you think we had best send for your father and Aunt Lettice?" +Mary said in her calm way, although the tears were running down her +cheeks. "And the doctor must be called at once." +</P> + +<P> +"Leet has already gone into the town to tell them that Dot is here. +But I will have Trent put the horses into the sleigh, and he and I will +hasten in at once and fetch them all back, and the doctor as well, +unless he can come out ahead of us. You will stop right here beside +her, won't you, sweetheart?" he added anxiously, as he turned to leave +the room. +</P> + +<P> +"Why, of course I will." And Mary looked at her husband a little +reproachfully. +</P> + +<P> +"And you do not mind being left alone?" he asked, looking back over his +shoulder, while his hand gripped the open door in a way that told of +the tension upon him. +</P> + +<P> +She shook her head, smiling at him through her tears. +</P> + +<P> +Jack had no sooner gone than the faithful Tyntie came to see if she +were needed. But Mary sent her away with the assurance that she +herself could do all that was to be done at present. +</P> + +<P> +The ravings of the sick girl troubled her; and she deemed it prudent +that no other ear should hear words she felt might have a hidden +meaning. +</P> + +<P> +Dorothy still rambled on about the ruby ring and scarlet coat. Once +the name of Master Weeks fell from her lips, coupled with wild +lamentations that she had ever signed the register, and so risked the +breaking of her father's heart. +</P> + +<P> +After a little time—Dorothy having become quiet—Mary stood looking +out of the window, her eyes resting on the glittering fields that +spread away to the gray line of the ocean, where the cold waves were +curling in with glassy backs, and foam-ridged edges as white as the +snow they seemed to seek upon the land. +</P> + +<P> +She had been watching the gulls circling about with shrill screams or +hanging poised over the water, when a low call caused her to start. +</P> + +<P> +She turned at once, to see Dorothy sitting up and looking intently at +her, while she seemed to fumble under the pillow for something. +</P> + +<P> +"What is it, dear?" Mary asked, hastening to the side of the bed. +</P> + +<P> +Dorothy drew from beneath the pillow a heavy ring of yellow gold, with +a great ruby imbedded in it, like a drop of glowing wine. +</P> + +<P> +"There it is," she whispered, putting the ring into Mary's hand. "It +is his ring,—only he gave it to me. Hide it,—hide it, Mary. Never +let any one see—any one know. I want to tell you all about it, but I +am so tired now, so tired, and—" The girl fell back with closed eyes, +and in a moment she appeared to be asleep. +</P> + +<P> +After standing a few minutes with her eyes fixed upon the unconscious +face, Mary opened her hand and looked at the ring. +</P> + +<P> +It was a man's ring, and one she recalled at once as having seen before. +</P> + +<P> +It had been upon the shapely brown hand lifted to remove the hat from a +young man's head, that summer day, at the Sachem's Cave. +</P> + +<P> +There came to her a sudden rush of misgiving, as she asked herself the +meaning of it all. What had this hated Britisher's ring to do with +Dorothy's illness and with her ravings? What was all this about Master +Weeks, and signing the register? +</P> + +<P> +She determined to tell her husband of what she had heard and seen, and +let his judgment decide what was to be done. +</P> + +<P> +And yet when he returned, and with him his father and Aunt Lettice and +'Bitha, all of them sad-faced and alarmed over Dorothy's sudden +sickness, something seemed to hold back the words Mary had intended to +speak. And so she said nothing to her husband, but hid the ring away, +resolved that for the present, at least, she would hold her own counsel. +</P> + +<P> +After all—so she tried to reason—it might be nothing more than that +the young Britisher had given Dorothy the ring. +</P> + +<P> +And yet that the girl should accept such a gift from him surprised and +grieved her, knowing as she did that had there been any lovemaking +between the two, it would surely bring greater trouble than she dared +now to consider. +</P> + +<P> +Mary was one who always shrank from doing aught to cause discord; and +so, albeit with a mind filled with anxiety, she decided to keep silence. +</P> + +<P> +Dorothy's ailment proved to be an attack of brain fever, and it was +many weeks before she recovered. And when she was pronounced well +again, she went about the old house, such a pale-faced, listless shadow +of her former self that her brother watched her with troubled eyes, +while her father was well-nigh beside himself with anxiety. +</P> + +<P> +But as often as they spoke to her of their misgivings she answered that +she was entirely well, and would soon be quite as before. +</P> + +<P> +She appeared to have forgotten about the ring, and Mary waited for her +to mention it, wondering after a time that she did not. +</P> + +<P> +At last, late in January, the hated soldiers were ordered away from the +Neck; and great was the rejoicing amongst the townspeople, whose open +demonstrations evinced their delight at being freed from the petty +tyranny of their unwelcome visitors. +</P> + +<P> +It was John Devereux who brought the news, as the other members of the +family sat late one afternoon about the big fireplace in the +drawing-room. +</P> + +<P> +Aunt Lettice and Mary were busy with some matter of sewing, and 'Bitha, +with an unusually grave face, was seated between them on a low stool. +A half-finished sampler was on her knee, and the firelight quivered +along the bright needle resting where she had left off when it became +too dark for her to work. +</P> + +<P> +Dorothy was at the spinet, drawing low music from the keys, and playing +as if her thoughts were far away. +</P> + +<P> +Her father had just come from out of doors, and now sat in his big +armchair, with his hands near the blaze, for the cold had increased +with the setting of the sun. +</P> + +<P> +It had gone down half an hour before, leaving a great crimson gash in +the western sky, above which ran a bank of smoky gray clouds, where the +evening star was beginning to blink. +</P> + +<P> +It had been a day of thawing. The sun had started the icy rime to +running from the trees and shrubs, and melted the snow upon the roofs, +while the white covering of the land was burned away here and there, +until it seemed to be out at knees and elbows, where showed the brown +and dirty green of the soil. +</P> + +<P> +But an intense cold had come with the darkness, turning the melted snow +to crystal, and hanging glittering pendants from everything. +</P> + +<P> +"I wish Cousin Dot was all well, the way she used to be," sighed small +'Bitha, sitting with her rosy face so rumpled by the pressure of the +little supporting palms as to remind one of the cherubs seen upon +ancient tombstones. +</P> + +<P> +She spoke in a voice too low for any one to hear save those nearest +her; and Mary gave a warning "Hush," as she glanced at the abstracted +face of her father-in-law, who was gazing intently at the flames +leaping from the logs. +</P> + +<P> +"She 'll not hear what I say," the child went on, now with a touch of +impatience. "She often does n't hear me when I speak to her. Many +times I ask her something over and over again, when she is looking +straight at me; and then she will act as if she'd been asleep, and ask +me what I've been saying." +</P> + +<P> +"Your cousin was very ill, you must remember, 'Bitha," her grandame +explained; "and it takes her a long time to recover, and be like +herself again." +</P> + +<P> +But the child shook her blonde head with an air of profound wisdom. +</P> + +<P> +"I think it is only that bad medicine of Dr. Paine's," she said. "When +I am ill, I shall ask Tyntie to fetch me a medicine man, such as the +Indians have. I should like to see him dance and beat his drum." +</P> + +<P> +"I should think we have had enough of the sound of beating drums, +'Bitha," replied Mary, speaking so sharply as to arouse her +father-in-law into looking toward her. +</P> + +<P> +Here John Devereux, just returned from the town, came in and announced +the withdrawal of the British soldiers from the town and Neck. +</P> + +<P> +"When will they go?" his wife asked eagerly. +</P> + +<P> +"A shipload of them has already sailed,—it left the harbor before +sunset; and some of the dragoons are about starting. It did my heart +good to see the red-backs taking the road to Salem. We are well quit +of them; and when they are gone we can easily manage all the ships they +send into the harbor to annoy us or spy upon us." +</P> + +<P> +He laughed with a mingling of indignation and contempt; but his manner +changed quickly as he glanced toward his sister. +</P> + +<P> +"Dot!" he cried, "what is it, child?" And he sprang to her. +</P> + +<P> +She had turned about when he came into the room, and was now lying back +against the spinet, her head on the music-rack,—lying there +speechless, motionless; for the girl—and for the first time in her +life—had fainted. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap24"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XXIV +</H3> + +<P> +An hour later, when left in her own room with Mary, Dorothy poured out +her secret sorrow. +</P> + +<P> +The others had yielded to her urging and gone to the tea-table below, +albeit with scant appetites, and with minds much troubled over the +strange weakness that had come over Dot. But Mary remained; and so it +came about that the two were now alone, Dorothy lying upon a lounge, +and Mary beside her, clasping one of her hands. +</P> + +<P> +The room was filled with weird shadows from the wood fire, which made +the only light; for Jack, at his sister's request, had carried away the +candles. +</P> + +<P> +"Are you cold?" Mary asked, feeling Dorothy shiver. And she drew the +silken cover more closely about the girl's shoulders and neck. +</P> + +<P> +"No—no," was the quick reply. "It's not that I'm cold. I'm only so +miserable that I don't know what to do with myself. Oh, Mary—if only +I might die!" And she burst into passionate sobbing. +</P> + +<P> +Mary was greatly startled; but feeling that the time was now come to +unravel the secret she was certain had been the cause of Dorothy's +illness, she waited quietly until the first burst of grief had spent +itself, while she soothed and caressed her sister-in-law as though she +were a little girl. +</P> + +<P> +Presently the sobs became less fierce, then ceased altogether, ending +with a long, quivering sigh, as from a child worn out by the storm of +its own passion. +</P> + +<P> +Mary felt that now was the opportunity for which she had been waiting. +</P> + +<P> +"Dorothy," she whispered—"dear little Dot!" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes." The word came so faintly as scarcely to be audible. +</P> + +<P> +"When are you going to open your heart to me? Don't you love nor trust +me any longer?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, Mary, you know I do, and always have." The girl said this with +something of her old impulsiveness, and pressed Mary's hands almost +convulsively. +</P> + +<P> +"Then will you not tell me, dear?" said Mary coaxingly, bending to kiss +the troubled face. +</P> + +<P> +There was silence, broken only by the crackling of the burning wood and +the sputtering of the sap from the logs. +</P> + +<P> +Dorothy drew a long breath, as though she had done away with wavering, +and was now resolved to speak. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, I will," she answered. "But remember, Mary," and she seemed +filled with fear again, "you can tell no one,—no living person,—not +even Jack. At least not yet. You will promise me this?" +</P> + +<P> +"Has it aught to do with that ring?" asked Mary, before committing +herself. +</P> + +<P> +"What ring?" Dorothy's eyes opened wide, and she spoke sharply. +</P> + +<P> +"Don't you remember the ring you gave me when you were so ill, and told +me to keep for you,—a man's ring, with a ruby set in it?" +</P> + +<P> +"No." She said it vaguely, wonderingly, as if dreaming. Then she +cried in terror, "Oh, Mary, you did not show it to Jack, nor tell him +or my father of the matter?" +</P> + +<P> +"No, my dear," Mary answered with an assuring smile. "I waited until +you were well enough to tell me more, or else tell them yourself." +</P> + +<P> +"Good Mary,—good, true sister." And Dorothy pressed her lips to the +hand she clasped. +</P> + +<P> +"But the matter has given me such a heartache, Dot, for I feared I +might be doing wrong. Surely no one can love you more than your own +father and brother. Why not tell them, as well as me, of—whatever it +is?" +</P> + +<P> +"I will, Mary," Dorothy said resolutely. "I intended to, all the time. +But not yet, not yet. I want to tell you, first of all, and see if you +can think what is best to be done. And," with a little shudder, "I +thought I had lost the ring; and the first day I was able to slip out +of doors, I hunted for it where I got off the horse that night. Oh, +that dreadful night!" She almost cried out the words as the sharpness +of awakened sorrow came to her. +</P> + +<P> +"Come, Dot," Mary urged, "tell me. I'll promise to keep silent until +you bid me speak." She knew they were losing precious time, for her +husband would not be long gone, having promised to return in order that +she might go down for her own supper. +</P> + +<P> +Dorothy hesitated no longer, but, in the fewest possible words, +unburdened her heart, while Mary listened in speechless amazement. +</P> + +<P> +Her indignation and horror grew apace until the story was all told. +Then she cried: "It was a cowardly, unmanly trick,—a traitor's deed! +He is no gentleman, with all his fine pretence of manners." +</P> + +<P> +"Ah—but he is." And Dorothy sighed softly, and in a way to have +opened Mary's eyes, had she been less absorbed by the anger now +controlling her. +</P> + +<P> +"By birth, mayhap," she admitted, although reluctantly; then adding +fiercely, "he surely is not one in his acts." +</P> + +<P> +Then her voice grew gentle again, and the tears seemed to be near, as +she laid her head alongside the curly one upon the pillow. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, my poor, poor little Dot," she said; "to think of the dreadful +thing you have been carrying in your mind all this time! Small wonder +that you were pale and sad,—it was enough to kill you." +</P> + +<P> +The words brought Dorothy's grief to her once more. Then Mary broke +down as well, and the two wept together, their heads touching each +other on the pillow. +</P> + +<P> +"And now whatever is to be done?" Mary said, as soon as her calmness +returned,—a calmness filled with indignation and resentment. "Since +this man is surely your husband, you must needs obey him, I suppose, if +he insists upon it. And now that he is going away, it would seem +natural for him to come here, despite his promise to wait until he was +asked. And I should say he would be quite sure to demand that you go +away with him. And," almost in terror, "for your father to hear of it +for the first time in such a fashion, and from him!" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, Mary, don't talk in that way!" cried Dorothy, in affright, and +clinging still closer to her. +</P> + +<P> +"But never you fear, Dot," Mary said more encouragingly, "so long as +Jack is here to look after you. That man will never dare seek to drag +you from your father's house while Jack is about. And besides, the +townspeople would never permit him to leave the place alive, should he +attempt such a thing." +</P> + +<P> +"I won't go—I'll never go!" Dorothy exclaimed passionately. "But—" +Her voice took a different note, and she stopped. +</P> + +<P> +"But—what?" asked Mary instantly, for she heard her husband's +footsteps on the uncarpeted staircase. +</P> + +<P> +"I don't want any harm to befall him," was the tremulous answer. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, Dot," Mary began in dismay, "can it be possible that, after all, +you—" +</P> + +<P> +But Dorothy interrupted her. +</P> + +<P> +"Hush!" she whispered, "here comes Jack." Then beseechingly, "Oh, +Mary, say once more that you'll not tell him yet." +</P> + +<P> +But her husband was already in the room, and all Mary could do was to +press Dorothy's hand. +</P> + +<P> +A little later in the evening all the members of the family were again +in the drawing-room. Dorothy, in order to relieve their anxiety, and +especially on her father's account, had joined them; and the girl now +made greater efforts than ever before to appear like herself. +</P> + +<P> +This was now easier for her, from having shared her burdensome secret +with Mary, who seemed to have taken upon her shoulders a good part of +the troublesome load. +</P> + +<P> +She carried herself with a much quieter mien than usual, but in a way +not to excite comment, save when her husband said to her as they were +closing the shutters to keep out the night and make the room still more +cosey, "What is it, sweetheart,—are you troubled over Dot?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," she replied, thankful that she could answer so truthfully. +</P> + +<P> +"The child is going to be as she should, I am sure," he said, glancing +over his shoulder to where his sister was sitting, close beside her +father, her head resting against his shoulder. She was smiling at +something Aunt Lettice had been telling of 'Bitha, whom she had just +been putting to bed. +</P> + +<P> +Before Mary could say anything more, a sudden clatter of hoofs outside +announced the arrival of horsemen, and a minute later the sounding of +the heavy brass knocker echoed through the hall. +</P> + +<P> +Dorothy and Mary looked at each other in alarm, the same intuition +making them fear what this might portend. +</P> + +<P> +"Whatever can it be at this hour!" exclaimed Joseph Devereux, as his +son went to answer the noisy summons. "I hope nothing is wrong in the +town." +</P> + +<P> +There came the sound of men's voices, low at first, but soon growing +louder, and then almost menacing, as the outer door was sharply closed. +</P> + +<P> +"And I say, sirrah,"—it was the voice of John Devereux—"that you +cannot see her." +</P> + +<P> +Dorothy sprang from her father's side and sped to the door, which she +flung wide open, and stood, with widening eyes and pale cheeks, upon +the threshold. A moment more, and Mary was alongside her; and then, +his face filled with amazement and anger, Joseph Devereux followed them. +</P> + +<P> +Standing with his back against the closed door, was a stalwart young +dragoon, his red uniform making a ruddy gleam in the dimly lit hall as +he angrily confronted the son of the house. +</P> + +<P> +But no sooner did he catch sight of the small figure in the open +doorway than the anger left his face, and he stood before her with +uncovered head, paying no more heed to the others than if they had been +part of the furniture in the hall. +</P> + +<P> +"Sweet Mistress Dorothy," he said,—and his eyes searched her face with +a passionate inquiry—"we are ordered away, as you may have heard. I +am leaving the town to-night, and could not go until I had seen you +once more." +</P> + +<P> +The eyes looking up into his were filled with many emotions, but +Dorothy made no reply. +</P> + +<P> +He waited a moment for her to speak. Then an eager, appealing look +came to his face, and he asked, "Have you naught to say to me—no word +for me before I go?" +</P> + +<P> +Joseph Devereux now found his voice. +</P> + +<P> +"Aught to say to ye, sirrah!" he demanded furiously. "What should a +daughter o' mine have to say to one of His Majesty's officers, who has +been to this house but once before, and then, as now, only by means of +his own audacity?" +</P> + +<P> +At the sound of this angry voice Dorothy shuddered, and tearing her +eyes from those blue ones that had not once left her face, she turned +quickly and clung to her father. +</P> + +<P> +The young man laughed, but not pleasantly, and there was a nervous +twitching of the fingers resting upon the hilt of his sword. +</P> + +<P> +"You are surely aware, sir," he said, "that I have the honor of a +slight acquaintance with your daughter. And I fail to see why I should +be insulted, simply because I was mistaken in holding it to be but +natural courtesy that I should bid her farewell." +</P> + +<P> +Here his voice broke in a way that was strange to all save Dorothy and +Mary, as he added: "We leave this place to-morrow, sir, and your +daughter and myself are never like to meet again; and I had good reason +to wish the privilege of begging her forgiveness for aught I may have +done to cause her annoyance. And if she refused me forgiveness, then +she might be pleased to wish me a right speedy meeting with a bullet +from one of her own people's guns." +</P> + +<P> +Joseph Devereux looked sorely puzzled at these strange words, which +seemed to bear some hidden meaning. Then, as he felt the quivering of +the slight form clinging to him so closely, and heard the tremulous +"Oh, father, speak him kindly," his face relaxed and he spoke less +brusquely than at first. +</P> + +<P> +"Your conduct seems rather cavalier, young sir, but we surely have no +wish to seem insulting; and as for any annoyance you may have caused my +daughter, I am ignorant o' such. It is but natural, considering the +times, that we do not relish receiving into our houses gentry who wear +such color as is your coat; and yet we are not cut-throats, either in +deed or thought. We pray and hope for the good of our country and +cause; and for such, and such only, do we think o' the use o' bullets." +</P> + +<P> +During all this time the dragoon's eyes never strayed from the curly +head pressed against the old man's arm. And now, while her father was +speaking, Dorothy's face was turned, and the big dark eyes, full of +perplexity and fear, met his own and held them. +</P> + +<P> +Mary had made a sign to her husband, and he followed her into the +drawing-room, where Aunt Lettice was still sitting before the fire, the +trembling fingers betraying her excitement as they flashed the slender +needles back and forth through the stocking she was knitting. +</P> + +<P> +"What does it all mean, dear?" she inquired, as Mary came and looked +down into the fire, while she twisted her hands together in a nervous +fashion most unusual with her. +</P> + +<P> +"It means," John Devereux answered angrily, but not loud enough to +reach the ears of those in the hall, "that there is never any telling +to what length the presuming impudence of these redcoats will go." He +ground his teeth savagely as he wondered why he had not taken the +intruder by the collar and ejected him before the others came upon the +scene; and he was now angry at himself for not having done this. +</P> + +<P> +"Whatever can he wish to say good-by to Dot for?" he muttered hastily +to his wife. "And whatever can he mean about annoying her? Annoy her, +indeed! Had he done such a thing, I should have heard of it ere this, +and he would not have gone unpunished all these days, to crawl in now +with a pretence of apology." +</P> + +<P> +"It seems to me there was little show of crawling in the way he came," +said Mary, with the ghost of a smile, and speaking only because her +husband seemed to be expecting her to say something. Her brain was in +a tumult as she wondered what would be the end of all this, and what +would—what could poor Dorothy do for her own peace of mind and that of +her father? +</P> + +<P> +She feared that, should a sudden knowledge of the truth come to him, it +might be his death-blow; and she made no doubt that if her hot-headed +husband knew it, the young dragoon would scarcely be permitted to leave +the house unscathed, if indeed he were not killed outright. And then +she thought of a duel,—of its chances, and of her husband not being +the one to survive. +</P> + +<P> +At this a low cry escaped from her lips before she could prevent it; +and her husband stepped closer to her side. +</P> + +<P> +"It is nothing—nothing," she said brokenly, in response to his anxious +questioning. "I was but thinking." +</P> + +<P> +"Thinking of what, sweetheart?" +</P> + +<P> +"If any harm should befall you," she answered. +</P> + +<P> +"Why, what harm, think you, should come to me?" And he took her hands, +holding them close, while he tried to look into her averted eyes. +</P> + +<P> +"I—don't know," she said evasively. "These are such dreadful times +that have come to us, that no one can tell what is like to happen. +Oh," with a sudden impetuous burst, more suited to Dorothy than to her +own calm self, "I wish there had never been such a nation as the +English!" +</P> + +<P> +When Joseph Devereux had done speaking, the young man turned his eyes +from the pale face in which he seemed to have been searching for some +hint or suggestion as to what he should now say. +</P> + +<P> +That his quest was fruitless,—that he found nothing, no fleeting +glance or expression, to indicate the girl's present feeling toward +him, was apparent from the look of keen disappointment, well-nigh +despair, that now settled upon his own face, making it almost ghastly +in the uncertain light. +</P> + +<P> +But despite all this, his self-control did not leave him; and after one +more glance into the dark eyes—fixed and set, as though there was no +life animating them—he drew himself erect, and made an odd gesture +with his right hand, flinging it out as if forever thrusting aside all +further thought of her. Then, without looking at her again, he +addressed her father. +</P> + +<P> +"It was not to discuss such matters that I ventured to force my way +into this house, sir," he said with a dignified courtesy hardly to be +looked for in one of his years. "It was only that I could not—or felt +that I should not—go away without holding speech with Mistress +Dorothy. It would seem that she has naught to say to me, and so I have +only to beg her pardon, and take my leave. And, sir, I entreat the +same pardon from you and the other members of your household for any +inconvenience I may have caused you and them." +</P> + +<P> +He bowed to the old gentleman, and turned slowly away. But before he +had taken many steps toward the outer door, Dorothy's voice arrested +him, and he turned quickly about. +</P> + +<P> +"Stay—wait a moment." And leaving her father's side, she went toward +the young man. +</P> + +<P> +"Believe me," she said, speaking very low and very gently, as she +paused while yet a few steps away from him, "I wish you well, not harm." +</P> + +<P> +"Do you still hold to what you told me?" he asked quickly, paying no +heed to her words. +</P> + +<P> +His voice did not reach her father's ears; and the young man's eyes +searched her face as though his fate depended upon what he might read +there. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes!" The answer was as low-pitched as his question, but firm and +fearless. And he saw the fingers of both little hands clench +themselves in the folds of her gown, while the lace kerchief crossed +over her bosom seemed to pulsate with the angry throbbing of her heart. +</P> + +<P> +"And you will never forgive me?" He spoke now in a louder tone, but +with the same pleading look in his pale face. +</P> + +<P> +Dorothy's eyes met his own fairly and steadily, but she said nothing. +</P> + +<P> +He waited a second, and then bending quickly, he clasped both her hands +and carried them to his lips. +</P> + +<P> +"God help me," he said hoarsely, as he released them,—"God help both +of us!" +</P> + +<P> +With this he turned away, and opening the door, went out into the +darkness. +</P> + +<P> +Dorothy stood perfectly still, with her father staring perplexedly into +her white face. It had all passed too quickly for him to +interfere,—to speak, even, had he been so minded. +</P> + +<P> +At the sound of the closing door John Devereux came again into the +hall; and now the noise of horses' hoofs was heard, dying away outside. +</P> + +<P> +"Dot—my child, what is it?" her father exclaimed, his heart stirred by +a presentiment of some ill he could not define. And he moved toward +the mute figure standing like a statue in the centre of the wide hall. +</P> + +<P> +But John was there before him; and as he passed his arm around her, she +started, and a dry, gasping breath broke from her lips,—one that might +have been a sob, had there been any sign of tears in the wild eyes that +seemed to hold no sight as they were turned to her brother's face. +</P> + +<P> +"Dot—little sister," he cried, "tell me—what is the matter?" +</P> + +<P> +And Mary, now close beside them, added quickly, "Tell him, Dot,—tell +him now." +</P> + +<P> +"Tell," Dorothy repeated mechanically, her voice sounding strained and +husky. "Tell—tell him yourself, Mary. Tell him that—" And she +fell, a dead weight, against her brother's breast. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap25"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XXV +</H3> + +<P> +Whether it was due to ordinary physical causes, or was the result of +mental agitation arising from what has been told herein, cannot well be +determined; but, soon after Dorothy had been carried to her +room,—conscious, but in a condition to forbid all questioning or +explanation—her father was taken with what in the language of that day +was termed a "seizure,"—so serious as to alarm the household, and +divert all thoughts from other affairs. +</P> + +<P> +He had been pacing up and down the drawing-room, now deserted by all +save himself and his son. His hands were clasped behind him, his chin +was sunk upon his breast, and his brows knit as though from anxious +thought. +</P> + +<P> +Jack sat staring into the fire; and both were waiting for the return of +either Mary or Aunt Lettice, both of whom had gone to Dorothy's room to +give her such attention as she might require. +</P> + +<P> +It was Mary who came to announce that the girl was now better, and +that, having taken a sleeping potion administered by Aunt Lettice, she +wished to see her father. +</P> + +<P> +The old gentleman left the room with a brisk step; and Mary's eyes +followed him nervously as she went over and seated herself by her +husband. +</P> + +<P> +They were silent for a time, both of them watching the flames that +arched from the logs over the fiery valleys and miniature cliffs made +by the burnt and charred wood, until Jack asked suddenly, "Why do you +not tell me now, sweetheart?" +</P> + +<P> +Mary well knew what he meant; but she waited a moment, thinking how +best she might reveal the sad and terrible matter she had to disclose. +</P> + +<P> +"Mary,"—he now spoke a little impatiently, and as though to rouse her +from her abstraction—"tell me what all this means." +</P> + +<P> +She stole a hand into his, and then repeated to him all that Dorothy +had told her. +</P> + +<P> +He listened with fast-growing anger; and then, coupled with his first +outburst of rage against the hated redcoat, were reproaches for his +wife, that she had not sooner informed him of the trouble. +</P> + +<P> +"He would never have left the house alive, had I known it before," he +cried savagely. "As it is, I'll ride after him as soon as day comes, +and call him to an accounting for his villany,—the dastardly +scoundrel! And Mary—oh, my wife, how could you keep it from me till +now?" +</P> + +<P> +Her heart sank at this, the first note of reproof or displeasure his +voice had ever held for her. +</P> + +<P> +"You must remember, Jack," she pleaded, "how sorely I was distressed to +know what to do, for I had given my promise to Dot, and could not break +it. And you must know as well that it was not until this very evening +that I learned of the matter." +</P> + +<P> +"True," he admitted. "But"—persistently—"there was the ruby ring, +when the child was first taken ill; how could you keep that from me?" +</P> + +<P> +He spoke reproachfully, but his voice was growing softer, and his anger +was now gone, for Mary was sobbing, her head against his breast. And +this was as strange to him as his harsh words had been to her. +</P> + +<P> +"I'll never—never keep any matter from you again," she protested +brokenly. "I promise it, Jack, for now I see it was very wrong." +</P> + +<P> +"There—there, sweetheart," he said soothingly, as he stroked her +bright hair,—"'t is all well for us now, and will ever be, if you but +keep to what you say. But Dot—poor little Dot!" And his anger came +again. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, that villain, that cursed villain,—but he shall reckon with me +for this outrage! And 't is well for that scoundrel Weeks that he's +been made to flee the town for his seditious sentiments and preachings." +</P> + +<P> +"But," Mary explained, "Dot said he was forced to do it, at peril of +his life; that he—the Englishman—held a pistol to his head and swore +he'd shoot him if he refused." +</P> + +<P> +"Pah," said Jack, contemptuously, "he'd never have dared go so far as +that. Master Weeks is but a poor coward." Then he asked quickly, +"Think you, Mary, that Dot is telling our father aught of the matter +now?" +</P> + +<P> +"I cannot say," was his wife's irresolute answer. "I fear so, and yet +I cannot but hope so, as well,—for how can another ever tell him?" +</P> + +<P> +"Aye," groaned the young man; "it will come nigh to killing him." +</P> + +<P> +But Dorothy had not told her father anything. No sooner had he come to +her bedside than her eyes filled with a contented light, and slipping +her hand within his close clasp, she fell tranquilly asleep, too +stunned and numbed by physical weakness and contending emotions,—her +senses too dulled from the effects of Aunt Lettice's draught—to find +words wherein to pour out her heart to him. +</P> + +<P> +He left her sleeping quietly, and returned to those below; and soon +thereafter the seizure came, and he fell back in his chair, speechless, +with closed eyes and inert limbs. +</P> + +<P> +</P> + +<P> +It was Mary and Aunt Lettice who ministered to him, with the help of +his son and the faithful Tyntie, who was summoned from Dorothy's room, +where she had been sent to watch the sleeping girl. +</P> + +<P> +Leet was too old and slow of movement to be entrusted with the +summoning of Dr. Paine; and Trent, who slept in one of the outer +buildings, was aroused and despatched forthwith, with orders to use all +possible speed, as they feared the master was already dead or dying. +</P> + +<P> +They carried him at once to his own bed, where he lay unconscious, with +no change in his appearance or breathing; and his son, sitting beside +him, gazed with agonized eyes upon the white face lying against the +pillows, his own face almost as white, and seeming to have aged under +this flood of sorrow now opened in their midst. +</P> + +<P> +It was well along toward morning, although yet dark, with the sky +cloudless and gemmed with stars, before Dr. Paine arrived. +</P> + +<P> +The first thing the bustling little man did was to bleed his patient, +as was then the practice in treating most ailments. Its present +efficacy was soon apparent, for it was not long before the labored, +irregular breathing became more natural and the old man opened his eyes. +</P> + +<P> +But there was an unusual look in them,—one that never went away. And +although after a time he recovered some of his strength, and was able +to go about the house, the hale, rugged health and vigorous manhood +were gone forever, and Joseph Devereux remained but a shadow of his +former self. +</P> + +<P> +His days were all alike,—passed in sitting before the fire downstairs, +or else dozing in his own room; and he had neither care nor thought for +the matters that had once been of such moment to him. +</P> + +<P> +The others were with him constantly, to guard against possible accident +or harm, as well as to do all in their power in smoothing the way for +the loved one they felt was soon to leave them. And he, as well as +themselves, albeit he never spoke of it, seemed to understand +this,—that they, like him, were waiting for the end, when he should be +summoned by the voice none can deny. +</P> + +<P> +And thus he remained day after day, spending much of his time with the +other members of his family,—listening apparently to all they might +say to him or to one another; but sitting with silent lips, and eyes +that seemed to grow larger and more wondrous in expression and light, +as if already looking into that mysterious world,— +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +"Beyond the journeyings of the sun,<BR> +Where streams of living waters run,"—<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +that world whose glories no speech might convey to earthly +understanding. +</P> + +<P> +"I can never tell him now," Dorothy said with bitter sorrow, addressing +Mary, as the two were alone in the dining-room. It was one of the days +when her father had risen for his morning meal, and, after sitting with +them awhile, had returned to his room to lie down. +</P> + +<P> +"'T is best not, dear," Mary assented. "Do not burden his heart now, +for it would only give him bitter sorrow to brood over. Jack knows the +whole matter, and he can do all that is to be done." +</P> + +<P> +"And what is that?" Dorothy asked, speaking a little sharply. +</P> + +<P> +"Call the man to a strict account," was Mary's reply, with anger now +showing in her voice. +</P> + +<P> +"No, Mary, no," cried Dorothy, with much of her old spirit. "That must +not be,—at least not now." Then more gently, as she observed Mary's +look of surprise, "Naught that he nor any one can say or do will mend +what has been done; and it is my earnest wish that the matter be let +alone, just as it is, for the present. Perhaps the future may show +some way out of it." But she spoke as though saying one thing and +meaning quite another. +</P> + +<P> +"Will you tell Jack all this?" Mary asked, with an odd look. +</P> + +<P> +"Me?" cried Dorothy, in great alarm. "No, no, Mary; you must do that. +I do not wish to have him speak to me of the matter; I could not bear +it." And she covered her face with her hands, as if to shut out the +very prospect of such a thing. +</P> + +<P> +Mary's white forehead wrinkled as though from perplexity, while her +slender fingers tapped nervously upon the arm of her chair. +</P> + +<P> +She knew not what to make of the girl,—of her words and actions, of +her strange and sudden sickness and faintings, of all that had come to +her since the advent of this young Britisher. +</P> + +<P> +And within these past few minutes a new anxiety had found its way into +her mind, and this prompted her to ask, "Can it be, Dot, that you have +permitted this stranger to come between you and your only brother, who +loves you best of all in the world?" +</P> + +<P> +But Dorothy evaded the question. "That he does not," she asserted, +taking her hands from in front of her face and trying to smile; "'t is +you he loves best of all." +</P> + +<P> +Mary flushed a little, but replied with tender earnestness, "But you +know, Dot, he and I are one. We both love you next to each other, and +we wish to serve you and assure your happiness." +</P> + +<P> +Dorothy sighed and looked down at the floor. "I doubt if I shall ever +be happy again, Mary," she said; "and the best way to serve me is to +leave me alone and let me go my own way." +</P> + +<P> +She spoke as though wishing to dismiss the matter, and, rising from her +chair, walked over to the window and stood looking off over the meadow +lands and toward the sea. +</P> + +<P> +It was a cheering, hopeful sight, for the snow was gone, and everything +in nature was beginning to show a touch of the coming spring. +</P> + +<P> +Later that same morning they were in Mary's room, the young wife busy +with some sewing, while Dorothy, with much of the former color showing +in her face, was moving restlessly about. +</P> + +<P> +"Dorothy!" +</P> + +<P> +Mary spoke suddenly, as though impelled by a hasty resolution, and +there was a look in her blue eyes that made a fitting accompaniment to +her words; but she kept them averted from Dorothy, who had turned and +was coming slowly toward her. +</P> + +<P> +"Dorothy," she repeated, as the girl drew close to her, "where is that +ruby ring?" +</P> + +<P> +Dorothy came to a stop, and every drop of blood seemed to find its way +to her face. +</P> + +<P> +"Eh,—ring,—what ring?" She glanced at her hands, and then at Mary's +face, still turned partially away from her. +</P> + +<P> +"That ruby ring I gave you back, and advised that you throw it into the +fire or into the sea, and with it all thought of the dastardly giver." +</P> + +<P> +Dorothy did not reply, and Mary now looked at her as she said slowly +and distinctly, "If you cannot tell, I can. It is over your heart, +hanging about your neck on a chain." +</P> + +<P> +The girl gave a gasp, and Mary saw her face paling, only to flush +again, while the dark eyes filled with tears. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, Dot," she cried, astonished and angry, "how can you love such a +man?" +</P> + +<P> +Dorothy threw herself on her knees and hid her face in Mary's lap, +sobbing as if the words had broken a seal set to keep this knowledge +from even her own heart. +</P> + +<P> +"I don't know, Mary, but I do—I do love him, and have, for always. +And now he has gone—gone away, thinking I hate him, and I may never +see him again." +</P> + +<P> +Mary put her arms around the little form, and used all her efforts to +soothe the passionate outburst. She could not but feel that she had +been wise in thus forcing Dorothy to open her heart, for not only did +she know the girl would feel better for having spoken, but she herself +had a new and most important fact to guide her own future action. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap26"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XXVI +</H3> + +<P> +Mary felt that she must lose no time in making her husband as wise as +herself with respect to Dorothy's real sentiments, and in having him +understand that he could not bring any harm to the young Britisher +without making his sister all the more unhappy. +</P> + +<P> +She wondered what Jack would say—as to the effect it would have upon +his temper and actions. But she was determined upon this,—that if he +showed resentment or anger, she would assert herself in Dorothy's +defence, feeling as she did that it was too late to do other than +submit to what fate had brought about, and all the more especially, +since Dorothy had confessed to loving this man. +</P> + +<P> +"I could almost wish he had been killed outright the morning I made him +tumble over the rocks," she said to herself, "or that he had fallen +into the sea, never to be seen again." Then, realizing that this was +little short of murder, she shrank from such musings, shocked to find +herself so wicked. +</P> + +<P> +There came still another burden of sorrow when she imparted the whole +truth to her husband. +</P> + +<P> +He listened with a brooding face, only the unusual glitter in his eyes +showing how it stirred him. Then, after a long silence, while he +appeared to be turning the matter in his mind, he exclaimed, not +angrily, but with nothing showing in his voice save bitter +self-reproach: "Blind fool that I've been, seeking to keep my little +sister a child in thought. And right here, under my very eyes, has she +become a woman, both in love and suffering!" +</P> + +<P> +He sprang to his feet and began to pace back and forth, his wife +watching him with troubled eyes. Presently he came and looked down +into her face. +</P> + +<P> +His own was pale, but it had a set, determined expression, as though +the struggle were over, and he had turned his back upon all the hopes +he had builded for his beloved sister,—upon what might have been, but +now never to be. +</P> + +<P> +"Sweetheart," he said, "there is one other we are bound in honor to +take into our confidence, to tell all we know of this sad matter, and +that is Hugh Knollys. He is not like to return here this many a day; +still it is possible he may, or that I may be sent to the neighborhood +of Boston before the summer comes. But whichever way I see him, I +shall have to tell him the truth. Poor old Hugh!" +</P> + +<P> +"Why, John!" But Mary's eyes filled with a look bespeaking full +knowledge of what he was to say, although she had never suspected it +until now. +</P> + +<P> +He told her of all that passed between Hugh and himself that night, so +many months ago. And when he finished, she could only sigh, and repeat +his own words, "Poor Hugh!" +</P> + +<P> +"Aye, poor Hugh, indeed, for I know the boy's heart well. It will be a +dreadful thing for him to face, and with his hands tied, as are my own, +against doing aught to the Britisher because his welfare matters so +much to Dot." +</P> + +<P> +Then he added almost impatiently: "I wish the child would let me talk +with her. She must, before I go away, else I'll speak without her +consent. So long as we are situated as now, it may do no harm to let +the matter drift along; but if I have to leave home—" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, Jack, don't speak of such a thing," Mary interrupted. And rising +quickly, she laid her hand on his shoulder as though to hold him fast. +</P> + +<P> +"Why not, sweetheart?" he said, compelled to smile at her anxiety. "We +know what we have to face in these distracting times; we knew it when +we married. Matters grow worse with every week, each day almost. But +we must be brave, my darling, and you will best hold me to my duty by +keeping a stout heart, no matter whether I go or stay. And go I am +pretty sure to, the same as every other man in the town, for we may +look, any day, for a battle somewhere about Boston." +</P> + +<P> +Mary clung to him shudderingly, but was silent. +</P> + +<P> +Hugh Knollys had been all this time at Cambridge, where troops were +mustering from every part of the land; and many men from Marblehead +were there or in the neighborhood. +</P> + +<P> +They had heard from him but once, and then through Johnnie Strings, +who, after this last trip—now over a month since—had returned to +Cambridge with a very indefinite notion as to when he would come back +to the old town. +</P> + +<P> +The pedler also reported having seen Aunt Penine, who was quartered +near Boston, at the house of some royalist relatives of her brother's +wife,—he himself having left his home in Lynn and taken up arms for +the King. +</P> + +<P> +Mistress Knollys was also away, for she had closed her homestead and +gone to stop with an only sister living at Dorchester,—doing this for +safety, and before the soldiers left the Neck. +</P> + +<P> +A decided feeling of impending war was now sharpened and well defined, +and all were waiting for the actual clash of arms. +</P> + +<P> +Late in February, His Majesty's ship "Lively," mounting twenty guns, +arrived in the harbor and came to anchor off the fort; and her officers +proceeded to make themselves fully as obnoxious as had the hated +soldiers. +</P> + +<P> +They diligently searched all incoming vessels that could by any pretext +be suspected; and where they found anything in the nature of military +stores, these were confiscated. +</P> + +<P> +One vessel, carrying a chest of arms destined for the town, was, +although anchored close to the "Lively," boarded one night by a party +of intrepid young men under the lead of one Samuel R. Trevett, who +succeeded in removing the arms, which they concealed on shore. +</P> + +<P> +Later on in the month a body of troops landed one Sunday morning on +Homans' Beach; and after loading their guns, the soldiers took up their +march through the town. +</P> + +<P> +The alarm drums were beaten at the door of every church to warn the +worshippers, and it was not long before the hitherto quiet streets were +thronged with an excited crowd of indignant citizens, gathered in +active defence of their rights. +</P> + +<P> +They suspected the object of the enemy to be the seizure of several +pieces of artillery secreted at Salem. But in this—or whatever was +their purpose—they were baffled, meeting with such determined +opposition as to be forced to march back to the shore and re-embark, +with no more disastrous result to either side than the usual number of +bloody faces and bruised fists, such as had distinguished the sojourn +of the regulars upon the Neck. +</P> + +<P> +Aside from these two events, the days in the old town passed much as +before, despite the ever-increasing certainty of war,—this leading the +townsfolk to go armed night and day, and to keep close watch from the +outlooks for any sudden descent the enemy might seek to make. +</P> + +<P> +The last vestige of snow was gone from the shaded nooks amid the trees +on the hills,—the land, swept dry and clear of all signs of winter, +was waiting for the sun to warm the brown earth into life; and in the +hollows of the woods, the tender shoots of the first wild flowers were +already showing, where the winds had brushed away the fallen leaves of +the year before. +</P> + +<P> +It was the twenty-first of April, and the expected battle had come at +last, for Lexington was two days old. The news was brought into town +before the morning of the twentieth, and had resulted in the sudden +departure of many of the younger men for the immediate scene of action. +</P> + +<P> +Among these was John Devereux; and Mary was to accompany her husband to +the town, in order that she might be with him until the very last +moment. +</P> + +<P> +The parting between father and son was full of solemnity, for each felt +it to be the last time they would meet on earth. +</P> + +<P> +"God bless and keep you, my dear boy," said Joseph Devereux, showing +more of his natural vigor than for many weeks past, as he fixed his +large eyes upon the handsome young face, pale, but filled with +resolution and high purpose. "God bless and keep you in the struggle +in which I know you will do your part unflinchingly. Never be guilty +of aught in the future, as you have never in the past, to stain the +good name you bear." +</P> + +<P> +Fearing that which he deemed a reflection upon his manhood, the young +man did not reply in words, but threw his arms about his father's neck +in a way he had not done since boyhood; and the old man alone knew how +something wet still lay upon his withered cheek after his son had left +him. +</P> + +<P> +The last person to whom Jack said farewell was his sister. She had +stolen away to her own room, and there he found her weeping. +</P> + +<P> +"Little Dot," he said in a choking voice, opening his arms to her as he +paused just across the threshold. +</P> + +<P> +She looked up, and with a low cry—half of pain, half joy—fled to him; +and with this the shadow, almost estrangement, that had come between +them was swept away forever. +</P> + +<P> +He held her tight against his breast, and let her weep silently for a +time, before he said very gently, "Dot, my little girl, I must speak to +you on a certain matter before I go away." +</P> + +<P> +She raised her head and kissed him; and this he took as permission to +tell her what was upon his mind. +</P> + +<P> +"Dot, I cannot go from you without having everything between us the +same as has been all our lives, until these past few sad months." +</P> + +<P> +At this she clung all the closer to him. +</P> + +<P> +"You were badly treated, little one," he continued, "shamefully +treated; and it was a great grief to me that you did not come and trust +your brother to the end of telling him the whole matter at the very +first. But 't is all past now, and words are of no worth. Only this I +must know from your own lips,—if you love this man who has forced +himself to be your husband, and if you love him sufficiently to leave +us all, should he so bid you?" +</P> + +<P> +"That he will never do," Dorothy answered, her voice full of sad +conviction. "He has gone, thinking I hate him." +</P> + +<P> +"And why did you send him away with such a notion as that?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, Jack," the girl cried piteously, "cannot you see—can you not +understand? I could not go and leave you all. I dared not tell at the +time all that had happened—I did not know what to do." +</P> + +<P> +"And you love not the cause he fights for, though you love the man +himself?" And a faint smile touched his lips. +</P> + +<P> +"That is it, Jack," she answered, relieved at being understood. "You +have spoken my own feelings. I could not leave father; had I done so, +think of what would have come to me now." +</P> + +<P> +"Poor father, 't is well he will never need to know. Well, Dot," and +he tried to speak cheerily, "although 't is a sad tangle now, perhaps +time will straighten it somewhat; and all we can do is to wait and +hope." +</P> + +<P> +"And you'll never say aught to—him, should you two meet?" Dorothy +asked wistfully, a burning color deepening in her cheeks. +</P> + +<P> +"Should he and I meet," the young man said with a scowl, "it is not +likely to be in a fashion that will permit discourse of any sort." +Then he regretted his words, for his sister shivered and hid her face +over his heart. +</P> + +<P> +"Come, Dot,"—and now he spoke more calmly, while he caressed the curly +head lying against his breast—"try to keep a brave heart. You have +done no wrong, little one, and we are all in God's hands. Pray you to +Him for your brother while he is from home; and pray as well that all +these sad matters will come right in the end." +</P> + +<P> +He pressed a kiss upon her tearful face, and was gone. +</P> + +<P> +Arriving in the town, he found his companions ready to depart; and +before sunset he was upon the road to Boston, leaving his wife to stop +for a day with Mistress Horton. +</P> + +<P> +The following evening it was apparent that the end was coming fast to +Joseph Devereux. +</P> + +<P> +Dorothy was alone with the stricken man, Aunt Lettice, who took 'Bitha +with her, having gone into the town early that afternoon, to make some +purchases, intending to return later with Mary. +</P> + +<P> +Dr. Paine had told them how the end would probably come; and it was as +he had said. He himself was away toward Boston, where his services +were most needed, and there was no other physician for Dorothy to +summon, even had she felt it necessary. +</P> + +<P> +But she well knew the uselessness of this. No human skill could +prolong the life of him who had been stricken down late in the +afternoon, and now lay unconscious, breathing heavily, like a strong +swimmer breasting heavy seas. And what sea beats so relentlessly as do +the black waters of Death? +</P> + +<P> +Dorothy had stolen for a moment to the window, scarcely able to endure +to sit longer by the bed, listening to those gasping breaths that wrung +her heart with the passionate sense of impotence to help, or even ease, +the dying man. +</P> + +<P> +Curled up in the broad window-seat, her face turned from the dimly +lighted room to the fast-falling night outside, the past, and its +contrast with the present, seemed to unroll before her with a vividness +of detail such as we are told comes to one who is drowning. +</P> + +<P> +All that was happy seemed to lie behind her; all the cheer and comfort +of the old home were gone, never to return—no more than would her +father's protecting love. +</P> + +<P> +And he—her father—was now drawing nigh to the day that knows no +darkness, no dawning; while for her the night shadows of the bitter +parting were closing about, dark and cold. +</P> + +<P> +The incoming tide was almost at the full, and the surf sounded like a +moaning voice from the sea. It was to the young girl's tortured +imagination a warning voice, bidding her heed that the fashion of this +world must pass away, and with it the souls of its children, who, like +merry little ones gathering flowers in fair fields, unheeding, +unthinking, grow grave only as the day draws on. It told her that they +grow wise—sad, perhaps—as the sun sinks; and that when the darkness +falls they lie down to sleep, with tired brains and heavy hearts, all +their buoyancy gone with the day's brightness. They have come to know +its bitter lesson of weary struggle, of sore disappointment and +heart-breaks. +</P> + +<P> +The sky was filled with broken banks of ragged clouds that sent great +tattered streamers across the zenith, entangling the glittering stars +that seemed struggling to push them away, as if they were smothering +draperies, from before their silvery faces. +</P> + +<P> +Over in the east a faint spot of dusky red was showing in a cloud-rift. +It was the rising moon, seeming to battle, like the stars, with the +black hosts seeking to envelop it. It fought bravely, like a valiant +soldier, and emerging triumphantly at last, threw a bar of dull red, +like a pathway, across the sullen floor of the ocean. +</P> + +<P> +This reached from the shore, out over the water, far away, to end in +the heavy shadows looming against the horizon like the walls of the +City of Death, whose angel keeper was even now unbarring the gates for +the call that should bring the soul of Joseph Devereux within their +misty portals. +</P> + +<P> +Dwellers by the sea have a belief that the souls of those who are +called, go ever with the turning of the tide. It was now only an hour, +or less, to that; and Dorothy was waiting with a trembling heart for +the ebb of the sea to carry her father away to the world of shadows. +</P> + +<P> +He lay motionless, as though his soul were already departed, save for +that same heavy breathing. +</P> + +<P> +There was no change in this. It was as regular in its hoarse panting +as the swinging of the pendulum in the clock outside the door,—the old +clock that had seen both joy and sorrow passing before it through many +generations, and had seemed to look with friendliness upon every +eye—blue, black, gray, or brown—uplifted to its great face,—eyes +that had long since been closed, some of them not even having time to +grow dim with age or be moistened by tears of grief. +</P> + +<P> +"Gone—gone—going," it sighed in Dorothy's ears, until she covered +them with her hands to shut out the sound, and with it the moaning of +the surf. +</P> + +<P> +"Dot, my little girl!" A faint voice broke the stillness as the heavy +breathing was hushed. +</P> + +<P> +She flew to the bedside and knelt there, while she pressed her warm +mouth against the nerveless hand, whose chill seemed to strike her very +heart. Her father felt the quivering of her lips, and tried to lift +his other hand to her head. +</P> + +<P> +She knew this without seeing it, and moving yet closer to him, she laid +her face over his heart, her head fitting into the hollow of his arm as +she clasped his hand with her small fingers. +</P> + +<P> +"Dot, my baby—oh, my little girl!" +</P> + +<P> +The words came with all his old strength of voice, and she felt that he +was weeping. +</P> + +<P> +Startled at this outbreak, and alarmed for fear of some injury it might +do him, all the girl's grief became swallowed up in the new energy that +now surged through her. +</P> + +<P> +"Hush!" she said soothingly, placing her face against his own. "Hush, +dear! Never mind me; I shall be well enough. I know—I know," choking +back a sob that rose in her throat like a stinging blow, "that all is +for the best, 'that He doeth all things well.'" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, yes," her father murmured drowsily, as though calmed by her words +and caresses. "Aye, my child, 'though I walk through the valley of the +shadow of death, I will fear no evil.' God is on the other side, +waiting—waiting—for me." +</P> + +<P> +His eyelids had fallen again, and the closing words came in a faint +whisper. He was now breathing heavily as before, and was seemingly +unconscious; and Dorothy felt that he had come back for a moment from +out the dark shadows gathering to shut them apart, so that he might +speak to her once more in the voice she loved so dearly. +</P> + +<P> +She did not stir, but remained kneeling by the bed, his arm around her, +and his hand clasping her fingers with marvellous firmness. +</P> + +<P> +She could feel and hear the feeble beating of the loving heart that had +ever held her so tenderly. Throbbing against her cheek, its pulses +seemed to keep rhythm with the mournful booming of the surf on the +shore. +</P> + +<P> +Suddenly, like a mighty ocean of falling waters, there came, to +overwhelm her unnatural calm, the thought of what her world would be +when that true, loyal heart was stilled,—when she could only lay her +cheek against the earth that shut it away from her. +</P> + +<P> +A giant hand seemed clutching at her throat; the grief, rising in +mighty bursts, could find no vent in tears, and a gasping cry sprang +from her lips, causing her to stir unconsciously within his arm. +</P> + +<P> +His grasp tightened upon her hand, and her acutely listening ears heard +him whisper brokenly, "'Lo, I am with you alway, even unto the end.'" +</P> + +<P> +The words brought to her a strange comfort. And now his feeble hand +caressed her head in a wandering, fluttering way, and she felt as in +her baby days when he used to rock her to sleep; for his failing voice +began to croon the old hymn he so often sang to her then. +</P> + +<P> +She crept still closer to him. She was quieted for the moment, and +filled with an awe as if angels were all about them. Her wild grief +was hushed,—the agony of clutching pain in her throat dissolved itself +in silent tears, and the sound of the surf now seemed a peaceful, +soothing voice. +</P> + +<P> +She felt as though she were going with her father along the way through +the dark valley,—even to the very gates of jasper and pearl that would +give him entrance to the City of Light, then to close, leaving her +without. +</P> + +<P> +Fainter, yet fainter grew his voice, at length dying away altogether. +She heard her name breathed softly, just as he used to speak it when +she, a little maid, was nestling in his arms, and he wished to assure +himself of her being asleep. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," she whispered. +</P> + +<P> +"My baby, 't is growing dark, blackly dark, little one. Ye'd better +get to bed." +</P> + +<P> +She made no answer—she could not, but listened breathlessly. +</P> + +<P> +"My baby—my baby Dot. God keep my baby!" +</P> + +<P> +The words were scarcely spoken, but came like long sighs, to mingle and +die away with the night wind moaning outside the window. And it was as +if the surf caught them, and repeated them to the watching stars. +</P> + +<P> +"God—keep—my—baby!" +</P> + +<P> +The room was still—still as the great loving heart under her cheek. +And the tide was on the ebb. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap27"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XXVII +</H3> + +<P> +The summer days found Glover's regiment stationed, a portion at +Cambridge, and the remainder on the high grounds of Roxbury, where were +also all the other Massachusetts troops, as well as some of those from +Connecticut. +</P> + +<P> +John Devereux, being on duty at Cambridge, had approved of his wife +accepting Mistress Knollys' invitation to stop with her in Dorchester. +Her brother-in-law had been killed at Bunker Hill, and his devoted +wife, broken-hearted, died soon thereafter, thus leaving Mistress +Knollys entirely alone. +</P> + +<P> +Mary insisted upon Dorothy accompanying her, for the girl had become +greatly changed since her father's death, and Mary, as well as Aunt +Lettice, deemed it wise to try the diverting effect of new scenes and +associations. Then, too, Dorothy had always been a prime favorite with +Mistress Knollys, and returned sincerely the good lady's motherly +affection. +</P> + +<P> +Thus it was that Aunt Lettice and 'Bitha were left alone at the +Devereux farm, whose flocks and stores had already been much depleted +by generous contributions sent up to the patriot army about Boston. +</P> + +<P> +Mary saw her husband at rare intervals, when it was possible for him to +snatch a few hours from his post of duty; but Hugh never came. +</P> + +<P> +Mary could readily divine the reason for this, and so could Mistress +Knollys, albeit the subject was never mentioned between them: for soon +after their arrival, Mary, with Dorothy's consent, had told her of all +that related to the young Englishman. +</P> + +<P> +At first the old lady was filled with righteous indignation. But when +she came to understand and realize how it was with Dorothy's own +feelings, she accepted the result with the philosophy that was a part +of her sweet nature,—even smiling to herself when she thought of the +young man's rare audacity. +</P> + +<P> +She had, despite her white hairs, a spice of romance yet left in her +heart. And perhaps the memory of her own elopement, in the face of her +parents' prohibition, went far toward softening her feeling in favor of +the daring offender. +</P> + +<P> +But she shook her head sadly as she thought of her own boy, the secret +of whose heart she had long suspected, although he had not given her +his confidence; and her eyes moistened as she realized the downfall of +the cherished castle she had been building for him, with this girl—of +her own choosing—for his wife. +</P> + +<P> +Late one September day, Johnnie Strings brought word to Dorothy that +Aunt Penine lay at death's door, and was craving to see her. +</P> + +<P> +It was decided that she had better accede to her aunt's request, and +that Mary should go with her; and so, in pursuance of arrangements made +by the pedler, they started on horseback the following morning, with +that wary individual as escort, and rode directly to a certain tavern +just inside the American lines, and known as "The Gray Horse Inn," +where they procured a conveyance to carry them the remainder of the +journey. +</P> + +<P> +Strings himself did not deem it wise to venture nearer than this to +Boston, as he was expected to hold himself in readiness at the inn to +receive some papers to be delivered to the Commander-in-Chief at +Cambridge. +</P> + +<P> +It was late in the afternoon when the two girls, after having seen Aunt +Penine and made peace with her, hurried down the street toward the +place where their carriage was awaiting them. +</P> + +<P> +The day was gray, with clouds gathering slowly, when they had set out +on foot from this point for their visit to Aunt Penine, their driver +having considered it better that he should wait for them near the house +of an acquaintance, whose true sentiments were known to only a few of +his countrymen. And now, as they returned, a strong east-wind was +making mournful soughings in the trees, and a downpour of rain seemed +imminent from the solidly massed clouds overhead. +</P> + +<P> +As they came down the steps of the house, Mary noticed a man across the +street, lounging under the elms, as though awaiting some one. His tall +figure was well wrapped in a riding-cloak, whose folds he held in a way +to conceal his lower features, while his hat, slouched over his +forehead, made it still more difficult to obtain a clear view of his +face. +</P> + +<P> +"Look at that man over there," she said nervously, clutching Dorothy's +arm. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, I see," Dorothy replied with no show of interest, as they started +down the street. "What of him?" +</P> + +<P> +She was paying little heed to anything about her, for the meeting with +Aunt Penine had aroused to new and acute paining the sense of her own +great loss. +</P> + +<P> +This, thanks to the diversion afforded by her new surroundings, had +begun to be a little dulled; for when one is young it is no easy matter +for any sorrow, however heavy, to utterly crush out all the light and +hope. +</P> + +<P> +Then, too, it had seemed to Dorothy a most marvellous thing to see Aunt +Penine so softened and repentant. And this of itself served to +increase the homesick longing the very sight of her had brought to the +girl,—a craving for the happy days of the dear old home, when a united +family gathered under its roof, with no war-clouds darkening their +hearts. +</P> + +<P> +"I am sure he is the same man I noticed walking after us when we came; +and if so, why has he been standing there all this time?" +</P> + +<P> +Mary now spoke excitedly, and as though alarmed, glancing now and then +over her shoulder at the cause of her fears. +</P> + +<P> +"He is probably attending to his own affairs, and giving no thought to +ours," Dorothy answered, without looking in the stranger's direction. +"If not, what then? It will be daylight for two hours to come, and in +five minutes we will be where the man is waiting for us." +</P> + +<P> +Mary said nothing more, but ventured to steal a parting glance as they +turned the corner of the street; and she was much disconcerted to see +the man still appearing to follow them. +</P> + +<P> +They soon reached their destination and found the vehicle waiting. A +minute more and they were seated, the driver gathered the reins, and +his horses set off at a pace bespeaking their impatience to return to +their stalls at the Gray Horse Inn. +</P> + +<P> +The rain held back until they drew up in front of the entrance. Indeed +it seemed as if the storm had waited for the girls to reach shelter, +for no sooner were they inside the house than it let go with a sudden +burst, doubtless setting in for an "all-nighter," as Johnnie Strings +averred when he met them at the door. +</P> + +<P> +It was impossible for them to continue their journey on horseback that +night, and the landlord refused to send the carriage to Dorchester, by +reason of all his horses being needed early the following morning to +carry some supplies to the outposts. And so, yielding to the +inevitable, Mary and Dorothy decided to pass the night at the inn, +letting Johnnie Strings, who cared nothing for the storm, go on and +explain matters to Mistress Knollys. +</P> + +<P> +The Gray Horse Inn was an old building, whose precise age none could +tell. The street whereon it stood was little more than a lane, leading +off the main thoroughfare to Boston; and a person outside could easily +glance through the lower windows, when these were unshuttered, as no +shrubbery veiled them. Inside it was cheery and well-kept, and its +rambling style of construction afforded accommodation for a surprising +number of guests. +</P> + +<P> +Back of the building extended a cornfield, which ended in a tract of +woodland, while upon its townward side was a sturdy growth of oak and +nut trees, encircling the cornfield, and running quite to the line of +the woods beyond. +</P> + +<P> +Mistress Trask, the landlady, gave the two girls a small parlor, +communicating with a sleeping-room; and here their supper was served. +</P> + +<P> +As the buxom dame brought in the well-filled tray, a loud, aggressive +voice came through the open door, evidently from the taproom, where a +fire blazing on the hearth—although the night was barely cold—tempted +the wayfarers to congregate. +</P> + +<P> +"An' I tell ye," said the unseen speaker, "that Boston is the heart an' +mouth o' the colonies. The wind that blows from Boston will set every +weathercock from New Hampshire to Georgia." +</P> + +<P> +A silence followed, suggestive of no one caring to dispute the +assertion. +</P> + +<P> +Mistress Trask, noting Mary's expression of annoyance and her glance +toward the door, made haste to close it. Then she explained, as she +began setting the food upon the table: "That's only farmer Gilbert. +He's a decent enough body when sober, but once he gets a bit o' liquor +under his waistcoat, it seems to fly straight to his brains and addle +'em. And then he do seem fairly grieving for a fisticuff with all +creation." +</P> + +<P> +"I surely trust he will make no such disturbance while we are in the +house," Mary said uneasily. +</P> + +<P> +"Never ye have any fear, dearie," replied the good woman. She was an +old acquaintance of Johnnie Strings, and he had duly impressed her as +to the high standing of the guests he left in her charge. +</P> + +<P> +"Never ye fear," she repeated. "The sight of a real lady is sure to be +a check on his tongue an' manners; an' I'll see to it that he knows who +be in this room. 'T is true sorry I am to have to put ye on this lower +floor; but ye see, we've strict orders to keep the whole o' the upper +floor for some gentry who will be here by late evening." +</P> + +<P> +Then bending her head quickly, she whispered with great impressiveness, +"Who, think ye, we expect?" +</P> + +<P> +"I have no idea," was Mary's indifferent answer. She had scarcely +heard the question, for wondering what it might be that Dorothy was +thinking about as she stood by the window, from which she had drawn +away the curtain. +</P> + +<P> +Certain it was that the girl could distinguish nothing in the pitchy +darkness outside, even if she could see through the rain-dashed panes, +that looked as if encrusted with glass beads. +</P> + +<P> +Mistress Trask's information—whispered, like her question, as if she +feared the furniture might hear her words—caused Mary to sit very +erect, with kindling eyes and indrawn breath. +</P> + +<P> +"Hush-h," warned the landlady, with a broad smile of delight at the +surprise she had aroused. "Hush-h; we was ordered on no account to let +it get out." +</P> + +<P> +"Dot, did you hear what she said?" Mary asked, when the two, left to +themselves, sat down to the tempting supper. +</P> + +<P> +Dorothy shook her head, wondering the while at Mary's agitation. +</P> + +<P> +"She said," and Mary lowered her own voice, "that the +Commander-in-Chief is to arrive here soon, and that he will stop here +all night, as there is to be a meeting of some sort with many of his +principal officers." +</P> + +<P> +"General Washington!" A new light came to Dorothy's face, kindling a +rush of color in her cheeks, and sending a glitter from her eyes that +routed all their sad abstraction. +</P> + +<P> +Mary nodded. +</P> + +<P> +"I wish we could see him," said Dorothy. "Oh—I must get a peep at +him." +</P> + +<P> +"We will certainly try to see him," Mary agreed, adding eagerly, "And +oh, Dot—mayhap Jack will be of them." +</P> + +<P> +"And perhaps Hugh," Dorothy said impulsively. Then quickly, as she saw +the sudden change in Mary's face, "Whatever is the matter with Hugh +Knollys, I wonder? He has not been to see his mother since we went to +stop with her; and I have noticed that whenever his name is mentioned, +you and Jack—and even his mother—look oddly. Has he done anything +amiss?" +</P> + +<P> +"Nothing, indeed, that I know of." And Mary lifted her cup of tea so +that it hid her eyes for the moment. +</P> + +<P> +"I have wished so often that he would come—I should like to see him +once more. How long—how very long it seems since he left us last +fall!" Dorothy sighed; and Mary knew it was not for Hugh, but because +of all that had happened since his going. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap28"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XXVIII +</H3> + +<P> +"Oh, Mary, which one of them do you suppose is he?" whispered Dorothy, +as the two girls hung over the balustrade of the upper hall, watching +the figures entering through the outer door, all of them so muffled in +storm-cloaks as to look precisely alike, save as to height. +</P> + +<P> +The landlord, with much obsequious bustling, had hastened forward to +meet them. His wife was beside him, and she had just summoned a +servant to assist in taking the wet wrappings from the new arrivals as +she stood courtesying before them. +</P> + +<P> +"The rooms be aired, lighted, and fires made, as ordered, sir," Trask +was saying. +</P> + +<P> +In one hand he held aloft a clumsy brass candlestick holding three +lighted candles, while the other hand was placed over his heart, as if +that member needed to be repressed under the well-filled proportions of +his ample waistcoat; and he was bowing with great servility before a +figure whose stature far exceeded that of the other new-comers, but +whose face, hidden by his hat, could not be seen by the eager onlookers +at the top of the stairs. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, Dot, they are coming straight up here," Mary gasped; and both +girls sprang back in dismay at sight of the procession beginning to +file up the stairway, preceded by the landlord, who now carried a +candlestick in either hand. +</P> + +<P> +Scarcely knowing what they were doing, and intent solely upon +concealing themselves, they darted through the doorway of the nearest +room, which was lighted only by a cheery wood fire. +</P> + +<P> +"They will surely see us as they go by," whispered Mary, for, once +inside, they saw that the door by which they had entered was in the +extreme corner of the room, rendering the entire interior visible to a +passer-by. +</P> + +<P> +"Let us shut the door," Dorothy suggested. +</P> + +<P> +But Mary said quickly, "No, that will never do. The landlord may have +left it open, and would notice it being closed." +</P> + +<P> +It had not occurred to them that all this was probably on account of +the room being one of those assigned to the new guests, for Mary had +given but slight heed to what Mistress Trask said as to the entire +upper floor being taken, and Dorothy had heard naught of the matter +beyond what Mary told her. +</P> + +<P> +"Here is another room," said the younger girl joyfully, for her alert +eyes had spied a half-closed door communicating with an inner and dark +apartment. +</P> + +<P> +It took them only a moment to gain this place of refuge and shut the +door; then, standing close to it, they listened for any sound to +indicate the passage of the procession down the hall, and so leave them +an opportunity to return unobserved to their own apartments. +</P> + +<P> +"I wish we had never done so foolish a thing," Mary said in a low +voice. She was breathing rapidly, and trembling from agitation. +</P> + +<P> +"So do I—as it is," was Dorothy's hurried answer. "But if I only +could have seen him, so as to know him, I should not care." +</P> + +<P> +The next minute they were awakened to new dismay by the sound of heavy +footsteps entering the outer room. Then they heard the landlord say, +"This is the room, your Excellency; I trust it be such as to suit you." +</P> + +<P> +A calm, full-toned voice replied: "Thank you, landlord; everything +seems quite as it should be. The other gentlemen will be here shortly; +show them up at once, when they arrive." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, sir—certainly, sir," Trask replied. "This is the bedroom, sir." +And the sound of his heavy feet approaching the door caused still +greater terror to the trembling girls. +</P> + +<P> +The latch was actually lifted, when the other voice arrested any +farther movement by saying with a note of impatience: "Yes, yes—very +well, landlord. We should like supper as speedily as it can be served, +and as there will be many of us, we will have it downstairs." +</P> + +<P> +Trask seemed now to take his leave, for they heard the outer door +close. Then the same voice, mellow and dignified as at first, came to +them again. +</P> + +<P> +"No doubt, Dalton, they have been detained by the storm." +</P> + +<P> +"Faith, sir, 't is little such a man as Glover cares for water," +replied another voice, more jovial and evidently younger; "although, to +be sure, he may prefer the water to be salt, being more used to that +flavor." +</P> + +<P> +Mary pulled Dorothy by the arm. +</P> + +<P> +"We must walk straight out of here," she whispered, "this very minute. +There is nothing else for us to do." +</P> + +<P> +"Well,—go on." The words came brokenly from the younger girl's lips, +for her heart was beating in a way to make her actually dizzy. +</P> + +<P> +Then, as Mary hesitated, Dorothy's sturdy self-reliance returned; and +pushing the door wide open, she passed in front of her sister-in-law +and stepped forth into the presence of four officers, wearing the +uniform of the Continental army. +</P> + +<P> +Three of them were wandering about the room, as though awaiting the +orders of the fourth,—a very tall man, of massive frame, seated by a +table. +</P> + +<P> +He was examining a sealed packet, and seemed about to open it under the +light of the candles, but looked up quickly as the childish figure came +and stood directly in front of him. Then, as his large gray-blue eyes +glanced at the taller one, he arose to his feet, with the unopened +packet in his hand. +</P> + +<P> +The other officers had come to a standstill, as though rooted, in +various parts of the room, and stood staring open-mouthed at the fair +intruders,—a very evident admiration soon taking the place of their +amazement. +</P> + +<P> +Their commander now addressed the two girls, looking down from his +great height upon the faces wherein embarrassment and veneration seemed +hopelessly mingled. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, ladies," he demanded,—his words and manner, albeit perfectly +respectful and courteous, tinged with sternness—"what is the meaning +of this?" +</P> + +<P> +They both knew themselves to be in the presence of the great man whom +they had desired so much to look upon, and they could see nothing in +the room but the impressive figure now facing them with such an air of +dignity and command. +</P> + +<P> +There was about him the very atmosphere of self-nobility, +self-reliance; and with it that supreme control which, being the ruler +of his own nature, enabled him to govern all the more surely those +about him. The steady gaze of the unusually large eyes, every line of +the firm mouth and chin, bespoke a well-disciplined mind, and the keen +intuitions of a born leader of men. +</P> + +<P> +Mary was dumb from mortification, not unmixed with actual fear, for she +could see no easy way of extricating themselves from their dilemma; but +Dorothy plucked up heart of grace, and answered, as she dropped a +little courtesy, "It is only that we wanted to see you, sir." +</P> + +<P> +There was a spontaneous laugh from the three officers; but Washington +checked it by turning to them with a frown. +</P> + +<P> +And yet there was a faint smile touching the corners of his own lips, +relaxing their severity, as he looked down at the girl and asked, in +the quizzing tone he might have used toward a child, "Well, little one, +now that you have seen me, what will you?" +</P> + +<P> +"That you will pardon us, sir," Mary answered instantly, as she moved +forward to Dorothy's side. Washington bent his head graciously to her. +But his smiling eyes went back to the younger girl's face, although his +words were now in reply to Mary. +</P> + +<P> +"There is surely little to pardon. Rather let me thank you that I am +held in such esteem, and thought deserving of so much consideration." +Then he added with a glance that embraced them both, "May I know your +names?" +</P> + +<P> +"This is my sister, Dorothy Devereux, of Marblehead; and I am Mary +Broughton Devereux, wife of the officer of that name in Colonel +Glover's regiment, now stationed at Cambridge." +</P> + +<P> +Her composure had fully returned, and she spoke with perfect +freedom—indeed with a touch of pride—as she looked up fearlessly into +Washington's face. +</P> + +<P> +"Aye;" and now his look and voice showed naught but cordiality. "I am +happy, ladies, to make your acquaintance. I happen to know your +husband, Mistress Devereux, for my present headquarters at Cambridge +are in the house formerly occupied by Colonel Glover and his +officers.[<A NAME="chap28fn1text"></A><A HREF="#chap28fn1">1</A>] I had also a slight acquaintance with your father-in-law." +</P> + +<BR> + +<P CLASS="footnote"> +<A NAME="chap28fn1"></A> +[<A HREF="#chap28fn1text">1</A>] This mansion was afterwards the home of Longfellow. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +"Oh, sir—you say that you knew my father?" +</P> + +<P> +The lines of his face relaxed still more as he regarded the little +figure standing before him, her hands clasped impulsively, and the +great dark eyes, now glittering with tears, raised in a worshipful gaze +more eagerly questioning than was even the sweet voice. +</P> + +<P> +"Aye, child, I knew him. We met at the house of your townsman, Colonel +Lee." +</P> + +<P> +"He is—perhaps you do not know—my father died this spring." And +crystal drops welled from the big eyes and hung suspended on the +curling lashes. +</P> + +<P> +"Aye, my dear child," and a note of the tenderest sympathy came to the +deep voice, "so I heard at the time. God grant we may all be as well +prepared as was your good father, when the end shall come." +</P> + +<P> +There was a pause, filled by the crackling of the fire, whose gleams +made a bright sparkle of the drops on Dorothy's swart lashes before she +could wipe them away. The other officers were now exchanging +significant glances, and looking at the girl with much interest. +</P> + +<P> +The silence was broken by Mary, who was secretly burning to escape. +She had waited until she met Washington's eyes; then, as he glanced at +her, she made a deep courtesy and said, "And now, sir, if you please, +we will retire to our own apartments below stairs." +</P> + +<P> +"Wait but a moment," he replied. His eyes had gone back to Dorothy, +who was standing with clasped hands, looking into the fire, and +forgetful of all else than the sorrow his words had awakened within her +heart. "Are you abiding under this roof, Mistress Devereux?" +</P> + +<P> +"Only for this one night, sir," Mary answered. "We are stopping at +Dorchester, with our old friend Mistress Knollys, and have been toward +Boston to see a dying relative. We were returning from there when the +storm overtook us, and are obliged to remain here until to-morrow. We +shall set out again in the morning, sir." +</P> + +<P> +"Not alone, surely?" he said with a slight frown. "It is scarce +prudent for you two young ladies to be travelling these roads, at such +a time as this, without escort." +</P> + +<P> +"We had an escort, sir, but he went on to Dorchester, to assure +Mistress Knollys of our safety. He will return in the morning, or else +send some one for us." +</P> + +<P> +"That is more as it should be," Washington said with an approving nod. +"And in case no one comes for you, I myself will take pleasure in +seeing that you are provided with a suitable escort." +</P> + +<P> +Mary courtesied once more, and both girls murmured their thanks. +</P> + +<P> +The sad look had departed from Dorothy's face as she now stood watching +the great man whom she might never have the opportunity of beholding +again; and while so engaged, it happened that one of the buttons of his +coat came directly opposite her small nose. +</P> + +<P> +At first she looked at it without any interest,—almost mechanically. +Then she was overcome by a sudden intense desire to possess it as a +souvenir, to be treasured for all time to come. +</P> + +<P> +The feeling grew stronger each moment, and there is no saying to what +lengths her childish impulsiveness might have spurred her, had it not +been for the keen looks bent upon her by the officers at the other side +of the room. +</P> + +<P> +Washington seemed to be conscious of this, for his eyes took a curious +expression as he said, looking down into the girl's earnest face, "I am +tempted to ask, little one, what great subject makes your eyes so +solemn." +</P> + +<P> +He spoke more than half jestingly, and it was apparent that he judged +her to be much younger than her actual years, because of her diminutive +stature and childish appearance. +</P> + +<P> +"I was wishing, sir, that you would give me something to remember you +by," was her frank answer; "that is,"—hesitating a little—"I was +wishing I could have something to keep all my life." +</P> + +<P> +She stopped, scarcely knowing how to express herself, while Mary stared +at her with manifest disapproval. +</P> + +<P> +"I understand, my child," Washington said, now looking at her more +gravely. +</P> + +<P> +He paused, and seemed to be considering the matter. Then he laid his +hand lightly upon the girl's shoulder, much in the way a father would +have done. +</P> + +<P> +"I shall take pleasure, little one, in giving you something by which to +remember me." +</P> + +<P> +Resuming his seat by the table, he took up the packet he was examining +when they interrupted him a few minutes before. +</P> + +<P> +He now opened it hastily, and a number of papers dropped out. +</P> + +<P> +One of these he picked up, and tore from it a strip, which he looked at +carefully, as though to be certain it was clear of writing; then, +dipping a quill into the ink, he wrote a few words upon it. +</P> + +<P> +"Take this, my child," he said, extending it to her, "and should you +ever be in need of any service within my power to render, you have but +to send this slip of paper, to remind me that I have promised to assist +you." +</P> + +<P> +Dorothy stood speechless, well-nigh bewildered, her eyes fixed upon his +face, now alight with an aspect almost paternal. +</P> + +<P> +She said nothing, did not even thank him; but taking the paper, she +pressed her lips to the hand that proffered it, and then, turning +quickly, sped from the room. +</P> + +<P> +"We are most honored, sir—you are very kind," said Mary, who felt it +incumbent upon her to express their gratitude in more formal fashion +than Dorothy had adopted. +</P> + +<P> +Washington was looking at the door through which the girl had +disappeared, but now he turned and bowed courteously. +</P> + +<P> +"Much of the obligation is my own," he replied with courtly gallantry. +Then his manner changed as he said: "Your sister is a sweet little +maid,—it is most sad that she should have lost her father. He was, as +is his son, a worthy and stanch patriot. These are troublous times, +Mistress Devereux, and one so young and charming as she may come to +feel the need of a protector; although, from all I have seen of her +brother—your husband—it might well be supposed my own poor services +would never be called into use." +</P> + +<P> +"I thank you, sir; and I am sure Dorothy does the same—and both of us +with all our hearts." And Mary ventured to extend her hand. +</P> + +<P> +Washington arose from his chair, and his large, strong fingers closed +about her own slender ones in a firm clasp, which she felt still +tingling in their tips when she found Dorothy waiting for her at the +head of the stairs. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, Mary," she burst out, looking as though something were amiss, "I +am glad you are come. I've been so affrighted." +</P> + +<P> +Then, as they started down the stairs, she told how a +dreadful-appearing man had come out of the tap-room, and stood glaring +at her, as he demanded fiercely to know her business. +</P> + +<P> +"I was so scared that I could not speak, and I did not dare go back +into the room. I am sure the man was full of drink." +</P> + +<P> +"Where is he? I see no one." And Mary craned her neck to look over +the rail into the hall below. +</P> + +<P> +"He went back into the taproom when he found I would not answer him." +</P> + +<P> +They had now reached the foot of the staircase; and as though waiting +for the clicking of their high heels on the oaken floor, the taproom +door opened suddenly, and a great hulking fellow, with a red face, +topped by a wild shock of black hair, came staggering against them. +</P> + +<P> +Both girls cried out, and started to fly up the stairs. But they were +reassured by the advent of Mistress Trask, who chanced to be coming +down the hall, and who spoke sharply to the man, bidding him have a +care how he ran into ladies. +</P> + +<P> +"'T is only Farmer Gilbert," she said, turning to her frightened +guests, and seeming surprised to find them in that part of the house. +"There's no cause to be alarmed, my pretties." +</P> + +<P> +Mary glanced with disgust at the drunkard, who was now attempting a +maudlin apology. But she said nothing, either to him or to the +landlady, and went her way with Dorothy. +</P> + +<P> +No sooner had they closed the door of their own apartments than they +hurried to the light and examined the precious slip of paper. +</P> + +<P> +It read: "A solemn promise given to Mistress Dorothy Devereux, of +Marblehead. G. Washington." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, Dot," Mary exclaimed, "I never thought,—we have told him an +untruth!" +</P> + +<P> +Dorothy was still looking at the paper, but at Mary's alarming words +she raised her eyes in wonder. +</P> + +<P> +"You are not Mistress Dorothy Devereux, but Mistress—" +</P> + +<P> +"Sh-h!" cried Dot, putting her hand quickly over Mary's lips. Then +they looked at one another and laughed, but uneasily. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap29"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XXIX +</H3> + +<P> +Neither of the girls found much rest during the night, owing to the +strangeness of their surroundings and the exciting experiences that had +come to them. In addition to this, their wakefulness was increased by +the noise of the gale outside. +</P> + +<P> +The rain had ceased, but the wind at times attained such violence as to +rattle the casements like the jarring of a cannonade. Then its force +would lessen, and it would moan about the gables and down the chimneys +with a sound as though the patriots already fallen might be lamenting +the long-continued siege of Boston. +</P> + +<P> +With these deeper tones there would come loud shrieks, like the +laughter of fiends, as if the Prince of Darkness and his legions were +making merry over the impending downfall of goodly customs, uprooted by +slaughter and bloodshed. +</P> + +<P> +During the earlier part of the night there was some unusually loud +talking outside, seeming to indicate a new excitement. +</P> + +<P> +This caused the girls fresh alarm; but the matter was explained by the +landlady, when she brought their breakfast in the morning. +</P> + +<P> +A redcoat had been caught in the cornfield back of the house, and later +on, his horse was found fastened in the woods near by. +</P> + +<P> +When brought, as he was at once, before the Commander-in-Chief, the +prisoner had denied indignantly the imputation of being a spy. Yet he +had refused stubbornly to explain the reason for his being outside his +own lines, and so close to the spot where a conference was being held +between Washington and his officers. +</P> + +<P> +He wore the British uniform, but this was concealed by an ordinary +riding-cloak, and on his head was a civilian's hat. +</P> + +<P> +"So," said the landlady, after telling the story, "if he be no spy, 't +will be a hard matter for him to prove it, with everything lookin' so +black. An', oh, mistress, he's as handsome as a picter, an' don't look +to be twenty-five. It do seem a mortal pity that he must hang." +</P> + +<P> +"Hang!" repeated Dorothy, with horror. "Why must he hang?" +</P> + +<P> +"Why, surely ye know, mistress," the woman explained, "in war-times a +spy be always hanged." +</P> + +<P> +"Is it not dreadful—and will they hang him?" Mary asked with a +shudder, staring into the face of the voluble landlady, who was now +arranging the dishes upon the table. +</P> + +<P> +"So the talk goes 'mongst the men. They had much ado with Farmer +Gilbert, who was for takin' the young man an' hangin' him there an' +then. But he had to be brought afore General Washington himself. An' +now he's locked up in one o' the upper rooms, with Tommy Macklin pacin' +up an' down afore the door, like he was measurin' the hall for a new +carpet, 'stead o' wearin' out the strip I wove with my own hands, out +o' rags." +</P> + +<P> +Dorothy, who sat facing Mary, her elbows on the table, and her chin +resting in her small palms, now drew the landlady's attention by +inquiring if she knew the prisoner's name. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes,—I did get to hear it when General Washington asked him; for, to +say truth, I was listenin' outside the door. He answered up fair +enough, an' spoke it like there was naught to be ashamed of in the +matter, neither. 'T was Captain Southorn." +</P> + +<P> +She heard a half-choked gasp from Dorothy's lips, and saw the look that +came to Mary's face as her eyes turned like a flash toward the younger +girl. +</P> + +<P> +"Is it possible he can be known to ye?" she asked quickly. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes,—I think we met him once," Mary answered falteringly. "That is, +we met a young man of the same name. But he was not a captain—only a +cornet of dragoons." +</P> + +<P> +"Still, it is like to be the same man," the landlady said rather +insistingly, as though hoping that such was the fact. "Cornets grow +quick to be captains in these woful days, if they be but brave, which +surely this young man is, unless his looks belie him." +</P> + +<P> +Neither of the girls had paid any attention to her, but sat motionless, +each with her eyes riveted upon the other's face, as if seeking to read +her thoughts. +</P> + +<P> +But now they both looked at Mistress Trask, whose voice had lost its +speculative tone, and was filled with intense earnestness. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, mistress," she was saying, still addressing Mary, "mayhap he be +the same man ye've known. An' if this be so, I do beg ye to try what +prayin' the favor of his pardon from Washington will do. 'T is a foul +death—to be hanged; an' such as he ought surely to die in their beds, +unless they come to die in battle. The General be still here, 'though +Colonel Glover an' many o' the other officers left early this mornin'. +If they should take the young man out an' hang him, I'd never 'bide +here another day. Will ye not go, mistress, an' try to save his life?" +</P> + +<P> +Before Mary could reply, Dorothy spoke up. +</P> + +<P> +"I will go," she said quietly, taking her elbows from the table, and +with an expression in her eyes such as Mary never saw there before. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, do, mistress!" the landlady exclaimed eagerly, looking at the girl +with admiration. "Pray do, an' God will bless ye for it." +</P> + +<P> +But Mary protested, although weakly, and feeling that she had but +little hope of success. +</P> + +<P> +"No, Dot,—no," she said. "You must not,—it would never do. And then +it might not be the same one, after all." +</P> + +<P> +But her own belief contradicted her words, and sounded in her voice +even as she uttered them. She was certain it was he who had appeared +to be watching them when they came from Aunt Penine; and he had +doubtless followed them to the tavern. +</P> + +<P> +Dorothy made no reply until she drained a glass of milk the landlady +filled for her; then she arose from the table. +</P> + +<P> +"I am going," she said, as calmly as before. "Please," seeing that +Mary was about to renew her objections, "say no more about it. I am +going—and I prefer to go alone." +</P> + +<P> +But Mary could not restrain herself. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh Dot," she asked tremulously, "do you dare do such a thing?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, I dare do it, because I must,—because there is nothing else for +me to do." +</P> + +<P> +"Let her go, mistress," urged the landlady; "surely there be naught to +fear for her." Then she said confidently, as Dorothy passed through +the door and out into the hall: "She be that young an' tender that no +one would harm her,—least of all, General Washington. No doubt she'll +be just the one to touch his heart with her pleadin' for the young man. +No one would have the heart to say no to her, she be so little an' +sweet." +</P> + +<P> +Mary felt her own helplessness to turn Dorothy from her purpose. +Indeed she did not dare to say, even to herself, that it was not the +girl's solemn duty to do as she had proposed. +</P> + +<P> +And so she sat silent, with clasped hands, musing over all these +things, while Mistress Trask removed the dishes. And while she was +doing this, the landlady told for the first time—the excitement having +driven it from her mind—how Johnnie Strings had appeared at an early +hour, and bade her say that he was forced to go across country to carry +a despatch, but would return by noon, to escort the two girls to +Dorchester. +</P> + +<P> +Dorothy took her way up the stairs toward the room above. All the +girlishness within her was now dead, and the expression in her pale +face was that of a woman—and one whose heart was wrung by bitter +sorrow. +</P> + +<P> +The door was closed, and in front of it a man was seated. A musket lay +across his knees, and his head was sunk on his breast as if he were +buried in his own meditations. But as Dorothy drew near, he looked up, +and she saw that it was none other than Fisherman Doak. +</P> + +<P> +"Mistress Dorothy!" he gasped, staring open-mouthed at her white face +as though doubtful of her being a reality. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," she said quickly, "and I am glad it is you, Doak." +</P> + +<P> +"Sweet little mistress," he exclaimed, amazement showing in every +lineament of his honest visage, "in Heaven's name, whatever be ye doin' +here?" +</P> + +<P> +"Never mind, Doak," she answered, "what I am doing here. I wish to +see—to speak with General Washington, and at once." +</P> + +<P> +"You—you?" he stammered, rising slowly to his feet, and shaking +himself in the effort to collect his scattered wits. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," she said impatiently. "You are on guard here—he knows you are +outside his door?" +</P> + +<P> +"Why, yes, mistress—o' course. I'm to be here in case he needs aught, +as well as to keep folk out. He be alone, an' has ordered thet he's +not to be disturbed." +</P> + +<P> +"If he is alone," and her tone expressed relief, "so much the better +for me. I must have speech with him this very minute." +</P> + +<P> +Doak opened his mouth in remonstrance, but she would not permit him to +speak. +</P> + +<P> +"Do you hear?" she demanded. "I must see him this minute. Go and tell +him so; and tell him it is upon a matter of life and death." +</P> + +<P> +He said nothing more, but, looking more dazed than ever, turned and +rapped on the door. +</P> + +<P> +A voice whose deep tones had not yet left Dorothy's ears gave +permission to enter, and Doak, after bidding her to stop where she was, +went into the room. +</P> + +<P> +For a second Dorothy stood hesitating. Then a look of fixed resolution +came to her face, and before the door could close after the +fisherman-soldier, she stepped forward and followed him. +</P> + +<P> +Washington was—as when she intruded upon him before—seated at a +table. But now he was writing; and as the two entered the room, he +looked up as though annoyed at the interruption. +</P> + +<P> +But Dorothy, pushing Doak aside, advanced with an impetuosity that gave +no opportunity for questioning or reproof, and took away all need of +explanation from the astonished guardian of the great man's privacy. +</P> + +<P> +"You gave me this, sir—last night," she said, holding out the paper, +and speaking in the same fearless, trusting manner she would have +adopted toward her own father, "and you will surely remember what you +promised." +</P> + +<P> +As she came forward, Washington, seeing who it was, laid down his pen, +and his face took the expression it had borne when he was talking with +her the evening before. There was a tender, a welcoming light in his +eyes, as though her coming were a pleasure,—as if it brought relief +from the contemplation of the grave responsibilities resting upon him. +</P> + +<P> +He arose from his chair, and taking the paper from her hand, laid it +upon the table. Then he turned to her again and said smilingly, "My +dear child, the promise was surely of small worth if I could forget it +so soon after it was given." +</P> + +<P> +But there was no smile upon the face into which he was looking, and its +earnestness seemed now to bring to him the conviction that the girl had +come upon no trifling matter. +</P> + +<P> +He bade Doak resume his post outside the door, and to permit no one to +enter, howsoever important the business might be. Then, when the +fisherman had gone, he invited Dorothy to be seated, and asked her to +tell him the object of her coming. +</P> + +<P> +He sat down again by the table, but she remained standing, and now came +close to him, her clasped hands and pleading eyes fully as beseeching +as the words in which she framed her petition. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, sir—I have come to beg that you will not hang the English officer +whom I hear you suspect of being a spy." +</P> + +<P> +Washington started in surprise; a stern light gathered in his eyes, and +he looked as though illy pleased. +</P> + +<P> +Dorothy was quick to see this, and felt that her only hope of success +lay in telling him the entire truth. +</P> + +<P> +This she did, confiding in him as freely and fully as though she were +his daughter. +</P> + +<P> +When she ended, he sat for a time as if pondering over her story, and +the request to which it was the sequel. He had not interrupted her by +so much as a single word, but his eyes had been fixed upon her face +with an intensity that softened as she went on, in her own impulsive +way, to tell him of her troubles. +</P> + +<P> +Presently he said: "It is truly a sad tangle, my child,—one scarce +proper to think any gentleman would seek to bring into your young life. +But I am not yet old enough to hold that we should judge hot-headed +youth with too great severity. Indeed," the grave lines of his face +relaxing a little, "in this case I can see that the young man had +strong temptation to forget himself, and to do as he did." +</P> + +<P> +He paused and looked at her keenly, as if searching for the answer to a +question seeking solution in his own mind. +</P> + +<P> +She stood silently waiting, and he continued: "First of all, I must +know of a certainty as to one matter, in order that I may act with +discretion. My child," and he took one of her hands in his own, "do +not fear to show me your heart. Show it to me as you would to your own +dear father, were he, rather than I, asking you. Tell me—do you love +this man who is really your husband?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, sir," she answered, with no sign of hesitancy, as she lifted her +head and looked at him through the tears his words had brought to her +eyes, "I do love him." +</P> + +<P> +Washington smiled, as if relieved of a perplexing problem. +</P> + +<P> +"This brings about a very different order of affairs," he said in a way +that made her heart bound with hope. "Now it may be possible that this +captain is not your Cornet Southorn, although I think there is small +room for doubt in the matter. But, in order to solve the question, I +will have him brought here. Do you, my child, conceal yourself behind +the curtains of that window; and if he proves to be the officer of whom +we have been speaking, you have but to show yourself to assure me of +the fact. If not, then remain in hiding; and after putting a few +questions to him, I will have him taken back to his room." +</P> + +<P> +Doak was despatched to carry out the order, while Dorothy hid herself +in the curtains,—trembling with agitation when the sound of footsteps +was heard again outside the door. +</P> + +<P> +The fisherman entered with the prisoner, and Dorothy, looking through +the slightly parted drapery, saw the olive face and purple-blue eyes of +the man she loved. +</P> + +<P> +His long boots were splashed with the mire of the highway, his uniform +showed traces of the struggle of the night before, and his curly hair +was dishevelled. +</P> + +<P> +More than this, his haggard face and dark-circled eyes gave proof of a +sleepless and anxious night. +</P> + +<P> +But as he came into the room he drew himself erect, and met +unflinchingly the stern eyes of the man in whose hands lay his fate. +</P> + +<P> +The door had no sooner closed upon Doak's retreating figure than +Dorothy stepped from behind the curtains. +</P> + +<P> +The young man gave a violent start, and the arms that had been folded +across his chest fell to his sides, as he uttered her name,—at the +same time taking a step toward her. Then he came to a standstill, and +passed his hand over his eyes, as if to clear them of something that +impeded his vision. +</P> + +<P> +And there was reason for this, as Dorothy did not speak, and stood +motionless, her hands clasped in front of her, while she looked at him +with an expression he seemed unable to define. +</P> + +<P> +Washington's face had grown less severe as he noted all this; and while +the two still remained gazing at one another, his voice broke the +silence. +</P> + +<P> +"The cause of your presence in this neighborhood, Captain Southorn, +which your gallantry forbade you to explain, even in the face of an +ignominious death, has been revealed to me by one whose truth and +fidelity no human being should know better than yourself. She has told +me that which leads me to take upon myself the responsibility of +clearing you from the very grave suspicions aroused by your action of +last night, and of holding you simply as a prisoner of war. For all +this, you have Mistress Dorothy to thank—for your life and your +restored honor." +</P> + +<P> +No pen can describe the emotions of the two listeners as they heard +these words, nor could any pencil portray the reflection of these +emotions upon their faces. +</P> + +<P> +Southorn's expression was that of thankfulness, mingled with +amazement,—doubt, as though he feared the treachery of his own senses, +while Dorothy's face became all aglow with delight and triumph at her +success. +</P> + +<P> +The young man stepped impetuously toward Washington, and was about to +speak, but the latter raised his hand. +</P> + +<P> +"You, sir, as an officer of the King," he said gravely, "know the +weight of such a debt as this, and no words of mine can add to the +sense of your obligation to her. This being so," and he glanced from +one to the other of them, while the suggestion of a smile relieved the +sternness of his face, "I will leave you with her for a short time, in +order that you may express your gratitude in fitting terms, while I +consider what course is best for me to pursue in carrying out the +purpose I have in view." +</P> + +<P> +With this he arose from his chair, and bowing to them, withdrew to the +inner room, closing the door after him. +</P> + +<P> +For a single moment there was silence between the two he had left +alone, and no one could now accuse Dorothy of any lack of color in her +cheeks. +</P> + +<P> +"Dorothy—sweetheart, what does all this mean?" +</P> + +<P> +The young man spoke in almost a whisper, looking at her as though she +were a vision, a part of some strange dream. His voice faltered, and +his eyes moved restlessly as he came toward her, walking slowly and +uncertainly. +</P> + +<P> +But Dorothy, her wonted self-possession and courage now fully restored, +did not wait for him to come to her. She advanced smilingly, her eyes +alight with happiness, and laid both her hands within his. +</P> + +<P> +Then, while they stood face to face, she told him hurriedly of what she +had done. +</P> + +<P> +While she was speaking, he looked at her in that same queer way, his +eyes wandering over her face and figure, while now and again he pressed +her little soft hands, as though to gain through them still greater +assurance of the blessed reality. +</P> + +<P> +But when she finished, his eyes ceased their roaming, and became fixed +upon her beaming face. +</P> + +<P> +"My darling," he said slowly, "do you realize the full measure of what +you have done for me? Do you know that you not only have given me +life, but have saved me from that which to a soldier is more terrible +than the torments of hell itself,—the disgrace of being hanged as a +spy?" +</P> + +<P> +His voice broke, and a spasm of pain shot across his face. Then he +exclaimed in a tone filled with self-condemnation, "And this you have +done for the man who forced his love upon you,—who married you by a +trick—aye, by violence; the man who—" +</P> + +<P> +She drew one hand away from his grasp and put it firmly against his +lips. +</P> + +<P> +"Stop!" she commanded, with all her natural imperiousness. "I'll +listen to no more talk such as that. Had you not married me in the way +you did, 't is not likely you would have wed me at all, for I have come +to know that I am no girl to be won by soft speeches, and sighs, and +tears." +</P> + +<P> +"What!" he cried, not believing his ears. "Can it be possible—" +</P> + +<P> +He had no need to finish the question, for her arms stole up and went +around his neck, and her blushing face was hidden over his heart. +</P> + +<P> +"My love—my wife—can it be that you love me at last?" +</P> + +<P> +"At last!" She lifted her head and looked into his eyes. "I believe I +have loved you from the very first—since the time you opened your eyes +when I held your head that day on the rocks. I loved you when you +kissed me, the time we met in the wood, and I loved you when we stood +before Parson Weeks; and—I'll love you all my life." +</P> + +<P> +He drew her to him with a force almost rough in its fierceness, and +covered her face with kisses. +</P> + +<P> +"God be praised for those words!" he exclaimed. Then he sighed deeply. +</P> + +<P> +"I have been such a miserable dog, sweetheart, ever since the night I +left Marblehead. I was hoping until then to receive some little word +bidding me come to you,—to come and tell your people the truth, and +face their opinion and anger, such as I deserved for what I had done. +But after I left you that night, I lost all hope, and prayed only that +a bullet might set me free from my self-reproaches and misery." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh—you wicked—" Dorothy began; but he silenced her with a kiss. +</P> + +<P> +"I have just received tidings of my father's illness, and his wish for +my return," he continued, "and was thinking of setting sail for home, +when my eyes were blessed with sight of you yesterday, and I was +dragged out here by a force I was unable to resist. I hoped to have +speech with you somehow, if only that I might implore your forgiveness +before I went away." +</P> + +<P> +"And now you know there is naught to forgive," she said, smiling up +into his face. +</P> + +<P> +Then she drew herself a little away from him, and taking hold of the +collar of his red coat as though to detain him, added softly, "But +you'll not go now, will you?" +</P> + +<P> +He laughed exultingly; but his face became sad again as he stroked the +ripples of curling hair clustering about her forehead. +</P> + +<P> +"It would seem, sweetheart," he said, "as if that might be the wisest +course for me to pursue; for how can I find heart to take up arms +against the country and people—aye, against the very kindred—of my +own wife?" +</P> + +<P> +A look of sorrowing dread swept all the light from Dorothy's face; but +the brightness returned somewhat as he said more cheerily: "Well, well, +my little one, it is waste of time to talk of such matters now, for you +see I am not free to go anywhere just at this present. 'Sufficient for +the day,' you know, 'is the evil thereof;' and surely we have evil to +fear, even yet. But nothing can daunt me now—now that my honor is +cleared; and that, too, by such an unlooked-for ray of light from +Heaven, and with it the knowledge that you love me, and dared so +bravely to save my life." +</P> + +<P> +The door-knob was now rattled with a warning significance, and the two +sprang away from each other as General Washington slowly entered the +room. +</P> + +<P> +His face bore an odd expression, and one that was pleasant to look +upon, as he glanced from Dorothy to her husband. Then his eyes +returned to the girl's face, and he asked, with no attempt to conceal a +smile, "Well, my child, is all settled to your satisfaction, +and"—after a second's pause—"liking?" +</P> + +<P> +She tried to answer him, but could not. Her heart was too overflowing +with gratitude, happiness, hope. +</P> + +<P> +They all seemed struggling for precedence in the words that should come +from her lips, and she found herself unable to speak. +</P> + +<P> +Her eyes filled, and she looked up as though imploring him to find in +her face all that her lips failed to say. Then she sprang forward, and +seizing his hand, pressed it to her lips. +</P> + +<P> +He appeared to understand fully the cause of her silence and +agitation,—to know and appreciate the emotions that rendered her dumb; +and the lines of his face resumed their accustomed gravity as he +withdrew his hand from her clasp and laid it gently upon the curly head +so far beneath his own majestic height. +</P> + +<P> +"God bless you, my daughter, and keep you—always!" +</P> + +<P> +No father could have spoken more tenderly to his child; and the words +came to Dorothy as a benediction from him who had so recently passed +away. +</P> + +<P> +Washington now addressed himself to Captain Southorn. +</P> + +<P> +"You have in this child a priceless treasure," he said. "God grant +that you ne'er forget the fact, nor the debt you owe her." +</P> + +<P> +"I never will—I never can, sir," the young man answered with +unmistakable sincerity, as he came and took his wife by the hand. "Of +that, sir, you may rest assured," he added, in a voice shaking with +strong emotion. +</P> + +<P> +Washington bent his head in approval. "For the present," he continued, +"I deem it proper that you remain as before. I purpose stopping here +until afternoon, and will then have you taken to Cambridge, unless some +unforeseen matter shall arise to alter my plans." +</P> + +<P> +The prisoner bowed in silence; then, as Washington went toward the door +to summon Doak, the young man turned to smile hopefully into his wife's +eyes. +</P> + +<P> +"Keep a brave heart, sweet one," he whispered, "and trust in my love +and truth. Naught can ever part us now." +</P> + +<P> +A minute later the door closed after the fisherman and his charge. +</P> + +<P> +"Keep the paper, child," Washington said to Dorothy, as soon as they +were alone, "and remember that the promise it contains is renewed for +the future. In such days as are about us, it is not improbable to +reckon upon its being needed again—although scarcely for a like +purpose." +</P> + +<P> +He smiled, as his fingers closed upon the small hand within which he +placed the eventful slip of paper. "And now go, my daughter," he +added, "and may God bless you. Trust in Him, and He will surely watch +over your life, and make all well in the end." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap30"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XXX +</H3> + +<P> +Had Dorothy been less absorbed by anxiety and grief when she was making +her way to General Washington's apartments, she would have heard the +door of the taproom open softly as she reached the foot of the stairs +leading to the second floor. +</P> + +<P> +Farmer Gilbert's head was thrust from the opening, and his fierce eyes +watched the slight figure ascend to the landing above and turn in the +direction of the rooms occupied by the Commander-in-Chief. +</P> + +<P> +As soon as she was out of sight, he glanced up and down the hall, to +make certain no one was near, and slipped cautiously out. Then quickly +removing his heavy shoes, he stole, cat-like, up the stairway. +</P> + +<P> +His progress was stayed by the voices of the girl and Doak; and raising +his head until his eyes were on a level with the floor, he saw them +enter the room together. +</P> + +<P> +"Whatever be she up to?" he muttered. Then hearing footsteps in the +hall below, he sped noiselessly up the few remaining steps, and made +haste to hide himself in Mistress Trask's linen-press, standing only a +short distance away, and which afforded him ample opportunity for +watching, as he held the door ajar. +</P> + +<P> +"Aha, my lady spy," he whispered to himself, "I'll keep my eye on +ye—an' my ears, too. Ye can't fool Jason Gilbert, 'though ye may fool +some as thinks they know more as I." +</P> + +<P> +He saw Doak fetch the British prisoner, and noted the length of time +the young man remained in the room whither the girl had gone. +</P> + +<P> +"Aye—him outside, last night, an' she on the inside," his maudlin +thoughts ran on. "They thought to hev it all their own way,—to tell +the Britishers the names o' the officers that were here, an' all that +was goin' on. An' now here be General Washington himself, I'll be +bound, lettin' her coax him to save t' other spy from hangin', when +they both ought to be strung up together. I wish now I'd not set up a +hello that brought the men out o' the inn, but had jest given him a +crack o'er the head myself, to settle the matter, an' so hev none o' +this triflin', with her tryin' to pull the wool over the General's +eyes. But I guess he'll know 'em for the pair o' d——d British spies +they be." +</P> + +<P> +His lips moved in unworded mutterings, his eyes intent upon Doak—now +sitting by the closed door—or else glancing about the hall to see if +any one were approaching his place of concealment. +</P> + +<P> +When Doak was again summoned within the room, Gilbert thought to +improve the chance for making his escape; but seeing that the door was +open a few inches, he concluded to wait. Then he saw the fisherman +come out with the prisoner, and he uttered a low curse when the young +man turned to meet the girl's eyes before the door closed behind him. +</P> + +<P> +Before the sound of their footsteps died away down the hall, Farmer +Gilbert left his hiding-place and hastened below, sitting down on the +steps to replace his shoes, as one of the women servants came along. +</P> + +<P> +"Got a pebble, or summat, in my shoe," he explained, raising his head; +for the girl had stopped, and was staring at him curiously. +</P> + +<P> +"Did ye have to take off both shoes to find it?" she asked pertly. +</P> + +<P> +He did not answer, and she passed on to the tap-room, whither he +followed her. +</P> + +<P> +Less than an hour after this, as Mary and Dorothy were in their little +parlor, talking over the recent happenings, the landlady came to +announce that General Washington desired to see them at once. +</P> + +<P> +They observed, as they passed along the hall, that some fresh +excitement seemed to prevail, for they could see that the taproom was +filled with men, many of whom were talking animatedly. +</P> + +<P> +The door of Washington's room stood open, and they saw him in earnest +conversation with two other officers, who withdrew as the girls entered. +</P> + +<P> +He welcomed them kindly, although seeming preoccupied,—as if pressed +by some new matter which disturbed him. +</P> + +<P> +"A messenger has brought information that a body of the enemy is coming +in this direction," he said, speaking quite hurriedly. "It is +therefore prudent that we go our ways with all proper speed, and I wish +to urge your own immediate departure. I regret that our routes lie in +different directions; but I will send the man Doak to escort you, as it +appears he is well known to your family." +</P> + +<P> +Seeing the consternation in the girls' faces, he added reassuringly: +"There is no cause for alarm, for you have ample time to put a safe +distance between yourselves and the approaching British. I think it +probable they will halt for a time here, at the tavern, for this seems +to be their objective point." +</P> + +<P> +"Do you think there is like to be a battle?" Mary inquired nervously. +</P> + +<P> +Washington smiled at her fears. +</P> + +<P> +"No," he answered. "It is but a moderate-sized force—probably +reconnoitring. We shall, I trust, have the enemy well out of Boston +erelong, without the risk or slaughter of a battle." +</P> + +<P> +Then he added: "But we are losing valuable time, and I have something +more pleasant than battles to speak about. I take it, Mistress +Devereux,"—and he turned to Mary,—"that your little sister here has +made you aware of what passed between us but an hour ago?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, sir." And Mary stole a side glance at Dorothy, wondering that +the girl should appear so self-possessed. +</P> + +<P> +"Captain Southorn will go with me to Cambridge," he continued, "where +his ultimate disposition will be decided upon." +</P> + +<P> +Dorothy started; but looking at Washington, she saw a smile in the +kindly glance bent upon her troubled face. +</P> + +<P> +"He will also meet Lieutenant Devereux there, and this I deem a +desirable thing for all concerned. So take heart, Mistress Dorothy, +and trust that all will end happily." +</P> + +<P> +He looked at his watch, and then held out a hand to each of them. +</P> + +<P> +"Get you under way for Dorchester at once," he said, "and you shall +hear something from me within the week." +</P> + +<P> +With this he led them to the door and bade them God speed, warning them +once more to make haste in leaving the inn. +</P> + +<P> +When they had put on their riding-hats, and gathered up their few +belongings, the two girls left their room in company with Mistress +Trask, who, between the excitement of seeing her distinguished guests +depart, and the unusual exercise attending the concealment of her +choicest viands from the approaching enemy, was well-nigh speechless. +</P> + +<P> +Emerging from the narrow passage leading to the main hall of the inn, +they encountered a small knot of men looking curiously at Captain +Southorn and the two soldiers guarding him, who were standing at the +foot of the staircase, apart from the others, and were apparently +waiting for orders, while outside the open door several other men were +gathered, in charge of a dozen or more horses. +</P> + +<P> +As Mary's glance fell upon the young Englishman, she flushed a little, +and holding her chin a bit higher than before, turned her eyes in +another direction—but not until he saw the angry flash in them. +</P> + +<P> +A faint smile touched his lips as he lifted his hat, and then an eager +look came to his eyes as he saw the small figure following close behind +her, whose steps seemed to falter as she neared him. +</P> + +<P> +Just then there was a call from above stairs; and as one of the guards +ascended hastily to answer it, Captain Southorn said something in a low +tone to the other one—quite a young man—standing beside him. +</P> + +<P> +He listened, and then shook his head, but hesitatingly, as he glanced +toward Dorothy, who was looking wistfully at his prisoner. +</P> + +<P> +Good Mistress Trask had chanced to overhear what the Britisher said; +and speaking to the young soldier, she exclaimed testily: +"Fiddlesticks, Tommy Macklin! Why not let him speak a word to the +young lady, when he asks ye so polite-like? What harm can come of it? +They be old acquaintances." +</P> + +<P> +Tommy seemed to waver; but being a good-hearted young fellow, as well +as standing somewhat in awe of the landlady, who was a distant +relative, he made no farther objection, and nodded his consent. +</P> + +<P> +Southorn gave Mistress Trask a grateful smile, and stepping quickly to +where Dorothy was standing, took her hand and led her a few steps away +from the others, as he asked in a low voice, "Do you know what is to be +done with me, sweetheart?" +</P> + +<P> +"Only that you are to go to Cambridge," was the hurried reply. +</P> + +<P> +"I knew that much myself," he said smilingly. "But what is the meaning +of all this sudden stir?" +</P> + +<P> +"They say the—British are marching toward the inn," she whispered, her +mind troubled by the fear that she had no right to give him this +information. +</P> + +<P> +He drew a quick breath; and she readily divined the thoughts that +caused him to frown, and bite his lips. +</P> + +<P> +"General Washington said you would meet my brother at Cambridge, and +that it was best to—best for—that it was important for you to see +him," she added stammeringly, while her color deepened. +</P> + +<P> +The scowl left his face, and he smiled at her in a way to make her eyes +seek the floor. +</P> + +<P> +"Aha! did he, indeed? Well then, no doubt it is best that I am going +to Cambridge, and as soon as may be. But," with some anxiety, "what +think you this brother of yours will say to me, or will a bullet be all +he will have for my hearing?" +</P> + +<P> +"No, indeed no!" Dorothy exclaimed. "Jack would never show you +unkindness, for he knows—he well knows, because I told him—" +</P> + +<P> +"Do you mean to say," he asked quickly, cutting short her words, "that +your brother has known all this time the blessed truth that I learned +only this very morning?" +</P> + +<P> +"He only knew of it just before he left home in the summer," she +whispered. "I had to tell him." +</P> + +<P> +"Why?" +</P> + +<P> +"I was afraid you and he might meet, and I was fearful that—" The +voice died away, and Dorothy's head drooped. +</P> + +<P> +"Sweetheart," he said softly, "I understand. You must have been sadly +torn betwixt your love and what you thought to be your duty. It makes +me realize more keenly what a brute I have made of myself. But trust +me—only trust and believe in my honor and true love, and I will try +all my life to make amends for the suffering I have caused you." +</P> + +<P> +Washington and his suite were now descending the stairs, and Tommy +Macklin hastened to place himself closer to his prisoner as the other +soldier joined him. +</P> + +<P> +Then Southorn turned to Dorothy and said: "It is evident that we are +about to leave. Tell me quickly as to your own movements,—you surely +are not going to stop here?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh no; Mary and I are to set out right away for Dorchester, and +Fisherman Doak is to see us safely housed with Mistress Knollys." +</P> + +<P> +"You will go at once," he insisted, "and not delay a second?" +</P> + +<P> +She nodded smilingly, and their eyes spoke the farewell their lips were +forbidden to utter. +</P> + +<P> +Mary had been standing all this time alongside Mistress Trask, her face +studiously averted from the two at whom nearly all the others were +staring wonderingly. +</P> + +<P> +She now came forward, and without looking at Captain Southorn, joined +Dorothy; and in company with the landlady they passed through the door +into the midday sunlight flooding the world outside. +</P> + +<P> +Washington and those with him were the first to leave,—their departure +being witnessed by every one at the inn. +</P> + +<P> +The two girls were now standing side by side in the doorway; and +Captain Southorn, on horseback, with a mounted guard on either side of +him, smiled again as his glance fell on Mary's spirited face, and at +the thought it awakened of that morning at the Sachem's Cave. +</P> + +<P> +"They be goin' to take the spy to Cambridge, to hang him," muttered +Farmer Gilbert to Mistress Trask, his restless eyes roving from the +sweet young face in the doorway to that of the young man sitting upon +the horse. +</P> + +<P> +"No such thing," said the landlady, with an indignant sniff. "He is a +prisoner, but there's no further talk o' hangin'." +</P> + +<P> +"Who says so?" and the farmer's scowling brows grew blacker. +</P> + +<P> +"The young ladies say so, an' they both know him—knew him long ago." +</P> + +<P> +"Aye, that I'll be bound, as to one of 'em, at any rate," he growled, +eying Dorothy savagely. The girl's face was telling her secret, while +she stood watching her husband turn for a parting smile as he rode off +with the others. +</P> + +<P> +"Where do she live?" Gilbert asked suddenly, jerking his thumb toward +the doorway, in front of which Doak was now standing with the horses. +</P> + +<P> +"Down at Marblehead, when they be at home; both of 'em live there," the +landlady answered. "But they be stoppin' at Dorchester now, with +friends, an' there's where they're bound for." With this she turned +away, her manner showing that she desired no further parley with him. +</P> + +<P> +The man stood for a few moments, as if reflecting upon what he had +heard. Then, with one more glance at the two girls, he turned slowly +about, and took his way to the stables of the inn. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap31"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XXXI +</H3> + +<P> +Doak and his charges had gone but a short distance when the sound of +hoofs behind them caused all three to turn, wondering who might be +approaching. +</P> + +<P> +It was a man, evidently an American by his appearance; and as they +looked back at him, he seemed to check the hitherto brisk gait of his +horse. +</P> + +<P> +Dorothy was the first to recognize him. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, Mary, 't is that dreadful man who frightened us!" +</P> + +<P> +"Frightened ye?" echoed Doak, interrogatively. "How was that, +mistress?" +</P> + +<P> +When Mary explained what had taken place the night before, he glanced +back again, and saw that the distance between them was rapidly +increasing, for the man in the rear was letting his horse walk, while +he sat swinging loosely in the saddle. +</P> + +<P> +"There be naught to fear now," he said, in a way to reassure the two +girls. "He's not like to think o' tryin' any frightenin' game with me. +An' he rides like he had too much store o' liquor aboard to be thinkin' +of aught but keepin' firm hold on his craft." Then, when he had looked +again, "He be fallin' way behind, so there's no call for bein' +fright'ed, either one o' ye." +</P> + +<P> +They soon lost sight of the stranger, and without further happening +arrived safely at their destination, to receive a motherly welcome from +Mistress Knollys, who had been most anxious concerning them, knowing +how the roads were infested with stragglers from both armies. +</P> + +<P> +She insisted upon Doak alighting to take some refreshment; and he, +nothing loath, did so, while she wrote a letter to her son for the +fisherman to carry back to Cambridge. +</P> + +<P> +Dorothy and Mary also improved the opportunity to write to Jack, Dot +even venturing to enclose a little missive for Captain Southorn, which +she begged her brother to deliver. +</P> + +<P> +It was her first love letter, although so demure and prim in its +wording as scarcely to deserve that name. But a loyal affection +breathed through it, praying him to hope, and to trust in Washington's +friendship for them. +</P> + +<P> +Mistress Knollys listened with widening eyes to Mary's account of their +interview with the great man,—for she invested him with all the power +of His Gracious Majesty, and regarded him with more awe than ever she +had King George himself. +</P> + +<P> +She laughed outright over the description of their having been caught +in his apartments, and asked to see the paper he had given Dorothy, +touching it as something most sacred. +</P> + +<P> +Dorothy had gone above stairs, leaving Mary and the good woman together +in the living-room, where the afternoon sunshine poured across the +floor in broad slants from the two windows opening upon the garden at +the rear of the house. +</P> + +<P> +Presently Mistress Knollys said, "It would seem, my dear, to be the +very best outcome for Dorothy's matter, the way things have befallen." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," Mary assented with a sigh, "so it does." +</P> + +<P> +"And yet," added the old lady, "I fear it will be hard for the little +maid, with a brother and husband fighting against one another." +</P> + +<P> +"Ah, but you forget, dear Mistress Knollys, that he told her he thought +of setting sail for his home in England." +</P> + +<P> +"And then I suppose she would go with him." +</P> + +<P> +"Aye;" and Mary sighed again. "I think she will surely wish to do +this." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, well, my dear," said Mistress Knollys, speaking more briskly, +"that is not like to be right away, as he must await his exchange as a +prisoner, and there's no telling when that will come to pass. Let us +borrow no trouble until we know the end, which, after all, may be a +happy one." +</P> + +<P> +It was the fourth day after this that Mary was gladdened by the sight +of her husband riding up in front of Mistress Knollys' door; and with +him were Hugh and a dozen other stout fellows on horseback. He +explained that they had but a short time to tarry, and were come at +Washington's command, to carry Dorothy back with them to Cambridge. +</P> + +<P> +"Hey, you little mischief, see the stir you are guilty of +making,—getting half the camp by the ears with your goings on," he +said laughingly, and in a way to set at rest all her misgivings, as he +took her in his arms. +</P> + +<P> +"But what am I to go to Cambridge for?" she asked rather nervously, +still with her arms around his neck, and holding back her head to get a +better look at his face, in which a serious expression seemed to be +underlying its usual brightness. +</P> + +<P> +"Did I not tell you,—because General Washington sent us to fetch you? +But come," he added more gravely, "we must get away at once. Hasten +and get yourself ready and I will tell you all as we ride along." +</P> + +<P> +"Had I not better go with her?" asked Mary, when Dot had left them. +</P> + +<P> +Her husband shook his head. "No, it was only Dot we were to bring." +</P> + +<P> +"But for her to go alone, with a lot of men—" Mary began. +</P> + +<P> +He put an arm around her shoulder as he interrupted her remonstrances. +</P> + +<P> +"She goes with her brother, sweetheart, and to meet her husband." +</P> + +<P> +"But she is coming back?" And Mary spoke very anxiously. +</P> + +<P> +"Aye, she'll return sometime to-morrow; but for how long is for herself +and the other to decide." +</P> + +<P> +Then he explained: "The British have a man of ours, one Captain +Pickett, a valiant soldier, with a stout arm and true heart. They have +had him these three months, a prisoner in Boston, and we have been most +anxious to bring about his exchange. General Washington has now +arranged this through Southorn, who is to return to-morrow to Boston, +and Captain Pickett is to be sent to us. After that, as I have said, +we have no right to dictate Dorothy's movements. Captain Southorn has +told me that he should return to England as soon as may be." +</P> + +<P> +"Then," said Mary in a tone of conviction, and the tears springing to +her eyes, "Dot will go with him." +</P> + +<P> +"Aye, belike," he sighed, "for they love one another truly." +</P> + +<P> +"And you, Jack, do you—can you look at and speak to this man with any +tolerance?" demanded his wife, the asperity of her voice seeming to dry +away the tears. +</P> + +<P> +"I try to do so, for Dot's sake, and for what he is to her. I've found +him to be a gentleman, and a right manly fellow, despite the prank of +which he was guilty." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, I shall hate him the longest day I live!" +</P> + +<P> +Mary could say nothing more, for Mistress Knollys and Hugh now came in +from another room, where they had been together. +</P> + +<P> +Dorothy had passed this room on her way up the stairs, and seeing Hugh, +stopped, while he came forward quickly to meet her. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, Hugh, but I am truly glad to see you once more!" she exclaimed. +"How long, how very long it seems since you went away!" And there were +tears shining in the eyes she raised to his face. +</P> + +<P> +He clasped both her extended hands, and reminding himself of all he had +heard, strove to hide his true feelings, while his mother, from the +room back of them, watched the two in silence, still seeming to hear +the cry he had uttered only a moment before,— +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, mother, mother, I feel that my heart will break!" +</P> + +<P> +Dorothy could not but observe the paleness of his face, and the traces +as of recent tears showing about the blue eyes; but she attributed +these to other than the real cause,—perhaps to matters arising between +his mother and himself after their long separation. +</P> + +<P> +"I am glad you have missed me sufficiently to make the time seem long +to you, Dot," he replied, well aware, in the bitterness of his own +heart, of how little this had to do with her show of emotion. +</P> + +<P> +"Aye, I have missed you very much," she declared earnestly. "And so +many sad things have happened since!" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes—and so many that are not sad," he added significantly, desiring, +since he might be expected to speak of her marriage, to have it over +with. +</P> + +<P> +A burning blush deepened the color in her cheeks. She drew away the +hands he had been holding all this time, her eyes fell, and she seemed +scarcely to know how to reply. +</P> + +<P> +"I pray God you will be very happy, Dorothy." And his speaking her +full name accentuated the gravity of his voice and manner. +</P> + +<P> +"Thank you, Hugh," she replied, trying to smile: then, with a nervous +laugh, "And when you return to Marblehead and see Polly Chine, I hope I +may say the same to you." +</P> + +<P> +The young man forced a laugh that well-nigh choked him. It had been +hard enough to endure before he saw her. But even when he knew from +her brother of her being forced into a marriage with this Britisher, +his heart refused to relinquish all hope, despite what his friend had +told him of Dorothy's own feeling toward her husband. +</P> + +<P> +But he had still cherished the idea that somehow, in some way, they +might never come together again; that the Britisher, believing Dorothy +to have no love for him, might sail away to England without her, should +the fortune of war spare him to do this. +</P> + +<P> +He also reckoned—hoped, rather—that the girl was so young as to +recover from any sentiment this stranger might have awakened within her +heart. +</P> + +<P> +But now, in the light of what had come about and was soon to be, all +hope was dead for him. The sight of the face and form he had never +loved so well as now,—when she seemed so sweet and so lovable in her +newly acquired womanliness—all this was unnerving him. +</P> + +<P> +With these thoughts whirling through his brain, he stood looking at +her, while he forced such an unnatural laugh as made her glance at him +nervously and draw herself away. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm not like to see the old town for many a long day, I fear," he +managed to say, his voice growing less strained as he saw the wondering +look in her dark eyes; "and as for Polly Chine, you must find one more +suited to my taste before you 've cause to wish me what I now wish you +with all my heart." +</P> + +<P> +With this he turned hastily away, and his mother asked, "You are going +to get ready to start for Cambridge, child?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," replied Dorothy, "I must leave at once." +</P> + +<P> +"And can I do aught to help?" the good woman inquired. +</P> + +<P> +Upon being assured that she could not, she cheerily bade the girl make +haste, and to remember that she was expected to return the next day. +</P> + +<P> +"I shall miss the child sorely," she said, as the click of Dorothy's +little heels died away on the floor above. +</P> + +<P> +Hugh said nothing, but sighed heavily, as he stood looking out of the +window with eyes that saw nothing. +</P> + +<P> +His mother went to him and laid a gentle hand upon his broad shoulder. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, my son, my dear son," she said in a trembling voice, "my old heart +is sore for you. I have hoped for years that—" +</P> + +<P> +He whirled suddenly about. +</P> + +<P> +"Don't mother—don't say any more—not now. Let me fight it out alone, +and try to keep such a bearing as will prevent her from knowing the +truth." +</P> + +<P> +Then the passion in his voice died out, and he caressed her gray hair +with a loving touch. +</P> + +<P> +She drew his face down and kissed him. +</P> + +<P> +"Come," she said, with an effort at cheerfulness,—"come into the other +room and have speech with Mary before you go, else she'll think we've +lost all proper sense of our manners. This is the first time you and +she have met since her marriage." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap32"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XXXII +</H3> + +<P> +It was evening when the party reached the headquarters at Cambridge. +</P> + +<P> +A faint afterglow of the brilliant sunset still lingered, but the +roadway leading to the entrance of the house was dusky with the shadows +of coming night, which almost hid the great trees on either side. +</P> + +<P> +The air about was filled with the faint hum of camp life. Occasionally +a voice could be heard, or the neighing of a horse,—figures of men +were discernible here and there, and a sentry was pacing before the +steps of the mansion. +</P> + +<P> +"Here we are, Dot," said her brother; and dismounting, he helped her +from her horse. "Careful, child;" for she had tripped, her +riding-skirt having become entangled about her feet as she followed him +into the open doorway. "I will take you directly to the room prepared +for you, and do you wait there until I return." +</P> + +<P> +She said nothing, but held fast to his arm. +</P> + +<P> +"Come, be brave," he whispered; "there is naught for you to fear." And +he led her within, leaving Hugh Knollys with the other men outside. +</P> + +<P> +The hall was spacious and well lighted. Several officers and privates +were moving about, all of whom stared wonderingly at the unusual sight +of a lady,—although it was not easy to decide whether it was a woman +or child—this dainty little figure in the riding-habit, who was +looking about with unconcealed curiosity. +</P> + +<P> +Far down the hall, to the left, her brother opened a door, showing a +spacious, well-furnished chamber, where a wood fire was blazing,—for +the night was drawing in chilly. +</P> + +<P> +"Now take off your hat, child, and feel at home," he said, kissing her. +"Remember there is naught to fear. It is only that we are wishing to +fix matters for you, little one, so that you'll be happy." And he +kissed her again as she clung to his neck. +</P> + +<P> +"Ah, Jack," she whispered, "you are so good to me!" +</P> + +<P> +"I've never had the wish to be other than good," he replied lovingly. +</P> + +<P> +As soon as she was alone, Dorothy removed her hat, and then, as she +stood by the hearth, watching the leaping flames, smoothed out her +curls. +</P> + +<P> +So engaged, and lost in thought, she did not hear the tapping upon the +door, nor see that it opened softly and a man's figure paused on the +threshold, as if watching the slight form standing by the fire, with +the back turned squarely to him. +</P> + +<P> +"Little one," came in a voice that startled the silence. +</P> + +<P> +She turned like a flash, and although the firelight did not touch his +face, it was not needed to tell her who it was. +</P> + +<P> +He closed the door, and advanced with outstretched arms, laughing with +exultation when she fled to them. +</P> + +<P> +"You are still of the same mind as when we parted?" he said, while he +held her as if never meaning to let her go from him again. +</P> + +<P> +"How can you ask?" And she nestled yet closer to him. +</P> + +<P> +His only answer was to kiss her. Then, bringing a chair to the hearth, +he seated himself, and attempted to draw her upon his knee. But she +frustrated this by perching herself upon the arm of the chair, from +which she looked triumphantly into his face. +</P> + +<P> +"Your hands are cold, little one," he said, holding them against his +cheek. +</P> + +<P> +"We had a long ride," she replied, her eyes drooping before the +intensity of his gaze. +</P> + +<P> +"Aye, so you did; are you tired?" +</P> + +<P> +"No, not at all," was her smiling answer, and her appearance did not +belie the words. +</P> + +<P> +"Hungry?"—with a little laugh, and tightening the clasp of his arm +about her. +</P> + +<P> +"No," again lifting her eyes to his happy face. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, I have been hungry for days, and with a hunger that is now being +happily appeased. But a supper is to be ready for you shortly, and +then you are to see General Washington. Do you understand, sweetheart, +what all this is about?" He was looking down at the small hands +resting in one of his own, and smiling as he noted with a lover's eye +how dainty and white they were. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," she said, "my brother explained all that to me." +</P> + +<P> +"And you will come with me—now, at once, as soon as I can make my +arrangements?" He spoke hurriedly, nervously. +</P> + +<P> +"To England?" she asked, a very serious look now showing in her dark +eyes. +</P> + +<P> +"Aye, to England," he repeated in a tone whose firmness was +contradicted by his perturbed face. +</P> + +<P> +Disengaging one hand, her arm stole around his neck as she whispered, +"I would go to the ends of the earth with you now." +</P> + +<P> +He held her head away, the better to look into her face, as he said +with a sigh of contentment: "Now I can breathe easy! You see I did not +dare believe you would really come,—you've ever been such a capricious +little rebel." +</P> + +<P> +Presently he asked, as he toyed with her small fingers, "Where got you +all these different rings, little one?" and a note almost of jealousy +sounded in his voice. "Here be many pretty brilliants—I thought maids +in this country never wore such. How comes such a baby as you with a +ring like this?" And he lifted her hand to look at the one which had +attracted his special notice. +</P> + +<P> +"My father gave it to me," she said quietly; "it was my mother's—whom +I never saw." +</P> + +<P> +He pressed his lips to the sparkling circlet. "My little wife, I'll be +mother, father—all things else to you. All of them together could not +love you more truly and sacredly than do I. Ah, my darling, you have +but poor knowledge of the way I love you, and how highly I prize your +esteem. How can you, after the rough wooing to which I treated you?" +</P> + +<P> +Then he whispered, "And where is the ruby ring?" +</P> + +<P> +He felt her head stir uneasily against his shoulder, "Surely you did +not throw it away?" he asked after a moment's waiting. +</P> + +<P> +Dorothy laughed, softly and happily. +</P> + +<P> +"You told me that night at Master Weeks'," she whispered, "that you did +not believe what my lips said, but what my eyes had shown you." +</P> + +<P> +"Aye, so I did, and so I thought when I spoke. But until now I've been +tossed about with such conflicting thoughts as scarce to know what to +think." +</P> + +<P> +"That may be so," she said, sitting erect to look at him. "But, +believing what you read in my eyes then and before, think you I would +throw away the ring?" +</P> + +<P> +"Then where is it?" he asked again, smiling at her earnestness. +</P> + +<P> +For answer she raised her hands to her neck, and undoing the fastening +of a gold chain, drew it, with the ring strung upon it, from where they +had rested, and laid them both in his hand. +</P> + +<P> +His fingers closed quickly over them as he exclaimed, "Was there ever +such a true little sweetheart?" +</P> + +<P> +Then lifting her into his lap, he said, "You have never yet said to me +in words that you really love me. Tell me so now—say it!" +</P> + +<P> +"Think you that you have need for words?" A bit of her old wilfulness +was now showing in her laughing eyes. +</P> + +<P> +"Nay—truly no need, after what you have done for me, and have said you +would go home with me. But there's a wish to hear such words, little +one, and to hear you speak my name—which, now that I think of it, I +verily believe you do not even know." +</P> + +<P> +She nodded smilingly, but did not answer. +</P> + +<P> +"What is it?" he asked coaxingly, as he would have spoken to a child. +</P> + +<P> +"Ah—I know it." And she laughed teasingly. +</P> + +<P> +"Then say it," he commanded with mock fierceness. "Say it this minute, +or I'll—" +</P> + +<P> +But her soft palm was against his lips, cutting short his threat. +</P> + +<P> +"It is—Kyrle," she said demurely. +</P> + +<P> +"Aye, so it is, and I never thought it could sound so sweet. Now say +the rest of it—there's a good child. Ah, little one," he exclaimed +with sudden passion, "I can scarcely yet believe all this is true. Lay +all doubt at rest forever by telling me you love me!" +</P> + +<P> +The laughter was gone from her eyes, and a solemn light came into them. +</P> + +<P> +"Kyrle Southorn, I love you—I do love you!" +</P> + +<P> +They now heard voices and steps outside the door, and Dorothy sprang to +her feet, while Captain Southorn arose hastily from the chair and set +it back in place. +</P> + +<P> +It was John Devereux who entered, followed by a soldier. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, good people," he said cheerily, giving the young Britisher a +glance of swift scrutiny, and then looking smilingly at Dorothy, "there +is a supper waiting for this small sister of mine; and, Dot, you must +come with me—and that speedily, as I am famishing." +</P> + +<P> +He advanced and drew her hand within his arm; then turning with more +dignity of manner to the Englishman, he added, "After we have supped, +Captain Southorn, I will look for you in your room, as General +Washington will then be ready to receive us." +</P> + +<P> +Southorn bowed gravely. Then, with a sudden boyish impulsiveness, he +extended his hand. +</P> + +<P> +"May I not first hear from your own lips," he asked earnestly, "that +you wish me well?" +</P> + +<P> +Jack clasped the hand as frankly as it had been offered, and Dorothy's +heart beat happily, as she saw the two dearest on earth to her looking +with friendly eyes upon one another. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap33"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XXXIII +</H3> + +<P> +An hour later the three stood before the door of Washington's private +office; and in response to John Devereux's knock, the voice that was +now so familiar to Dorothy bade them enter. +</P> + +<P> +As they came into the room, Washington advanced toward Dorothy with his +hand held out in greeting, and his eyes were filled with kindness as +they looked into the charming face regarding him half fearfully. +</P> + +<P> +"Welcome," he said,—"welcome, little Mistress Southorn." +</P> + +<P> +At the sound of that name, heard now for the first time, a rush of +color suffused Dorothy's cheeks, while the two younger men smiled, +albeit each with a different meaning. +</P> + +<P> +The one was triumphantly happy, but Jack's smile was touched with +bitterness, and a sudden contraction, almost painful, caught his throat +for a second. +</P> + +<P> +"I trust that my orders were properly carried out for your comfort," +continued Washington, still addressing Dorothy, as he motioned them all +to be seated. +</P> + +<P> +She courtesied, and managed to make a fitting reply. But she felt +quite uncomfortable, and somewhat alarmed, to find her small self an +object of so much consideration. +</P> + +<P> +The Commander-in-Chief now seated himself, and turned a graver face to +the young Englishman. +</P> + +<P> +"May I ask, Captain Southorn, if the plans of which you told Lieutenant +Devereux and myself are to be carried out?" +</P> + +<P> +The young man bowed respectfully. +</P> + +<P> +"I am most happy, sir, to assure you that they are, and at the +speediest possible moment after I return to Boston." +</P> + +<P> +Washington was silent a moment, and his eyes turned to Lieutenant +Devereux, who, seemingly regardless of all else, was watching his +sister. +</P> + +<P> +"And you, Lieutenant, do you give your consent to all this?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, sir." But the young man sighed. +</P> + +<P> +"And now, little Mistress Southorn," Washington said, smiling once +more, "tell me, have you consented to leave America and go with your +husband?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, sir," she replied almost sadly, and stealing a look at her +brother's downcast face. +</P> + +<P> +"It would seem, then, that the matter is settled as it should be, and +to the satisfaction of all parties," Washington said heartily. "And I +wish God's blessing upon both of you young people, and shall hope, +Mistress Dorothy, that your heart will not be entirely weaned from your +own land." +</P> + +<P> +"That can never be, sir," she exclaimed with sudden spirit, and +glancing almost defiantly at her husband, who only smiled in return. +</P> + +<P> +"Aye, child—so? I am truly glad to hear it." Then rising from his +chair, he said: "And now I must ask you to excuse me, as I have matters +of importance awaiting my attention, and regret greatly that I cannot +spare more time thus pleasantly. You will escort your sister back to +Dorchester in the morning, Lieutenant?" +</P> + +<P> +"Aye, sir, with your permission." +</P> + +<P> +"You have it; and you had better take the same number of men you had +yesterday. Return as speedily as possible, as there are signs of—" +</P> + +<P> +He checked himself abruptly, but swept away any suggestion of +discourtesy by saying, as he held out his hand to the young Englishman, +"I'll bid you good-night, Captain Southorn; you see that it is natural +now to think of you as a friend." +</P> + +<P> +"It is an honor to me, sir, to hear you say as much," the other +replied, as he took the extended hand and bowed low over it. "And I +beg to thank you for all your kindness to me and to—my wife." +</P> + +<P> +Dorothy now courtesied to Washington, and was about to leave the room, +when he stretched out a detaining hand. +</P> + +<P> +"Stay a moment, child. I am not likely to see you again before you +depart, and therefore it is good-by as well as good-night. You will +see that I have endeavored to do what was best for you, although I must +admit"—and he glanced smilingly at Jack—"it was no great task for me +to bring your brother to see matters as I did. And now may God bless +you, and keep your heart the brave, true one I shall always remember." +</P> + +<P> +She was unable to speak, and could only lift her eyes to the face of +this great man, who, notwithstanding the weight of anxiety and +responsibility pressing upon him, had been the one to smooth away the +troubles which had threatened to mar her young life, and who had now +brought about the desire of her heart. +</P> + +<P> +But his kindly look at length gave her courage, and she managed to say, +although chokingly, "I can never find words in which to thank you, sir." +</P> + +<P> +He bowed as the three left the room, and no word was spoken while they +took their way down the hall to Dorothy's apartment. +</P> + +<P> +Jack opened the door and motioned the others to enter. +</P> + +<P> +"I must leave you now," he said, "and go to see Hugh Knollys. He is +not feeling just right to-night." +</P> + +<P> +"Why, is he ill? I wondered that he was not at supper with us." +Dorothy spoke quickly, her voice trembled, and her brother saw that she +was weeping. +</P> + +<P> +He followed them into the room and closed the door. Then he turned to +Dot, and taking her by the hand, asked tenderly, "What is troubling +you, my dear child?" +</P> + +<P> +She gave a great sob and threw herself upon his breast. +</P> + +<P> +"'T is because of what he just said—as we left him. It made me +realize that I am soon to go away across the sea from you—from all of +you," she exclaimed passionately. "Oh—how can I bear it!" +</P> + +<P> +"'T is somewhat late, little sister, to think of that," her brother +replied, caressing her curly head with the loving touch she had known +ever since the childhood days. Then bending his lips close to her ear, +he whispered, "See—you are making him unhappy." +</P> + +<P> +At this she glanced over her shoulder at her husband, who had walked to +the hearth, and stood looking into the fire. +</P> + +<P> +"Come, little girl, cheer up," said Jack, "for to-night, at least. You +are to have a little visit with him before he returns to his quarters. +And before to-morrow noon he will be on the road to Boston." +</P> + +<P> +With a long, sobbing sigh, she released him; then, as she wiped the +tears from her eyes, she said with a wan smile, "It is hard—cruelly +hard, to have one's heart so torn in opposite ways." +</P> + +<P> +He knew her meaning, and thought, as he went away, how small was their +own grief compared with that of poor Hugh, who, utterly unmanned, had +immured himself in his quarters. +</P> + +<P> +Dorothy stole to the hearth, where stood the silent figure of her +husband; and as he still did not speak, she ventured to reach out and +steal a timid hand within the one hanging by his side. +</P> + +<P> +His fingers instantly prisoned it in a close clasp, and so they +remained for a time looking silently into the fire. Presently he +sighed, and drawing the chain and ruby ring from his pocket, said very +gently, "Will you wear this ring, sweetheart, until such time as I can +get one more suitable?" +</P> + +<P> +"Aye—but I'd sooner not wear any other," she replied, looking +wistfully at him,—awed and troubled by this new manner of his. +</P> + +<P> +"Would you?" And he smiled as he fastened the chain about her neck. +"Then I shall be obliged to have the half of it taken away, in order to +make a proper fit for that small finger. But you must let me put on a +plain gold band, as well, so that all may be in proper form." +</P> + +<P> +She caught his hand and laid it against her cheek, while the light of +the burning wood caught in the ruby ring, making it gleam like a +ruddier fire against the folds of her dark-green habit. +</P> + +<P> +"Why are you so unhappy?" she asked. +</P> + +<P> +"That I am not, sweet little wife," he answered, drawing her to him, +"save when I see you unhappy." +</P> + +<P> +"But I am not unhappy," she protested, adding brokenly, "except +that—that—" +</P> + +<P> +"Except that you cherish a warm love for kindred and home, and one it +would be most unnatural for you to be lacking," he interrupted. "But +never fear, little one,"—and he stroked her hair much as her brother +had done—"you will not be unhappy with me, if you love me; and that +you say you do, and so I know it for a truth—thank God. This war +cannot last very long, and I've lost all heart to care whether King or +colony win. To tell the truth,"—and he laughed as he bent over to +kiss her—"I fear my heart has turned traitor enough to love best the +cause of her I love. So it is as well that I send in my resignation, +which is certain to be accepted; and we'll go straight to my dear old +home among the Devonshire hills, and be happily out of the way of the +strife. And when it is over, we can often cross the sea to your own +home, and perhaps your brother and his wife—if I can ever make my +peace with her—will also come to us. And so, sweetheart, you see the +parting is not forever—nor for very long." +</P> + +<P> +Thus he went on soothing and cheering her as he seated himself again in +the big chair by the hearth and drew her to his knee. Presently, and +as if to divert her thoughts, he said: "Come—tell me something of your +family. I have seen them all, as you know, but there are two of its +members with whom I never had speech." +</P> + +<P> +Dorothy puckered her brows and looked at him questioningly. +</P> + +<P> +"They are wide apart as to age," he added, smiling at her +perplexity,—"for one of them is a sweet-faced old lady, and the other +is a lovely little girl with long yellow locks and wonderful blue eyes. +She was with you that eventful day at the cave." And he laughed softly +at the thought of what that day had brought about. +</P> + +<P> +"Why, the old lady was Aunt Lettice, and the little girl is her +granddaughter—'Bitha Hollis, my cousin." +</P> + +<P> +"She looks a winsome little thing—this 'Bitha," he said, happy to see +the brightness come to Dorothy's face. +</P> + +<P> +She was smiling, for the names had brought visions of her dear old +home, and she seemed to see all the loving faces in the fire before her. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes—and she is a dear child, and full of the oddest fancies." And +now Dorothy laughed outright as some of 'Bitha's queer sayings came to +her. +</P> + +<P> +She went on to tell her husband of these; and when Jack returned half +an hour later to escort Captain Southorn to his room, he found the two +of them laughing happily together. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap34"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XXXIV +</H3> + +<P> +The next morning—although at rather a late hour for her—Dorothy +arose, feeling greatly refreshed by her sound and dreamless sleep. +</P> + +<P> +While she was yet dressing, her brother rapped on the door, and told +her she was to go to the little room near by, where supper had been +served the night before, and that Dolly—the sutler's wife—would have +breakfast ready for her. +</P> + +<P> +An hour later, as she stood at the open window of her room, drinking in +the fresh morning air, still bearing the odor of fallen leaves wetted +by the night damps, she saw her brother, with Captain Southorn and +several other men, chatting together a short distance away. +</P> + +<P> +Jack was the first to turn his eyes in her direction, and seeing her, +he smiled and waved his hand, at which Captain Southorn turned about +and hurried toward her. +</P> + +<P> +He was soon standing under the window, and reaching up took possession +of one of the small hands resting upon the sill. +</P> + +<P> +For an instant neither of them spoke, but Dorothy's dark eyes smiled +shyly into the blue ones uplifted to her face. +</P> + +<P> +"And it is really true," he said at last, with an air of conviction. +"Do you know, little one, that when I awakened this morning, I was +fearful at first that I 'd been dreaming it all. But knowing now what +I do, how can I have the heart to go away and leave you again? Cannot +you come to Boston with me now—this very day?" +</P> + +<P> +She shook her head. "No, no,—I must not do that. I must go back to +Dorchester, to see Mary and Mistress Knollys once more. And, +too"—with a blush—"I could not go without any raiment besides this." +And she touched the folds of her riding-habit. +</P> + +<P> +He stood a minute as if thinking, and then asked if she would come out +for a short walk. +</P> + +<P> +"Most assuredly," was her smiling response; and turning from the +window, she was not long in putting on her hat. +</P> + +<P> +As she was about leaving the room, she noticed her riding-whip lying on +the table where she had tossed it upon her arrival the previous +evening. It was a gift from her father, and one she prized very +highly; and fearing that the sight of it might excite the cupidity of +some of the servants, she picked it up, and then passed quickly out to +the porch. +</P> + +<P> +Here she encountered several of the officers whom she had seen talking +with her brother a short time before. They now drew aside to let her +go by, which she did hurriedly, her eyes lowered under the shadowy +plumes of her riding-hat, and oblivious of the admiring glances they +stole at her. +</P> + +<P> +Many of the inmates of Washington's headquarters had become acquainted +with her little romance; and so, unknown to herself, she was an object +of much interest. It was for this reason also, as well as on account +of the responsibility assumed with regard to him by Washington himself, +that the English captain was occupying a somewhat unusual position +amongst the American officers. +</P> + +<P> +Finding her brother and husband together, the two coming to meet her at +the porch, Dorothy asked after Hugh, and was told by Jack that he had +gone with a message to some of the outposts, but would return shortly. +</P> + +<P> +"And is he well this morning, Jack?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, yes," her brother answered lightly. "You will not go far away, of +course," he added, "nor stay long, else I shall have to come or send +for you." +</P> + +<P> +"Only a short distance;" and Captain Southorn motioned to the wood that +lay not far from the rear of the house. +</P> + +<P> +"Who is this Hugh?" he inquired, as they walked slowly along, the dry +leaves crackling under their feet. "Is he the sergeant, Hugh Knollys, +who went with your brother yesterday?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes;" and something in his tone impelled her to add, "and I've known +him all my life." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, yes," he said, knitting his brows a little, as he kicked the +leaves before him, "I remember right well. It was he I used to see +riding about the country with you so much last summer." +</P> + +<P> +"He is like my own brother," she explained quickly, not feeling quite +comfortable in something she detected in his manner of speech. +</P> + +<P> +"Is he?" now looking at her smilingly. "And does he regard you in the +same fraternal fashion?" +</P> + +<P> +"Why, of course," she answered frankly. "Hugh and I have always known +one another; we have gone riding and boating together for years, have +quarrelled and made up, just as Jack and I have done. Only," and now +she spoke musingly, "I cannot remember that Jack ever quarrelled much +with me." +</P> + +<P> +"No, I should say not, from what I've seen of him," her husband said +heartily. +</P> + +<P> +By this time they were in the seclusion of the wood; and now his arms +went about her and held her fast. +</P> + +<P> +"Sweetheart, tell me once more that you love me," he said. "I only +brought you here to have you tell it to me again, and in broad +daylight." +</P> + +<P> +She rested her head on his arm and smiled up into his face. +</P> + +<P> +"How many times must I tell you?" +</P> + +<P> +"With each sweet breath you draw, if you tell me as many times as I +would wish to hear. But this is certain to be the last moment I shall +have to see you alone, as you are to start for Dorchester, and I for +Boston. And you will surely—surely join me there as soon as I send +you word?" He spoke eagerly, and as if fearful that something might +arise to make her change her mind. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, to be sure I will,—have I not promised?" +</P> + +<P> +"That you have, God bless you. And you will let no one turn you from +that, little one?" +</P> + +<P> +"Why, who should?" She opened her eyes in surprise, and then there +came a flash to them. "No, no, even if every one was to try, they +could not do it now. What is that?" +</P> + +<P> +She started nervously, and turned her head quickly about, as they both +heard a rustling in the bushes. +</P> + +<P> +"It is only a rabbit or squirrel," her husband said, "or perhaps a—" +</P> + +<P> +There was the sharp report of a gun close by, and a bullet grazed his +shoulder and struck the tree-trunk directly over Dorothy's head. The +next instant there came the sound of trampling and fierce struggling; +and a voice Dorothy knew at once, cried, "You sneaking dastard, what +murder is it you 're up to?" +</P> + +<P> +"Stop here, little one," said Captain Southorn, calmly, "just a second, +until I see what all this means." And he plunged into the tangled +thicket beside the path in which they had been standing. +</P> + +<P> +But Dorothy followed him closely; and a few yards away they came upon +Hugh Knollys, towering angrily over a man lying prostrate on the +ground, and whom Dorothy recognized instantly as the rude fellow who +had so alarmed her at the inn. +</P> + +<P> +At sight of the two figures breaking through the underbrush, Hugh +started in surprise, and a look which Dorothy found it hard to +understand showed in his face. +</P> + +<P> +"What is it—what is the matter?" Captain Southorn demanded angrily, +stepping toward the two other men. +</P> + +<P> +Hugh did not reply, and now they heard rapid footsteps approaching. +</P> + +<P> +"Here, this way,—come here!" shouted Hugh, who did not appear to have +heard the young Englishman's question. +</P> + +<P> +Farmer Gilbert had arisen slowly to his feet, and did not attempt to +escape from the grasp Hugh still kept upon his arm. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, Hugh—what is it?" asked Dorothy, looking with frightened eyes at +his prisoner. +</P> + +<P> +"Never mind now, Dot," he answered hastily, but his voice softening. +"How came you here? You should not—" Then, with a half-sulky glance +as of apology to the young Englishman, he bit his lip and was silent. +</P> + +<P> +"We were standing in the path just now," said Captain Southorn, "when a +bullet came so close to us as to do this;" and he touched the torn +cloth on his shoulder. +</P> + +<P> +Hugh started. "Then it must have been you he was shooting at!" he +exclaimed, glancing angrily at the prisoner. +</P> + +<P> +"The bullet went just over my head and into a tree," said Dorothy, +continuing her husband's explanation. +</P> + +<P> +"Over your head, Dot!" cried Hugh. "So close to you as that!" And a +terrible look came to his face,—one that revealed his secret to the +purple-blue eyes watching him so keenly. "Oh—my God!" +</P> + +<P> +The appearance of several men—soldiers—cut the words short, and +restored Hugh's calmness, for, turning to them, he bade them take the +man and guard him carefully. +</P> + +<P> +"And I'll take this gun of yours," he said to him, "and see to it that +you get the treatment you deserve for such a cowardly bit of work." +</P> + +<P> +"Wait a bit, till I answers him," said Farmer Gilbert, now speaking for +the first time, as he turned to face Hugh, and holding back, so as to +arrest the steps of the men who were dragging him away. "I want to +say, young sir, that if ye had n't sneaked up on me from aback, an' +knocked my gun up, I'd hev done what I've been dodgin' 'round to do +these five days past—an' that were to put a bullet through the head or +d——d trait'rous heart o' that British spy in petticoats." +</P> + +<P> +His face was ablaze with passion, and he shook his clenched fist at +Dorothy, who stood looking at him as though he were a wild beast caught +in the toiler's net. +</P> + +<P> +Captain Southorn started forward; but Hugh motioned him back. Then +realizing the full sense of the fellow's words, he sprang upon him with +an oath such as no one had ever heard issue from his lips. +</P> + +<P> +Falling upon the defenceless man, he shook him fiercely. Then he +seemed to struggle for a proper control of himself, and asked +chokingly, "Do you mean to tell me that it was her you were aiming at +when I caught you?" +</P> + +<P> +He pointed to Dorothy, who was now clinging to her husband; and even in +that moment Hugh saw his arm steal about her protectingly. +</P> + +<P> +He turned his eyes away, albeit the sight helped to calm his rage, as +the bitter meaning of it swept over him. +</P> + +<P> +"Aye—it was," the man answered doggedly, nodding his bushy head; "an' +ye may roll me o'er the ground again, like a log that has no feelin', +an' send me to prison atop it all, for tryin' to do my country a +sarvice by riddin' it of a spy." +</P> + +<P> +The soldiers who were holding him looked significantly at each other +and then at Dorothy, who was still standing within the protecting arm +of the man they knew to be an English officer, and a prisoner who had +been captured, alone and at night, close to the spot where the +Commander-in-Chief was engaged in a conference with some of his +subordinates. +</P> + +<P> +Despite the fright to which she had been subjected, the girl was quick +to see all this, and the suspicion to which it pointed. And she now +astonished them all by leaving her husband's side, to advance rapidly +until she stood facing the soldiers and their prisoner, who cowered +away as he saw the flash of her eyes, and her small figure drawn to its +utmost height. +</P> + +<P> +"Do you dare say to my face that I am a British spy—I, Dorothy +Devereux, of Marblehead, whose only brother is an officer in Glover's +regiment? You lying scoundrel—take that!" And raising her +riding-whip, she cut him sharply across the face, the thin lash causing +a crimson welt to show upon its already florid hue. "And that," giving +him another cut. "And do you go to General Washington, and tell him +your wicked story, and I doubt not he'll endorse the writing of the +opinion I've put upon your cowardly face for saying such evil +falsehoods of me!" +</P> + +<P> +"Dot—Dorothy—whatever does this mean?" It was the voice of her +brother, as he dashed to her side and caught her arm, now lifted for +another blow. +</P> + +<P> +She shivered, and the whip fell to the ground, while Hugh ordered the +men to take their prisoner away. +</P> + +<P> +They obeyed, grinning shyly at each other, and now feeling assured that +no British spy was amongst them. +</P> + +<P> +Captain Southorn had stood motionless, looking at Dorothy in +unconcealed amazement. But her quick punishment of the fellow's insult +seemed to have a good effect upon Hugh Knollys, for his face now showed +much of its sunny good-nature. +</P> + +<P> +The sight of what she had done, no less than the sound of her voice, +had brought back the impetuous, wilful Dot of bygone days; and he found +himself thinking again of the little maid whose ears he boxed because +of the spilled bullets, years ago. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap35"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XXXV +</H3> + +<P> +"Dorothy, speak,—what is it?" her brother demanded. "Hugh?" and he +turned questioningly, as Dorothy threw herself into his arms. +</P> + +<P> +"He called me a British spy," she sobbed, "and tried to shoot me!" +</P> + +<P> +He held her closer, while he listened to Hugh and Captain Southorn as +they told him of all that had passed. +</P> + +<P> +It appeared that Hugh, returning through the woods from his mission to +the outposts, had found a horse tied not far away from where they were +now standing. This struck him as something unusual; and looking about, +he noticed that the bushes were trampled and broken in a direction +which seemed to lead toward Washington's headquarters. +</P> + +<P> +Suspecting a possible spy, he had cautiously followed the plainly +marked way, and soon caught sight of a man dodging about, as if not +wishing to be seen, and so intent upon watching something in front of +him as to be quite unconscious of Hugh's approach. +</P> + +<P> +Stealing as close as possible, Hugh stood silent, now aware that the +man's attention was centred upon the regular pathway through the wood. +</P> + +<P> +Presently he saw him raise his gun, and feared it might be Washington +himself at whom he was aiming; for he knew the Commander-in-Chief was +to be abroad that morning, and he made no doubt that this was some +emissary of the enemy bent upon murdering him. +</P> + +<P> +Thinking only of this, Hugh had thrown himself upon the man, but too +late to prevent the discharge of the gun, although he succeeded in +diverting its aim. +</P> + +<P> +"And saved her life!" exclaimed Captain Southorn and John Devereux +together. +</P> + +<P> +Hugh uttered no word until Dorothy turned to him suddenly and took his +hand, while she looked up at him in a way that needed no speech. +</P> + +<P> +"Never mind, Dot," he said huskily. "You gave him a fine lesson, just +such as he deserved, and it does me good to think of it. Only, I'd +like to have done it myself." +</P> + +<P> +She blushed, and dropped his hand, stealing a sidewise glance at her +husband, who was looking at Hugh and herself. +</P> + +<P> +Jack was now about to speak; but Hugh started quickly, exclaiming, +"This will never do; I am forgetting my duty, and must hurry on and +make my report." +</P> + +<P> +"One second, Hugh," said Jack; "I have something to say to you." +</P> + +<P> +They walked along together, conversing in low tones, while Dorothy, +with a nervous little laugh, said to her husband, "Are you afraid of +me, now that you see the temper I possess?" +</P> + +<P> +"Nay, little one," he answered, drawing closer to her and taking her +hand. "You did nothing more than the circumstances richly provoked. +And," with a teasing laugh, "I do not forget a certain day, in another +wood, when my own cheek felt the weight of this same dainty hand's +displeasure." +</P> + +<P> +She looked a bit uncomfortable, and he hastened to add, "And I felt +afterward that I, too, received but my just deserts for my presumption." +</P> + +<P> +"I always wondered," she said, now smilingly, "what you could think of +a young lady who would rig herself up in her brother's raiment, to roam +about at night; and who would so far forget herself as to slap a +gentleman in the face,—and one of His Majesty's officers at that." +</P> + +<P> +He laughed. "Then you must know, sweet wife," he answered, as she +stood looking down, stirring the leaves with her boot tip, "that I only +loved you the better, if possible, for it all. It showed you to +possess a brave heart and daring spirit, such as are ever the most +loyal to the man a true woman loves. But for all those same acts of +yours, I'd not have dared to do as I did; but I felt that no other +course would lead you to follow the feeling I was sure I read in your +eyes." +</P> + +<P> +John Devereux, who had gone out to the roadway with Hugh, now called to +them. +</P> + +<P> +"Come, both of you," he said; "it is time to be off." +</P> + +<P> +"This must be our real good-by, little one." Captain Southorn glanced +about them, and then put his arm around Dorothy. "We shall both be +leaving shortly, and I cannot say good-by properly with a lot of other +folk about. Ah," with a shudder, and holding her up to his breast, +"when I think of what might have happened, had not your friend Hugh +come upon the scene, it makes it all the harder for me to let you go +again." +</P> + +<P> +"But there is no danger now," she said courageously; "the man is a +prisoner. But whatever could have put such a crazy idea into his +head?" she asked indignantly. +</P> + +<P> +"Did you never see him before?" her husband inquired. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, at the Gray Horse Inn;" but her brother's voice, now calling +rather impatiently, cut short her story. +</P> + +<P> +"And will you come when I send word?" Captain Southorn asked. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," she whispered. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, thank God it will be but a few days until then," he said, giving +her a parting kiss. "So for now, my wife,—my own little wife, adieu!" +</P> + +<P> +As they were taking their way to the house, Jack looked at his watch +and scowled a little as he saw the lateness of the hour. Then he +turned to Dorothy, and inquired, as her husband had done, in regard to +her knowledge of Farmer Gilbert. +</P> + +<P> +She told of all that Mary and herself had seen of him at the inn; and +her brother's quick perceptions put the facts together while he +listened. +</P> + +<P> +They found gathered before the house an unusual number of men, in +animated conversation; but as the three figures approached, they all +became silent, glancing at the new-comers in a way to indicate that the +recent occurrence had formed the subject of their discussion. +</P> + +<P> +Some of them now strolled away, while those who remained—all of them +connected with the headquarters—drew aside to let Lieutenant Devereux +and his companions pass. +</P> + +<P> +"Do you know if Sergeant Knollys is within, Harris?" Jack inquired, +addressing one of them. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, I am quite sure you will find him inside." +</P> + +<P> +Turning to another of the men, Jack bade him have the horses brought at +once, and order the escort to be ready for immediate departure. +</P> + +<P> +"We shall have to hasten, Dot," he said hurriedly, as they went along +the hall. "And," addressing her husband, "Captain Southorn, I must now +turn you over to Captain Ireson." +</P> + +<P> +"Then I am not like to see you again," said the young Englishman, as he +extended his hand. +</P> + +<P> +"No, I should have gone to Boston with you, to escort Captain Pickett +on his return, but I have orders to see my small sister safely to the +house and care of our neighbor, Mistress Knollys." +</P> + +<P> +"And when are we to meet again?" +</P> + +<P> +He spoke earnestly, almost with emotion, for he had come to have a +strong affection for this handsome, high-spirited young Colonist, whose +face and manner so resembled Dorothy's. +</P> + +<P> +"Who can say?" asked Jack, sadly, as the two stood with clasped hands, +looking fixedly at one another. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, God grant that it be before long, and when our countries are at +peace," exclaimed Southorn. +</P> + +<P> +"Amen to that," answered Jack. "And," in a voice that trembled, "you +will always be good to—" The sentence was left unfinished, while his +arm stole about his sister's shoulders. +</P> + +<P> +"As God is my witness,—always," was the solemn reply. +</P> + +<P> +"And now, Dot," said her brother, with a contented sigh, and speaking +in a more cheerful tone, as if now throwing off all his misgivings, +"you must bid Captain Southorn farewell for a few days, and we will get +under way. But first I have to go with him and report to Captain +Ireson." +</P> + +<P> +She held out both hands to her husband, who bent over and pressed them +to his lips. +</P> + +<P> +"You will surely come when I send?" he asked softly. +</P> + +<P> +She nodded, looking up at him through her tears. +</P> + +<P> +In half an hour the party of soldiers, with Dorothy and her brother, +took the way to Dorchester, Hugh appearing at the last moment to say +farewell, as his duty called him in another direction. And it was not +long before a smaller party, bearing a flag of truce, set out with +Captain Southorn, to effect his exchange for Captain Pickett. +</P> + +<P> +The following day Farmer Gilbert was brought before General Washington, +who listened gravely to his attempted justification. Then, after a +stern rebuke, so lucid and emphatic as to enlighten the man's dull +wits, now made somewhat clearer by his confinement and enforced +abstinence, he was permitted to go his way. +</P> + +<P> +A week after this, little Mistress Southorn was escorted to the British +lines and handed over to her waiting husband; and a few days later, a +transport sailed, taking back to England some disabled officers and +soldiers, as well as a small number of royalists, who were forced to +leave the country for the one whose cause they espoused too openly. +</P> + +<P> +Dorothy was standing by the ship's rail, alone, her husband having left +her for a few minutes. She was busy watching the stir and bustle of +departure, when she recognized, in a seeming farmer who had come aboard +with poultry, the pedler, Johnnie Strings. +</P> + +<P> +The sight of his shrewd face and keen little eyes brought to her +mingled feelings of pleasure and alarm, and, wondering what his mission +could be, she hurried toward him. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, Johnnie, is it safe for you to be here?" she exclaimed, as she +grasped his hand. +</P> + +<P> +"Sh-h, sweet mistress!" he said cautiously. "I won't be safe if ye +sing out in such fashion. Jest ye get that scared look off yer face, +while we talk nat'ral like, for the sake o' them as stands 'round. Ye +see I was the only one that could risk comin', an' I'm to carry back +the last news o' ye. But oh, Mistress Dorothy," and his voice took a +note of expostulation, "however had ye the heart to do it? But o' +course we all know 't was not really yer own doin', arter all. I tell +ye, mistress, that mornin' at the Sachem's Cave saw the beginnin' of a +sight o' mischief." +</P> + +<P> +She passed this by without comment, smiling at him kindly while she +gave him many parting messages for those at Dorchester, and for Aunt +Lettice and little 'Bitha, and all at the old house. +</P> + +<P> +The pedler promised to deliver them, and then looking into her face, he +sighed mournfully. +</P> + +<P> +"Aye, but 't is thankful I am, mistress, that yer old father ne'er +lived to see this day." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, Johnnie, don't say that—how can you?" she cried impulsively. +</P> + +<P> +He saw the pained expression his words had brought, and added hastily, +as he drew the back of his hand across his eyes, "There, there, sweet +mistress, don't take my foolish words to heart, for my own is so sore +this day over all that's come to pass, an' that ye should be goin' away +like this, that I scarce know jest what I be sayin'." +</P> + +<P> +Before Dorothy could reply, she saw her husband approaching; and +Johnnie, seeing him as well, turned to go. +</P> + +<P> +"Won't you wait and speak to him?" she asked, a little shyly. +</P> + +<P> +"No, no, Mistress Dorothy," was his emphatic answer,—"don't ye ask +that o' me. I could n't stummick it—not I. God keep ye, sweet +mistress, an' bring ye back to this land some day, when we 've driven +out all the d——d redcoats." +</P> + +<P> +With this characteristic blessing, the pedler hastened away, and was +soon lost to sight amongst the barrels and casks piled about the wharf. +</P> + +<P> +A few hours later, Dorothy stood with her husband's arm about her, +watching through gathering tears the land draw away,—watching it grow +dim and shadowy, to fade at last from sight, while all about them lay +the purple sea, sparkling under the rays of the late afternoon sun. +</P> + +<P> +Her eyes lingered longest upon the spot in the hazy distance near where +she knew lay the beloved old home. +</P> + +<P> +"How far—how far away it is now," she murmured. +</P> + +<P> +"What, little one?" her husband asked softly. +</P> + +<P> +"I was thinking of my old home," she answered, surprised to have spoken +her thought aloud. "And," looking about with a shiver, "it seems so +far—so lonely all about us here." +</P> + +<P> +"Are you frightened or unhappy?" he asked, drawing her still closer to +him. +</P> + +<P> +She looked up with brave, loyal eyes, and answered, as had her +ancestress, Anne Devereux, when she and her young husband were about to +seek a new home in a strange, far-off land,— +</P> + +<P> +"No—not so long as we be together." +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +Hugh Knollys fell—a Major in the Massachusetts line—during one of the +closing engagements of the war, and his mother did not long survive him. +</P> + +<P> +John Devereux passed through the conflict unharmed, and returned to the +farm, where he and Mary lived long and happily, with their children +growing up about them. +</P> + +<P> +They had each summer as their guests an Englishman and his wife—a +little, girl-like woman, whom every one adored—who crossed the sea to +pay them long visits. Sometimes the pleasant days found this +Englishman seated in the Sachem's Cave, his eyes wandering off over the +sea; and with him often would be Mary Broughton's eldest son, and +first-born—Jack, who had his Aunt Dorothy's curling locks and dark +eyes. +</P> + +<P> +The favorite story at such times, and one never tired of by either the +man or child, was that telling how in the great war his mother had +frightened a young English soldier so that he fell over the rocks, and +how, soon after this, a certain brave little maid had hurled the +burning lanterns from these same rocks, to save her brother and his +companions from danger. +</P> + +<P> +The youngster had first heard of all this from Johnnie Strings,—to the +day of his death a crippled pensioner on the Devereux farm—who never +seemed to realize that the war was over, and who had expressed marked +disapproval when 'Bitha, now tall and stately, had, following her +Cousin Dorothy's example, and quite regardless of her own long-ago +avowals, given her heart and hand to the nephew of this same British +soldier. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +With this must end my story of the old town. But there is another +story,—that of its fisher and sailor soldiers, and it is told in the +deeds they have wrought. +</P> + +<P> +These form a goodly part of the foundation upon which rests the mighty +fabric of our nation. Their story is one of true, brave hearts; and it +is told in a voice that will be heard until the earth itself shall have +passed away. +</P> + +<P> +It was the men of Marblehead who stepped forward that bitter winter's +night on the banks of the Delaware, when Washington and his little army +looked with dismayed eyes upon the powerful current sweeping before +them, and which must be crossed, despite the great masses of ice that +threatened destruction to whosoever should venture upon its roaring +flood. They were the men who responded to his demand when he turned +from the menacing dangers of the river and asked, "Who of you will lead +on, and put us upon the other side?" +</P> + +<P> +The monument that commemorates the success at Trenton is no less a +tribute to the unflinching courage and sturdiness of the fishermen of +Marblehead, who made that victory possible. +</P> + +<P> +And, as there, so stands their record during all the days of the +Revolutionary struggle. Wherever they were—on land or water—in the +attack they led, in the retreat they covered; and through all their +deeds shone the ardent patriotism, the calm bravery, the unflinching +devotion, that made them ever faithful in the performance of duty. +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 4em">"When anything is done,</SPAN><BR> +People see not the patient doing of it,<BR> +Nor think how great would be the loss to man<BR> +If it had not been done. As in a building<BR> +Stone rests on stone, and, wanting a foundation,<BR> +All would be wanting; so in human life,<BR> +Each action rests on the foregone event<BR> +That made it possible, but is forgotten,<BR> +And buried in the earth."<BR> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +When the dawn of peace came, nowhere was it hailed with more exultant +joy than in Marblehead. +</P> + +<P> +Nowhere in all the land had there been such sacrifices made as by the +people of this little town by the sea. Many of those who had been +wealthy were now reduced to poverty,—their commerce was ruined, their +blood had been poured out like water. +</P> + +<P> +But for all this there was no complaining by those who were left, no +upbraiding sorrow for those who would never return. There was only joy +that the struggle was ended, and independence achieved for themselves +and the nation they had helped to create. And down the long vista of +years between their day and our own, the hallowed memory of their +loyalty shines out as do the lights of the old town over the night sea, +whose waves sing for its heroes a fitting requiem. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<P CLASS="finis"> +THE END +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<HR> + +<BR><BR><BR> + + +<A NAME="chap36"></A> + +<H2 ALIGN="center"> +UP AND DOWN THE SANDS OF GOLD +</H2> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +<I>A PRESENT-DAY NOVEL</I> +</H4> + +<BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +BY MARY DEVEREUX +</H3> + +<P CLASS="noindent" ALIGN="center"> +Author of "From Kingdom to Colony" and "Lafitte of Louisiana." +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent" ALIGN="center"> +12mo. Decorated Cloth. $1.50. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +A love story, told with delicacy and grace.—<I>Brooklyn Times</I>. +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +Humor and pathos, love and adventure, abound throughout the work. +Spicy incidents are plentiful.—<I>Atlanta Constitution</I>. +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +Margaret Leslie is a heroine who deserves a place in Mr. Howells' +gallery of immortal heroines in fiction.—<I>Rochester Herald</I>. +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +Margaret Leslie's brave service in the battle with self is as +attractive as the patriotic deeds of Mary Devereux's former +heroine.—<I>New York Times Saturday Review</I>. +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +The story is one of sunshine and shade, of smiles and tears. The +author has created for us a little company of people whom we learn to +love, and from whom it is hard to part.—<I>Boston Transcript</I>. +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +The book is charmingly written, the style pure and strong, and the play +of native wit engaging.—<I>Outlook</I>, New York. +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +A genius for depicting character in a telling way, and in a style that +is charming as well as pungent, is one of Mary Devereux's strongest +points.—<I>Rocky Mountain News</I>, Denver. +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +It is a positive treat to read such a pure, sweet story,—a genuine +story of natural men and women in a seashore town in New +England.—<I>Buffalo Commercial</I>. +</P> + +<BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +LITTLE, BROWN, & CO., Publishers +<BR> +254 Washington Street, Boston, Massachusetts +</H3> + +<BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +NEW & POPULAR FICTION +</H3> + +<BR> + +<H4> +LAFITTE OF LOUISIANA +</H4> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +By MARY DEVEREUX. Illustrated by Harry C. Edwards. +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +12mo. 427 pages. $1.50. +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +The remarkable career of Jean Lafitte during the French Revolution and +the War of 1812, and the strange tie between this so-called "Pirate of +the Gulf" and Napoleon Bonaparte, is the basis of this absorbing and +virile story,—a novel of love and adventure written by a skilled hand. +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +This work is one of the most ambitious of its class, and it has in the +introduction of Napoleon as Lafitte's guardian angel a picturesque +feature which makes it of rather unusual interest.—<I>Philadelphia +Record</I>. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P CLASS="noindent" ALIGN="center"> +<I>By the Same Author</I> +</P> + +<H4> +FROM KINGDOM TO COLONY. Illustrated by Henry Sandham. 12mo. $1.50. +</H4> + +<H4> +UP AND DOWN THE SANDS OF GOLD. 12mo. $1.50. +</H4> + +<BR><BR> + +<H4> +THE GOD OF THINGS +</H4> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +By FLORENCE BROOKS WHITEHOUSE. Illustrated by the author. 12mo. 288 +pages. $1.50. +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +Of this novel of modern Egypt the <I>Philadelphia Telegraph</I> says: "It is +a tale of fresh, invigorating, unconventional love, without the usual +thrilling adventures. It is wholesome, although daring, and through +its pages there vibrates a living spirit such as is only found in a few +romances." +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +The <I>Boston Herald</I> says: "Engages the attention of the reader from the +skill shown in the handling of the subject,"—divorce. +</P> + +<BR> + +<H4> +THE GOLDEN WINDOWS +</H4> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +A Book of Fables for Old and Young. By LAURA E. RICHARDS, author of +"Captain January," "The Joyous Story of Toto," etc. With illustrations +and decorations by Arthur E. Becher and Julia Ward Richards. 12mo. +$1.50. +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +This charming book will be a source of delight to those who love the +best literature. The stories are so simple and graceful that they +suggest Tolstoi at his best, and the moral attached to each fascinating +tale is excellent. Mrs. Richards' charm of style pervades this unique +collection of stories. The book is handsomely embellished. +</P> + +<BR> + +<H4> +THE AWAKENING OF THE DUCHESS +</H4> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +By FRANCES CHARLES, author of "In the Country God Forgot," "The Siege +of Youth," etc. With illustrations in color by I. H. Caliga. 12mo. +$1.50. +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +Frances Charles, the author of "In the Country God Forgot," writes in +an entirely new vein in her latest book, the best that this talented +young author has written. It is a pretty and touching story of a +lonely little heiress, Roselle, who called her mother, a society +favorite, "the Duchess"; and the final awakening of a mother's love for +her own daughter. +</P> + +<BR> + +<H4> +THE COLONEL'S OPERA CLOAK +</H4> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +By CHRISTINE C. BRUSH. New Edition. Illustrated by E. W. Kemble. +12mo. $1.50. +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +This favorite story is now issued in a new and attractive form, with +artistic renderings of its principal characters and scenes by E. W. +Kemble, the celebrated artist of negro character. This bright, clever, +and entertaining book is a story with a very novel idea, that of making +the "Colonel's Opera Cloak" the hero. +</P> + +<BR> + +<H4> +A DAUGHTER OF THE RICH +</H4> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +By M. E. WALLER, author of "The Little Citizen." Illustrated. 12mo. +$1.50. +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +A delightful book, telling the story of a happy summer in the Green +Mountains of Vermont and a pleasant winter in New York. Two of the +characters are Hazel Clyde, the daughter of a New York millionaire, and +Rose Blossom, a Vermont girl. The book is replete with interesting +conversation and bright incident. +</P> + +<BR> + +<H4> +A ROSE OF NORMANDY +</H4> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +By WILLIAM R. A. WILSON. Illustrated by Ch. Grunwald. 12mo. $1.50. +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +No more entertaining character has stalked through the pages of any +recent novel than that of Henri de Tonti, gentleman, soldier, courtier, +gallant—the Intrepid hero of countless adventures, but withal the true +and constant man and lover.—<I>Baltimore American</I>. +</P> + +<BR> + +<H4> +LOVE THRIVES IN WAR +</H4> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +A Romance of the Frontier in 1812. By MARY CATHERINE CROWLEY, author +of "A Daughter of New France," etc. Illustrated. 12mo. $1.50. +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +To a fine historical background, rich with incident and romance, Miss +Crowley has added her own originality, her wonderful descriptive +powers, in short her gift of story-telling, and has obtained a +brilliant and entertaining result. The whole story is crowded with +exciting events, tender love scenes, and brilliant +description.—<I>Louisville Courier-Journal</I>. +</P> + +<BR> + +<H4> +A DETACHED PIRATE +</H4> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +By HELEN MILECETE. With illustrations in color by I. H. Caliga. 12mo. +$1.50. +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +There is the sparkle of champagne in Helen Milecete's latest book. Gay +Vandeleur is the pirate, detached by a divorce court, and her first +name is no misnomer—not a bit of it.—<I>Chicago Evening Post</I>. +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +One of the clever books of the season.—<I>Philadelphia North American</I>. +</P> + +<BR> + +<H4> +THE SHADOW OF THE CZAR +</H4> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +By JOHN R. CARLING. Illustrated. 12mo. $1.50. +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +A romance of the sturdy, wholesome sort, in which the action is never +allowed to drag.—<I>St. Louis Globe-Democrat</I>. +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +Excels in interest Anthony Hope's best efforts.—<I>Boston Herald</I>. +</P> + +<BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +LITTLE, BROWN, & COMPANY, <I>Publishers</I> +<BR> +254 WASHINGTON STREET BOSTON, MASSACHUSETTS +</H3> + +<BR><BR><BR><BR> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of From Kingdom to Colony, by Mary Devereux + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FROM KINGDOM TO COLONY *** + +***** This file should be named 34232-h.htm or 34232-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/4/2/3/34232/ + +Produced by Al Haines + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: From Kingdom to Colony + +Author: Mary Devereux + +Illustrator: Henry Sandham + +Release Date: November 7, 2010 [EBook #34232] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FROM KINGDOM TO COLONY *** + + + + +Produced by Al Haines + + + + + + + + + +[Illustration: Cover art] + + + + +[Frontispiece: Dorothy Devereux Southorn with George Washington] + + + + +FROM + +KINGDOM TO COLONY + + +BY + +MARY DEVEREUX + + + + +_ILLUSTRATED BY HENRY SANDHAM_ + + + + +BOSTON + +LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY + +1904 + + + + +_Copyright, 1899,_ + +BY LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY. + + +_All rights reserved._ + + + +PRESSWORK BY + +S. J. PARKHILL & CO., BOSTON, U. S. A. + + + + +TO + +MY FATHER + + + _OF WHOM IT IS INSCRIBED_ + + "EMINENT IN LIFE AND NOBLE IN HEART, LOVING + TO MEN AND LOYAL TO CHRIST, HE WAS A BLESSING + TO THE WORLD AND AN HONOR TO THE CHURCH" + + + + +From Kingdom to Colony + + +PROLOGUE + +When William, Duke of Normandy, invaded England in 1066, and achieved +for himself the title of "Conqueror," one of those who accompanied him +was Robert D'Evreux, younger son of Walter, Earl of Rosmar, feudal +owner and ruler of the town of his name in Normandy. + +After the battle of Hastings, in which William won so great a victory, +he, wishing to honor the memory of the noblemen and knights by whose +aid it had been accomplished, placed their names upon a roll which was +suspended in a stately pile, called "Battle Abbey," erected by him upon +the field of battle. + +In the several exemplifications of "Battle Abbey Roll," as it was +termed, the name of Robert D'Evreux is variously expressed as +"Daveros," "Deverous," "Conte Devreux," and "Counte Devereux." + + +It was the close of an early May day in 1639. Charles I. was reigning +monarch of England, and the Scotch Covenanters were disturbing his +kingdom's peace. + +Against these malcontents Charles had sent his army, and Robert +Devereux, only son of the beheaded favorite of Elizabeth, and now third +Earl of Essex, had been made Lieutenant-General, he having already, by +his resolution and activity no less than by his personal courage, done +good service to the King and won much honor for himself. + +On this May day, in Warwick, far from all scenes of war or rumors from +court, Bromwich Castle, the home of Sir Walter Devereux, +Baronet--cousin and present heir of the King's unmarried +Lieutenant-General--lifted its turrets, about whose clinging ivy the +late afternoon sunshine played golden and warm. + +It was a huge pile, massively irregular in architecture, and its thick +walls bore traces of those times when a Baron of England was a power in +the land,--monarch of his domain, and chief of his own people. + +A rugged old tower was its keep, flanked by four symmetrical turrets, +and crowned by a battlement overlooking the whole country around. +About these clung ivy in a thousand thick wreaths; and here and there, +where it was not, the centuries had woven a fantastic tracery of moss, +green as the ivy itself, and delicate as frost-work. + +What had been the moat was now but a pleasant grassy hollow, carpeted +thickly with golden cowslips and fragrant violets, their growing lipped +by a tiny stream of purest water. + +The castle was surrounded almost to its walls by the forest of ancient +oaks, spreading in all directions, and becoming denser and more wild as +it stretched miles away. And here were the deer, numerous and fat, +that well supplied the larder for Sir Walter's board, or cooled their +sides amid the rankly growing brake and ferns, where naught troubled +the intense silence of the dusky aisles save the whir of the pheasant, +or the foot of the hare, light as the leaf dropping from the green arch +overhead. + +Sir Walter was in the forest this day, and with him were his three +goodly sons, besides several retainers. The notes of the horn had come +faintly to the castle now and again, as they pursued the chase; and up +in her apartments Anne, the seventeen-year-old wife of Sir Walter's +youngest son, sat watching for a first glimpse of the returning +huntsmen. + +Upon her knees lay an open volume, bound in white vellum, and with +clasps of pearl. It was richly illuminated, every page presenting a +picture gorgeous with color, and it was a carefully narrated story of +travel and adventure in that far-away country across the ocean for +which she and her young husband were soon to set sail. + +She paused over one of the illustrations, and gazed at it long and +earnestly, while her agate-gray eyes grew wide, and became filled with +consternation. It was the picture of an Indian chief, in all the +formidable toggery of war dress and paint; and his fierceness of mien +brought to her young heart a hitherto unknown dread and terror. + +The golden of the sun was turning to rose, when a clatter of hoofs and +the sound of men's voices drew her eyes toward the courtyard below. + +Resting her dimpled arms upon the rough stone of the window-ledge, she +leaned over and smiled down into the upturned face of her +twenty-two-year-old husband, whose dark eyes sought her casement ere he +dismounted from his tired horse, which the esquire at its head had now +little need to hold. He waved his hand to her, while a bright smile +illumined his grave face, and she responded by blowing him a kiss from +the tips of her taper fingers. + +The old Baronet, who had been the first to dismount, looked up as well, +and shook his hunting spear at her. + +"Ah, rogue!" he called out. "Wait till I catch thee! With never a +kiss to spare thy old father!" + +Her fresh young laugh rang out gayly as she retorted, "But I have many +an one, if you choose, good sir, as surely you wot right well." + +"'T is a dear child,--a sweet lass, Jack," the old man said to his +youngest son as the two entered the castle side by side. "My heart +misgives me at thought of her going to the far-off heathen country, +amongst savages and wild beasts; for, alack, who can tell what may +befall there?" + +Behind them followed Leicester, Sir Walter's eldest son, and beside him +was young Will,--in his boyhood a page, and now the heir's special +esquire. Walter, the next son, came after them, and then the retainers. + +These latter bore the deer slain that afternoon,--a famous buck, with +great spreading antlers; and the hounds were close by, sniffing about +the carcass with repressed excitement. + +The three sons of Sir Walter Devereux were much alike in coloring and +stature, being tall and stalwart, with broad shoulders, deep chests, +and martial bearing. Their faces were dark, with regular features and +full rounded foreheads, and the narrow, strongly marked eyebrows arched +over unusually large dark eyes. + +But the eyes of these three young men were totally different in +expression. Those of Leicester were apt to glow with over-haughtiness; +for albeit proof was not lacking to show that he had done kind deeds +and was a loyal friend and subject as well as a valiant soldier, he was +feared, rather than liked, by his subordinates. + +Walter's eyes bespoke his true nature,--a rollicking one. Indeed an +enemy of "Wat" Devereux were a hard matter to find. + +But, favorite though he was, his younger brother, John, went far beyond +him in this respect. His was a quiet nature, much given to +contemplation; one that drew the best from all hearts about him. He +had been his mother's idol; and his face was the last her dying eyes +sought three years before, as he sat, pale and silent, by her bedside, +calmly and prayerfully awaiting her end. He it was to whom the old +Baronet always opened his heart, when the elder son's haughty reserve +perplexed or hurt him, or Walter's recklessness brought trouble. + +Up in the dusking turret room, on the cushions by the open casement, +John Devereux now sat, dressed for the evening meal. + +Putting his strong arm about Anne, he drew her head to his shoulder, +and laughed when she showed him the picture that had so affrighted her, +while she confided to him her fears lest some such demon should work +evil upon him in that strange land in which they were about to find a +new home. + +"Nay, sweetheart," he said earnestly, "never would I think to take thee +to such perils. There be few, if any, such Indians in the country +where we shall abide. These writings treat of long-ago days, when +goodly English hearts were few on that shore. 'T is changed now; and +albeit somewhat rougher than here in our father's castle, 't is every +whit as safe. And think, sweetheart," he added proudly, "we shall be +the head of our name in this new land,--the same as our brother +Leicester here, in old England." + +She clung to him silently, while he stroked her soft hair and bent his +handsome head to see her face, now smiling, and looking more reassured. + +"Art thou still fearful, little one?" he asked presently. + +She lifted her face to look into his eyes, and clasped her arms about +his neck. + +"Fearful?" she repeated. "Nay, not I, so long as thou art with me." + +He drew her head against his breast, and a brooding peace fell upon +them, broken only by the cawing of the rooks circling about the tower, +or the melancholy notes of the ringdoves ensconced amid the ivy on the +ancient turrets. + + +Across the broad Atlantic, on the rocky shore of Marblehead, the May +sun had been shining as golden and warm as in old England; and the new +home, although lacking the renown which age and legend had brought to +every stone of Bromwich Castle, was enveloped by the glory that comes +from the love of pure, brave hearts and God-fearing lives. + +Facing the open sea along a portion of the shore of what is now known +as Devereux and Clifton, lay the acres--forest and meadow land--of +which John Devereux was owner. The house--a low, rambling stone +building, of somewhat pretentious size for those days, and fitted with +stout oaken doors and shutters--stood in a small clearing. + +Only a few yards away were the sheds for cattle, placed thus near for +greater protection against thieving Indians, as well as the pilfering +pirates who at rare intervals swept along the coast and descended upon +the unwary settler, in quest of food or booty. + +The virgin forest rose all about, save to the southwest, where the +fields were planted to the extent of several acres; and beyond these +the forest came again, stretching away to the site of the present town +of Marblehead, more than a mile off. + +In front of the house was a small open space where the trees had been +cut away and the undergrowth removed, that a glimpse might be obtained +of the sea; and the land, sloping to the sands, ended in a noble sweep +of beach. + +A mile or more to the south and southwest, by Forest River, dwelt the +Indians, their wigwams not so many as a few years before; for want and +pestilence had sadly weakened the once proud Naumkegs. + +Their chief, the renowned Nanepashemet, was now dead; and the present +ruler, his widow, the "Squaw Sachem," was, like her tribe, too greatly +broken by the vicissitudes of fate to resist the encroachments of the +whites. And her only surviving son, Weenepauweekin, or, as the +settlers called him, "George," was either indifferent, or else too wise +to risk incurring further trouble for his tribe by assuming other than +an amicable attitude toward his white neighbors. + +And thus it was that between the settlers and the Naumkegs all was at +peace. + +The wife of Weenepauweekin, Ahawayet by name, was well known to Anne +Devereux and her husband; and both she and her daughter, a girl of +seventeen, were frequent visitors at the house of the "English Chief," +as John Devereux was called by the Indians. + +In her own gentle, coaxing way, Anne had undertaken to instruct +Ahawayet in the Christian faith, and hoped to impress also the wayward, +wild-eyed daughter, Joane, who would sometimes come from her dignified +playing with the children of the "English Chief" to crouch by her +mother, and listen to these teachings. + +When the news of Sir Walter's death had come across the sea, tears +gathered in Anne's eyes as she raised them to those of her sad-faced +husband. + +"I cannot but think," she said, "on Sir Walter's face, as we saw it +fade away while we stood on the ship's deck that morn, with the tears +streaming down his cheeks like I never saw them come from a man's eyes +before." + +"Aye," her husband added, "he was a dear, good father, and a friend as +well. God grant that we and them that come after us do naught to bring +reproach or sorrow to the name he hath worn, as have so many before +him, with pride, and right good dignity." + +The sun was sinking fast, and the odor of the forest growths was +beginning to mingle with the tang of the sea. + +The voices of men and women busy about the cattle and milking were +making a cheerful sound of life and bustle from the sheds and +outhouses; and on the low-roofed porch in front of the house door, +overhung with drooping vines, John Devereux's three sons, Humphrey, +John, and Robert, were busy at play. + +But they were not too busy to pause now and then to send searching +glances into the forest in quest of their father, whom they all united +in adoring as the wisest and greatest of created beings. + +Humphrey, the eldest, was looking forward proudly to his ninth +birthday, now almost at hand, when he was to have the promise fulfilled +of being permitted to go along with his father to hunt in the forest, +or out on the sea, to fish. + +Near them sat their mother, stouter and more matronly than the slender +Anne of ten years ago. The aforetime dainty hands were not guiltless +of toil stains, and the dark hair was now gathered beneath a snowy +mobcap, with only here and there a short, wayward curl stealing out to +trail across her brow or touch her pretty ears. + +A sudden shout from the boys announced their father's appearance, as he +came out of the woods and across the clearing, and with him Noah, the +darkey servant, well loaded with game. + +"Thou hast had a most successful hunt!" exclaimed Anne, smiling a +bright welcome into her husband's fond eyes, while the children's small +hands clung to him, and tiny brown fingers were poked into the mouths +of dead rabbits, or tweaked their whiskers to see if they were really +dead, or tried to pull open the beaks and eyes of slain birds. + +"Aye," was his laughing reply, as he gently freed himself from the +little clinging hands; "and I have found more in the forest than game +alone, in that I have a most ferocious appetite,--one I trust thou wilt +have a plenty to satisfy." + +"Give the game to David," said Anne, as a younger and smaller edition +of Noah approached, "and come thou within and see, for the supper hath +been ready this half hour." + +An hour later the children were all safely in Nodland, and husband and +wife were sitting either side the fireplace, where the burning wood was +pleasant to feel, for a chill had crept into the air. But the outer +door was open, and through it came the hoarse notes of the frogs down +in the swampy lands, mingled with the roar of the surf along the +near-by shore. + +They sat in silence, each content with the other's nearness, as they +watched the leaping flames, which made the only light in the room. And +this was reflected in a thousand scintillating sparks from the brass +fire-dogs that upheld the logs, and in the handles of the shovels and +tongs, scrubbed and polished with all the power of arm possessed by +Shubar, the Indian wife of old Noah. + +Suddenly a lithe, girlish form slipped through the half-open door, +coming with a tread as noiseless as the leaping shadows about the far +corners of the room, and Joane, the Squaw Sachem's granddaughter, +glided to the hearth and stood between John Devereux and his wife. + +So accustomed were they to such things that neither of them was +startled, but kindly bade her welcome. + +Crouching on the hearth, she turned her dusky face and glittering eyes +toward John Devereux, and said quietly and in a low voice, "Strange +boat--big boat in harbor, English Chief." + +He looked troubled, and Anne glanced at him apprehensively, while Joane +continued, now speaking more rapidly, "Gran'mudder sent me tell better +keep door shut--better get gun." + +"Thou dost mean that the Squaw Sachem sent thee to tell there be +danger?" John Devereux asked, half rising from his chair, and looking +toward the door. "She thinks they mean evil?" + +"Don't know how answer. English Chief talk too fast--ask too many +questions all same time. Go slow--then Joane hear right--tell him +right." And she smiled up into his face while she touched the slender +forefinger of her left hand with the fingers of the right, as if +waiting to enumerate his questions. + +"Thy grandmother sent thee?" + +The girl nodded, and touched a second finger. + +"She thinks the men on the ship may do us harm?" + +"Say don't like looks--got bad black faces," replied Joane, scowling as +though to illustrate her meaning. + +"Have any of them come ashore yet?" he asked anxiously. + +"Yes--so many," holding up seven brown fingers, "come 'shore. Get +water to drink--then go back to ship when sun shines. But no go 'way +yet--no mean to go. Tell gran'mudder want somethin' eat. Take our +corn, and pay no money." + +"Pirates!" John Devereux exclaimed, now starting to his feet, while he +looked at his wife, whose face paled. + +He hurried across the room, bolted and barred the stout door, and +examined the window fastenings, the Indian girl still crouching by the +hearth and watching him placidly, as if a pirate raid were a matter of +small moment. + +But her sparkling eyes, and the heaving bosom agitating the many bead +necklaces hanging from throat to waist, betrayed her. + +"See thou to the children, sweetheart, and warn the maids," John +Devereux said to his wife, as he took down his gun and examined it +carefully, "while I go to the men and see that the cattle be safe, and +the back of the house made secure." + +"Good!" exclaimed Joane, with quick approval. "English Chief no +sleep--heap good. Give Joane gun, too." + +"Had thou not best return to the wigwam, Joane, and to the Squaw +Sachem?" inquired Anne, pausing as she was about to leave the room. + +"What go for?" the girl demanded, while her eyes flashed with fierce +intensity. "No good go--can fight here--fight good, too. Joane stay +and fight by English Chief and his 'Singing Bird,'"--this being the +name given by the Naumkegs to Anne, on account of her musical voice. + +Knowing that nothing would turn Joane when once her ideas were fixed, +and knowing too that her skill with the bow and gun was equal to that +of any warrior, Anne was silent,--grateful indeed for any addition to +the slender force at hand for defence. + +There were in all but nine men, servants and laborers,--two of them +white, and the others either Africans or Indians; but they were all, +saving old Noah, young, stalwart, and fearless. + +John Devereux posted these men in the outbuildings and sheds, as cattle +were generally the spoil sought by the marauders when they visited the +coast. And when assigning them their positions, he warned them, should +they find themselves in danger of being overpowered, to give a signal +and retreat to the house, where a side-door would be opened for their +entrance. Then, having left with them a plentiful supply of +ammunition, he went within to mount guard over his wife and babies. + +He had five guns wherewith to arm his household, without counting his +own piece, and every woman in his service was acquainted with their +use. Even Anne herself had, under his own tuition, become no mean +markswoman. + +Within doors he found the women greatly excited, and fluttering about +aimlessly; but a few quiet words soon brought order amongst them, and +with it a return of their courage. Then, having accomplished this, he +went once more through the house, from the rooms downstairs to the +low-ceilinged sleeping apartments above, and satisfied himself that all +was secure. + +In the nursery he found his wife looking at the little boys, who were +lying on two great bags of ticking, stuffed with the feathers of wild +geese, and placed on the floor, in lieu of bedsteads. + +They were sleeping soundly, oblivious of the alarm about the house; and +standing beside his wife, his arm around her waist, John Devereux +looked down at them. + +On one of the pallets lay Humphrey, his strong young arms outstretched, +and his chest--broad for his years, and finely developed---showing +white as alabaster where the simple linen garment was rarely buttoned +by his impatient fingers. + +On the other were the two younger boys; and Robert, the gentlest of the +three, with his father's own winsome nature, lay with his head half +pillowed against his brother John's shoulder. + +"What a blessed thing is childhood, and ignorance of danger!" murmured +Anne, looking at her husband. + +"Aye," he said softly, as they turned away. "So may we know no fear of +dangers that threaten, sweet wife, while we trust to Him who watcheth +us,--who 'slumbers not, nor sleeps.'" + +And as she had answered him ten years before, so she said to him now, +"So long as we be together, I have no fear." + +A long and shrill sound now broke the silence. It was the blowing of +the conch shell suspended in front of the outer door; and it announced +a visitor seeking admission. + +Surprised at this, and alarmed as well, husband and wife hurried to the +front room below stairs, where they found Joane still crouched upon the +hearth. Her bow, now unslung, lay close at hand, and she was examining +with pleased curiosity the clumsy blunderbuss resting across her +knees,--one that John, at her earnest request, had intrusted to her. + +"No enemy--make heap too much noise," was her sententious remark, as +she looked up from her inspection of the weapon. + +"Mayhap they but do that to disarm us," John replied, as he went +cautiously toward the door. + +He knew there was no way, except from the beach, for any one to +approach the house unseen by his faithful outposts. And he had +reckoned upon no attack coming from that quarter, as there was no +sailing breeze. Then, again, the pirates would be more likely to come +from the direction of the forest, hoping to effect a greater surprise +than if they came from the water. + +The wailing cry of the conch shell pierced the air for the second time, +to echo again in falling cadences that died away in the woods and over +the sea. + +Placing his lips to the loophole near the door, John Devereux now +demanded to know who was outside. + +A nasal, whining voice replied; and although the words were +indistinguishable, their sound caused the Indian girl to laugh +scornfully. + +She said nothing, however, but springing quickly to her feet, sped to +the small opening. Then, before her purpose could be understood, she +thrust the muzzle of the blunderbuss through the aperture. + +"Hold, Joane!" commanded John, as he caught her arm. "What is't thou +wouldst do,--kill, perchance, an innocent man? Put the gun down, +child, until I challenge again, and know for a surety who it be. +Methinks the voice hath a familiar sound." + +Joane obeyed him, still smiling maliciously as she said: "Only want +give him heap big scare. Him big 'fraid--him coward." + +"'T is Parson Legg!" exclaimed Anne, now recalling the piping voice, +and enlightened by Joane's contemptuous words. + +Her husband opened the door, and a slim, weazen-faced, bandy-legged +little man stepped hastily within, his eyes, small and keen as those of +a ferret, blinking from the sudden passing out of darkness into light. + +"Good e'en to thee, Parson Legg; thou art late abroad," said Anne, +coming forward. She did not smile, nor was there aught of welcome in +her voice or manner. + +But this lack of cordiality was not felt by the unexpected visitor, for +he doffed his steeple-crowned hat, which, like the rest of his apparel, +was much the worse for wear, and responded briskly, "Good e'en, +Mistress Anne, an' the same to you, neighbor John; I hope the Lord's +blessin' is upon all within this abode. Ah, who have ye here?" and he +peered down at Joane, who had resumed her place before the fire, her +back turned squarely toward Parson Legg as he stood in the centre of +the room. + +He came closer to her, but for all the notice she vouchsafed of his +words or presence she might have been one of the brass fire-dogs +upholding the blazing logs. + +"'T is the Squaw Sachem's granddaughter, Joane," replied John Devereux, +turning from the door, which he had refastened. + +"Aye, so it be," said the little man; "one o' the unregenerate heathen, +upon whom, if they turn not from their idolatrous ways, shall descend +smitings sore from the Lord. Hip an' thigh shall they be smitten, and +their places shall know them no more." + +"Joane hath no idols, good sir, that I know on," said his host, as he +came forward and offered the visitor a seat, and then took one himself +by the door. "She seemeth ever ready to heed the words of my good +wife, and our babes could not have a more gentle playfellow." + +Anne had seated herself near Joane, by the fire; and she looked with no +very friendly eyes at the Parson, as she said, "Think you not, good +sir, it were better to chide the 'unregenerate heathen,' as you call +them, with more gentleness?" + +His little eyes narrowed into yet meaner lines as he fixed them upon +her face. Then leaning forward to lay a finger upon the gun that again +lay across Joane's knees, he answered, "It would seem but poor excuse +to prate o' gentleness to one who at unseemly hours and seasons goeth +about with death-dealin' weapons, seekin' whom she may devour." + +The Indian girl still sat immovable; a statue could not have appeared +more bereft of hearing or speech. But to Anne's face there came a look +of fine scorn, which softened however into almost a smile as she +glanced at her husband. + +"Joane came to warn us of danger," John said quietly. "She tells us +there is a strange ship in harbor, and we be now armed to guard against +pirates,--for such they promise to be." + +Parson Legg sprang to his feet as though stung by a passing insect. + +"Pirates!" he repeated, in a shrill cry of alarm. "Pirates,--say ye +so? I heard naught o' such matter. I was in the woods hereabout all +the afternoon, readin' the psalmody, an' makin' joyful melody unto the +Lord, till darkness o'ertook me, an' I bethought myself to make my way +to this abode, neighbor John, as peradventure thou an' Mistress Anne, +thy wife, would give me food an' shelter in the Lord's name till +mornin'." + +Parson Legg was only an itinerant preacher, having long striven, but +without avail, to be accepted by the colonists as successor to their +late beloved pastor, the Reverend Hugh Peters, who had gone to England +some years before to act as their agent, and was likely to remain there +for some time to come, being now a chaplain in the army of Cromwell. + +But Legg was entirely unfitted, both by birth and education, for the +position to which he aspired. He was selfish and irritable, with a +grasping, worldly nature, despite his outward show of humility and +sanctity, and was regarded by the colonists with suspicion and illy +concealed dislike, while the Indians held him in positive hatred. + +Since the summer day, two years before, when he had come upon Joane in +the forest, attired in the manly habiliments of her tribe,--this being +only for greater convenience while hunting--and had hurled at her young +head anathemas such as fairly smelled of brimstone, it had been open +war between the two; and the very sight of one to the other was like +that of a plump kitten to a lively terrier. + +Anne had by this time set forth a meal upon the table, and +notwithstanding his recent fright, Parson Legg's little eyes glistened +voraciously as he drew up his chair, while he smacked his thin lips +more as would a sturdy yeoman, than like a meek and lowly follower of +the creed which crucifies the flesh and its appetites. + +John still kept his seat by the door, his keen ears listening intently +for any unusual sound without, while Parson Legg crunched away at the +venison and corn bread,--doing this with more gusto than was pleasant +for either eye or ear. + +Anne had left the room, motioning to Joane to follow her, and an +intense silence seemed to lie about the house, save as it was broken by +the sputtering of the fire upon the hearth and the sound of Parson +Legg's gastronomic vocalism, and now and then the subdued murmur of +women's voices from one of the rooms in the rear. + +A sudden roar of firearms, followed by wild yells and cries without, +shattered the peaceful brooding of the place, and caused Parson Legg to +spring wildly from his chair. + +"The heathen are upon us!" he gasped, his articulation being somewhat +impeded by the presence of a huge piece of venison in his mouth. "The +heathen are come upon us with riotin' an' slaughter! John--John +Devereux, hide me, I beseech thee,--hide me from their vengeance. I am +a man o' peace, an' the sight o' bloodshed is somethin' I could ne'er +abide." + +John paid no attention to the terrified little man, but springing up +with an impetuosity that sent his chair flying across the room, stood +erect and scowling, his face turned toward the sounds of strife, and +his strong fingers gripping his gun. + +"Anne--wife--where art thou?" he cried, as the din increased, and more +shots were fired. + +"Here." And she quietly entered the room, her face pale, but perfectly +calm. "The noise hath awakened the little boys, but I have left Shubar +with them, and promised to return shortly." + +"Where is Joane?" her husband asked quickly. + +"With Shubar and the boys." + +"Good; for then there be one gun near, to assure the little ones." + +He had been nervously fingering the hammer of his own piece, and while +speaking he crossed the room and took a position near that side of the +house from whence came the sound of firearms. + +Anne remained by the hearth, watching him closely, her tightly clenched +hands being all that told of the agitation within. + +"Are the little ones much affrighted?" he asked. + +"No," she said, still in her calm, sweet fashion; "they do not seem to +be--that is, not much. Humphrey begged that he might have a gun, and +Robert sat quiet, looking at me with eyes so like your own as he asked, +'Art fearful, mother? Father will ne'er let them hurt us.'" + +John Devereux smiled proudly, for the moment forgetting the din about +them. + +"And John," he asked,--"what said our second son?" + +"He seemeth most affrighted of all," she replied. "He wept at first, +and hid his face in my gown; but he was calm when I came away. Thou +knowest, John, that the lad hath not been well since the fever, last +fall." + +"Aye, true,--poor little Jack!" the father said. And he now wondered +what might have happened outside, for there was a ceasing of the uproar. + +He listened intently a moment. "Methinks, sweetheart, I'd best go +outside and see what this silence doth mean. Thou'lt not be fearful if +I leave the house awhile?" + +She grew still paler, but only shook her head. Then she asked +suddenly, "Where be Parson Legg?" + +Husband and wife looked about the room, and then at one another. + +"He was here when the firing began," said John, finding it difficult +not to smile as he recalled the scene. + +"But wherever can he have gone?" persisted Anne. + +"Hiding somewhere, I warrant me," was her husband's reply. "He is an +arrant--" + +His words were drowned by the roar of a blunderbuss, coming apparently +from just over their heads, and this was followed a moment later by a +wild yell of triumph from outside. + +It was from John's men, and he started to open the door. But before he +could do this there arose such a clamor in the nursery above that he +and Anne, forgetful of all else, sped up the stairway. + +Old Shubar's voice came to them raised in shrill cries, echoed by those +of the boys,--only that Humphrey and Robert seemed to speak more from +indignation than fright. + +Wondering what it could all mean, they hurried into the room, where an +absurd sight met their alarmed eyes. + +In one corner, beside Humphrey's pallet, stood Shubar, still uttering +the wild shrieks they had heard, and huddling about her were the three +boys,--John clinging to her gown, while Humphrey and Robert, both +facing about, were shouting at a strange figure that burrowed +frantically into the pallet occupying the opposite corner of the +chamber. + +"Shubar says 't is a witch," cried Robert. "Take thy gun and slay her +before she bring evil upon us." + +"Be quiet, my son," said his father, scarcely able to repress his +laughter, for at the sound of his voice Parson Legg's weazened face, +all blanched by fear, was lifted from out the pillows, and a pair of +terror-stricken eyes peered over his shoulder. + +He had been lying face downward, partially covered by the bedclothes, +under which he was still trying to conceal himself; and his +steeple-crowned hat, now a shapeless wreck, was pulled down over his +ears, as if to shut out more effectually the sounds of strife that had +well-nigh bereft him of reason. + +"It would seem thou canst preach far better, Parson Legg, than defend +thyself from the enemy," John Devereux said rather grimly, looking down +with unconcealed contempt upon the little coward, while Anne busied +herself in reassuring the children and quieting Shubar's angry +mutterings. + +"Even so, neighbor John, even so," answered the Parson, in no wise +disconcerted at the sarcasm of the other's words and tone, and making +no movement to emerge from his retreat. "As I told thee below, I am a +man o' peace, an' I like not the sound o' war an' the sight o' +bloodshed. But what doth this silence portend?--are the enemy +routed,--are they vanquished, an' put down, smitten hip an' thigh, an' +put to flight by thy brave followers?" + +His anxious queries met with no reply, for John Devereux, who was +standing upon the threshold of the room, had become conscious of a +sharp current of air blowing upon his cheek. It told him that the +scuttle was open overhead, and turning about, he darted swiftly up the +ladder. + +He was soon upon the roof, and here he stood a few moments and looked +keenly about. + +The voices of his men came to him from the ground below. They had left +their concealment, and the lightness of their tones told him that all +danger was past. + +As his eyes became more accustomed to the gloom, the dim starlight +revealed to him the outlines of a form crouching behind the great +chimney not far away. + +"Joane!" he called softly, suspecting who it might be. + +She arose and came to him, and he heard her laughing to herself. + +"What camest thou up here for?" he demanded, speaking quite sharply. + +"Joane shoot pirate captain," she answered, still laughing. "Heap +scare 'em--no know where shot come from--all run away to ship." + +And so it proved. The marauders, having received a very different +reception from the one they had expected, were utterly discomfited when +an unseen enemy--in the person of Joane and her blunderbuss--scattered +a mighty charge of slugs and bullets in their midst. Their leader was +struck in the arm, and fearing they had fallen into an ambuscade from +which it would be difficult to escape, he shouted to his men that he +was wounded, and bade them fly to the ship. + +This was the last of the raids that had so annoyed the colonists, and +thenceforth they were free from such molestation. + +John Devereux's days passed on, full of peace and pleasantness, until +he died at a ripe old age, respected and loved by all his +fellow-townsmen, and mourned deeply by the faithful wife who did not +long survive him. + +The boys lived to man's estate, were married, and had children of their +own. But Humphrey and John died in their father's lifetime; and so it +was that Robert, the second son, became the heir. + + + + +CHAPTER I + +Marblehead, and July, in the year of our Lord 1774. + +In the harbor (now known as Great Bay) the water lay, a smooth, +glistening floor of amethystine hue, shut in protectively by the +"Neck," thrust out like a strong arm between it and the rougher sea +beyond, stretching, purple and endless, to the rim of the cloudless +horizon. + +To the north and northwest lay the islands, the nearer ones sharply +outlined in trees and verdure, but showing here and there a grayness of +beach or boulder, like the bald spot among some good man's otherwise +plentiful locks. + +Looking eastward, Cat Island was closest of all to the mainland, the +charred ruins upon it showing sharply in the brilliant afternoon +sunshine; and here, amid the desolation, a few of the blackened timbers +still remained upright, like arms lifted in protest against the +vengeance visited upon the hospital a short time before by the +well-meant zeal of the infuriated townsfolk. + +In August of the previous year, during an epidemic of smallpox, a +meeting was called in the townhouse, and Elbridge Gerry, John Glover, +Azor Orne, and Jonathan Glover petitioned that a hospital be built on +Cat Island, for the treatment of smallpox patients, or else that the +town permit certain individuals to do this at their own expense. + +The town refused to build the hospital, but gave permission to the +individuals to construct one, provided the adjoining town of Salem gave +its consent; it being also stipulated that the hospital should be so +regulated as to shield the inhabitants of Marblehead from any "danger +of infection" therefrom. + +The necessary approval having been obtained from Salem, preparations +were made in September for erecting the hospital. + +By this time some of the people of Marblehead had become impressed with +the fear that by the establishing of the hospital the dread disease +would become a prevailing pest amongst them. Their terror made them +unreasonable, and they now fiercely opposed the scheme to which they +had once given their consent, and demanded that the work be abandoned; +but the proprietors, filled with indignation at what they considered +rank injustice, persisted in carrying out their worthy project to +completion. + +In October the hospital was finished, and placed in charge of an +eminent physician from Portsmouth, who had attained a wide reputation +for his success in the treatment of smallpox. Several hundred patients +came under his care, with gratifying results. But a few had died, and +this fact brought about bitter and active hostility from the +malcontents. They demanded that the place be abandoned at once; and +threats of violence began to be made. + +The feeling gained in strength and intensity, until at length the +proprietors gave up the contest. And then, to assure themselves that +the hospital should not be reopened, a party of the townspeople, +closely disguised, crossed to Cat Island one night in the following +January, and left the buildings in flames. + +But now these summer weeks found the town excited and tumultuous over +still graver matters. The British government had found it +impracticable to enforce the duty upon tea, and resorting to +subterfuge, adopted a compromise whereby the East India Company, +hitherto the greatest losers by the diminution of its exports from +Great Britain, was authorized to send its goods to all places free of +duty. + +Although the tea would now become cheaper for the colonists, they were +not deceived by this new ministerial plan. And when the news was +received that the East India Company had freighted ships with tea +consigned to its colonial agents, meetings were held to devise measures +to prevent the sale or unloading of the tea within the province. + +The agents, when waited upon by the committee chosen for that purpose +in Boston, refused flatly to promise that the tea should not be +unloaded or sold by them; and they were forthwith publicly stigmatized +as enemies to their country, and resolutions were adopted providing +that they, and all such, should be dealt with accordingly. + +In December, 1773, the historical "Tea Party" took place in Boston +harbor; and in the following spring Governor Hutchinson resigned, and +General Thomas Gage was appointed in his stead. + +Bill after bill was passed in Parliament and sanctioned by the King, +having in view but the single object of bringing the people of +Massachusetts to terms. The quartering of English troops in Boston was +made legal. Town meetings were prohibited except by special permission +from the Governor. And finally the infamous "Port Bill" was passed, +which removed the seat of government to Salem, and closed the port of +Boston to commerce. + +In July subscriptions were being solicited by order of the town of +Marblehead for the relief of the poor of Boston, who were suffering +from the operation of the "Port Bill," and all the buildings which +could be utilized, even to the town-house, were placed at the disposal +of the merchants, for the storage of their goods. + +In defiance of Parliament, whose act had practically suppressed all +town meetings, the people of Marblehead continued to assemble and +express their views, and discuss the grave questions then agitating the +entire country. The very air of the sea seemed to murmur of war and +the rumors of war; and the hearts of thinking men and women were heavy +with forebodings of the struggle they felt to be imminent. + +But the little town was lying brooding and peaceful this July +afternoon. Its wooded hills to the west sent shadows across the grassy +meadows and slopes, rising and falling to meet the sand-beaches, or +ending in the headlands of granite that made sightly outlooks from +which to scan the sea for threatening ships. + +Under the pines that made shadows along the way, a horseman was going +leisurely along the road leading to the Fountain Inn. + +To his left lay level meadow lands, rising into hills as they neared +the inn, the old Burial Hill--the town's God's Acre--being highest of +all. To his right, the green fields and marshes stretched unbroken to +the sea, save for here and there a clump of bushes and tangled vines, +or a thicket of wild roses. The road before him ended in two branches, +one leading to the rising ground on the right, where stood the Fountain +Inn, while to the left it terminated in a sandy beach, before which +stretched the peaceful waters of Little Harbor, now whitened with the +sails of East Indian commerce, and the craft belonging to the fishing +fleets that plied their yearly trade to the "Banks" and to Boston. + +No large ship could come nigh the shore in Little Harbor; whereas in +the deep bay lying between the Neck and the town, the enemy's vessels +might anchor by the land itself. And here the townsfolk kept a most +active lookout, which left the hills and beaches of Little Harbor +almost deserted. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +The bridle was lying slack upon the neck of the horse, who picked his +way carefully along the road, his hoofs now clicking over the stony +highway, now falling noiselessly upon the brown pine needles. And the +occasional clatter of his shoes, or the busy chatter of a squirrel high +up in a tree, were the only sounds to interrupt the musings of the +stalwart rider, whose head was bowed, and whose eyes strayed moodily +about. + +He was dark and tall, well knit, and of powerful build, yet lithe and +graceful. The wandering breeze whipped out stray curling locks about +his ears and temples from the mass of dark hair done up in a queue. +The broad-brimmed riding-hat was pulled well down over his strongly +marked brows, and the smooth-shaven face betrayed the compressed lips +of the large but finely formed mouth. + +A flash of something white speeding across the road a few yards in +front of him caused the dark eyes to open wide, and brought his musings +to a sudden end. + +Across the marshes to the left he caught a glimpse of twinkling feet, +encased in low steel-buckled shoes that seemed to be bearing away from +him a fleeting cloud of white drapery. + +It was a female, with her so-called "cut" (a dress-skirt so narrow and +straight as to make rapid movement very difficult) thrown up over her +head and shoulders, as she went over the grass toward the beach at the +side of the road facing the Neck. + +Recognizing her at once, the horseman called out, "Dorothy!" and +spurred his horse out of the road and across the marsh. + +As though hearing him, she paused, and without lowering the "cut," +turned to look over her shoulder. + +The wind, catching her dress, blew the white folds aside, showing a +roguish face, and one bearing a strong family resemblance to the man in +pursuit. But her features were small and delicate, while his, although +not lacking in refinement, were far bolder in strength of outline. + +She had the same dark eyes, set far apart under delicate but firmly +marked brows,--the same swart curling lashes, and riotous locks. + +But here the likeness ceased; for while his face was grave, and full of +a set purpose and resolution, hers was almost babyish, and full of +witchery, with a peachy bloom coming and going in the rounded cheeks. + +She was panting a little from her running, and now stood, waiting for +him to speak, her red lips parted in a mocking smile that showed two +rows of little teeth, white as the meat of a hazel-nut. + +"What mischief have you been up to, you little rogue, and why are you +running away from me?" he asked. He spoke with quiet good nature, but +looked down at her with an elder brother's reproof showing in his face. + +She did not answer, but only glanced up at him from the sheltering +folds of the skirt, billowing about her face like a cloud, while the +horse, recognizing a loved playmate, whinnied, and bowed his head to +her shoulder as if mutely begging a caress. + +"You have been to see Moll Pitcher again," the young man asserted; "and +you know our father would be angry that you should do it. And 't is +very wrong, Dorothy, in these times, that you should be over in this +part of the town alone." + +Her brother called her so rarely by her full name that a change from +the caressing "Dot" to the solemn-sounding "Dorothy" was a sure mark of +his displeasure. + +The smile died from her face, and her eyes fell. But she looked +mutinous, as she raised a small hand to stroke the horse's nose. + +"I did not come alone, Jack," she explained. "Leet rowed me over, and +Pashar came with us; and I had little 'Bitha, too." + +"An old darkey, who sits dozing in the boat, half a mile away from you, +with his twelve-year-old grandson, and little Tabitha! These make a +fine protection, truly, had you met with soldiers or other troublesome +people," he said with some sarcasm. "Do you not know there was a new +vessel, filled with British soldiers, went into Salem harbor +yesterday--and belike they are roaming about the country to-day?" He +switched his riding-boot as he spoke, scowling as though the mention of +the matter had awakened vengeful thoughts. + +"Hugh Knollys has but just ridden over from Salem; and he said they +were all housed there, along with the Governor," the girl said eagerly, +glad to find something to say in her defence, as well as to turn the +current of her brother's thoughts. + +"Hugh Knollys!" he repeated. "Has he been at our house this day?" + +"No-o," she answered hesitatingly. "We met him just now as we came out +of Moll's. He is at the Fountain Inn." + +"We," he said, a smile showing about the corners of his lips. "Are you +His Gracious Majesty, Dot, that you speak of yourself as 'We'?" + +At the sound of her baby name, all the brightness returned to her face, +and glancing up at him, she whispered mischievously, "Look in the +thicket behind you." + +He turned to send a keen glance into the clump of bushes and vines +growing some dozen yards closer to the road he had just left; and there +he caught a glimpse of pale blue--like female raiment--showing amid the +foliage. + +Wheeling his horse quickly, he rode toward it; and what he now saw was +a tall, blonde girl of eighteen or thereabouts, who arose slowly from +where she had been hiding, and came forward with a dignity that savored +of defiance, although there seemed to be a smile lurking in the corners +of her mouth. + +Her gypsy hat hung by its blue ribbons on one white rounded arm, bared +to the elbow, as the fashion of her sleeve left it. The neck of her +pale blue gown was low cut; but a small cape of the same material was +over it,--crossed, fichu-wise, on her bosom, and then carried under the +arms, to be knotted at the back. + +Her round white throat rose out of the sheer blue drapery in fine, +strong lines, to support a regal head, crowned with a glory of pale +brown hair, now bared to the sun, and glinting as though golden +sparkles were caught in its silky meshes. + +As she approached, the rider held up his horse, and sat motionless, +staring at her, while a merry peal of laughter, silvery as chiming +bells, broke from sixteen-year-old Dorothy. + +"Mary Broughton!" the young man exclaimed at length, as he looked +wonderingly at the fair-haired girl. + +She paused a yard away and swept him a mocking courtesy as she +said,--and her musical voice was of the quality we are told is "good in +woman,"--"Aye; at your service, Master John Devereux." + +"Then you have been with our madcap here?" he asked, now finding his +tongue more readily. + +"All the afternoon--an it please you, sir," she replied in the same +tone of playful irony. + +"It does please me," he said, now with a smile, "for it was much better +than had Dot been alone, as I supposed at first. But think you it is +safe for you two girls to come wandering over here by yourselves?" And +in the look of his dark eyes, in the very tone of his voice, there was +something different,--more caressing than had been found even for his +small sister, who had now drawn close to them. + +Mary Broughton slipped her arm through Dorothy's, and the mockery left +her face. + +"I suppose not," she answered frankly. "But, to tell the truth, I had +not thought of such a thing until you mentioned it. We've not met a +soul, save Hugh Knollys, who was riding into the inn yard as we came +from Moll Pitcher's." + +"And so you have been to consult Moll's oracle?" the young man said +banteringly. + +The white lids fell over the honest blue eyes that had been looking +straight up into his own. The girl seemed greatly embarrassed, and her +color deepened, while Dorothy only giggled, and slyly pinched the arm +upon which her slender fingers were resting. + +Mary gave her a quick glance of reproof. Then she raised her eyes and +said hesitatingly, "We heard she was down from Lynn, on a visit to her +father." + +"You girls are bewitched with Moll Pitcher and her prophecies," he +exclaimed with a laugh. + +"Ah--but she tells such wonderful things," began Dorothy, impetuously. +But Mary Broughton laid a small white hand over the red lips and +glanced warningly at her companion. + +"What did she tell?" the young man asked. But now Dorothy only smiled, +and shook her head. + +"Come, Dorothy," Mary said, "we had best get back to the boat." And +she turned to go; but the younger girl hung back. + +"Are you going to a meeting at the inn, Jack?" she inquired, looking at +her brother. + +"Little girls must not ask questions," he answered, yet smiling at her +lovingly. "But do you hasten to the boat, and get home, Dot, you and +Mary. It troubles me that you should be about here. Hurry home, +now,--there's a good little girl." But he looked at both of them as he +spoke. + +"Shall you be home by evening?" his sister asked, keeping her face +toward him as she backed away, obliged to move in the direction of the +beach; for Mary, still holding her arm, was walking along. + +He nodded and smiled; then riding back to the highway, wheeled his +horse and stopped to watch the two figures making their hurried way +across the marsh. But his eyes rested longest upon one of them, tall +and regal, her blonde head showing golden in the waning light, the +vivid green of the marshes and the deep purple of the sea making a +defining background for the beauty of the woman to whom John Devereux +had given his lifelong love. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +"Oh, Mary, there is Johnnie Strings!" exclaimed Dorothy, as they drew +near shore, where lay the rowboat, beached on the sand, with Leet, the +faithful old darkey, sitting close by, awaiting the pleasure of his +adored young mistress. + +Near him a little girl of seven was gathering pebbles, her heavy blonde +braids touching the tawny sand whenever she stooped in her search. And +crouched by his grandfather Leet was the boy Pashar, looking like an +animated inkspot upon the brightness all about. His white eyeballs and +teeth showed sharply by contrast with their onyx-like settings, as he +sat with his thick lips agape, literally drinking in the words of the +redoubtable Johnnie Strings, a wiry, sharp-faced little man, whose +garments resembled the dry, faded tints of the autumn woods. + +Johnnie, with his pedler's pack, stored with a seemingly unlimited +variety of wares, was a well-known and welcome visitor to every +housewife in town. He lived when at home (which was rarely) in a +hut-like abode up among the rocks of Skinner's Head; and the highway +between Boston and Gloucester was tramped by him many times during the +year. + +He owned a raw-boned nag of milk-white hue, and rejoicing in the name +of Lavinia Amelia; and these two, with a yellow cur, constituted the +entire _menage_ of the Strings household. + +Johnnie, like Topsy, must have "just growed," for aught anyone ever +knew of a parent Strings. The one item of information possessed by his +acquaintances was that his name was not Johnnie Strings at all, but +"Stand-fast-on-high Stringer,"--an indication that he must have +received his baptism at Puritanical hands. + +Either "Stand-fast-on-high" became more unregenerate as his infancy was +left behind, or else his associates had no great taste for Biblical +terms as applied to every-day use; for his real name had long since +become vulgarized to the common earthiness of "Johnnie," and "Stringer" +had been reduced to "Strings." + +He now sat upon his pack--a smaller one than he usually carried--and +was saying to Leet, "Now that there be so cantankerous a lot o' them +pesky King's soldiers 'bout us, there's no sayin' what day or night +they won't overrun the hull country, from the Governor's house at +Salem, clean over here to the sea; an' every man will be wise, that +owns cattle, to sleep with one eye an' ear open, an' a gun within +reach." + +"What are you saying, Johnnie Strings?" called out Dorothy, as she and +Mary came up. "Are you trying to frighten old Leet into fits?" + +The little pedler sprang to his feet and snatched off his battered +wreck of a hat, showing a scant lot of carroty hair, gathered tightly +into a rusty black ribbon at the nape of his weather-beaten neck. + +"Only sayin' God's truth, sweet mistress," he answered, bowing and +scraping with elaborate politeness. "I've just come from over Salem +way; an' yesterday evenin' ye could scarcely see the ground for the red +spots that covered it. There were three ship-loads came in yesterday, +to add to the ungodly lot o' soldiers already there." + +Mary looked troubled, but Dorothy only laughed. And little 'Bitha, +abandoning her search for shells and pebbles, pressed closely against +her cousin, looking up out of a pair of frightened eyes, blue as +forget-me-nots, as she asked, "Does Johnnie say the soldiers are coming +after us, Dot?" + +Dorothy checked herself in what she was about to say, and bent to +reassure the little one, putting an arm about her neck to draw the +golden head still closer to her. + +"What are they come down from Boston for, Johnnie?" Mary asked; "do you +know?" + +He cocked his head aslant, and resumed his hat, screwing up one eye in +a fashion most impudent in any man but himself, as he looked at her +with a cunning leer. Then he said: "There's no harm to come from 'em +yet. But soldiers be a lawless lot, if they get turned loose to look +after we folk 'bout the coast here, as is like to be the case now. An' +so I was just meanin' to hint to ye that 'twould be as well to stop +nigher home, after this day." + +Old Leet, who had listened with a stolid face to all this, was now +pushing the boat into the water, while Pashar stood gaping at the +pedler, until ordered gruffly by his grandsire to stand ready to hold +the craft. + +"Have you knowledge that they are coming down here?" inquired Mary, +speaking more insistently than before. + +"We-l-l, yes, I have," he admitted with a drawl, and was about to add +something more, when Dorothy, who had deposited 'Bitha in the boat, and +was now getting in to take her own place in the stern, said to him, +"Come with us, Johnnie, and we'll take you home, as we pass quite close +to your"--hesitating a second--"your house." + +"No, thank ye, mistress," he replied, grinning proudly at the dignity +she had bestowed upon his humble abode. "I've that will take me up to +Dame Chine, at the Fountain Inn, an' I should be there this very +minute, an' not chatterin' here. But I was tired, an' when I came +along an' saw old Leet, sat down to rest a bit." + +"When are you intending to fetch that pink ribbon you promised me weeks +ago, and the lace for Aunt Lettice?" demanded Dorothy, as Mary +Broughton stepped over the intervening seats, past Leet, at the oars, +with small 'Bitha alongside him, and took her place beside her friend. + +"I've both in my pack, up at the hut; I'll bring 'em to the house this +week, ye may depend on it," answered Johnnie, as Pashar pushed off the +boat, springing nimbly in as the keel left the sand. + +"If you do not, I'll never buy another thing from you so long as I +live," the girl called back, with a wilful toss of her head, as Leet +pulled away with strong, rapid strokes. + +"'T is all wrong for two pretty ones like them to be roamin' 'round in +such fashion," said Johnnie to himself, as he stooped to take up his +pack. Then suddenly, as if remembering something, he turned to the +shore and called out, "Shall ye find Master John at home, think ye, +Mistress Dorothy?" + +Her voice came back silvery clear over the distance of water lying +between them. "No; he is up at the Fountain Inn." + +"Ah, as I thought," the pedler muttered, with a meaning smile. "I'll +just be in the nick o' time." + +"What think you it all means, Mary?" Dorothy asked, the two sitting +close together in the boat. + +"What _all_ means?" echoed Mary, in an absent-minded way, her head +turned toward the shore they were leaving, where on the higher land the +far-away windows of the Fountain Inn were showing like glimmering stars +in the light of the setting sun. + +"Why," Dorothy explained, smiling at Mary's abstraction, "all these +soldiers coming down here? And Johnnie acts and talks as if he could +tell something important, if he chose." + +"You know, Dot, we are like to have serious trouble,--perhaps a war +with the mother country." + +"And all because of a parcel of old tea!" exclaimed Dorothy, with great +scorn. + +Mary now turned her face in the direction the boat was going, and +smiled faintly. "The tea is really what has brought matters to a +head," she said. "But there is more in it than that alone, from what +I've heard my father say. And there is much about it that we girls +cannot rightly understand, or talk about very wisely. Only, I hope +there will be no war. War is such a terrible thing," she added with a +shudder, "and you know what Moll told us. I almost wish we had not +gone to see her to-day." + +"I am not a bit sorry we went," said Dorothy, stoutly. "I am glad. +What did she say,--something about a big black cloud full of lightnings +and muttering thunder, coming from across the sea, to spread over the +land and darken it? Was n't that it?" + +"Yes, and much more. Do you think she was asleep as she talked to us, +Dot? She looked so strangely, and yet her eyes were wide open all the +time." + +"Tyntie does the same thing at times. She says it's 'trance.' But +Aunt Penine always puts me out of the kitchen when Tyntie gets that +way, and so I don't know whether she talks or not. I mean to try and +find out, if I can, the next time Tyntie gets into such a state." + +"Nothing seems strange for Indians to do or to be," Mary said musingly; +"but I never heard of such things amongst white people." + +"Oh, yes, you did," Dorothy answered quickly. "Whatever are you +thinking of, not to remember about the witches? 'T is said they could +foretell to a certainty of future happenings. I wish I'd lived in +those days, although it could not have been pleasant to see folks +hanged for such knowledge. As for Moll Pitcher,--I guess she might +have been treated as was old Mammie Redd." + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +There was a long silence, broken at last by Mary saying, "Perhaps what +some folk say of Moll is true,--that it is an evil gift she has. And +yet she has a sweet face and gentle manner." + +"I wonder if 't is truth, what they say of old Dimond, her father," +said Dorothy, her chin supported in one soft palm, while her eyes +looked off over the water, motionless almost as the seaweed growing on +the scarred rocks along the shore, left bare by the low tide. + +"What is that?" Mary asked. + +"Why, that whenever there was a dark, stormy night, with a gale +threatening the ships at sea, he would go up on Burial Hill, and beat +about amongst the grass, to save the crews from shipwreck." + +Mary laughed. "What an idea!" she exclaimed. "How could beating the +ground about the dead benefit or protect the living, who are surely in +the keeping of Him who makes the tempests?" + +"I don't know," was Dorothy's simple answer. "Only that is what I've +heard, ever since I was a child. And such talk always took my fancy." + +"Well, old Dimond doesn't look now as if he could have strength to beat +the ground, or anything else. Poor old man, he is very feeble, and I +should say 't is a happy thing for him that Moll can come down from +Lynn now and then, to attend him." + +"Yes," Dorothy assented. Then, with a lively change of tone and +manner, "'T was odd, Mary, for her to say that when you left her door +you were to see your true-love riding to meet you on horseback." + +Mary started, and without answering, turned her head away, while the +blood rushed to her lovely face. + +"Which was he, sweetheart?" Dorothy persisted teasingly, bending her +head so as to bring her smiling face directly under the down-dropped +blue eyes, and then laughing outright at the confusion she saw there. + +"Which one was it?" she repeated. "You know Hugh Knollys rode down the +road directly toward you, and then--" + +But Mary's white hand was over the laughing lips and silenced them. + +"If your father should hear you talking in such fashion, Dot, I feel +sure he would be displeased with me for having gone with you to see +Moll." Mary made an effort to look and speak naturally, but her eyes +were very bright and her face was still deeply flushed. + +Dorothy smiled, and shook her curly head wilfully. "Not he," she said +with decision; "leastway, not for long. He is stern enough, at times, +to others; but he can never be severe with me." + +"Ah, Dot, but you are surely a spoiled child," said Mary, with a fond +glance at the winsome face. + +Dorothy shrugged her small shoulders. "So Aunt Penine is always +saying; but all the aunts in the world could never come 'twixt my +father and me." + +Little 'Bitha, who had been crooning softly to herself, and +improvising, after a fashion of her own,-- + + "The sea is blue, blue, blue, + The sea is blue, and I love the sea," + +suddenly cried out, "Oh, Dot, look, look! What an ugly fish!" + +They all looked, and saw a dead dogfish, its cruel teeth showing in the +gaping jaws, go bobbing by, entangled in a mesh of floating seaweed. + +"Him look like dead nigger," said Pashar, as he flung a pebble at it. + +Old Leet scowled over his shoulder at his lively descendant. + +"Dere'll be anudder, an' real true, dead nigger ter keep him company, +ef ye don't sit still, an' quit grampussin' 'bout de boat," he growled; +and. Pashar became very quiet. + +They were now drawing in nearer to the shore, where the strip of +sand-beach lay down below the rocky headland, upon the highest point of +which stood Spray House, the home of Nicholson Broughton and his +daughter Mary. + +The house--a low, rambling building, with gabled roof--was perched upon +the highest of a series of greenstone and syenite ledges, whose natural +jaggedness had no need to be strengthened by art to render them a safe +bulwark against the encroaching seas, when the storms flashed blinding +mists and glittering spray about the diamond-paned windows. + +These looked off over the open water, and past the point of land +intervening between Great Bay and Marblehead Rock. Upon the latter was +an odd beacon,--being a discarded pulpit from one of the Boston +churches, whence, after hearing much of the noise and commotion of men, +it had been transferred to this barren rock, there to listen to the +ceaseless tumult of the battling sea. + +Inland from Spray House stood the many great warehouses; and back of +these stretched the pasture-lands, breaking here and there into rough +hills, showing fields of golden splendor, where the wood-wax, or +"dyer's weed," was growing in luxuriant wildness. + +Several small boats were drawn up on the beach; and anchored a little +way out, and directly opposite the front windows of Spray House, were +two goodly-sized schooners, and a brig, their topmasts now touched by +the fiery gold of sunset. + +"I wish you were coming home with me, Mary," said Dorothy, as Leet ran +the boat's nose into the shingle, and Pashar leaped out to hold the +stern. + +"I wish so, too. But you know it will not be many days before father +goes up to Boston, and he said I should abide with you until he +returned." + +"That will be fine," said Dorothy, her face aglow with pleasure, as +Mary, after dropping a light kiss upon her check, arose to leave the +boat. "Only, if I were you, I should coax him to let me go to Boston." + +"I did ask him; but he goes on public matters, he said, and was like to +have a quick and a rough trip." Mary was now standing upon the beach. + +"Well, be he gone a long or a short time, we shall all be very happy to +have you with us. That you know, surely." And Dorothy kissed her hand +to her friend, as Leet pulled out again into the water and rowed toward +the upper end of the bay, while Mary took her way across the beach to +the thread-like path leading up to the plateau that formed the back +dooryard of Spray House. + +In the yard was Joe, the darkey serving-man, busy cutting more wood to +increase the already generous pile stored in the building near by, +while Agnes, his niece, was in the kitchen, preparing the evening meal. + +In the long, low, oak-panelled "living-room" of the house, its windows +facing the water, Mary found her father. He was standing--a tall, +finely built man, nearly fifty--gazing through an open window. His +sturdy legs were well apart, as with hands in his trousers' pockets he +was jingling his keys and loose coin in a restless sort of way, while +he hummed to himself. + +Mary entered so softly, or else his thoughts were so absorbing, that he +did not notice her until she stood close beside him and slipped a hand +within his arm. Then he started, and the scowl left his brow as he +turned the frank, blue-gray eyes, so like her own, down upon her +upturned, smiling face. + +"Ha, Pigsney!" he exclaimed, now smiling himself. "And have you had a +pleasant water-trip?" He looked at her lovingly, while he caressed the +blonde head that just reached to his broad shoulder. + +"Yes," she replied hurriedly. "And I met Johnnie Strings, who has but +just come from over Salem way. He says there are quantities of +soldiers there, and that they are like to come this way and spread all +over the town." + +"You speak of them, sweetheart, as if they might be another epidemic of +smallpox," he said grimly, "And so they are, so they are, if not indeed +something worse." And the scowl came back to his face as he looked off +over the water at his brig and schooners. + +"But what does it all mean, father?" Mary asked anxiously. "Think you +they will meet with opposition should they actually come down here? +Oh, it would be dreadful to have any fighting right here in our streets +and before our very doors." The girl trembled, and her cheeks paled. + +"Nay, nay, lass," and he patted her shoulder reassuringly; "cross no +bridges until you come to them." Then he added rather impatiently, +"What does Johnnie Strings mean by telling such tales to affright +women-folk?" + +"We--Dorothy Devereux and I--met him, and we made him talk. But he did +not seem to want to tell us all he knew about it." + +"And quite right," said her father, smiling again. "Lord pity the man +who is fool enough to tell women--and girls, at that--all he knows of +such matters, in days like these." + +Mary looked up at him a little reproachfully, but he only bent and +kissed her, as he said, now quite gravely: "I've much on my mind this +night, my child, and I have to ask if you can be ready soon after +supper to drive with me to the house of neighbor Devereux, and to stop +there a few days with Dorothy. I have certain matters to talk over +with him, and will pass the night there; and before daylight I must be +on my way to Boston." + + + + +CHAPTER V + +On Riverhead Beach, at the extreme southwest end, the Devereux family +kept sundry boats, for greater convenience in reaching the town proper, +without going around the Neck, by the open seaway; and some distance +from the boat-house was their home, the way being along the shore and +across the thriftily planted acres and through the woodland. + +The same low stone house it was that had withstood the pirates' raid +over one hundred years before. But the forests were now gone, although +a noble wood still partially environed it. And beyond this were +sloping hills and grassy meadows, through which ran a stream of pure, +sweet water, wandering on through the dusk of the woods until it found +the sea. + +Here fed the flocks and herds of Joseph Devereux, the grandson of John +and Anne. + +There had been some additions to the original building, but these were +low and rambling, like the older portion. And before it, broader of +expanse and to the vision than in the early days, stretched the sea, a +far-reaching floor of glass or foam, to melt away in the pearly dimness +of the horizon. + +The hush of lingering twilight was over the place, and now and then the +note of a thrush or robin thrilled sweet on the golden-tissued air. +But from the vine-draped door of the low stone dairy came sounds less +inviting, uttered by Aunt Penine, the widowed sister-in-law and +housekeeper of Joseph Devereux, as she goaded her maids at their +evening work. + +In sharp contrast with her, both as to person and manner, was her +invalid sister Lettice, who was sitting on the porch before the open +door, with little 'Bitha, her orphaned grandchild, hanging lovingly +about her. + +Opposite these sat Joseph Devereux, smoking his evening pipe; and +crouched on the stone step, her curly head resting against his knee, +was Dorothy, now gentle and subdued. + +There was an irresistible charm about the girl's wilfulness that +blended perfectly with the sacred innocence of her childish nature. +She was impetuous, laughter-loving, and somewhat spoiled; but she was +possessed of a high spirit, strong courage, and a pure, tender heart. + +Her father's idol and chief companion she had always been since, in his +sixtieth-odd year, she was laid in his strong arms,--vigorous as those +of a man half his own age. And he was looking into her baby face, so +like his own, when he heard that she was all he had left of his +faithful wife. + +He had lost many children; and such sorrow, softening still more a +never hard heart, had made him dotingly fond of those left to him,--his +twenty-seven-year-old son John and the wilful Dot. + +The girl's education had been beyond that of most maids in those times, +as had also that of her only friend, Mary Broughton; and for much the +same reason. Both girls had been carefully trained by their fathers; +and Aunt Penine, at Nicholson Broughton's request, had taught Mary +housewifery in all its branches, at the same time she was undertaking +the like portion of her niece's education. + +But this was an art in which Mary far exceeded Dot; and Aunt Penine +lectured her niece unceasingly, while seeming to find nothing but +praise for Mary's efforts. + +It was pretty sure to be something of this sort: "Dorothy, Dorothy! +Ye'll ne'er be a good butter-maker; ye beat it so, the grain will be +broke. Why cannot ye take it this way?" and Aunt Penine would show +her. "See how fine Mary does it! Ye have too hot a hand." + +Dot would give her head a toss, and remind her aunt that it was not she +herself who had the fashioning of her small hand, nor the regulating of +its temperature. And then Aunt Penine would be very sure to go to her +brother-in-law with complainings of his daughter's disrespectful +tongue, and it would end in Dot being persuaded by her father to beg +Aunt Penine's pardon, which she would do in a meek tone, but with a +suspicious sparkle in her eyes. And after that she was very likely to +be found at the stables, saddling her own mare, Brown Bess, for a wild +gallop off over the country. + +Aunt Penine was one who never seemed to remember that she had ever been +young herself; and this made her all the more unbending in her +disapproval of Dorothy's flow of spirits, and of the indulgence shown +her by her father. + +She was now coming across the grass from the dairy,--a tall, lithe +figure, from which all the roundness of youth (had she ever possessed +anything so weak) had given way to the spareness of middle age. Her +hair, still plentiful, was of a dull, lustreless black; her complexion +sallow, with paler cheeks, somewhat fallen in; and she had a pair of +small gray eyes that seemed like twinkling lights set either side a +very long, sharp nose. + +Her gown was now pinned up around her like that of a fishwife; a white +cap surmounted her severe head, and her brown arms were bare above the +elbows, where she had rolled her sleeves. She well knew that her +brother-in-law in no wise approved of her going about in such a +fashion; but this was only an added reason for her doing so. + +There was a silken rustling of doves' wings, as the flock scattered +from in front of her on the grass, where, obedient to Dorothy's call, +they had come like a cloud from the dove-cote perched high on a pole +near by. + +"Joseph," she cried, sending her shrill voice ahead of her as she +walked along, "do you know that the last two new Devonshires have +either strayed or been stolen?" + +"So Trent told me." He spoke very calmly, letting several seconds +intervene between question and answer, puffing his pipe meanwhile, +while the fingers of one hand rested amongst the curly, fragrant locks +lying against his knee. + +"Told you! Then why, under the canopy, did n't ye tell _me_?" she +demanded, as she now stood on the stone flagging in front of the +veranda, her arms akimbo, while she peered at him with her little +twinkling eyes. + +He looked at her gravely, and as if thinking, but made no reply. + +Her eyes fell, and she seemed embarrassed, for she said in a lower +tone, and by way of explanation: "Because, you see, Joseph, I cannot +look after the pans o' milk properly, if I know not how many cows there +be to draw from. There was less milk by twenty pans, this e'en; and I +was suspecting the new maid we've taken from over Oakum Bay way of +making off with it for her own folk, when Pashar came in and said he +was to go with Trent, to hunt for the missing Devonshires. And that +was the first I'd heard of any strayed cattle." + +"And even had they not been missing, Penine, you had no right to think +such evil o' the stranger," Joseph Devereux said reprovingly. "'T is a +queer fashion, it seems to me, for a Christian woman to be so ready as +you ever seem to be for thinking harsh things o' folk you may happen +not to know well. Strangers are no more like to do evil than friends, +say I." + +He now handed his pipe to Dot, who rapped the ashes out on the ground +and returned it to him. He thanked the girl with the same courtesy he +would have shown an utter stranger, while Aunt Penine, looking very +much subdued, turned about and went back to the dairy. + +Joseph Devereux was still a handsome man, with a dark, intellectual +face, framed in a halo of silvery hair, worn long, as was the fashion, +and confined by a black ribbon. About his throat was wrapped snowy +linen lawn, fine as a cobweb, and woven on his own hand-looms by the +women of his house, as was also that of the much ruffled shirt showing +from the front of a buff waistcoat, gold-buttoned. + +The same color was repeated in his top-boots, that came up to meet the +breeches of dark cloth, fastened at the knee with steel buckles. + +His tall figure was but slightly bowed; and there was a mixture of +haughtiness and softness in his manner, very far removed from +provincial brusqueness, and belonging rather to the days and +surrounding of his ancestors than to the time in which he lived. + +John, his son, was a more youthful picture of the father, but with a +freer display of temper,--this due, perhaps, to his fewer years. But +father and son were known alike for kindly and generous deeds, and as +possessing a high ideal of truth and justice. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +"Do you suppose, Joseph, that Jack will have had his supper?" + +Aunt Lettice asked the question a little anxiously, as she drew about +her shoulders the soft shawl that little 'Bitha's impetuous clasping +had somewhat disarranged. + +"Aye; I think the lad is sure to have taken it at the inn." His voice +was very gentle, as it always was when he addressed her. + +"There he is!" shouted 'Bitha. And she darted down the steps to wave +frantic arms at two horsemen coming up the wooded way to the house, +while Dot lifted her head from her father's knee, as he now sat more +erect in his chair. + +"Have a care, 'Bitha, or we may run you down," called out John +Devereux, laughingly. And at this the little maiden made haste to +speed back to the porch. + +It was Hugh Knollys who accompanied him,--a stalwart, broad-chested +young fellow of twenty-five or six, with blunt features and a not +over-handsome face. But for all this he had an irresistible magnetism +for those who knew him; and no one could ever associate evil or untruth +with his frank, keen-glancing gray eyes and clean-cut, smiling lips. + +"Good-evening, Hugh, and welcome," said Joseph Devereux, rising to +extend a friendly hand as the young man came up the steps. + +Hugh removed his hat and nodded to Dorothy, glancing at her askance as +she arose and with a demure greeting passed him and went to her +brother, who was now giving some orders to old Leet. + +"Jack," she whispered imploringly, under cover of the talk going on in +the porch,--"Jack, tell me, please, that you will not speak to father +of Mary and me seeing Moll Pitcher this afternoon." + +He looked at her smilingly, and then took her chin in his fingers and +gave her head a gentle shake, in a way he had of doing. + +"If I do as you ask, will you promise not to go over to that part of +the town again without telling me first, and then not to go unless I +say you may?" + +"Yes, yes," she answered eagerly. + +"Well, then, 't is a bargain." With this he put an arm around her, and +they turned toward the house. + +"Did Mary go home?" he asked, as they walked slowly along. + +"Yes; but she is coming soon to stop with us, as her father is to go to +Boston on business of some sort." + +"He is like to go this very night," the young man said. + +"This very night!" Dorothy echoed. "Why, then, Mary might have come +home with me, as I wished. But how do you know that, Jack?" + +"Never mind now," was his evasive answer. "You will hear all about it +later." + +They were now at the porch, and his father, who had been conversing +earnestly with young Knollys, said: "Hugh tells me that ye both had +supper at the inn. So come within, Jack,--come, both o' ye, and let us +talk over certain matters of importance. Hugh will stop with us for +the night; and, Dot, do you go and tell your Aunt Penine, so that his +room may be prepared." And leading the way, the old gentleman went +inside, followed by his son and their guest. + +"Grandame," asked 'Bitha, as Dorothy arose and went in quest of Aunt +Penine, "what did Hugh Knollys mean by his talk to Uncle Joseph just +now, of the King's soldiers at Salem?" The child spoke in an awed +voice, drawing closer to the old lady, and looking up at her with +startled eyes. + +Aunt Lettice tried to give her delicate features a properly severe cast +as she answered, "Hush, 'Bitha! you should not listen to matters not +meant for your hearing." + +"But I've heard it before, grandame," 'Bitha persisted. "Johnnie +Strings said the same thing, this afternoon, to Dot and Mary Broughton. +He said the soldiers were coming all over here, clear to the shore, and +that we best have guns ready to shoot them." + +Aunt Lettice's expression had now become really severe, for she still +had the old-time reverence for King and Parliament dwelling in her +heart. + +"Johnnie Strings is seditious and rebellious, to speak so of His +Gracious Majesty's army," she said with marked disapproval; "and he +shall sell no more of his wares to me, if he goes about the country +talking in such fashion. But you must have mistaken his meaning, +child." + +But 'Bitha shook her small head wilfully, in a way to remind one of her +cousin Dorothy, and took herself off to the charms of the kitchen +regions, where old Tyntie was ever ready to listen to her prattle, and +tell her charming tales when work was out of the way. + +And this is how 'Bitha came to know that the bright green spots showing +here and there in the meadows were the rings made by the dancing feet +of the Star-sisters, when they came down in a great ball of light from +their home in the sky, striking the ball about as they danced, and +causing it to give forth most ravishing music. + +And Tyntie told her, also, that the flitting will-o'-the-wisp lights +that showed on dark nights over the farthest away marsh-lands were the +wandering souls of Indian warriors, watching to keep little children +from getting lost or frightened; that the cry of the whippoorwill was +the lament of Munomene-Keesis, the Spirit of the Moon, over +dead-and-gone warriors vanquished by the white men; that the wild winds +coming from the sea were Pawatchecanawas, breathing threatenings for +bad men and their ships; and that the frogs hopping about in the cool +dusk were all little Iiche, with a magic jewel in their ugly heads. + +All this was imparted as they sat out on the great stumps of hewn-down +trees, while the twilight gathered and the stars came out in the vault +overhead, and the two were at a safe distance from Aunt Penine's +practical bustling and sharp tongue. + +For Aunt Penine ruled the household with a veritable "rod of iron;" and +her courtly and calm-voiced brother-in-law was the only mortal to whom +she had ever been known to show deference of manner or speech. + +She had gone within, and the maids with her. The dairy was closed for +the night, and Dorothy had returned to the porch, where she was now +seated in her father's favorite chair. + +"Aunt Lettice," she said presently, "what think you all these queer +things mean? Mary Broughton said we might have a war; and there seems +a great lot for the men folk to be having meetings over, and secret +talk about." + +"I know no more than you, Dorothy, but I wish it was all over, and that +I might have my tea once more; I miss it sadly." + +"Why," exclaimed Dorothy, looking greatly surprised, "there is tea in +the house, Aunt Lettice! I thought it was not made for you because you +did not care for it." + +"Indeed I do care for it very much," said the little old lady; and she +sighed wistfully. "But Penine said there was to be no more tea, as +your father had forbidden it." + +"Well, some one is drinking it," Dorothy asserted with positiveness, +"for I found a small potful of tea in the store-closet this very +morning." + +"Are you sure, my dear?" Aunt Lettice asked wonderingly. + +"Of course I am sure, for I smelled it; and as I detest the odor, I +looked to see what it came from. And I know as well that there is a +big canful of tea there, for I caught the lace of my sleeve on the lid +last Sabbath day, as I reached to get the sugar to put on 'Bitha's +bread. Aunt Penine must know it is there." + +"Penine is very fond of her tea." Aunt Lettice sighed again, and this +time rather suggestively. + +"Well," said Dorothy, her fiery spirit all aglow, "if she be such a pig +as to make it for herself when she lets you have none, I shall find +out, and tell my father of her doings." + +"My dear, my dear, you should not speak so," the gentle old lady +protested, but with only feeble remonstrance. It was evident that +Dorothy's words had put the matter in a new light. + +"Now, Aunt Lettice," continued Dorothy, as she straightened her small +figure in the chair, "you know that Aunt Penine often treats you with +hard-hearted selfishness, and then next minute she will be reading her +good books and trying to look pious. I never want to be her sort of +good,--never! And while I live, she shall not treat you so any more. +I shall tell father to ask her about the tea, I warrant you." + +Before Aunt Lettice could reply to this impetuous speech, a coach drove +up, its lamps showing like glow-worms in the gathering dusk. In it +were Nicholson Broughton and Mary; and Dorothy rushed down the steps to +welcome her friend as though they had been parted for weeks. + +While the new-comers were alighting, Leet came up to show the coachman +the way to the stables; and then the two girls went directly to the +porch, while Broughton himself tarried to give some low-spoken orders +to his servant. + +The sound of the carriage wheels had brought John Devereux quickly to +the porch, while his father and Hugh Knollys followed after, the +younger man walking slowly, in deference to the slight lameness of his +host. + +"Ah, neighbor Broughton, you are just the man we were wishing for. +Heartily welcome!" And Joseph Devereux clasped the other man's hand, +while John turned away with his sister and Mary Broughton. + +They were joined a moment later by Hugh Knollys; and John Devereux, as +though suspecting a possible rival, watched keenly his blunt, honest +face as he took the small hand Mary extended. But there was naught in +Hugh's look to alarm him, nor in the quiet greeting Mary gave his +friend. + +Dorothy now drew his attention. "Jack," she asked earnestly, "did you +warn Hugh not to speak aught of this afternoon?" But Hugh answered her +question by a slight laugh, accompanied by a comprehending nod. + +"Oh, Dot," said Mary, with gentle reproach, "you should not deceive +your father in this way." + +Dorothy raised her head as though she had been struck, and drew herself +up to the full limit of her small stature. + +"Indeed, Mary, I intend to do no such thing," she replied almost +aggressively. "'T is only that I wish to tell him all about it myself, +and in my own fashion." + +Here her father's voice broke in. "Come, John,--come, Hugh,--come +inside, with neighbor Broughton and me. We will get our matters +settled as soon as may be, while the girls visit with Aunt Lettice. +But ye must all come within; 't is getting much too damp and cold to +stop longer out o' the house." + +He drove them in before him and closed the door, shutting out the roar +of the surf along the shore, as it mingled with the shrilling of the +dry-voiced insects in the grasses and woods. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +It was the dining-room of the house wherein the four men sat in earnest +consultation; and now that they were alone, their faces were grave to +solemnity. + +The oak-ceiled and wainscoted room was filled with lurking shadows in +the far corners, where the light from the candles did not penetrate; +and the inside shutters of stout oak were closed and bolted over the +one great window, along which ran a deep cushioned seat. + +Joseph Devereux sat by the mahogany table, whose black polish reflected +the lights, mirror-like, and--but more dully--the yellow brass of the +candlesticks. His elbow was resting upon the smooth wood, his hand +supporting his head; and in the light of the candle burning near, his +face looked unusually stern. + +His son sat opposite, his face mostly in shadow, as he lay back in his +chair and thrummed the table with his slender brown fingers. + +At either side sat Nicholson Broughton and Hugh Knollys, the former +looking stern and troubled as he smoked his long pipe, while the +younger man's face held but little of its usual light-hearted +expression. His hands were thrust deep in his breeches' pockets, and +he whistled softly now and then in an absent-minded way. + +"Aye, 't is a grave state of affairs, Broughton," Joseph Devereux was +saying. "I love not oppression, nor tyrannical dealing. And yet, +think you that ever was a petty tyrant overthrown, and the instruments +of his punishment could always escape a pricking o' the conscience, +that made it not easy for them to look back upon their own share in his +downfall? Shall the time come, I wonder, when we must question the +truth o' this inspiration we are now acting under as a town and as a +country?" + +"Nay, say I,--never!" exclaimed Broughton, with fiery ardor. "Being +human, we must all feel sympathy for suffering, be it in enemy or +friend. But our land is lost, and we nothing better than slaves, did +we longer submit to the tyranny of the mother country. As God bade +Moses of old lead the children of Israel from the bondage and cruel +injustice of Pharaoh, so we should feel that He now bids us, as men +with a country, and as fathers with families to cherish and protect, to +rise up and assert our manhood, and to assure our freedom, even though +it be by as fierce a war as ever was waged." + +"And war there's bound to be!" It was Hugh Knollys who said this, and +he seemed to look more cheery at the thought. + +Joseph Devereux glanced at him sharply, and then turned to his son. + +"You say, Jack," he asked, "that Strings said the Governor was to order +a body o' soldiers down to the Neck?" + +"Yes, sir--and that right away." + +At this, Nicholson Broughton spoke up, looking at his host. + +"As I was saying to you awhile back, neighbor Devereux, the committee +ordered to Boston, to decide upon delegates, must get a start from town +before the redcoats get into quarters upon the Neck, or there may be +trouble which it were as well to avoid. This was decided upon when we +met at the Fountain Inn, this afternoon; and 't was agreed that all who +go from here should take the road to Boston before to-morrow's dawn. +John and Hugh, here, reckon on going along with us, to meet Brattle in +Boston, for he has sent word that he is to sail the day after to-morrow +with a shipload of supplies ordered down by the Governor for the +soldiery at Salem. This will be a fine opportunity for smuggling down +the firearms and powder which have been hid so long in Boston, waiting +the chance for safe conveyance here." + +Before Joseph Devereux could speak, his son broke in eagerly: "Hugh and +I will come down with Brattle, and we'll lie off at anchor, as near our +own shore as may be. Some one must be ready to give us the signal from +the land; and if all is safe, we can put the guns and powder ashore and +hide them. This will be the safest plan, for about Great Bay the +soldiers will be on the lookout for anything unwonted; and in Little +Harbor it will be as bad, for they will have their eyes wide open to +keep a sharp watch upon the Fountain Inn, and all about it--be it on +land or water." + +"You say truly, Jack," his father assented, "But whom can we trust to +give the signal? Ah," with a sigh, "if only I had back a few of my own +lost years, or was not so lame!" + +"Brains can serve one's land, friend Devereux, as well, oftentimes +better, than arms," said Broughton, looking at his host's massive head +and intelligent features. "We all have our appointed work to do, and +no man is more capable than you of doing his share." + +"I pray it maybe so," was the reply. "But, be it much or little, all I +have and am are at the service of our cause." + +"Why not let Dorothy be the one to give the signal?" asked Hugh +Knollys, as from a sudden inspiration. + +"Just the one," said John Devereux, looking over at his father. "She +fears nothing, and can be relied upon in such a matter." + +The old gentleman seemed a bit reluctant, and sat silent for a few +moments. Then speaking to his son, he said: "Call the child in. This +is no time to hold back one's hand from the doing of aught that be +needful to help the cause of our land." + +It was not many minutes before Dorothy came into the room behind her +brother; and her eyes opened wider than ever as their quick glance took +in the solemn conclave about the table. + +Her father stretched out an inviting hand. "Come here, Dot," he said +smilingly. "Do not look so frightened, my baby." And he patted her +small hand in a loving way as he drew her close beside him. + +"No," added Hugh mischievously, his face having now regained its usual +jollity, "we are not going to eat you, Dorothy." + +She deigned him no reply, not even a glance, but stood silently beside +her father, while she looked questioningly into her brother's face. + +He explained in a few words the matter in hand; and the flash of her +eyes, together with the smile that touched the upturned corners of her +mouth, told how greatly to her liking was the duty to which she had +been assigned. + +Jack had scarce finished speaking, when there was an interruption, in +the person of Aunt Penine, who entered bearing a tray, upon which were +tumblers and a bowl of steaming punch. + +She shot a glance of marked disapproval at Dorothy; then, as she placed +the tray upon the table in front of her brother-in-law, she said in a +tone of acidity, "Were it not better, think you, Joseph, that the girl +went into the other room and stopped with Lettice and Mary Broughton?" + +Dorothy turned her eyes defiantly upon the elder woman, her soft brows +suggesting the frown that came to her father's face as he said with +grave severity: "The child is here, Penine, because I sent for her. +Let the punch be as it is--and leave us, please." + +She tossed her head belligerently, and without speaking took her +departure, casting a far from friendly look at the others. + +"I strongly suspect, father," said John, as he rose and crossed the +room to close the door his aunt, either by accident or intent, had left +ajar, "that we'd best have a care how we let Aunt Penine hear aught of +our affairs. Her sympathies are very sure to be with the other side, +if the struggle comes to blows." + +"I will see to Penine," his father answered quietly. "Do you go on +instructing Dot as to what she is to do." + +His son bowed, and turned once more to the girl. + +"And so, Dot, as I've said already, you must reckon surely upon the +vessel lying off the beach in a straight line with the Sachem's Cave, +on Friday night, at about eleven o'clock. And this being Monday, will +give four days, which will be time enough to allow for all that's to be +done. But you must watch, child, even if it prove later in the night, +or even in the morning, before we arrive. And when you see a light +showing, then disappearing, then two lights, and then three, you must +answer from the shore if all be well, and 't is safe to land, by +showing two lights, and then letting them burn for us to steer by. +Mount as high as you can to the uppermost level above the cave, so that +we may get a good view of your signal. Can you keep all this in that +small head of yours?" And he smiled at her, as though some happy +outing were being planned. + +She nodded quickly, but with a grave face; then, after a moment's +hesitation, she asked, "May I tell Mary?" + +Her brother's eyes dropped, as Hugh Knollys flashed a laughing glance +upon him. But her father replied at once: "Aye, it were best to do so. +And if neighbor Broughton has no objections, it were more prudent that +she should be your companion." + +"Not I!" responded Broughton heartily, raising to his lips the glass of +punch his host had been dispensing from the bowl in front of him. "But +be over-careful, Dorothy, as to who may be about to overhear what you +say to her. And"--his voice growing very grave--"may God keep you +both, for two brave, right-hearted girls." + +"Amen!" said Joseph Devereux. And he lifted his glass to the others, +as though pledging them and the great cause they all had so devoutly at +heart. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +When Dorothy left the dining-room, it was by a door opposite that by +which Aunt Penine had made her angry exit,--one leading to the +storerooms and kitchen. + +The one through which Dorothy went opened directly upon a small +platform, whose flight of three steps descended into the main hall, +which was part of the original building, and was now lighted dimly by a +ship's lantern swinging from the low dark-wood ceiling, or +"planchement." + +A pair of handsome antlers were fixed against the wall about midway +down the passage, and underneath these was a long mahogany table, piled +with a miscellaneous collection of whips, hats, and riding-gloves. + +Directly opposite hung the family arms, placed there more than a +hundred years before by the hands of John Devereux, the "Emigrant," as +he was called. They were: Arg., a fesse, gu., in chief three torteaux. +Crest;--out of a ducal coronet, or, a talbots head, arg., eared, gu. +And the motto was "Basis Virtutum Constantia." + +Other than this the long, wide hall was bare of furnishing. + +Dorothy came out with her usual impetuous rush, and closing the door +quickly behind her, was startled by seeing a form rise, as it seemed, +from the platform, and then, as if retreating hastily, stumble and fall +down the steps. + +The girl looked with astonishment, and saw Aunt Penine prostrate upon +the floor of the hall, her upturned face pale and distorted, as with +pain. + +It was quite evident that she had been eavesdropping; and Dorothy +remained at the head of the steps regarding her scornfully for a +moment, before asking if she were hurt. + +"Yes, I have done somewhat to my ankle, drat it!" gasped the sufferer, +but in a low voice, as if fearful of attracting the attention of those +on the other side of the door. + +"Shall I call Jack?" Dorothy inquired, a faint smile of sarcasm +touching her lips; and she made a movement as though to reopen the door. + +"No, no,--oh no!" exclaimed Aunt Penine in great alarm, as she +endeavored to regain her feet. + +This she at length succeeded in doing, and stood with one hand against +the wall, while she groaned, but in a suppressed way. + +Just then Mary Broughton came from a room farther down the hall, where +she had been delighting Aunt Lettice with soft melodies drawn from the +spinet, upon which both she and Dorothy were skilful performers. + +"What is it--is anything amiss?" she asked quickly, coming up to Aunt +Penine, and laying a hand on her trembling shoulder. + +But Aunt Penine only continued to groan dismally, while her niece, with +a laugh she did not try to hide, now came down the steps. + +"Aunt Penine was evidently anxious to be of my father's council," she +said to Mary; "and I chanced to open the door too quickly for her, so +that she slipped down the steps and has twisted her ankle." + +Her aunt straightened herself and glanced angrily at the girl, who only +laughed again, while Mary Broughton stood regarding her with a puzzled +look. + +"Shall I help you to your room, Aunt Penine?" Dorothy asked with +elaborate politeness, holding out her arm. + +"No," snapped her aunt. "I wish no assistance from you, whose sharp +tongue seems ever ready with insult for your elders. Mary will help +me; and ye may find Tyntie, and send her to my room." With this she +hobbled away, leaning heavily upon Mary, who looked back reproachfully +at Dorothy. + +But Dot only laughed again, as she turned and went to a door at the end +of the hall which communicated with a side passage leading to the +servants' quarters; then, having summoned Tyntie, she came back and +seated herself upon a lower step of the main staircase to await Mary's +coming. + +Her friend's first words were full of reproof. "Oh, Dot, how could you +seem so heartless?" she said. "You should see Aunt Penine's foot; 't +is swollen fearfully, and her ankle is discolored." + +"If you but knew how it came about, Mary, perhaps you'd be less ready +to scold me," Dorothy replied, making room on the step. "There are +weighty matters being talked of in the dining-room yonder, and I was to +tell you what Jack took me in for. Aunt Penine came in with the punch +while I was there, and she tried to have me sent away. She was angry +that father would not do this, but bade her mind her business and let +me alone. When I opened the door just now, she was trying to listen to +what they were saying, and I came out so suddenly as to frighten her, +so that she stumbled and hurt herself. I am sorry she is hurt; but if +it had befallen me, she'd have been ready enough to say I'd but +received my just deserts." + +"Why should she try to listen at the door?" asked Mary with surprise, +as she twisted one of Dorothy's short curls about her slender fingers. +But Dorothy gave her head an unruly toss, to release the curl, as she +had ever a dislike for being fondled or touched in any way, unless it +were by her father or brother. + +"There is really to be a war, and that soon," she replied. "The +soldiers, they say, are coming down to the Neck in a few days--perhaps +even to-morrow; and the people propose--and rightly, too--to fight +them, if needs be, should they try to interfere with our doings. Aunt +Penine sides with the English, I take it from what I've heard her say; +and I know for a surety she has been slyly making tea to drink, for all +that father has forbidden it. He and Aunt Lettice miss their tea as +much as ever she does herself, and yet they have never touched a drop. +I intend to tell him to-morrow that I know of a canful of tea in the +store-closet. I was talking with Aunt Lettice about it when you came +this evening. She supposed there was not a grain of it in the house, +and I am sure father has been thinking the same. Aunt Penine is +deceitful and disloyal to him--and so I shall tell him, if I live, +to-morrow morning." + +"Whatever did she expect to hear, that she did so mean and dishonorable +a thing as to listen at the keyhole?" Mary spoke musingly, a fine +scorn now touching her lips, and it was clear that her sympathy for the +afflicted one was greatly dampened. + +"Perhaps she intends to play spy, as she disapproves so entirely of the +feeling the townsfolk all have. Spies are well paid, so I've heard; +and Aunt Penine would do anything for money." Dorothy's eyes flashed, +and she stared straight ahead, pulling at her front locks in an +absent-minded way, as though she were speculating over all the mischief +her aunt might have in view. + +"She may mean nothing, after all, Dot," Mary said, after a moment's +thought. "It may be that she was only curious to know why you were +admitted to the room, while she and all the rest of us were kept out. +Still, if I were you, I'd tell my father of her listening." + +"Indeed I shall," was the emphatic reply, "and of the tea as well. I +have a notion she got it all from Robert Jameson. You know what they +tell of him; and he and Aunt Penine seem to have a deal to say to one +another these days. She has sent Pashar to him with notes ever so many +times, as I know; and Pashar seems to have more silver nowadays than +father gives him, for he has, more than once, brought 'Bitha sweets +from the store." + +Mary nodded significantly at the mention of Robert Jameson's name. He +was the nearest neighbor of Joseph Devereux, and had come to be +regarded with distrust--enmity, indeed--by most of his former +associates. + +He was a widower of some wealth, and had no family; and Aunt Penine had +long been suspected of cherishing a desire to entrap him into a second +matrimony. + +A few months before, an exceedingly complimentary, almost fulsome, +address to Hutchinson, the recent Governor, had appeared in the columns +of a newspaper known as the "Essex Gazette," to which were attached the +names of some residents of the town, Jameson's amongst them. It +endorsed all that had been said in praise of his administration, and of +his aiming only at the public good; and it asserted that such was the +opinion of all thinking and dispassionate citizens. + +This manifest untruth had raised a storm of indignation. A town +meeting was held, and a committee appointed, with instructions to +inform the signers of this false and malicious statement that they +would be exonerated only by making a public retraction of all +sentiments contained therein; and that upon refusing to do this, they +would be denounced as enemies of the province, desiring to insult both +branches of the legislature, and to affront the town. + +Jameson had been one of the few who refused to comply with the +committee's demand; and he had since been shunned as an enemy to the +cause, and looked upon with suspicion and distrust. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +The household was astir early the next morning to set the travellers on +their road with a warm meal and a parting word; and despite the absence +of Aunt Penine, all the domestic machinery moved as smoothly as usual. + +There could still be seen a few stars, not yet blotted out by the +pearly haze, shot with palest blue, that the dawn was putting in front +of them. + +Over the sea hung a curtain-like gathering of fog, and the air was +heavy with the odors from the wood and fern, brought forth by the damp. + +Nicholson Broughton, having borrowed a saddle from his host, had +decided to pursue the remainder of his journey on horseback; and he, +with his two younger companions, was now about to set forth. + +Mary stood near her father's horse, while he gave her some parting +words of encouragement. + +"Now bear in mind, Pigsney, all I have said, and never fail to keep a +watchful eye and stout heart. All at the house will go well until my +return; and do you abide here, safe and close, with our good friends. +Be sure to keep away from the town, and whether the Britishers come to +the Neck or no, you will be safe." + +She promised all this, and turned away as he rode off, waving a +farewell to his host, who stood within the porch, with Aunt Lettice and +little 'Bitha alongside him. + +Hugh Knollys followed, with a gay good-by to all, while John Devereux, +who had been talking with Dorothy, now vaulted into his saddle. + +As he was about to start, Mary Broughton passed along in her slow walk +to the house. She turned, and their eyes met in a look that told of a +mutual understanding. But she flushed a little, while he only smiled, +doffing his hat as he rode slowly past her down the driveway. + +Dorothy was waiting, close to her father, on the porch. + +"Don't you wish you were a man, Mary," she said, as her friend came up +the steps, "so that you could ride away to do battle for our rights, +instead of being only a woman, to stop at home and wonder and worry +over matters, while the baking and churning must be done day after day?" + +Her father smiled at this, and pinched Dorothy's cheek; then a sadness +came to his face as he looked at her. + +"To be a woman does not always mean the doing of over-much baking or +housework," said Mary, with a meaning smile, her cheeks fresher and her +blue eyes brighter, like the flowers, from the pure morning air. + +Joseph Devereux nodded an assent. "If you and Mary," he said to +Dorothy, "were to ride to Boston this day, who would there be to do +what you are entrusted with the doing on? Mark ye, my daughter," and +he bent a grave look upon her bright face, "women, as well as men, have +high and holy duties to perform,--aye, indeed, some of them even +higher. Where would come the nerve and hope for the proper ambition o' +men's minds, were there no mothers and wives and--sweethearts, to make +their lives worth the living, and their homes worth fighting for,--yes, +and their country so much more worth saving from oppression. Nay, my +baby, what would become o' your old father, if he had not a little maid +to console him, when his only son must needs face risks and dangers?" + +Dorothy did not answer, but her face softened, and her arm stole up +about his neck. + +"Dot," said Mary, presently, "do not forget the matter we talked of +last evening,--that your father was to know." + +"And pray, what is that?" the old gentleman asked briskly. + +"Come into the library, father, with Mary and me, and we will tell +you." And slipping her hand around his arm, she started to lead him +in. Mary was about to follow, when he turned to her and held out his +other arm. With an answering smile she placed her hand within it, and +all three went inside. + +Aunt Lettice had gone off to her own apartments, taking 'Bitha for her +usual morning instructing, and so they were not likely to be disturbed. + +As soon as her father was seated, Dorothy, standing by the window, +burst forth with her accustomed vehemence. + +"I want to tell you, father," she exclaimed, "that I am sure Aunt +Penine is a loyalist!" + +"Chut, chut!" he replied reprovingly. But he smiled, used as he was to +the differences betwixt his daughter and her exacting relative. + +"I have good reason for what I say," Dorothy insisted; "and Mary can +tell you so, as well." + +"Well, child, first tell me all about it, and do not begin by misnaming +any one," her father said gently. + +She told him in a few rapid words,--first, what had happened the +evening before, and ending by a detailed account of finding the tea in +the store-closet. + +Her father was scowling ominously by the time the story was finished; +and he sat in silence for a few moments, his head bent, as though +considering what she had told him. Then he said: "I thank you, my +child, for what you have told me. I must speak with Penine o' these +matters, and that right away. Do you go, Dot, and tell her I wish to +talk with her, and must do so as soon as she can see me in her room." + +"Why not let Mary go?" Dorothy suggested. "Aunt Penine likes Mary, and +she does not like me--nor I her." And she looked quite belligerent. + +"I will be glad to go, if you say so," Mary offered, rising from her +chair. + +"Well, well," he said, "it matters little to me who goes; only I must +see her at once. And thank you, Mary, child, if you will kindly tell +her so." + +As soon as Mary left the room, Dorothy came over to her father's chair +and perched herself upon one of its oaken arms. + +"And now there is another thing I wish to tell you," she said, "and I'd +best do it now." + +He put an arm about her and smiled up into her troubled face. + +"Well, well," he said playfully, while he smoothed her curls, "what a +wise little head it has grown to be all on a sudden! We shall be +hearing soon that Mistress Dorothy Devereux has been invited by the +great men o' the town--Lee and Orne and Gerry, and the rest o' them--to +be present at their next meeting, and instruct them on matters they wot +not on, despite their age and wisdom." + +She would not smile at his badinage, but went on soberly to warn him of +what she suspected between her Aunt Penine and their ostracized +neighbor, Jameson,--telling him also of the unusual amount of coin +being spent by the boy, Pashar, whom she had seen carrying notes for +her aunt. + +The smile left her father's face as he listened to this, and he shook +his head gravely. And when she finished, he said, as though to +himself, "'T is the enemies in one's own household that are ever the +most dangerous." Then rising, he added, "Come with me, Dot, while I +speak first to Tyntie." + +The old Indian woman had been devoted to the interests of the family +since forty years before, when Joseph Devereux found her--a beaten, +half-starved child of ten--living with her drunken father in a wretched +hut on the outskirts of the town, and brought her to his own house for +his wife to rear and instruct. And because of her idolatrous love for +her benefactor and his family, she had endured patiently the exacting +tyranny of Aunt Penine, whom she detested. + +Her tall, spare figure was now moving about her domain with a curious +dignity inseparable from her Indian birth; but she paused in what she +was doing the moment her master and his daughter appeared at the door, +and remained facing them in respectful silence. + +She was alone, the men having gone off to their duties about the farm, +and the maids to the dairy, or to the housework above stairs. + +"I desire to ask you, Tyntie," her master began, addressing her with +the same grave courtesy he would have used in speaking to the best-born +lady in the land, "if, since I forbade the making or using o' tea in my +house, any has been brewed?" + +"Yes, master," she answered without any hesitancy; and a sly look, as +of revenge, crept into her black eyes. + +"How dared ye do such a thing?" he demanded, his face severe with +indignation. + +"I never did it," was her laconic reply. + +"Then who did? I command ye to make a clean breast o' the matter." +And he struck his stick peremptorily upon the floor, while Dorothy, +awed by the unusual anger showing in his voice and bearing, drew a +little away from him. + +"It was Mistress Penine brewed the tea, for her own drinking." And +Tyntie showed actual pleasure in being thus enabled to expose her +oppressor. + +"And how often hath this happened since I gave strict orders that none +should be had or drunk in this house o' mine?" + +"'Most every day; and sometimes more than once in the day." + +"And how were you guarding your master's interests, to permit such +secret goings on under his roof, without giving him warning?" + +The tears rose to Tyntie's eyes and stood sparkling there; but her +voice was firm as she replied, "It was not for me to know that Mistress +Penine was doing anything wrongful, nor for me, a servant, to come to +you, my master, with evil reports o' your own kinsfolk." + +She spoke slowly and with calm dignity, and her words softened the +white wrath from the old man's face. + +He bent his head for a moment, as though pondering deeply; then he +looked at her and said in a very different tone: "You are a +right-minded, faithful servant, Tyntie, and I must tell you I am sorry +to have spoken as I did a moment agone. But from this day henceforth, +bear in mind that should you ever see aught being done under my roof +that you've heard me forbid, 't is your bounden duty to come and inform +me freely o' such matter." + +"Yes, master." Tyntie now wiped her eyes, and looked very much +comforted. + +"Now," he asked, his voice growing stern once more, "know you where +aught o' the forbidden stuff be kept, or if there still be any in the +house?" + +Tyntie went silently to the store-closet and fetched a sizable can of +burnished copper. This she opened and held toward her master and young +mistress, who saw that it was nearly half filled with the prohibited +tea. + +Joseph Devereux scowled fiercely as he beheld this tangible evidence of +Penine's bad faith and selfishness. + +"Do you take that in your own hands, Tyntie, as soon as may be," he +said; "or no--take it this instant, down to the beach, and throw it, +can and all, into the water. And see to it that you make mention o' +this matter to no one." + +Then turning slowly, he took his way again to the front of the house, +Dorothy following in silence, and feeling unwontedly awed by the +apprehension of the storm she felt was about to break; for it was a +rare matter indeed for Aunt Penine to be the one entirely at fault in +anything. + + + + +CHAPTER X + +Dorothy saw Mary Broughton on the porch outside and was about to join +her, when Mary turned and called out, "Aunt Penine is waiting to see +your father." + +At this Dorothy retraced her steps to the library, where she had left +her father sitting in moody silence, tracing with his stick invisible +writings upon the floor, the iron ferule making angry clickings against +the oaken polish. + +He made no reply to the message she gave him; so, after pausing a +moment, she said again that her aunt was awaiting him. + +"Yes, yes, child; I hear ye," he replied almost impatiently, and as +though not wishing to be disturbed. + +Dorothy said nothing more, but went out and joined Mary, who was +waiting on the porch; and, arm in arm, they strolled out into the +sunshiny morning. + +They had gone but a little way when Dorothy's sharp eyes spied Pashar +coming from a side door of the house. His black hand held something +white, which he was thrusting into the pocket of his jacket. + +She called to him sharply, and he turned his head in her direction, +while his eyes rolled restlessly. But he made no movement to come to +her, and stood motionless, as though awaiting her orders. + +"Come here!" she called peremptorily; but still he hesitated. + +"Do you come here this instant, Pashar, as I bid you," she commanded, +now taking a few steps toward him. + +At this he came forward, but in a halting way, and at length stood +before her, looking very ill at ease. + +"Give me that letter," Dorothy demanded, extending her hand for it. + +"Mist'ess Penine done say--" he began in a hesitating, remonstrative +fashion; but Dorothy cut him short. + +"Give me that letter," she repeated, stamping her small foot, "or +you'll be sorry!" + +Trained like a dumb beast to obedience, the negro boy fumbled in his +pocket and took out a folded paper which he handed to his imperious +young mistress. + +"What'll I say ter Massa Jameson when I sees him?" he asked +tremblingly, as Dorothy's little white fingers closed over the letter. +"He'll lay his ridin'-whip 'bout my shoulders, if I goes ter him now." + +"My father will surely lay _his_ riding-whip about your shoulders, if +you go near Jameson again. I'll see to it myself that you get whipped, +if you dare do such a thing," exclaimed Dorothy; and the angry flashing +of her dark eyes bore witness to her sincerity. + +"Now," she added, "go about your work,--whatever you have to do. And +mind, don't you dare stir a step--no matter who bids you--to Jameson's +place; else you will get into trouble that will make you wish you had +obeyed me." + +With this she turned back with Mary in the direction of the house. + +"Ye won't have me whipped, will ye, mist'ess?" Pashar whimpered, as he +looked after her. "Mist'ess Penine--she tole me I was ter go. An', +'sides, I gets money from Massa Jameson for ev'ry letter I fetches him." + +"I'll see presently about your getting whipped," was Dorothy's +uncomforting reply, as she glanced over her shoulder at the trembling +boy. + +The two girls walked quickly toward the house, while Pashar betook +himself off with a very downcast air, digging his black fists into his +eyes as if he felt only too certain of being punished for his +wrongdoing. + +Joseph Devereux was ascending the stairway, bound for his +sister-in-law's room, when the two girls came in from outside. Dorothy +called quickly, and speeding after him, placed the letter in his hand, +as he paused and turned to face her. + +In a low voice she acquainted him with what she had taken upon herself +to do, adding, "I was fearful of what she might have told him, if +perchance she overheard anything last night of the gunpowder and arms." + +"Wise, trusty little maid," he said, a slow smile touching the gloom of +his set face. "You have acted rightly and with great discretion, Dot. +And now I will see what Penine has to say o' the matters that look so +grave, as we see them." + +Pausing at her closed door, on the left-hand side of the upper passage, +he knocked, and then entered, as her querulous voice, now somewhat +subdued, bade him. + +Penine was lying back on a settle, a bright-hued patchwork of silk +thrown over her spare form; and her eyes showed traces of recent tears. + +Her brother-in-law seated himself in an arm-chair near her, his face +grave to sternness, as he bent a piercing look upon her troubled face. + +She cast a furtive glance at the paper he still held in his hand; then +her eyes fell, and she began to pluck nervously at the edge of the +covering, while her face became filled with an expression of guilty +embarrassment. + +"Penine," he began, in a voice quite low, but full of severity, "these +be times when, as you well know, it behooves a householder to look most +carefully to the doings of those about him. He must see to it that all +appearance, as well as doing, o' wrong be most strictly avoided. And +so I have come to ask you, as one o' my own household, how is it that +you have been brewing tea for yourself, after all that's been done and +said; and how 't is that you have such a supply of the stuff in my +house?" + +Penine flushed angrily, and tried to look him in the eyes, while her +lips half parted, as though to make some retort. Then she seemed to +alter her mind, for she remained silent, her eyes falling guiltily +before his stern, searching gaze. + +"Do not seek to hide your fault by another one--o' falsehood," he +warned her, more sternly than before. "I know what I am accusing you +of to be the truth,--more's the pity. And it surprises and grieves me +that a woman o' such years as you should set a pernicious example to +those who, younger and inferior in station to yourself, look to you for +a proper code of action for their following." + +"What harm is it, I would like to know," she burst out, but weakly, +"that I should drink my tea, if I like?" + +"The harm you do is to defy your country's law, and make me seem +disloyal and false to my word of honor," he replied with increasing +sternness. "And this you have no right to do, while you abide under my +roof." + +"My country's law is the law of His Gracious Majesty," she answered, +plucking up a little spirit, but yet unable to meet his dark, angry +eyes, "and I have never heard that he forbade his loyal subjects all +the tea they could pay for and drink." + +"Do ye mean me to understand that ye set yourself up as the enemy o' +your townsfolk and kindred?" he demanded, his voice rising. "I've +suspected as much since I had knowledge o' the fact o' your sending +notes to Robert Jameson." + +"You have no right to talk to me so, Joseph," she said, with a whimper, +terrified at the angry lighting of his face, now ablaze with wrath. + +"And ye have no right to act in a manner that makes it possible for me +to presume to. If things be not so black against ye as they surely +look, take this note that ye sent my servant with just now, to be +delivered to our country's avowed enemy, and read every word aloud to +me." + +He held the letter toward her; but she made such an eager clutch for it +that a sudden impulse led him to change his mind, and he drew back his +hand. + +"No," he said, "on second thought, 't is best that ye give me permit to +read it myself, aloud." + +"No, no!" she exclaimed almost breathlessly; and the unmistakable +terror in her voice and eyes confirmed him in his determination to see +for himself the contents of the letter. + +"I have to beg your pardon, Penine," he said with formal courtesy, "for +seeming to do a most ungallant act; but your manner only proves to me +what is my duty." + +With this he deliberately broke the seal and ran his eyes over the +paper, while Penine cast one terrified glance at him, and then fell +back, silent and cowering, her ashy face covered by her trembling hands. + +She had written Jameson of the intended landing of the arms and powder. +And Joseph Devereux knew she had done so with a view to having him send +word of the matter to the Governor, hoping in this way to win honor and +reward for the man she expected to lure into speedy wedlock. + +He read the letter once more, and then sat silent, as though pondering +over all her selfish treachery and disloyalty. And while he was thus +musing, the clock on the mantel ticked with painful loudness, and some +flies crawling about the panes of the closed windows buzzed angrily. + +When at length he spoke, his wrath seemed to have given place to pity, +mingled with utter contempt. + +"I can scarce credit, Penine," he said slowly, all trace of anger gone +from his voice, "that you should have realized to the full all you were +doing when you took such a step,--that you were bringing the British +guns down to slay my son, an' like as not my innocent little maid; a +fate which now, thank God, has been kept from them." + +His voice had become husky, and he paused to clear his throat. Then he +resumed, speaking in the same deliberate manner: "Because o' their +deliverance from death I will try and forgive what you have tried to +do; but I must not forget it, lest another such thing befall. And now, +until you be able to travel, you shall be made comfortable here. But +so soon as your ankle can be used, then you shall go to your brother, +in Lynn, for no roof o' mine shall harbor secret enemies to my country. +And," now with more sternness, "I warn you, that should you seek to +hold converse or communication of any sort with this man Jameson while +you are in my house, I shall report the matter to the town committee, +and leave them to settle with you." + +He arose from his chair, and without another glance in her direction +went out of the room, leaving Penine in tears. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +The days intervening until Friday passed without event, and the +household affairs went on much as before, Tyntie proving herself fully +capable of replacing Aunt Penine as head of the domestic regime. + +That lady kept her room, seeing no one except Tyntie and one of the +younger maids. She had refused all overtures extended by her niece and +Mary Broughton; and so, by the advice of the head of the house, they +left her to herself. + +Even Aunt Lettice was refused admittance by her sister, and refrained +from seeking it a second time after being informed by Joseph Devereux +of the recent occurrences. + +The gentle old lady now went about the house in a sad, subdued fashion, +secretly debating as to whether she would decide against King or +Colony, but carefully keeping her thoughts from being known to others. + +Johnnie Strings had kept his word to Dorothy, and brought the ribbon +and lace. Aunt Lettice had paid him for the goods she purchased, +making no response when he said, as he strapped his pack, "The +Britishers be quartered on the Neck, ma'am,--landed there this very +mornin'. The reg'lars,--they came down by ships from Salem; an' a +troop o' dragoons be ridin' over to join 'em." + +It was Mary Broughton who asked, "What are they come there for, +Johnnie,--do you know?" + +"Any one can guess, mistress, I take it," he replied significantly, +busying himself with the buckles. + +"And what do you guess, Johnnie?" asked Dorothy, who was examining a +sampler 'Bitha was working, which was to announce,-- + + "Tabitha Hollis is my name, + New England is my nation, + Marblehead is my dwelling-place, + And Christ is my Salvation." + + +Johnnie Strings finished his work with the straps and buckles; then +raising himself from the floor, he said jocosely: "Now, Mistress +Dorothy, surely ye don't care to burden your mind with matters o' +state. Whatever they be come down for, 't is a true fact that the +redcoats be on the Neck,--a hundred or more of 'em. An' as I was +tellin' ye but t'other day, ye'd best keep at home till they be called +away again." + +This was Thursday; and Friday morning the two girls, with 'Bitha, were +down in the Sachem's Cave, a small opening that ran, chasm-like, into +the rocks a few feet above the level of the sea, with a natural roof +projecting over it. + +Within was a sandy floor,--whether or not the work of man, none living +could say. It was studded with shells, placed there by childish hands, +and the cave had served as playhouse for many generations of boys and +girls. + +The opening was hung about with a lace-like weed, wherein some drops of +water were now sparkling in the morning sunshine; and beyond, +stretching away to the horizon, could be seen the sea. + +The waves creeping in against the shore broke with gentle plashings as +they touched the rocky base of the headlands; a wonderful serenity lay +over the face of the earth, and all between the land and horizon seemed +a blank and dreaming space of water. + +"We are sure to have a fine night," Dorothy had just said, as she +looked out at the sea and sky. + +"H-m-m," murmured Mary, warningly, and with a quick glance at 'Bitha, +who seemed to be poring intently over a small book she had taken from +her pocket. + +"What are you reading, 'Bitha?" Dorothy asked; and the little girl came +close beside her. + +It was Aunt Lettice's "Church Book;" and on the titlepage was:-- + + "A NEW VERSION OF + the + PSALMS + of + DAVID, + fitted to the Tunes ufed in the Churches: + With feveral Hymns + Out of the + Old and New Teftaments. + By John Barnard, + Paftor of a Church in Marblehead." + + +In the back part of the book was the music of several tunes such as +were used at that time in the churches; and amongst them was one known +as + +"Marblehead." + +[Illustration: music score] + +* Copied literally from publication "printed by J. Draper for T. +Leverett in Cornhill 1752." + + +Good Parson Barnard had years since been laid away in his grave on the +old Burial Hill, which rose higher than all the land about, as though +Nature were seeking to lift as near as might be to the skies the dead +committed to her care. + +The quaint child seemed to delight in pondering over these hymns, many +of which were past her comprehending; and the long s, so like an f, led +her to make many curious blunders when trying to repeat the words,--a +thing she was always proud to be asked to do. + +Once she had insisted upon being told why it was that saints must have +"fits;" and it appeared that she had misread the long s in the +sentence, "The Saints that fit above." + +Her greatest favorite, and the one she often read, was:-- + + "My Heart, like Grafs that's fmit with heat + Withers, that I forget to eat; + By reafon of my conftant Groans + I am reduced to fkin and Bones. + I'm like the Pelican, and Owl, + That lonely in the Deferts ftroll; + As mournful fparrows percht alone + On the Houfe Top, I walk and moan." + + +"Tell me, cousin,--what sort o' bottles does God have?" she now asked, +as Dorothy glanced at the book held against her knee. + +"'Bitha!" Mary exclaimed reprovingly, while Dorothy stared at the +child, and began to laugh. + +'Bitha could never endure to be laughed at; and being very fond of Mary +Broughton, she did not relish her disapproval. And so at this double +attack upon her sensibilities, she looked hurt and a bit angry. + +"If," she demanded, "'t is wicked to say that God has bottles, what +does the Church Book say so for?" And she pointed to the open page. + +"Whatever does the child mean?" asked Dorothy of Mary, as she took the +book into her own hands. + +"There,--right there!" was 'Bitha's triumphant retort. "Read for +yourself!" And she trailed a small finger along the lines,-- + + "Thou hast a book for my complaints, + A bottle for my Tears." + + +"There!" the child repeated. "You see 't is so. Why should God keep +bottles in Heaven,--and what sort would He keep?" + +"I think you will know more about such things when you grow older," was +Dorothy's irresponsive answer; and she handed the book to Mary, while +her dancing eyes glinted with topaz hues caught from the sunshine +without. + +"You are an odd child, 'Bitha," Mary said, smiling in spite of herself +as she read the lines. + +"That is what I am always told when I ask about anything," the little +girl pouted. + +Before any reply could be made to this general accusation a shadow +darkened the opening of the cave, and looking up, all three sprang to +their feet with exclamations of dismay. + +A vivid gleam of scarlet shut away the daylight, and a pair of sea-blue +eyes, set in an olive-hued face, were looking at them with much +curiosity. + +The two older girls stood speechless, facing the intruder, whose gaze +wandered with respectful curiosity over the regal form and gold-brown +hair of the one, whose mouth was decidedly scornful, as were also her +steady blue eyes, which regarded him fearlessly, despite her quaking +heart. + +Then the new-comer's eyes turned to the smaller figure; and a flash of +admiration came into them as his hand stole to his head and removed its +covering, while he said with unmistakable courtesy, "Do not be alarmed, +I beg of you,--I mean no harm." + +"What do you want?" Mary Broughton demanded, seeming in no wise +softened by his gentle bearing. + +"Only your good-will," he replied, with a smile that showed beautiful +teeth. + +She flashed a scornful glance in return. + +"Good will!" she repeated. "That is something we have not in our power +to give one who wears a coat the color of yours." She spoke defiantly, +looking the young man squarely in the face. + +"Such words, uttered by such lips, almost make me coward enough to +regret the color," he said good-naturedly, and as though determined not +to take offence. + +With this he took a step or two inside the cave; and small 'Bitha, +dismayed at the near approach of the scarlet-clad form, clung tightly +to Dorothy's gown, pressing her face into its folds. + +"Speak him fair, Mary," Dorothy whispered, apprehending possible danger +from her friend's want of discretion. + +But Mary did not hear, or else she did not care to heed, for she said: +"Neither your raiment, nor aught that concerns you, can matter to us. +This is our property you are trespassing upon; and I bid you begone, +this moment." + +"You are surely lacking in courtesy, mistress," he replied, still +smilingly. + +The words were addressed to Mary, but his glowing eyes were fixed upon +Dorothy, who was still standing with her arms about 'Bitha. The color +was coming and going in her cheeks, and something in the big eyes told +him that a smile was not far away. + +"We have no courtesy for British soldiers," was Mary's haughty answer +to his imputation; and there was an angry tapping of her foot upon the +shell floor. + +He shrugged his shoulders, and turning more directly away from Mary, +now spoke to Dorothy. + +"I was only wandering about the shore," he declared, looking at her as +though pleading for her good-will, "and hearing voices as I stood on +the rocks above, I made bold to find out from whence they came." + +Mary had not taken her eyes from his face, and now she was quick to +answer him. + +"Well," she said, before Dorothy could speak, "having found where the +voices came from, you'd best go on about your own affairs and leave us +to ours." + +"And what if I refuse?" he asked quickly, a flash coming from his eyes +as though she had at length nettled him. + +"I should try to tumble you over the rocks at your back," she answered +with sudden anger; and she stepped toward him as if to carry out her +threat. + +He moved back hastily, and then, missing his footing on the slippery +granite, fell over backwards down the rocks. + +Dorothy's shriek was echoed shrilly by little 'Bitha, while Mary stood +as though transfixed, looking at the opening through which the young +man had disappeared. + +Dorothy was the first to find her voice. "Mary," she cried in +terrified reproach, "you have made him fall into the water, and perhaps +he will drown. Whatever shall we do?" + +Mary did not reply, but speeding to the entrance of the cave, looked +out over the uneven ledges. + +The Britisher was lying, apparently unconscious, only a short distance +below her, his shoulders caught in a deep seam of the rocks, while the +rest of his body lay along a narrow ledge a few feet lower. + +"There he is," she said, turning a white face to Dorothy,--"lying there +in the rocks." + +Putting 'Bitha aside, Dorothy came and looked down. + +"See the blood on his face!" she exclaimed wildly. "'T is coming from +a cut on the side of his head. Oh, Mary, I'm afraid you have killed +him!" + +Mary started to reply; but Dorothy had already sprung past her through +the mouth of the cave, and was flying down the rocks to where the +wounded man lay. + +Tearing the silken kerchief from about her neck, she knelt beside him +and endeavored to wipe the blood from his face, while Mary watched her +in silence from above, with 'Bitha clinging to her, and crying softly. + +"I must have some water, Mary," said Dorothy, who saw that the blood +came from a cut in the side of the young man's head, "and I want +another kerchief. Throw down yours." + +Mary, without replying, tossed down her own kerchief, but without +removing her eyes from the white face beneath her. + +Dorothy ran to the sand-beach near by, and, having dabbled her bloody +kerchief in the water, hurried back; then laying it folded upon the +wound, she bound it fast with the one Mary had thrown her, lifting the +sufferer's head as she did this, and holding one of his broad shoulders +against her knee, while her nimble fingers deftly tied the knots. + +Scarcely had she finished when she was startled, but no less relieved, +to hear a long, quivering sigh come from his lips; and her color +deepened as she looked into his face and met his opening eyes gazing +wonderingly into her own. Then they wandered over her bared neck and +throat, only to return to her eyes, dwelling there with a look that +made her voice tremble as she said, "We are sorry you are hurt, sir; I +hope it is nothing serious." + +He made no reply, and, after a moment's pause, she asked, "Do you feel +able to stand on your feet?" + +Still he did not answer, but gave her that same intent, questioning +look, as if gazing through and beyond the depths of the eyes above him. + +As she stammeringly repeated her inquiry, he sighed heavily, and seemed +to shake his dreaming senses awake, for, raising himself a little, he +passed his shapely brown hand over his bandaged head, and laughed, +albeit not very mirthfully. + +"The other fair young dame must be rejoiced at my mishap," he said, +"but--I thank you for your care. I seem to have done something to my +head, for it feels like a burning coal." And he touched the bandage +over the wound. + +"It is the salt water, getting into the cut," Dorothy explained, as he +rose slowly and stood before her. "I am very sorry it is so painful; +but it will stop the bleeding." + +"As it was you who placed it there, I like it to burn," he said in a +tone to reach her ears alone. "But I'll not forget, even when the pain +ceases." And he looked down into her face in a way that made her eyes +droop. + +"I regret very much, sir, that you were injured," said Mary Broughton, +her voice coming from over his head. + +He glanced up at her and bowed mockingly. Then stooping to regain his +hat, he said, bending his eyes on Dorothy, "Tell me the name I am to +remember you by." + +She did not answer; and he stood looking at her as though awaiting her +pleasure. + +"That can be no matter," she said at last, and in a very low voice. + +"Ah, but it is--a very great matter," he exclaimed eagerly, laying a +hand on her arm, as she turned away to climb up to the cavern. + +Some inward force seemed to be impelling her, and scarcely aware of +what she was saying, she murmured her own name, and he repeated it +after her. + +This brought a still deeper color to her cheeks; but as if remembering +all she had so strangely forgotten in the presence of this enemy of her +country, she pushed away his detaining hand, and passed quickly up the +rocks to where Mary was standing. + +The young man said nothing more, but looked up at the two; then lifting +his hat, he turned and walked slowly away. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +He had scarcely gone when the two girls made haste to leave the cave +and return to the house. + +"'T is most unfortunate for us, Dot, that he found the cave, or that +all this should befall," said Mary, as they went down the rocks. "You +know what we have to do to-night; and it may make our work dangerous, +now that he has been here." + +A soft whistle interrupted Dorothy's reply; and looking up, they saw +the lean visage of Johnnie Strings, who was perched upon the rocks +above the cave they had just left. + +Having attracted their attention, the pedler made haste to join them. + +"Well, I snum!" he exclaimed. "Mistress Mary, whatever was the +Britisher seekin' about here, an' talkin' about? What ailed his head, +all tied up, like 't was hurt?" + +"He said he heard us talking, and came to see who it was," small 'Bitha +took it upon herself to explain, "and Mary Broughton pushed him down +the rocks." + +Johnnie began to laugh, but Dorothy turned to the child and said, +"'Bitha, you know that it is not true, for he stepped backward himself, +and fell over." + +"Yes; but 't was Mary made him," 'Bitha insisted. "And, 'though I was +sorry to have him hurt, I was glad Mary made him go away." + +"Were you there all the time, Johnnie Strings, and never came nigh to +help us?" demanded Mary, indignantly. They were now walking along +together, for Johnnie seemed inclined to accompany them to the house. + +"Nay, nay, mistress," he declared emphatically, but still grinning, as +though vastly pleased. "But I should say ye needed no help from me to +frighten away redcoats. I only came up as I heard Mistress Dorothy say +you'd made him fall into the water. Then I sat an' watched her tie up +his head,--more 's the pity; for belike he'll only use it to hatch more +deviltry for his soldiers to carry out hereabouts." + +"Do you know who he is?" inquired Dorothy, her face taking on a little +more color. + +"Yes, mistress,--he is a dragoon. I saw him over at Salem t' other +day. They call him Cornet Southorn; an' I only hope he don't get to +know my face too well." Johnnie winked as he said this, and his voice +had a note of mystery. + +"I don't believe he would ever harm us," said Dorothy, paying no +attention to the pedler's anxiety concerning himself. + +Johnnie's eyes fastened upon her glowing face with a look of surprise +as he remarked grimly, "He's a Britisher, an' our sworn enemy." + +On the porch of the house they found Joseph Devereux, who listened with +frowning brows while the girls told him of their adventure. + +"Go within, child, to the grandame," he bade 'Bitha, when they had +finished; and as soon as she was gone he said to the pedler, "Now, +Strings, you may, or may not, know aught o' the work in hand for the +night." + +The pedler nodded understandingly. "Me an' Lavinia Amelia jogged a bit +o' the mornin' down road with the party from here, an' I was reckonin' +to offer my help, should it be needed. I was on my way this very +mornin' to tell ye that Master Broughton an' the rest thought I'd +better have some of our own men 'round hereabouts, handy for the powder +party to-night." + +"'T is best that you do so, as matters have turned out. And 't is +wiser that you be trusted to give the signals to the 'Pearl,' for a +safe landing o' the stuff, and that Mary and Dorothy be left out o' the +matter altogether. 'T is no work for women to risk, with the British +soldiery skulking about the place." + +The day passed without event, save that a number of men--mostly brawny, +weather-beaten sailors--came to the house, to go away again after a +private converse with Joseph Devereux. + +Johnnie Strings was about the place all day,--now wandering down to the +beach to look out over the wide expanse of ocean, as he whittled +unceasingly at a bit of stick and whistled softly to himself, or else +sitting on the steps of the porch, telling wonderful stories to 'Bitha. +But wherever he was, or what doing, his keen little eyes were always +roving here and there, as though on the lookout for something +unexpected. + +It was evident that he was nervous and ill at ease; and this, for +Johnnie Strings, was a new thing. + +Toward sunset he arose from the porch steps and gave a great sigh, as +of relief that the day was ended. Then, without a word to any one, he +tramped off in the direction of the Neck. + +"'T is as well," he muttered to himself, "to see what the devils be +doin', an' if they be like to suspect what is goin' on about 'em." + +The sunset was of marvellous beauty. It was as if all the golds, +purples, and scarlets of the hour had been pounded to a fine dust, and +this was rolling in from over the ocean in one great opaline mist. + +The waves, curling in to break upon the sands of Riverhead Beach, +seemed to be pouring out flames and sparks; while the quieter waters of +Great Bay, on the other side of the causeway, looked as though shot +through with long, luminous rays of light, that slanted athwart the +mists of prismatic coloring, to withdraw swiftly now and again, like +search-lights seeking to probe the clear water to its uttermost depths. + +But the far-off eastern horizon held aloof from all this glory. It +stood out like a wall of pearl and cold gray, with no sail showing +against it to Johnnie Strings' sharp eyes, as he took his way across +the narrow strip of causeway that left the Devereux estate behind, and +led to the Neck and the enemy's camp. + +The pedler knew nothing of the passion called love, else he would never +have been so lacking in shrewdness as to formulate the scheme now +working in his mind. And this, notwithstanding the suspicion that had +shot through his wide-awake brain at the way he had seen Cornet +Southorn looking into the downcast face of Dorothy Devereux, and had +noted later her words in his defence. + +His present idea--and one that had been gathering force all day--was to +see the young officer, and while pretending to have come solely to +inquire as to his injury, to so lead the talk as to impress upon his +mind the needlessness of watching the Devereux place or household, +which he should be made to understand consisted only of the women-folk +and one enfeebled old gentleman,--the son being away in Boston. + +And now, as he neared the enemy's quarters, he chuckled to himself at +the cleverness of his scheme. + +The British troops had taken possession of the entire Neck, occupying +several large warehouses standing near the end, and appropriating even +the buildings used by the lighthouse-keeper and his wife, who, with her +two children and as many of her most precious possessions as she could +carry, had gone across the bay to abide with friends in the town. + +Johnnie Strings knew this, and gritted his teeth in silent rage as he +saw a group of redcoats standing around a fire where they were cooking +some of the good woman's chickens for their evening meal. + +They hailed him good-naturedly, and invited him to join them, several +of the soldiers recognizing him as one from whom they had purchased +certain things necessary for their comfort. + +But he declined their offer, and pulling his hat well over his +forehead, the better to conceal his features, went on beyond to another +group, and demanded to be taken to the presence of Cornet Southorn, +speaking in a way to imply that he had an important message for that +officer. + +He was ushered at once into the front room of the lighthouse-keeper's +abode, where, upon a settle drawn near the window overlooking Great +Bay, sat the personage he desired to see. + +The young man's head was still bandaged, and the table before him with +food and dishes upon it was evidence of his having supped alone; this +confirming what Johnnie Strings had suspected,--that the soldiers upon +the Neck were at present under the charge of Cornet Southorn. + +Captain Shandon, who should have been there,--an elegant fop, high in +favor with the Governor,--was sure to avoid any rough service, such as +this, preferring to remain until the last moment in Salem, where better +fare, both as to food and wines, to say naught of the gentler sex, was +to be had. + +Johnnie Strings stood in the shadow, without removing his hat, as +Cornet Southorn demanded pleasantly enough to know his business. + +"I came to see how your head was doin' at this hour o' the day, young +sir," the pedler answered in an obsequious tone. + +As the last two words came from his lips, the officer scowled. He was +only five-and-twenty, and looked still younger; and he was boyish +enough to resent any familiarity grounded upon his seeming youth. + +"Have a care, old man, as to how you address His Majesty's officers," +he said with some severity, accompanied by a pompousness illy in +keeping with his frank, boyish face. + +"I meant no harm, Cornet Southorn," the pedler replied in an apologetic +way. "I saw ye over at Salem t' other day, when I was peddlin' my +wares there; an' I've been all day at the house o' Mistress Dorothy +Devereux, the young lady who tied up your hurt head this mornin'. And +so"--here Johnnie smiled knowingly--"I came to see if ye were any the +worse for your fall, which might have been a bit o' bad luck, had not +the ledge caught ye an' held ye from slippin' into the sea." + +The young man's manner changed at once. + +"Did Mistress Dorothy Devereux send you to inquire?" he asked eagerly. + +"She send me?" said the pedler cautiously, and lowering his voice. +"Lawks! 't is well her old father don't hear ye; 'though sure he be +that feeble he's good for little but tongue fight, an' the only son be +away to Boston for this many a day. An' that," he went on to say +quickly, seeing that the young man was about to speak, "is one reason +why 't is well for me to be about the place till the brother cares to +come home, with all those women-folk there, an' no man but the old +father, who is feeble, as I've said. An' 't is not very safe for them, +who be easily frighted by strange men comin' 'round, 'specially +soldiers." + +This was a long speech for Johnnie to make, and he watched narrowly its +effect upon the young officer. This was soon apparent, for he said at +once, "You have done well to tell me of this, and I'll see to it that +none of my men cause any annoyance to the ladies." + +He fell so neatly into the trap that Johnnie Strings could scarcely +keep from laughing outright; but all he said was--and very meekly: "Ye +be most kind, sir, an' I'll tell Mistress Dorothy what ye say. An' +I'll tell her as well that your head be none the worse for its thumpin' +on the rocks." With this he backed toward the door. + +"No, no," said Southorn, "my head is all right. But come back, won't +you,--come and have something to drink before you go?" And he pounded +vigorously on the table. + +But Johnnie declined, with many thanks, asserting that he never drank +anything,--a statement fully in accord with his fictitious story +concerning the Devereux household. But he reckoned upon having +accomplished his purpose, and so bowed himself out, just as a red-faced +orderly appeared in response to his officer's summons. + +"Never mind, Kief," said the latter, as the soldier stood stiffly in +the doorway awaiting his orders. "I don't need you now." Then, as the +man saluted and turned to go, he asked, "Who is that fellow who just +left? Do you know?" + +"Johnnie Strings, sir, the pedler; 'most everybody knows 'im 'twixt +Boston town and Gloucester." + +"Ah, yes, I've heard of him before. That is all, Kief; you may go." + +As soon as he was alone, Kyrle Southorn, Cornet in His Majesty's +Dragoons, bethought himself of how strangely lacking he had been in +proper dignity during his brief interview with this humble pedler; and +a feeling of sharp anger beset him for a moment as he took himself to +task for his unofficerlike demeanor and manner of speech. + +Then came a mental picture of the distracting face he had seen that +same morning; he seemed to be looking once more into the girl's eyes, +and feeling the soft touch of her little hands about his head. + +He recalled all this, and gave utterance to a queer, short laugh, as +though in the effort to excuse his folly. + +"Either that girl has bewitched me," he muttered, lying back in his +chair, "or else the cut in my head has been making me addlepated all +day." And he let his gaze wander out through the window, where the +dusk was coming fast, blotting out the fort and town like a dark veil, +pierced here and there by the dimly twinkling lights showing from the +houses. + +"I wonder if she sent the fellow?" his thoughts ran on. "She told me +she was sorry for my being hurt, and she looked it. But the other--the +fair one--she was a tartar." And he laughed again at the recollection +of Mary Broughton's angry blue eyes and dauntless bearing. + +"From what I've seen of these folk," he said, now half aloud, "it will +be no easy matter to suppress their meetings and make them obey His +Majesty's laws. They seem not to know what fear or submission may +mean." Then, after pondering a few minutes, "I wonder if it would not +be a wise thing for me to call upon this man Devereux, as he is so old +and feeble, and assure him and his women-folk that I will see to it +they be not molested--annoyed in any way? I might see her again,--I +might come to know her; and this would be very pleasant." And now his +thoughts trailed away into rosy musings. + +If Johnnie Strings had not added fresh fuel to the fire already kindled +in the breast of the impetuous young Englishman by Dorothy's sweet face +and pitying eyes,--had he not made it burn more fiercely by giving him +reason to believe that she had sent to inquire for his welfare,--he +might not have thought to carry out his present impulse. + +He was seized by a strong desire to see for himself the place where she +dwelt,--to look upon her surroundings,--to make more perfect the +picture already in his mind, by adding to it the scenes amid which her +daily life was passed. + +Such was the young man's desire; and his was a nature whose longing was +likely to manifest itself by acts, and more especially now, in the very +first heart affair of his life. + +As soon as the guards were posted and the countersign given out, he +discarded his uniform for a fisherman's rough coat, and put on a large +slouch hat, which covered his head, bandage and all. And thus attired, +he set forth alone to visit the scene of his morning's adventure, and +to investigate its surroundings. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +The night was clear, bright, and starlit, with not a wreath of vapor +drifting. The rising wind moaned through the woods about the Devereux +homestead, that loomed, a dark mass, and silent as a deserted house. + +From the shore below came the hoarse roar of the tumbling water, to +mingle with the wailing murmur of the wind; and now and then could be +heard, clear-cut and eerie, the cry of a screech-owl from the woods. + +As evening closed in, Joseph Devereux had ordered that no lights be +shown about the house, lest they might attract the attention of any +straggling soldiers; and he felt assured that this warning would be +sufficient to intimidate the women into the greatest caution. + +As for the men, they were all, even old Leet, out with the party +watching at the "Black Hole,"--a bit of the sea shut in by a wood that +bordered a wide sweep of meadow known as the "Raccoon Lot." It was +here that the expected powder and arms were to be concealed by burying +them in the earth, after being wrapped in oilskin coverings. + +Johnnie Strings had gone alone to the Sachem's Cave, ready to give the +signal. + +The cave was somewhat farther down the shore, and a light shown above +it could be plainly seen from the open sea. + +The rising wind piped softly about the closed window where Mary +Broughton was sitting in the starlight, absorbed in her own anxious +thoughts, until aroused by something unusual in Dorothy's appearance +and manner of moving about. The girl was at the farther side of the +unlit room, and Mary asked her what she was doing. + +A low laugh was the only answer; and upon the question being repeated, +Dorothy came to the window, and Mary saw that she was clad in a +complete suit of boy's clothes. + +The unexpected transition was so startling that for a moment she could +not speak, but sat looking at Dorothy in amazement. + +"Oh, Dot," she then exclaimed, "you should take shame to yourself for +doing such a thing!" + +She could see, even in the gloom, the wilful toss of Dorothy's head, +whose curls were let down and tied back with a ribbon, thus completing +the masculine disguise. + +"Whatever are you thinking about, to play such pranks at a time like +this?" Mary demanded reproachfully. + +"That is just it, Mary," Dorothy replied. She seemed in no wise +abashed, but spoke with perfect seriousness. "I do it because of the +time, and of what is going to happen to-night. Father said 't was not +safe for us to go abroad, because we wore petticoats. Now here is this +old suit Jack outgrew years ago, and I've always kept it to masquerade +in; but to-night it will serve me in a more serious matter. I cannot +stop in the house; I am too anxious about Jack. I want to see him and +the others get ashore in safety; and I've no fear but, dressed in this +way, it will be easy for me to do so." + +"But you must not," Mary protested. "How can you dare to think of such +a thing? Suppose some of the men should recognize you,--and they will +be keeping a sharp lookout for strangers--what would your father say?" +And she began to have thoughts of seeing him, and so frustrating this +wild scheme. + +"I tell you I must go, and will go, Mary; so do not try to prevent me. +I know every inch of ground hereabouts, and can easily keep out of the +way, even should any one try to hinder me. Why will you not go with +me?" + +Dorothy spoke quietly, but very earnestly; and as she finished, she +placed both her hands on Mary's shoulders, as though to compel her +consent. + +Mary hesitated. There was in her own heart a like desire to that of +the younger girl; she, too, wished to get out of doors, and see all +that should take place. But she held herself to be more prudent than +the impulsive Dorothy, and so for a time she demurred with her +inclination. + +But it was only for a time. Dorothy's impetuous arguments fairly swept +her off her balance, as usually happened with any one who was fond of +the girl; and Mary agreed to be her companion. + +It was some minutes after this when the two stole noiselessly down the +back stairway and let themselves out of the door opening toward the +sheds at the rear of the house. As Dorothy locked it on the outside +and put the key in her pocket, she whispered: "We might have bribed +Tyntie to let us out, but 't is as well not to risk getting her into +trouble. I shall tell father all about it to-morrow, and I know of a +certainty he'll not be angry. To be sure, he may scold me a little; +but"--with a low laugh--"I can soon kiss him into good humor again." + +"Don't you think, Dot, it is rather of a shame,--the way you do things, +and then tell your father afterwards?" Mary asked as they walked along. + +"Assuredly not," was the ready answer, "else I might not get so many +chances to 'do things,' as you call it. I never do aught that is +really wrong; I love my father far too dearly for that. But I am +young, and he is old; and that, I suppose, is why we do not think alike +about all matters. He has often said I ought to have been a boy, and I +agree with him; though I dare say I shall be a proper enough old maid +some day. Only," with a laugh, "I cannot quite imagine such a thing." + +"No," said Mary, looking into Dorothy's eyes, bright as the stars that +were now being shut away by the branches of the trees in the woods they +were entering; "no--nor I. But we'd best stop our chattering and use +our eyes and ears. Heavens! what's that?" And she clutched Dot's arm +in sudden fright as a wild cry rang out directly over their heads. + +"Pooh!" said Dorothy, with a laugh, "'t is but an old hoot-owl. If +you'd been in the woods as much as I, you'd not be frightened so +easily." + +They came to a halt at the edge of the timber growth overlooking the +rock peak above the Sachem's Cave, and crouched among the bushes to +watch for the light, keeping a lookout as well upon the sea, for the +first signal from the ship. + +And there they remained, listening to the incessant crying of the +insects in the grass and the rustling of the wind in the trees +overhead, these being mingled with the never-ceasing sound of the sea, +as the breakers of the incoming tide flung themselves against the +boulders with a quavering roar that seemed to pulse the air like great +heart-throbs. + +Presently Mary whispered, "Why not let us go and stop beside Johnnie +Strings?" Then quickly, "Oh, I forgot--the way you are dressed would +make it imprudent." + +"I should not care very much for Johnnie Strings," Dorothy began; but +Mary said hastily,-- + +"Oh, no, Dot, 'twould never do." + +A long silence ensued, broken at length by Mary saying in a tone of +alarm, "Oh, Dot, whatever would we do, if your father went to speak to +you for somewhat, and should not find us in the house at this late +hour?" + +"No fear of such a thing," was the confident reply. "He has made sure +long since that I am abed and asleep." + +It was half-past ten of the clock when the two girls left the house; +and so they reckoned it must be now several minutes after the next hour. + +"Suppose it should be far into the night before the ship comes in +sight," Mary suggested, for she was beginning to feel cramped and +uncomfortable. "Let's not wait for so long a time as that." + +"No, we will not," Dorothy assented with a yawn. But the next moment +she was all alive, with her small fingers holding Mary's arm in a tight +clutch as she whispered excitedly: "Look, Mary--there it is! There was +one light, and 't is gone. Now there are the two; and there comes the +third, as Jack said." + +The girls arose and stood erect in eager interest, looking out over the +water, where, several hundred yards from shore, the lights gleamed and +then disappeared. And now their eyes, accustomed to the gloom, +discerned a slim blackness, as of a man's form, appear on the highest +point of rocks above the cave; and then a soft glow of tremulous light +illumined the darkness. + +While they watched this, they were startled to see a taller figure +spring from the shadows, and a second later the two seemed to melt into +one enlarged blur, as if they were struggling. + +Quick as thought the boyish form beside Mary broke from the bushes and +sped with flying steps toward the peak. + +"Dot--Dot--come back!" cried Mary, regardless now of who might hear +her. "Whatever are you thinking to do?" + +A low but clear reply came to her from over Dorothy's shoulder. + +"The lanterns--they must be put out, else Jack may be hurt!" + +On, on, she flew, with no fear of the peril into which she might be +rushing,--with no heed of her unmaidenly garb. Her mind held but the +one thought,--that the lanterns must be extinguished, for danger +threatened her brother and his companions if they should seek to land +unwarned. + +So absorbed were the men in their fierce wrestling that neither of them +saw nor heard the slight figure that came straight up to them, and +then, dashing at the lanterns, sent them flying into the water beneath. + +Then the larger of the two, catching sight of the intruder, relaxed his +hold on the other; and Johnnie Strings, with a derisive whoop, twisted +his wiry little body from the slackened grip and sped down the rocks +and away into the night. + +"You young rascal, what does all this mean?" demanded Southorn, for he +it was; and seizing the boyish shoulder firmly, he shook the slender +form. + +Dorothy, although greatly overcome by agitation now that her brave deed +was accomplished, thought she recognized the voice that addressed her +so roughly, and was silent from embarrassment. + +"Are you dumb?" the Englishman asked angrily, shaking her again. +"Speak up, you young rebel, or I may try what a salt-water bath will do +for the unlocking of your stubborn tongue." + +"Stop shaking me, you great--brute," Dorothy gasped indignantly. "Have +you no--manners?" + +At sound of the soft-toned voice, Southorn seemed to feel that he was +dealing with no yokel, as he had supposed; and now, peering closely, he +saw that the head of his prisoner was finely shaped, and the features +refined and delicate. + +"If you object to rough treatment, my young friend," he said a little +more gently, "you should not put your nose into such doings as these." +But he still kept a firm hold of the arm and shoulder, as though to +stifle any idea of escape. + +"I should say 't was you who deserved rough usage,--coming onto my +father's land at this hour, and putting your nose into business that +can in no wise concern you." Dorothy had by this time fully recovered +her composure, and being certain as to the completeness of her +disguise, spoke with saucy assurance. + +"Your father's land!" exclaimed the young man, in evident surprise. +"Pray, who is your father?" + +"A gentleman who has no great taste for stranger folk prowling about +his estate." She gave her arm and shoulder a slight twitch, as though +to loosen them from his hold. But this he would not have, although his +voice had a still milder sound as he asked, "Is your name Devereux?" + +"And whether it is or not," she answered, "pray tell me what matters it +to you?" + +"It matters this to me," he said quickly: "that if it is, then I'll let +you off, and will go on my way, although I don't quite like the looks +of the doings I've seen on this rock, and out there on the water." + +"By the Holy Poker!" Dorothy exclaimed, bent upon keeping up the part +she had assumed. "But you talk as if you were the Lord High Cockalorum +himself! Who are you, to say what you do and do not like here, on my +father's premises?" + +"Never mind who I am. Perhaps I can make more trouble for your father +and his household than you are able to understand. But answer what I +have asked, and you'll not be sorry." + +Dorothy could not fail to note the earnestness with which he spoke, nor +the intent look she felt rather than saw in the dim light. But she met +all this with a mocking air and tone as she said, "Since you make it so +worth my while to be kind to my neighbors, how know you but I might see +fit to tell you an untruth, and say my name was Devereux, when it may +be Robinson, or anything else?" + +"If this is your father's estate, then your name must be Devereux," +Southorn asserted; "for the place is owned by one Joseph Devereux, as I +have been told. So there's an end to your telling me anything +misleading. And now answer me this,--know you the one who is called +Mistress Dorothy Devereux?" + +Dot waited a moment before answering. A new scheme had sprung into her +quick-witted brain,--one that promised an effective means of getting +rid of his embarrassing presence, this being likely to interfere +seriously with the landing of the arms and powder, were that still in +contemplation. + +She was wondering, too, what had become of Mary Broughton, and what she +was doing all this time. + +"Answer me," the young Britisher repeated sharply, "do you know her?" +And he gave a shake to the arm he still held. + +"You seem over-fond of shaking folk, sir," she remonstrated. "I wish +you'd let go my arm." And she pulled it impatiently. + +"I will let it go at once, if you'll only tell me what I wish to know." + +"And what may that be?" she asked, with an innocent _sang-froid_ that +plainly angered him. + +"You are a saucy boy," he said impatiently. "You remember well enough +what I asked you. Do you know Mistress Dorothy Devereux?" + +"Aye," was the quick reply; "I know her as well as you know your own +face that you see in the glass every day." She stood rubbing the arm +he had now released, and upon which his grip had been unpleasantly firm. + +"Ah--then she is your sister." He had moved so as to stand directly in +front of the slight figure, whose head reached but half-way up his own +broad chest. + +She looked at him for a second and then burst into laughter. + +"I know you now," she said. "You must be the Britisher she told of +this morning,--the one who came here, and whom Mary Broughton +frightened so badly that he fell over and cut his head." And again the +mocking laugh came from her ready lips. + +"I don't believe your sister told you any such untruth," said the +irritated young man. "I missed my footing, and fell; that was all. I +meant no rudeness, although the lady you name--Mary Broughton, did you +call her?--seemed not to believe me." + +"Mary has but little taste for a redcoat," was the dry retort. + +"And judging from your own tone, you share her taste," he said, now +quite good-naturedly, for he found himself taking a strong liking to +this bright, free-speaking lad. + +"I? Oh, I don't know," was the careless answer. "Do you not think I +am somewhat too young to have much of an opinion upon such matters?" + +He smiled, but without replying. Then Dot came closer to him and said +in a low voice, "At any rate, I am good-natured enough to say I can +show you something that you, being His Majesty's officer, had best know +about." + +"What is it?" the young man asked. He was now looking around for his +hat, which, together with the bandage about his head, had fallen off +during his struggle with the pedler. + +Dorothy's sharp eyes were the first to catch sight of these; and she +picked them up and handed them to him, noting with an odd feeling that +he placed the bandage inside his coat and over his heart. + +"It is something you may or may not care to see," she replied. "Only +I'll warrant you'll be sorry if another reports it first; for I shall +show it to the next Britisher who comes this way." + +"Very well," he said; "let me see it." + +Without further parley, and suspecting a nest of concealed firearms, or +something of the like, he followed her down the rocks, going with slow +caution, while she went more rapidly and soon stood below, waiting for +him. And then, side by side, they set off inland. + +Dorothy, skirting as closely as was prudent the woods where she +reckoned Mary was still hiding, took care to remark to her companion, +in a voice loud enough to reach her friend's ears, that it would not +take over ten minutes to reach their destination, and that then he had +best go his own way. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +Mary Broughton was where Dorothy suspected her to be; and standing well +back among the deeper shadows, she had been straining her eyes to see +all that took place on the rocky platform above the cave. + +She marvelled greatly at the lengthy converse Dorothy seemed to be +holding with the stranger, after Johnnie Strings disappeared over the +side of the rocks in the direction of Riverhead Beach; and she had +started out of the wood, half determined to go and meet the younger +girl, when she saw her leaving the peak. + +A prudent afterthought led her to draw back again when she saw the two +forms swallowed up in the deeper darkness lying at the base of the +rocks. Then, hearing steps coming toward her hiding-place, she was on +the point of calling out, when Dorothy's words came to her ears, and +she remained silent, but still wondering what scheme her friend was +pursuing, and who was the stranger with whom she seemed to be upon such +excellent terms. + +Then came the impulse that she had better find her way to the Black +Hole, and tell the waiting party of what had happened; and acting upon +this, she set out at once. + +She had not gone very far when there came to her the sound of tramping +feet; and hastening to get out of the more open part of the wood, she +drew aside amongst the denser growth. + +She now heard a low-pitched voice singing a snatch of an old song, +trolling it off in a rollicking fashion that bespoke the youth of the +singer,-- + + "We hunters who follow the chase, the chase, + Ride ever with care a race, a race. + We care not, we reck not--" + + +Here the song was silenced by another voice which Mary recognized as +that of Doak, an old fisherman, who growled: "Belay that 'ere pipin', +Bait. Hev ye no sense, thet ye risk callin' down the reg'lars on us +with such a roarin'?" + +They were now quite near; and slipping out of the bushes, Mary called +out, "Doak, is that you?" + +"Who be it?" he demanded quickly, while all the other men came to a +halt. + +"It is I--Mary Broughton. Don't stop to question me, but listen to +what I have to tell you." + +She told them in the briefest possible way of what had happened. And +in doing this, she deemed it wiser to tell them of Dorothy's disguise, +being fearful of what might befall the girl should the men chance to +meet her,--more especially as they would now be on the lookout for the +stranger, who was doubtless an ill wisher to their scheme. + +Doak chuckled mightily over it all, particularly at Mary's description +of Dorothy kicking the lanterns off the rock; and several of the other +men gave hoarse utterance to their admiration. + +"Ev'ry natur' be fitted for its own app'inted work," remarked old Doak, +dogmatically. "If Mistress Dorothy had not allers been darin', by the +natur' o' things, she'd never a ketched holt o' the right rope so true +an' quick as she hev this night,--God bless her!" + +Here a younger voice broke in impatiently with, "But, Doak, we ought +n't to stand here chatterin' like this." + +"True, true, Tommy Harris," the old man replied good-naturedly. "But," +turning to Mary, "what shall ye do, Mistress Mary? Hed n't ye best let +one o' the boys tek ye to the house? Ye see we be goin' down to the +shore to Master John an' the rest of 'em, as was 'greed we should as +soon as we saw the 'Pearl' show her light." + +Mary said she preferred to go with them. But the old man shook his +head, and his companions began to move onward. + +"D'ye think 'twould be wise, mistress?" he asked gravely. "Ye see we +don't know jest what sort o' work we may find cut out for +us,--'specially if the man ye saw throttlin' Johnnie Strings were a +British spy, as belike he were, pretty sure." Then he added +impatiently, "I wonder where in tarnation Johnnie hev gone to, thet he +did n't cut back to tell us?" + +"And I am wondering where Dorothy has gone," said Mary, with much +anxiety. + +"I rather guess ye need hev no fear for her, mistress," Doak made haste +to reply. "She be wide awake, I'll bet my head, where'er she be." + +"But it seems so strange a thing that she should go off in such +fashion," Mary said, by no means satisfied with the old man's confident +words. + +"She went 'cause she wanted to go; an' she wanted to go 'cause she saw +work cut out to do, I warrant ye," declared Doak, with whom the girl +had always been a great favorite, since the days he used to take her +and Mary Broughton on fishing excursions in his boat. "But as to ye, +mistress--" + +"It is this way, Doak," she said, interrupting him: "you see I cannot +get into the house until I find Dorothy; for she has the key of the +only door by which I could enter, except I disturbed every one." + +"If ye did thet, Mistress Mary, the father would find out all 'bout the +prankin', eh?" And he chuckled knowingly. + +"And so 't is best," she went on, paying no attention to him, "that I +go along with you until we can see Master John; and he will know what +to do." + +"Very well, Mistress Mary," Doak said; "come 'long o' me, an' 't will +go hard with any man as seeks to molest ye,--though, from what Johnnie +Strings told me o' what ye did to the spyin' Britisher this mornin'--" + +Here he stopped short, both in speech and walking,--for they had been +hurrying to overtake the others, now well in advance--and slapping his +thigh, exclaimed: "I hev it, I hev it! What a blind old fool I be, not +to hev thought o' thet afore! 'T were sure to be the same devil, or +some one he sent, thet ye saw fightin' with Johnnie Strings." + +"Do you think so?" asked Mary, surprised that the thought had not +occurred to her before. "Whatever should make him come back there at +this hour of the night?" + +"Spyin', mistress, spyin', as 't is the only business he an' his +soldiers be sent down to do hereabouts. Who can say how many of 'em be +lyin' 'round this minute, to jump on us?" + +Mary glanced about apprehensively, and moved a little closer to the +sturdy fisherman's side. + +They were now out of the woods, and could discern vaguely in the open +field before them the dark forms grouped near the shore, awaiting some +signal or sign that might bespeak the expected boats. + +Mary and Doak joined the others, and they all stood in silence, +watching the black water, now streaked with a narrow bar of sullen red +from the eastern sky, where, out of a wild-looking cloud-bank, the moon +was just lifting a full, clear disk. + +"Can ye see aught?" muttered one stalwart fellow to his nearest +neighbor,--the two standing near Mary and old Doak. + +"Not I," was the low reply. "Mayhap they won't come at all now, since +seein' the lanterns go out." + +"Whate'er be ye thinkin' on?" chimed in Doak. "Cap'n Brattle hev +brought the stuff down, fast 'nough; an' he won't be for carryin' it +over to Salem, under the Gov'nor's nose. 'T is to be brought here; an' +here, an' nowhere else, hev they got to land it. They'll only be more +on the lookout now--thet's all. They know us to be here, an' all they +hev to do be to get to us. An' get to us they will, 'though the meadow +be grass-grown with redcoats, an' the King hisself 'mongst 'em." + +"D--n the King and all his redcoats!" came hoarsely from another man; +and then the talk was stopped by a faint sound from the water. + +Doak commanded the men to keep perfectly silent, for only the keenest +alertness could catch what the wind now brought to them. It was the +faintest imaginable noise of working oars; and it sent a shudder, like +a great sigh, through the waiting group. + +Mary Broughton felt her pulses thrill as the sound became more +distinct; and she glanced nervously about, and back of her,--at the +dark woods on the one hand, the frowning rock-piles on the other, and +at the sweep of clear meadows in the rear. + +"Draw aside, Mistress Mary, do ye now, please," Doak urged, laying his +hand upon her arm. "Get over there close by the rocks. For if so be +there comes any surprise from the Britishers, 'twill surely be from the +back of us, here; an' in such case ye'll be safe an' clear from 'em, or +from flyin' bullets, if ye get behind the rocks." + +She felt the wisdom of this advice, and silently complied, while he +went forward to the men, now drawn down close to the water's edge. + +The next moment he sent a likely-to-be-understood signal out over the +water. It was the curlew's cry, which he imitated perfectly; and while +it rang out softly, it was clear and penetrating. + +There was a second of silence, save for the wind, and the rippling of +the waves upon the shingle; then came a like cry from out the darkness, +and seeming nearer than had the sound of the oars. + +"Now, then, lads, face 'bout, an' watch afore ye!" Doak commanded, his +voice now strong with excitement; and pushing through them until he +reached the very edge of the water, he sent back another call,--loud, +clear, and fearless in its sound. + +The other men, with faces turned inland, stood with listening ears and +keen eyes, each gripping his gun, ready to repel the onslaught of any +lurking enemy that might be awaiting a favorable moment to swoop down +upon them. + +Following close upon Doak's second call there came the unmistakable +sound of rapidly working oars. Then a sizable lump of dark shadow +showed, speeding toward the beach, and soon defining its shape into +that of a large rowboat. + +Crouched closely against the rocks, and listening with checked +breathing, Mary Broughton almost cried aloud as a step startled her. +Then looking intently at the form drawing near, she recognized it, and +said quickly, with a deep sigh of relief, "Oh, Dorothy!" + +"Yes, Mary--is that you?" The speaker came closer and asked eagerly, +"Are those our own men down there on the shore, and was it the boat +they were signalling with the curlew's cry?" + +"Yes, and the boat is nigh in. But whatever have you been up to, Dot, +and who was the man you went off with, and where is he now?" + +To this fusillade of questions Dorothy only replied with a laugh. Then +she asked in turn, "Where is Johnnie Strings?" + +"No one knows," Mary answered. "'T is old Doak down there with the +men." And she added with a little impatience, "But why don't you tell +me, Dot--what has become of that man?" + +Dorothy laughed once more. "I have been locking him away, out of +mischief; and now he's as safe as if he had stopped where he belonged, +instead of coming to prowl about here at this hour of the night. It +was the Britisher, Mary,--the same one who gave us such a turn this +morning. He mistook me for my own brother, and I improved the chance +to lead him away by the nose." + +"But how?" Mary asked in astonishment. "What do you mean by all this, +and what have you done with him?" + +"I made him think that I could show him somewhat of importance to his +cause; and so I lured him up into father's new cattle-shed, in the +ten-acre lot, and I bolted him in there safely enough, unless he should +manage to break the bar that holds the door. I could not lock it, for +Trent has the key; but I should think the bar was strong enough to hold +the door--at least until the arms be safely landed and stowed away." + +"Then he was all alone?" Mary inquired, still too full of anxiety to +make any present comment upon Dot's exploit. + +"Yes, all alone." + +"What did he say to you?" + +"Say!" Dorothy exclaimed with a little laugh. "Oh, he said a good many +things. He spoke most glibly of Mistress Dorothy Devereux; and he told +me that if I'd say my name was the same as hers, he'd go away, and not +inspect more closely the goings on he had overseen, and which he +admitted were not to his liking." + +"Dot!" And Mary's tone was distinctly reproachful. + +"Well," almost defiantly, "he did say all that, and more too." + +"But," asked Mary, "did he not find you out--that you were a girl +masquerading in boy's apparel?" + +"Not he," with another laugh. "And I trust he never will, after the +hoydenish manner of speech I thought it best to use in keeping up my +character. He took me for a young brother of Mistress Dorothy +Devereux, I tell you." + +"Yes," Mary said musingly, as if to herself, "and I pray no harm may +come of it." + +"Harm!" Dorothy exclaimed, quick in her own justification. "What harm +can come of it? I take it as a most lucky thing that I was able to get +him out of the way. Had I not done so, then you might have had +something to say about harm." + +"He would have been taken prisoner by our men, had he stayed about +here," Mary asserted confidently, "and would have been shot, had he +made any disturbance. And that would have been just what he deserved." +Her usually gentle voice sounded unnaturally hard. + +"Oh, Mary," her friend cried, regardless of who might be within +hearing, "how can you speak so harshly--and he such a handsome young +gallant?" + +"What is it to us, whether he be handsome or ill-favored?" was Mary's +sharp retort. "What interest have you in him?" + +"I should be sorry if he were hurt." And Dorothy's tone was almost +tender by comparison with that of her companion. + +"Shame on you, Dot!" Mary said in a low voice, but quite fiercely. +"How can you talk so, and he a hateful Britisher?" + +But before Dorothy could reply, the sound of a boat's keel grating on +the sand turned their thoughts to different matters. + +"They are in!" exclaimed Dot, exultantly. "And safe!" + +"Aye--safe so far," Mary murmured. She was still uncomfortable, and +suspicious of some danger lurking in the darkness about them. + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +The men were gathered around the boat, shutting it away from the two +girls; and the moon's light, now grown silvery, was touching the group +in a way to make all their movements visible. + +"Mary," said Dorothy, "do you go to the beach and ask Jack to come here +to me. I must tell him somewhat; and then let us go to the house." +And Mary, nothing loath, complied at once. + +A few of the men were rapidly removing the arms and powder, which were +well wrapped in oilskins; and two sailors from the "Pearl" were +waiting, ready to pull out again the instant the cargo was landed. + +Another boat, similarly laden, was approaching the beach; and near it, +in a dory by himself, was the missing pedler. + +Upon escaping from Southorn, he had betaken himself to the causeway, +dragged one of the Devereux dories across from Riverhead Beach to the +open sea on the other side, and then set out to find the incoming boats +and report the recent occurrence. + +This he had done successfully; and John Devereux, now standing among +the men and conversing, with Doak, knew nearly all there was to be +told, while Hugh Knollys was coming in with the second boatload. + +So intent was the young man upon what was going on about him that he +did not see Mary until she had spoken to him; but at sound of her low +voice he turned quickly and came toward her. + +There was sufficient light for her to see the eager gladness in his +face as he stood before her, his broad-brimmed hat in his hand, and the +curling locks blowing riotously about his brows. + +"Mary," was all he said; but his voice was filled with something she +had never heard there before. + +"Dorothy wishes to speak with you at once," she replied, the faint +light giving her courage to keep her eyes upraised to his, for his +voice and manner made her heart tremulous. + +He drew her hand within his arm, and as they turned away from the shore +his other hand stole up and clasped the small soft fingers that rested +so lightly upon his sleeve; and he felt them tremble as his own closed +more tightly about them. + +"Mary," he said once more, and she lifted her face to meet the eyes she +felt were bent upon it. + +His face was shadowed by his hat-brim; but she could feel his heart +beating against the arm he pressed closely to his side, and she could +hear how hard and fast he was breathing. + +Making no answer, she only looked at him, until without a word he bent +his head and kissed her. + +"Why, John!" and her voice was well-nigh choked by mingled +embarrassment and joy. "Dorothy will see you." + +"Aye," he said stoutly; "and I hope she may, and all else in the world +see me doing a like thing many times." + +They had now come to a halt, and he said impetuously: "I cannot wait +another minute, sweetheart, to tell you that I love you; only you +surely knew it long ago. But what I do not know, and must know at +once, is whether my love is returned." + +Her only answer was, "Dorothy is near,--just behind these rocks; come +and speak to her first." + +"Not one step will I go until you tell me what I ask," he declared +firmly. "I have spoken to your father; and I have his consent and +blessing, if you will listen to me. So," pleadingly, "tell me, +Mary--sweetheart; tell me, do you love me well enough to be my wife?" + +A softly breathed "Yes" stole to his ears as Mary bent her head down on +his arm. But he raised the glowing face in his hands, and looked a +long moment at what he saw revealed by the faint light of the stars. + +Then, with a fervent "Thank God!" he bent once more, and laid his lips +on hers; and without another word they passed quickly over the few +yards to the rock-pile, where a boyish figure stood whistling. + +John Devereux started back and exclaimed, "Where is Dorothy? I thought +she was here." + +"I _am_ here, Jack, awaiting your pleasure," a saucy voice replied; and +Mary felt her cheeks burn, for something in Dorothy's tone told her +that her own precious secret was known. + +"Dorothy, what is the meaning of all this?" her brother asked, giving +her the full name, and trying to speak with severity. All that Johnnie +Strings had told him was of a boy tossing the lanterns over the rocks, +as indeed the pedler supposed to be the fact. + +"See here, Jack," she said earnestly, "don't scold me now. You can do +it just as well to-morrow, and Mary and I wish to get to the house. +But before I go I must tell you there is a certain gentleman locked in +the new shed, in the ten-acre lot; and when the powder and arms are +safe, you had best get him out." + +"Who put him there?" he asked in amazement. + +"I did," was the answer. + +"You, Dot--what for?" + +"To keep him from finding out what you had rather he did not know. +Only you must promise not to let him be hurt, and that you will release +him as soon as you unfasten the door." + +"Who is he--do you know?" And he did not speak so good-naturedly as +his sister would have liked. + +"He is a redcoat,--one of the soldiers quartered over on the Neck," +said Mary Broughton, now speaking for the first time. "He came upon +Dot and me at the Sachem's Cave this morning, and he has been prowling +about the place to-night. 'T was he who surprised Johnnie Strings, and +caused Dot to put out the signal-lights." + +Mary spoke with animation, almost anger, for she felt a bit indignant +at Dorothy's apparent lack of what she herself considered to be a +proper view of the affair. + +"Aha," muttered her lover, his voice full of sharp suspicion. "Did +this man hold much converse with you this morning, Mary?" + +"No, very little," she replied uneasily; and Dorothy added with a +laugh,-- + +"I fancy he had a bit more than he enjoyed." + +"Johnnie Strings told me of your frightening a Britisher so that he +nearly tumbled into the sea," John said, speaking in an approving way. +"And so this is the same fellow, is he? But how comes it, Dot, that +you found the chance to lock him away?" + +"'T is a long story," his sister replied, with a touch of petulance, +"and Mary and I must get back to the house. Only,"--and her voice +softened again--"won't you promise me, Jack, that you will not permit +him to be injured? I could never sleep again if I thought I was the +cause of any ill befalling him." + +She was almost in tears; and knowing this, her brother hastened to say, +"There, there, Dot! You've too tender a heart, child. But your mind +may rest easy, for I myself will let the man out as soon as 't is +prudent to do so. He shall go his way for this once, but I'll not +promise as to what may befall should he see fit to repeat such a bit of +business." + +The moon was rising higher, and its light becoming clearer and more +silvery. The boats were unloaded, and the sailors were pulling them +back to the ship, when the girls saw Hugh Knollys coming toward them +from the beach; and at sight of him they turned to flee. + +"I must go to the house with you two, Mary;" and John Devereux laid a +detaining hand upon her arm, bidding Dorothy wait a moment. + +"No need for that," she said quickly, fearing that Hugh might accompany +them; "we are not afraid." + +But John called out to Knollys,--speaking very carefully, for it still +seemed as though each rock or bush might be concealing a spying +enemy--asking him to go to the Black Hole in charge of the men, as he +himself must first hurry to the house, to rejoin them later. + +Hugh turned back, and the three took their way through the woods, +Dorothy keeping ahead and the others walking closely together just +behind her. + +"Mary," John said presently, and his voice was tremulous as a woman's, +"I can scarcely believe it." + +"Hush!" she whispered warningly. + +But pressing her hand, he said, "Dot knows all about it." And he +laughed softly, while Mary's cheeks burned, and she was silent. + +Then he added: "You see, I have been under such a strain, so filled +with anxious thoughts, that I well-nigh lost my senses when I landed on +the beach, and knew you were near me, and heard your voice. Then, +afterwards, I was so shocked by Dot's prank when I came upon her by the +rocks, that it is just coming to me what the child has done. It was a +brave deed; and but for her doing it, who can say what might have +happened--brave little girl!" + +The slight figure was too far ahead of their lagging footsteps to be +reached by his words. Indeed they could not see her at all through the +gloom of the woods, although they could hear now and again her light +footfall, or the cracking of a twig as she stepped upon it. + +"She thinks you are displeased with her prank," Mary said, "and I'm +sure she feels very unhappy about it." + +"She shall not feel so very long," he replied heartily. + +They found her waiting for them at the back door of the house, ready to +put the key into the lock. But before she could do this her brother +put his arms about her and kissed her fondly. + +"Brave little girl!" he whispered. "'T is you who have saved the arms +and powder for the town." + +To his amazement she burst into tears and clung to him, sobbing and +trembling like a child. + +"Why, Dot, whatever is it?" he asked anxiously, lowering his voice so +as not to arouse the inmates of the house. + +"She is suffering from a reaction, I think," Mary said softly; "but it +will soon pass away." + +But Dorothy was of too dauntless a spirit for her brother to be content +with this explanation; and holding her close in his arms, he went on +assuring her that he was not displeased, but that she had done a brave +act, and that every one would say the same if the news of it should get +abroad. + +"You must hush your sobs," he said, "and go within, and to bed, where +you should have been hours ago. I will find Hugh Knollys, and we'll go +together and release your prisoner." + +All this, whispered in her ear while her face was buried over his +heart, quieted her at last; and she drew herself away from him as she +said with a hysterical little laugh, "Think of the picture I am making +for Mary,--a big boy crying in your arms!" + +"You should have been a boy, Dot," he whispered, while she was opening +the door; "you've a heart brave enough to do credit to any man." + +"And, pray, may not women lay claim to having brave hearts?" queried +Mary Broughton, with dignified coquetry. + +"Aye, most truly; I should say you and Dot had proved that already. +And now, good-night, sweetheart." And to Mary's consternation, he +leaned over and kissed her, hurrying away as she hastily followed +Dorothy into the house. + +No word was spoken as the two girls felt their way cautiously through +the pitchy darkness to their rooms above stairs. + +The two apartments communicated; and the front windows of each +overlooked the meadow lands and woods, together with a far-reaching +expanse of the sea. + +Aunt Penine's, as well as Aunt Lettice's and little 'Bitha's, rooms +were in the wing of the house, on the opposite side; while those of +Joseph Devereux were far to the front, and looked out directly upon the +grounds and wooded land that ran down to the beach, where the water +stretched away to the horizon. + +They went directly to Dorothy's chamber; and it was so bright with the +moonlight now pouring through the unshuttered windows that they needed +no candle. + +As soon as the door was closed, Mary said, "Dorothy, I have somewhat to +tell you." And she put her arms lovingly about the boyish form, while +the solemn tenderness of her tone bespoke what she had to reveal. + +"You've no need to tell," replied Dorothy, speaking in a way to so +disconcert Mary that she said uneasily,-- + +"Oh, Dot, I thought you'd be glad it was so." + +At this, Dorothy threw her arms impulsively around the other girl's +neck. + +"I am glad, Mary," she exclaimed; "I am very, very glad. Only, I knew +long ago that you and Jack loved one another." Then, as she hugged her +closer, "But you won't love me less for what has befallen?" + +Her voice sounded as though the tears were coming again. + +Mary tightened her hold upon the slight form, and kissed the upturned +face upon which the moonbeams were resting. + +"Love you less, Dot?" she declared; "it only makes me love you far more +than before; and I have always loved you very dearly, as you well know." + +"And I want to be loved, Mary! I feel so lonely!" And now she was +crying once more. + +"Why, Dot," Mary asked, almost in alarm, "whatever ails you, crying +twice in the one evening? I scarce know what to think of you." + +"I wish I could see my father," Dorothy sobbed; "I wish I could see him +this minute. He always knows me and understands me, no matter what I +do or say." + +"You are just worn out, poor child," said Mary, in a soothing, motherly +fashion; "and no wonder, with all you've gone through this night. And +now," she added with decision, "I shall put you straight to bed, this +very minute. I want to go myself, but cannot until you become quiet." + +With this she began tugging at the fastenings of the unfamiliar +garments; and Dorothy, despite her tears, commenced to laugh, but in a +nervous, unnatural way. + +"Never mind," she said; "I will do all that, Mary, for I understand it +better than you. And," straightening herself, "I'll stop crying. I +never knew I could be such a fool." + +Long after Mary was sleeping, Dorothy was still lying awake listening +for her brother's return. She knew she would hear him, for his room +was just across the hall, opposite her own. + +As she nestled among the lavender-scented pillows, visions would keep +coming to her of the handsome face she had seen that morning, and again +that very night. The purple-hued eyes, edged so thickly with swart +curling lashes, seemed to be looking into her own, as when she held his +wounded head pillowed against her knee, while his voice yet thrilled in +her ears as had never any man's before. + +And then came the realization that this man was her country's avowed +enemy,--a hated Britisher! + +Her conscience smote her as she thought of the trick she had played +him, recalling how trustingly he had entered the dark shed, and how +silent he had been at first, when she slammed the door and shot the +wooden bar across. Then how fiercely he had seemed to fling his broad +shoulders against the door of his prison, making her fear that he would +be able to come forth and visit his wrath upon the audacious young +rebel who had served him such a trick. + +But she could find some comfort in thinking of how she had stolen back, +and called him by name, at which the blows became stilled; and of how +she had then told him to have no fear for his safety, as in a short +time he would be released, to go where he pleased. + +Mary, did she but know all these thoughts, would be angry, and call her +unfaithful to the cause. And Jack, and her father--what would her +father say to her? + +She had never in her life feared him. But now a quaking dread beset +her as to what the morrow might bring from him of censure and +displeasure. And at this she began to cry again--softly, but bitterly. + +Whether the girl knew it or not, her nerves had by this time become +strained to the uttermost; and sleep, the blessed healer that comes so +readily to the young and healthful, was beginning to woo her away from +all her troubles, when a slight noise startled her into new wakefulness. + +Listening intently, she heard her brother enter his room; and she heard +him say something to their father, who was passing on toward his own +apartments. + +Rising hastily, Dorothy thrust her little bare feet into some wool +slippers and drew a bed-gown over her night-dress; then she stole +softly across the passage to her brother's room. + +The door was ajar; and after tapping gently, she put up her small hands +to shield her eyes from the glare of the candle he held, as he came to +answer her summons, looking wonderingly out to see who it might be. + +"Dorothy!" he exclaimed, as he saw the little yellow-robed figure, and +the rumpled curls and drooping face. Then, stretching out his hand, he +drew her within the room and closed the door. + +"Dot, why are you not asleep at this hour? You will surely make +yourself ill." He crossed over to a small table and set down the heavy +silver candlestick, the light flaring in his weary, but always handsome +face, now looking all the darker from contrast with his snowy +linen--for he was in his shirt-sleeves. + +He came to her once more; and as she did not speak, he took her hands +from before her face and held them lovingly. "What is it, child--what +is troubling you?" + +"Mary has told me, Jack, and I wanted to tell you that I am glad." And +two great tears stole from her long lashes and ran down the rounded +cheeks, whose bloom was paler than he had ever seen it. + +"And is that the face you wear, Dot, when you are joyful?" he asked +gently, but with a smile. "What is it, child?" he urged, as she did +not speak. "I am so happy to-night, and I cannot bear to see you in +tears; it hurts me." + +"Ah, no, Jack," she cried, throwing her arms around his neck. "I don't +want to hurt you." + +He held her fast, and laid his cheek against her own, as he said +softly: "Is it that you are jealous of me, or of--Mary? Is it that you +think I cannot love her and love you as well?" + +"No, no! Oh, no! It is n't that, Jack. I know you love me, and will +always, as long as I live--just as I love you. I am happy to have Mary +for my own sister; but I--I--" And she broke down again. + +"Now see here, little girl," he said, stroking the round white arm her +fallen-back sleeve left bare; "don't fret in your heart about to-night, +or whatever you may have done. It is never any use to worry over what +is past and gone. 'T is not a maidenly act, Dot, for a girl to array +herself in men's garments, and you must never do it again. But we must +all admit that 't was a lucky thing you did it this night; and the help +you rendered us far more than makes up for your own thoughtlessness. +So you need fear no blame on account of it." + +"Does father know?" she asked nervously. + +"Not as yet; but I will tell him the whole story of your bravery, so +he'll not misjudge you." + +She raised her face and kissed him; then after a little hesitation she +asked shyly, "And the Britisher I locked in the shed,--did you release +him, as you said you would?" + +Jack smiled down into the upturned face. "He was gone when Hugh and I +got there; and the bar was wrenched off, sockets and all." + +"He is strong," Dorothy said, a light coming to her eyes that her +brother did not see; and she laughed softly. + +"Well, had he the strength of Samson, he'd best take heed to himself +how he comes prowling about my father's premises at unseemly hours." + +He spoke with angry emphasis; and Dorothy was glad the two had not met. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +The men of the house breakfasted at the usual hour next morning, and +with them were only Aunt Lettice and 'Bitha, Mary Broughton and Dorothy +being permitted to sleep until later, when 'Bitha, despatched by her +grandmother, went to arouse them. + +She first awoke Dorothy by kissing her; then she asked with childish +solicitude, "Why do you lie abed so late, Cousin Dot,--are you ill?" + +The big dark eyes gazed at the child in bewilderment, and then came a +flash of recollection. + +"Ill--no. Where is Mary, and why are you here, 'Bitha?" + +"Mary is still asleep, and grandame sent me to wake both of you." Then +she looked curiously at the carelessly heaped up masculine garb on a +nearby chair, and asked, "Are those Cousin Jack's clothes, Dot, and why +did he leave them here?" + +Dorothy's color deepened. "Never mind, now, 'Bitha," she said hastily, +"but go and awaken Mary; then run back to Aunt Lettice, and say we will +be down directly. But stop--where is every one--have you breakfasted +yet?" + +The child laughed. "Long ago," she said. "Cousin Jack and Hugh +Knollys have gone off to town on horseback, and Uncle Joseph is away on +the farm somewhere." + +Dorothy's movements were lacking in their usual youthful vitality as +she moved listlessly about the room. She stood in front of her +mahogany dressing-case, looking into the tipped-over mirror,--that only +in this way could reflect the face and head surmounting her in no wise +average height--and was brushing out the tangle of curly locks, when +Mary Broughton came into the room, her hair hanging about her like a +veil of gold, reaching almost to her knees. + +"Good-morning, Dot," she said smilingly. "You were so quiet that I +thought you were yet sleeping." And she turned to go back to her own +apartment. + +But Dorothy called out: "Don't go yet! Oh! Mary, do you know I am +dreading so to go downstairs and meet my father. I wonder if he will +be angry at what I did last night? He was never angry with me in all +my life." And she turned her troubled eyes away from the glass, for +which indeed she seemed to have little use, so slight was the note she +was taking of the reflection it showed. + +"I hope not," Mary replied, but her voice had a touch of doubt, "for he +would surely be angry with me as well, for abetting you in what you +did. But you remember what Jack said last night; would not your father +take the same view of the matter?" + +The color deepened in her cheeks as she spoke her lover's name; and +this seemed to bring a new recollection to Dorothy. + +"Oh, Mary," she cried, "I'd clean forgot, for the moment, all that has +befallen." With this she rushed impetuously across the room and caught +Mary about the neck. The latter blushed redder than before, while she +laughingly disengaged Dorothy's arms. Then urging her to hurry and +dress, she hastened back to her own room. + +The two girls had finished breakfast and were out on the porch in front +of the house, when the hearty tones of Joseph Devereux were heard +within, asking Tamson, the red-cheeked housemaid, after her young +mistress. + +"Here I am, father," answered a low, agitated voice; and Dorothy stood +before him, looking quite pale, and with eyes downcast. + +"Come with me, my daughter," he commanded, and led the way into the +library. + +He closed the door after them, and seated himself, while Dorothy +remained standing, her hands loosely clasped and her eyes still bent on +the floor, her attitude being much like that of a culprit before a +judge. + +"Come here, child," and his voice was a trifle unsteady. "Why do you +stand there and look so strangely?" + +For answer, she sank upon her knees before him and laid her face in his +lap; and a grateful thrill went through her as she felt his fingers +stroking her curly head in his usual loving fashion. + +"Ye madcap!" he exclaimed after a short silence. "Whatever possessed +ye?" + +"Oh, father, don't be angry with me!" + +At this, he leaned over, and drawing her into his arms, lifted her to +his knee. + +"Angry with you, my little Dot!" he said. "My precious, brave little +girl, how could I be that, except it were for your risking so +carelessly the life that is so dear to my old heart?" + +All the sternness of his face had given place to an expression of +loving pride. + +"One cannot censure an eagle, my baby," he went on,--"that it be not +born a barnyard fowl or a weak pigeon. It would seem that a higher +power than of poor mortality must have put it into your head and heart +to do what you did last night. And I've no word of blame for your +having togged yourself out in Jack's clothes. Many a heroine has done +a like thing before you. If Joan of Arc had been more like most +womenfolk, no doubt many would have reckoned her more properly behaved, +according to the laws laid down by men for the behavior o' women. But +who dare question the bravery and unselfishness of her deeds? And you, +my baby, were our Joan of Arc last night!" + +All this was balm to her troubled heart. But she could not speak, and +only hugged him more tightly around the neck as she wept on his +shoulder. + +"Here--hoity toity!" he said presently. "What manner o' bravery be +this--crying for naught?" + +She raised her head, but before she could reply, they were both +startled by a noisy trampling of horses in front of the house, and +strange voices coming in through the open windows. + +Hastily wiping away her tears, Dorothy sprang from her father's lap and +ran to look out. + +"Oh, father," she cried, turning to him in dismay, "here be a lot of +British soldiers on horseback! Whatever can they have come for?" + +He hurried out, Dorothy close by his side, to meet face to face at the +open door a tall young officer coming up the steps with much clanking +of sabre and jingling of spurs, while on the driveway were a dozen +mounted troopers, one of whom held the rein of a spirited gray horse. + +The officer raised his hat, and his sea-blue eyes, keen as steel, +looked with smiling fearlessness straight into the lowering face of +Joseph Devereux. Then they changed like a flash, and with swift +significance, as they fell upon the slight figure shrinking close +beside him. + +"Sir," he asked, "are you Joseph Devereux?" + +"As you say," was the calm reply. "And what might an officer of His +Majesty's army want with me?" + +"Only an audience," the young man answered respectfully. "I wish to +assure you, in case of its being needful, of my good will, and of my +desire to see that your person and property are guarded from annoyance +during our stay in your neighborhood." + +The old man frowned, and drew his tall figure to its full height. + +"It would seem a strange chance," he replied haughtily, "that should +put such a notion into your mind, young sir. I've lived here as boy +and man these seventy years and more, and my fathers before me for well +beyond one hundred years; and I 've needed no protection o' my own +rights save such as God and my own townsfolk have accorded me as my +just due." + +"Such may have been the case before now, sir," the officer said, his +eyes still fixed upon Dorothy's blushing face; "but troublesome times, +such as these, have brought changes that should, methinks, make you +take a somewhat different view of matters." + +"The times may be troublesome, as you say; but even should they grow +more so, I have my country's cause too truly at heart to desire favors +from its enemies." + +"I am an enemy only should you determine to make me one; and this I +trust you will not." He still smiled pleasantly, as though bent upon +accomplishing whatever object he had in view. + +"The color o' the coat you wear has determined that matter already," +was Joseph Devereux's grim answer. + +But the young man was proof against even this pointed rebuff, for he +laughed, and said with reckless gayety, "Think you not, sir, 't is a +bit unjust to refuse good fellowship to a man because of the color of +his garb?" + +"A truce to this nonsense, young sir!" exclaimed the old man, his +impatience rapidly changing to anger. "Since you are about my premises +in the manner you are, 't is certain you can in no wise be ignorant o' +reasons existing which make it needless for me to say that I desire +naught to do with you, nor your fellows." + +The officer bowed, and with a slight shrug of his broad shoulders, +resumed his hat. + +"So be it, sir," he said, while the smile left his olive-hued face, +"although I deeply regret your decision. But before I go, I must have +speech with a young son of yours." + +Dorothy moved still closer to her father, and turned a troubled look up +into his face. + +"My son, sir," he answered stiffly, "is not at home." + +"No? Then pray tell me where I am like to find him." + +"He has gone to the town on affairs of his own." + +"They are like to be affairs of great weight." The young man's voice +had a note of sarcasm. + +"Whatever they be, they can assuredly be no concern of an officer o' +the King." + +"That is for me to decide, sir," the soldier retorted with evidently +rising anger. "He has done that which gives me good cause to put him +in irons, should I choose to be vengeful." + +"What mean ye?" the old man demanded with flashing eyes. + +"I mean," replied the other, slowly, "he shall be taught that he cannot +play boyish pranks upon His Majesty's officers with impunity." + +"It would seem you are better aware o' what you are prating of than am +I," said Joseph Devereux, now laying a reassuring hand over the small +one that had stolen tremblingly into his own. "As for my son playing +'boyish pranks,' as you say, he would scarcely be likely to turn back +to such things in his twenty-eighth year." + +"Do you mean me to understand that your son is so old as that?" was the +officer's surprised inquiry. + +"I care little of what your understanding may be," was the indifferent +reply; "but such is the fact." + +"And have you no other son--a young boy?" + +"I have not, as any one can tell you." + +The young man bit his lips, and looked perplexed. Then, as his eyes +turned to Dorothy's flushed face, he smiled again, and said, as though +addressing her, "I beg pardon for any seeming incivility; but there +would appear to be some mystery here." + +"No mystery, young man," answered Joseph Devereux, with unbending +severity, "save to wonder why you should come riding to our door in the +fashion you have, with a troop o' your fellows, when we have no liking +for the entertainment of any such company." + +The officer still smiled, but now sarcastically. "It can scarcely be +claimed that you have entertained me, sir. But since I find my +presence so disagreeable to you, I will bid you good-morning." + +He bowed haughtily to the old man, while his eyes still lingered upon +Dorothy's face. Then turning quickly, he strode down the steps, and +mounted his horse, the servants, who had gathered about, falling away +from before him. + +Mary Broughton and Aunt Lettice, who had been standing in the hall +listening to the colloquy, now came out to the porch and stood with the +others watching the scarlet-clad troop clatter noisily down the +driveway, following the rapid pace set by their youthful leader. + +John Devereux and Hugh Knollys, returning from the town, met them just +within the open gate, and drew to one side, watching them with scowling +brows as they dashed past; and the young officer turned in his saddle +to glance over his shoulder, as if something in the former's face had +caught his attention. + +"What did those Britishers want here, father?" the son asked, as he and +Hugh came up the steps, leaving their horses with Leet and Pashar. + +"He would seem to wish to assure us of his courtesy and good-will; and +when I declined these, he demanded to see my son, whom he accused of +playing a boyish prank upon a King's officer, and threatened him with +irons, should he catch the rogue." + +All eyes were now turned upon Dorothy, who laid her blushing face +against her father's arm as she stood clasping it. + +Jack muttered something under his breath; and Hugh, his face alight +with mischief, said, "May his search take up all the attention of +himself and his soldiers, which will be all the better for us." Then +stretching out his hand to Dorothy, he said with a sudden change of +manner, "Will you shake hands, Dorothy?" + +"What for?" she asked, still clinging to her father's arm. + +"As my way of thanking you that I am a free man this morning, and not, +perchance, in irons myself, and on the road to the Governor, at Salem." + +She laid her small hand in his broad palm, and the look he gave her as +his fingers closed over it seemed to make her uncomfortable. + +"It was very little I did," she declared quietly, drawing her hand away. + +"So it may seem to you," he said gravely. "But had it not been done, +the things that might have followed would show you otherwise." + +In the afternoon the four young people set out to ride over to Hugh's +place, where a widowed mother was anxiously expecting the arrival of +her boy--and only child. + +Jack, for reasons now well understood, kept close to Mary's +bridle-rein; so it befell that Dorothy and Hugh were thrown upon one +another's society more intimately than for some time heretofore. + +As they rode leisurely along the Salem turnpike toward their +destination, which lay away from the town, the young man exclaimed +suddenly, "I don't believe another girl living would dare do such a +thing, Dorothy, as you did last night!" + +"Do cease prattling of last night," she said impatiently. "I am sick +to death hearing of it." + +"Are you?" And Hugh's laughing eyes widened with sober surprise. "I +see no call for you to be so." + +"I did not ask that you should," was the tart answer, a wilful toss of +her head accompanying the sharp words. + +"Why, Dorothy, whatever ails you?" And he looked more surprised than +hurt at this new phase of his quondam playfellow's disposition. + +She did not reply; and Hugh, seeing a glitter of tears in her eyes, +said nothing more. + +And so they plodded along in utter silence; the two ahead of them +seeming to find no need for haste, and conversing earnestly, as though +greatly entertained by each other's company. + +The thickly planted cornfields rose on either side of their way, and +the afternoon sun flickered the landscape with fleeting shadows from +the clouds sailing in the blue overhead, while now and again there came +a glimpse of the sea. + +Everything about them was quiet, save the breathing of the horses and +the noise of their trappings. + +At length, coming within sight of the Knollys homestead, the two in +front drew rein and waited for their companions to join them. + +Dorothy gave the impatient mare her head, and rode up briskly, with +Hugh not far behind; and then all four went clattering through the gate +and up the grass-grown roadway, halting before the porch of the low +frame house that stood surrounded by thickly planted fields running +back to meet sloping wooded hills, with grassy meadows intervening, +where flocks of sheep and many cows were grazing peacefully. + +A sweet-faced old lady--Hugh's mother--came out of the door and greeted +them cordially, but first casting a searching glance at her son. Then +bidding a servant take their horses to the stable, she invited them to +come within. + +But Hugh said: "No, mother; Sam need not take the horses away. We can +stop but a short time, and then I must go back to remain in town for +the night. I only rode over--and these kind folk with me--to see how +you were faring without having me to look after matters, and to assure +you of my well being; for I know how you like to fret if I stop away +long enough to give you the chance." + +"You are a saucy boy," his mother replied, but with a look that belied +her words; then turning to the two girls, she asked after their +fathers, and inquired particularly about each member of their +households. + +She listened eagerly to the news of the town, and its latest doings; +the color, fresh as a girl's, coming and going in her cheeks, and +making a dainty contrast with the snowy muslin of her mob-cap and the +kerchief wound about her throat and crossed over her ample bust. + +"And have any of these red-coated gallants stolen their way to the +hearts of you two girls?" she asked banteringly,--her eyes upon Mary +Broughton's beautiful face. + +Jack's eyes were there as well; and Hugh alone saw the sudden mounting +of the blood to Dorothy's cheeks and the troubled drooping of her +eyelids. + +John Devereux rose from his chair, and taking Mary's hand, led her to +the old lady. + +"I am that one, good Mistress Knollys," he said proudly, "who has +stolen his way to this sweet girl's true heart; and you are the first, +outside the family, to know of it." + +"Dearie me!" exclaimed Mistress Knollys, in a happy fluttered way, as +she drew Mary's blushing face down and gave her a hearty kiss. "I +always suspected it would be so; and I am sure every one will wish you +joy, as I do with all my heart." Then turning to her son, "Hugh, dear, +get some wine and cake, and let us pledge our dear friends. With all +these Britishers bringing trouble upon us, who can say how much chance +there'll be left for joyful doings?" + +She bustled about with a beaming face, doing herself most of the +setting forth she had requested of her son. But Hugh's face looked far +graver than was its wont; his eyes strayed over to Dorothy, who was now +laughing and chatting like the rest, and he seemed to be puzzling over +a matter for which he could not find a ready solution. + +It was later than they thought when they set out upon their return, +Mistress Knollys urging them to come again soon, and saying, as she +kissed Dorothy last of all: "It ever makes me feel young again, my dear +child, to have you in the house. And now that your brother and Mary +have one another, and your father has one more daughter, they can spare +you to your old friend with better grace." + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +The air was yet chill with the fresh north-wind, that had blown all +day, to go down only with the sun, while the misty horizon of the +afternoon was now a well-defined fog-bank rolling in from over the sea, +and sending a damp breath in advance of its own coming. + +"We shall have a nasty night," said Hugh, looking at the smoke-like +wall. He and Dorothy were again riding side by side, with the other +two just ahead, but out of ear-shot, and they were making a short +detour across the fields, their course taking them past the Jameson +place. + +It was a pretentious-looking house, painted white, with green blinds; +and a broad piazza was set back amid the fluted columns that ran up to +support the upper floor, whose dormer windows jutted out among the +branches of the oak and elm trees. On the piazza, were several +scarlet-coated gentry. + +"Enjoying himself, no doubt, with rogues of his own ilk," was John +Devereux's comment, as he looked over his shoulder at Hugh,--the two +now being quite close to one another. + +"There might be a thousand rather than a hundred of the redcoats at the +Neck, by the way they seem to be ever turning up about the place," Hugh +muttered in reply, without taking the trouble to look toward the house. + +"And here come some more," announced Mary, in a tone of disgust, as +half-a-dozen scarlet coats appeared suddenly in the field before them. + +They were riding at a reckless pace which soon brought them abreast of +the four, who were now taking their way quite soberly. And as they +swept past, the officer in the rear doffed his hat, while he bent his +eyes upon Dorothy's flushed face with an intensity that made Hugh +Knollys say half aloud, "The impudent young dog--what does he mean?" + +Mary Broughton sat rigidly in her saddle, turning her head away at +sight of the face disclosed by the uplifted hat. But Dorothy smiled +shyly into the bright, daring eyes. + +A little farther along they came upon three fishermen trudging the same +way as they were bound, one of them being young Bait, whose attempt at +singing had brought upon him Doak's wrath the night before. + +"Jameson be givin' a dinner to some o' the redcoats," he said, as the +riders overtook him and his companions, one of whom added angrily,-- + +"An' he best have a care that he don't get his roof burnt over him an' +his d----d King's friends." + +"Have a care yourself, man," said John Devereux, warningly. "'T is not +wise to do aught yet that will give them a handle to use for our own +hurt." + +"Aye," muttered the third, "that may do for now. But if Jameson don't +go with his own sort when they leave the place, it may not be so easy +for him as it has been in the past." + +"How long, think ye, Master John, afore the redcoats quit the Neck?" +inquired Bait. + +"That were a hard matter for any one to say," was the young man's +reply. Then, as he urged his horse forward, he turned to add over his +shoulder, "But take my advice, and avoid any brawling with the +soldiers, for the present, should you run foul of them." + +"That will have to be as it may," one of the men answered doggedly, +"accordin' as to how they mind their own affairs and let us alone." + +"We shall come to have fighting in our streets yet, Jack; you may be +sure of it," said Hugh Knollys. "Our men can never brook with any +patience the swaggering of these impudent fellows." + +The other glanced at him warningly, with a significant motion of the +head toward Dorothy; but the girl did not appear to notice their talk, +and was looking dreamingly away into the distance. + +Mary Broughton, who was slightly in advance, turned her head; and Hugh +saw how her blue eyes were kindling as she exclaimed, "I, for one, +should not care if we _did_ come to blows! I'd like to see our men +show the Britishers that they cannot have matters altogether their own +way down here." + +"Would you like to take a gun yourself, Mary, and help teach them this +lesson?" was Hugh's laughing question. + +"Yes," she declared resolutely. "And I am sure I could handle it, too." + +"You'll never need to do that, sweetheart, so long as I live to carry +out your mind," said Jack, who had been wondering why Hugh looked at +Dorothy so oddly, and why she was so strangely silent. + +When the early evening meal was over that night, the two young men took +their way into the town, where a meeting was to be held. + +Old Leet rowed them down, they preferring this as being least likely to +attract notice; and avoiding the old wharf, they landed on the beach, +near the warehouses, thence taking their way cautiously through the +fish-flakes that filled the fields, until they reached the streets up +in the town. These were deserted, but filled with lurking shadows, +being dimly lit by a stray lamp fastened here and there to the +buildings. + +They walked slowly toward the town hall, while they talked in low tones +of Jameson, making no doubt but that his attentions and hospitality to +the Britishers would be known and commented upon at the meeting. + +When close to the hall a wild clamor broke out from somewhere ahead of +them; and they hurried forward to learn what it might mean. + +It was a street fight between the redcoats and the townspeople; and +although no powder was being used, strong arms and hard fists were +doing almost as painful work. + +The British frigate "Lively" had dropped anchor in the harbor at +sunset, and as soon as darkness came, a press-gang had been sent on +shore to capture such sturdy fishermen as might be abroad, and impress +them into the service of His Majesty's navy. + +Several men had already been taken, and they were resisting most +lustily, while such of their friends as chanced to be in the streets +were coming to their rescue. + +But these were few in number, as most of the citizens who were not at +their homes were now gathered in the town hall, awaiting the opening of +the meeting, which was to be of more than usual importance, as measures +were to be taken with respect to the new tyranny indicated by the +presence of soldiers quartered upon the Neck. + +While the two young men paused on a street corner overlooking the +combatants, hesitating as to what might be the best thing for them to +do, the light from a house over the way shone down upon one figure, as +though singling it out from the others. + +It was that of a swarthy, strongly built young fellow, taller than most +of those about him, and with a bright, resolute face. Hatless, and in +his shirt-sleeves, he was raining heavy blows upon such of the enemy as +sought to lay hands on him. + +"'T is Jem Mugford!" exclaimed Hugh. "See, Jack, what a gallant fight +he is making for himself!" + +Mugford was well known in the town, and was already, despite his youth, +the captain of a merchant vessel. He had been but recently married; +and Jack and Hugh recalled the sunny morning when they saw him, looking +so handsome and happy, alongside the pretty girl he had just taken for +his wife. + +They both, moved by the same impulse, now made a dash toward him; but +the surging crowd--of friends and foes alike--came between in a way to +frustrate their intention. Then, while they were still struggling to +reach him, there went up a loud, angry shout bristling with vigorous +oaths: "They've got Jem! They've got him an' carried him off! Squael +'em, squael 'em!"[1] + + +[1] "Rock them!" i.e. "Throw rocks at them!" + + +The cries and tumult were deafening; and the dark mass rolled slowly +down the street, leaving the young men almost alone. + +"'T is an outrage!" exclaimed Hugh Knollys, panting from his unavailing +exertions. "We need all of us to carry guns to guard against such +dastardly work. What will his poor wife do, and her father, now that +they'll not have Jem to look to for support and defence?" + +"I take it she will not lack for good defenders," answered Jack, his +voice trembling with anger, "not so long as you and I live in the town, +to say naught of his other friends. With the enemy in our harbor, and +amongst us in the very town, the quicker we arm the better, say I. Let +us go first to see Mistress Mugford, and then we'll go to the hall." + +But Hugh held back, for he had a wholesome dread of women's tears and +hysterics. + +"There will be plenty to tell her the bad news, poor soul," he said; +"and women, too, who will know best how to console and comfort her." + +Jack saw the force of this, and did not press the matter; so they took +their way to the town hall, which was already crowded, although its +tightly shuttered windows gave no sign of the life within. The door +was strongly barred, and only opened to the new-comers after they had +satisfied the sentinel on guard of their right to be admitted. + +Gray heads and brown were there, the old and the young, representing +the best blood of the town. And there was a generous sprinkling of +weather-beaten and stout-hearted sailors and fishermen, who listened +silently, with grave faces and eager eyes, to all that was said. + +The talk was for the most part a review of matters considered at former +meetings, to the effect that Parliament, being a body wherein no member +represented the colonies, had yet undertaken the making of laws +affecting not only the property, but the liberty and lives of His +Majesty's American subjects--it was argued that such right did not +exist, nor any authority to annul or in any manner alter the charter of +the Province, nor to interfere with its councillors, justices, +sheriffs, or jurors. + +The matter of the British soldiers being quartered upon the Neck was +also taken up, and with it the outrage committed that very evening by +the press-gang; and in view of these attacks upon the peace of the town +it was deemed wise to push forward at once the measures already +agitated looking to protection and safety. + +The fort was to be repaired, and put in condition for proper defence. +The militia consisted at this time of a regiment of seven companies of +active, well-disciplined men, but under the command of officers +commissioned by Governor Gage or his predecessors. It was deemed +expedient that these should no longer act, but that they should be +replaced by others chosen by vote of the town. And every citizen +should possess himself of a firearm and bayonet, both in good order, +and should be equipped with thirty rounds of cartridges and ball, as +well as a pouch and knapsack. + +It was also resolved that effectual measures be taken for the +silencing, or expulsion from the community, of those "ministerial tools +and Jacobites," who persisted in opposing the action of the various +committees, or else held themselves aloof from taking part in the +measures needful to protect the rights of the Province and people. + +These men who thus spoke and conferred with each other were an +impressive embodiment of the spirit which actuated the entire +community. Their looks and words were glowing with prayerful +earnestness, their manner full of dignity and solemnity. + +The memory of these,--of their lofty ideality of aspiration, of the +purity of their principles and motives, their love of country and +integrity of purpose,--all this is a sacred treasure for the old town, +and one still potent with patriotic influence. + +Theirs was not the courage that shows forth in bravado, and which +delights, from mere exuberance of spirit, in defying peril for its own +sake. Rather was it the true, deeper courage of devotion,--the courage +that sacrificed self for others, and which for principle and what was +deemed simple duty was ready to endure all things. It was the devotion +that would accept all results, would meet death, if needs be, or wear +life away in slow suffering. + +Such courage was the solid material, not the flash and glitter that +pleases and bewilders, and then is as unremembered as is the pebble a +child tosses into the sea, and having watched the ripple it makes, +never thinks of again. + +All this has become the priceless jewel of our national history for all +time, the salt that gives savor to our country's life. The keynote of +it was this,--these men truly loved their country, and were its loyal, +steadfast friends. And are we not told from the highest of all high +sources that "Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down +his life for his friends"? + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +It was nearly midnight when the two young men took their way back +through the fields to their boat and its faithful guardian. + +They were soon afloat, and none but Leet would have ventured to row so +steadily and rapidly down Great Bay in the fog that now shut in about +them like a wall of white wool, muffling all objects from sight. + +The stillness was intense, save for the lapping of the water on the +near-by shore,--this seeming to quicken the old darkey's acute +knowledge of the course he was rowing. + +The young men sat in either end of the boat, with Leet between them; +and not a word was spoken until the keel grated on the sand of +Riverhead Beach. + +The old negro required no light to secure the craft in its accustomed +place; and as the others stood waiting for him to do this, a faint +sound of galloping horses came to their cars, apparently from down +Devereux Lane, which led from the Salem road directly to the beach, and +so on to the Neck. + +They listened intently, while the sound came unmistakably nearer. + +"Hist, Jack!" said Hugh, in a low voice; "that must be the redcoats +coming from Jameson's dinner." + +"'T is sure to be, judging from the reckless fashion of their riding. +Leet, come with us,--'t is as well to step behind the boathouse until +they pass, for we want no challenging at this hour of the night." And +as John Devereux said this, he and his companions passed quickly behind +the small building. + +A dull yellow gleam showed smearingly through the fog as the horsemen +clattered by, with here and there a lantern fastened to their saddles; +and their loud laughter and boisterous talk seemed to bespeak a free +indulgence in good wines and liquors. + +As they struck the beach they fell into a more sober pace, and the last +two, riding side by side, were talking in tones that came distinctly to +the ears of those concealed behind the boathouse. + +"'T is like that Southorn hopes to obtain more certain information by +accepting the old fellow's hospitality," said one of them; "for it +cannot be that the wine is the only attraction, to judge from the way +he passed it by to-night." + +"Aye," was the reply. "He seemed not to care whether it were good +Christian fare we were having once more, or the dogs' food of the camp." + +"Maybe he is sickened, like the rest of us, with this heathen land and +its folk, and rues the day he ever left the only country fit for a man +to live in, to be sent to this strip o' land, with never a petticoat or +bright eye to make the stupid time a little more bearable." + +The other man laughed. "Perchance if we could but get speech with +Jameson's fair friend of whom he prated so much, we might be singing +another tune. What was it he called her--such a heathenish name it was +never my lot to hear before?" + +"He called her 'Mistress Penine;' but she is no blushing maid, for he +said--" + +Here the words, which had been growing less distinct, died away +altogether, and the glow of the lanterns was shut off by the fog, as +the clattering of hoofs became lost in the roar of the surf beating in +from the seaward side. + +John Devereux had refrained from acquainting Hugh with his father's +discovery of Aunt Penine's treachery; but now, as they walked toward +the house, he told him the facts. + +"Think you, Jack, that she has been holding any further communication +with Jameson?" Hugh asked. + +"That would seem most unlikely, for she has been confined to her room +since last Monday night, and both my father and Dot have been watchful +of the servants, although I do not believe there is a traitor amongst +them. As to Pashar, he is too young to rightfully sense what he was +doing, even if he had the wit. Fear of Aunt Penine on the one hand, +and a liking for Jameson's loose silver on the other, were his only +incentives; but dread of my father's displeasure has now put an end to +all that." + +He had persuaded Hugh to return with him for the night, instead of +going to the house of a married cousin living in the town, as he +proposed doing, for the reason that it would put him so much farther on +the way to his own place, whither he intended to ride the next morning, +notwithstanding it would be the Sabbath. + +They found the household long since retired, save only its head; and +when they were seated in the dining-room the young men gave him a +detailed account of the evening's doings. + +When this had been done, Joseph Devereux imparted to them his +determination to lodge with the committee the name of his +sister-in-law, to be listed with those of the other unfaithful +townspeople. He had also resolved that on the following Monday she +should be carried in his coach to her brother's house, in Lynn, for a +future residence. + +This had come from the fact that soon after the two young men had +departed for the town, a messenger from Jameson brought her a +communication. + +The fellow had refused to leave without a reply, until forced thereto +by the servants whom Joseph Devereux summoned for that purpose; and he +went away threatening vengeance upon the entire household when he +should have reported to his master the indignity to which he had been +subjected. + +"Do you know, father," asked Jack, "what it was to which he expected an +answer from Aunt Penine--I mean, anything as to the contents of the +letter?" + +"Nay, my boy. She refused to see me at first; and when I insisted upon +it, she became defiant, and would not converse with me o' the matter, +saying that it was her own concern, and naught to do with my business. +And so I told her that, such being the case, she should hold herself in +readiness to be driven to her brother's house on Monday, when she and +her concerns would give no further trouble to me or my household." + +"Jameson will not be safe a moment," said Hugh Knollys, "after the +redcoats are withdrawn. Indeed," he added, "'t would be no great +wonder if some of the fisherfolk should even now burn the roof over his +head." + +"'T is to be hoped they'll do no such thing," said the elder man, +shaking his head; "for 'twould surely be used as a pretence for +injuring the innocent,--perchance the townsfolk at large." + +He now turned to his son and said in a tone of deep anxiety: "By the +way, Jack, we must see to it that all be over-careful how such matters +be talked on before Dot. I know not what has come to the child. She +has been moody and unlike herself all the evening, starting at every +sound, as if fearful o' danger. And when she came to tell me +good-night awhile ago, she broke down in great weeping. I had much ado +to soothe her; and to all my questioning she had but the one answer, +that she did not know what ailed her, only that she felt as though her +heart would break." + +Jack looked very serious, and Hugh Knollys moved uneasily in his chair. +Then the former said: "Perhaps it is only that she is in a way unstrung +from the excitement of last night. I thought this afternoon that she +acted not quite like herself,--that she seemed to have something on her +mind. Did you not note it, Hugh?" + +Hugh started, and looked still more uncomfortable. His thoughts had +been dwelling upon Dorothy's unusual behavior during the afternoon. He +was thinking of her reticence and impatience,--of the acerbity of her +manner toward himself; and he recalled the quick flushing of her face +as the young officer lifted his hat. + +All this had made a distinct impression upon him; but the affair was +her own,--one which he felt reluctant to mention even to her father or +brother. And so, in answer to Jack's direct question, he uttered one +of the few falsehoods of his life. + +"Nay, Jack; I noted nothing unusual in her manner. I think as you, +that she has been a bit overwrought by last night's happenings. Ah," +he exclaimed, with animation, and glad to speak the truth once more, +"but it was a brave thing she did! And yet she likes to make naught of +it." + +"Dorothy is brave by nature," her father said, his eye's kindling with +pride. "And she is too young to comprehend the full weight o' what she +did, prompted as it was by impulse, and by love for her brother." Then +turning to Jack, he asked with a change of manner, "Did you see or hear +aught o' the British frigate on your way home?" + +"Nothing, father,--only, as I told you, that she dropped anchor in +Little Harbor, just as the darkness fell." + +"She'd not be likely to go from her anchorage in this fog." The old +man spoke musingly, while he slowly filled his pipe for a final smoke +before retiring for the night. + +"But I take it they will move from there as soon as may be, on account +of fearing the trouble they have a right to expect because of the men +they've stolen," Hugh said indignantly. + +"Yes," added Jack, "even if only to get into Great Bay, and closer to +their fellows on the Neck." + +"'T is a thousand pities they should have taken Mugford," the old +gentleman remarked, as he carefully lit his pipe. + +"Yes," his son assented; "it is in every way a pity, for if they wish +to invite trouble they could not have made a better opening for ill +feeling among the people of the town." + +"Indeed they could not," Hugh exclaimed hotly. "Every one is sure to +take Mugford's abduction to heart, and find a way to make the redcoats +answer for it." + +"We shall find a way, please God, to make them all answer for their +overbearing and insolence to us as a country as well as individuals," +Joseph Devereux said gravely. "And that reminds me, I had surely +thought Broughton and the rest o' the committee would have returned +from Boston this night." + +"He was very doubtful, as I think, of getting back before to-morrow, or +perhaps until Monday." And a dreamy look softened Jack's face, as if +he might be thinking of what was to be told when Nicholson Broughton +returned. + +"Jack, what a lucky beggar you are!" exclaimed Hugh, with a touch of +envy in his tone, as the two young men tarried a moment in the former's +room before saying good-night. + +Jack opened his eyes still wider, exactly after the fashion of Dorothy +when she was surprised. + +"You see," Hugh added nervously, "you love Mary Broughton, and she +loves you, and you have the approval and blessing of both fathers. Now +I--" Here he stammered, and then became silent. + +"What is it, Hugh--do you wish me to understand that you love Mary +yourself?" + +John Devereux spoke seriously, almost jealously, for an old suspicion +was beginning to awaken once more within him. + +But Hugh laughed in a way to forever remove any such feeling from his +friend's mind. + +"I--I love Mary!" he exclaimed. "I never dreamed of such a thing, +Jack, although I admit that she is very beautiful, and possesses +everything to call forth any man's best and deepest love. But, my dear +Jack, if you were not blinded, you might see that the world holds other +girls than Mary." And he looked wistfully at his friend, as if wishing +him to know something he hesitated to put into words. + +"Do you mean that you are in love with some one, Hugh?" asked Jack, +laying his hand on the other's broad shoulder. + +Hugh's blue eyes lowered as bashfully as those of a girl, and Jack, now +smiling at him, said, "Who is it--Polly Chine, over at the Fountain +Inn?" + +"Polly Chine!" Hugh answered disgustedly. "A great strapping +red-cheeked clatter-tongue, who can do naught but laugh?" + +"Well, if 't is not Polly, then I am all at sea, for I never knew you +to do more than speak to another girl, unless--" And he paused, as +something in Hugh's pleading eyes caught his attention and awoke his +senses with a rush. + +"Oh, Hugh--it surely is not--" But Knollys interrupted him. + +"Yes, Jack," he said with slow earnestness, "it is--Dorothy." + +Silence followed this avowal, and Jack's hand fell from his friend's +shoulder. Then with an incredulous laugh he said: "Dorothy--why she is +little more than a baby, with no thought beyond her horse and other +pets. 'T was not long since I came upon her playing at dolls with +little 'Bitha." + +"She will be seventeen her next birthday," Hugh retorted with some +impatience; "and that is but a year less than Mary Broughton's age." + +"Yes," Jack admitted. "But it is several months yet to Dot's birthday; +and those months, nor yet another year, can scarce give to my little +sister the womanly depth for sentiment and suffering that Mary now +possesses." + +"Think ye so, Jack?" said Hugh, as though inclined to argue the matter. +"You know 't is odd, sometimes, how little we guess aright the nature +of those akin to us, however dear we may love them." + +The young man sighed as he thought of the look he caught in Dorothy's +eyes when the olive-faced horseman uncovered his handsome head, and +also recalled the flushing of her cheeks at his mother's banter. + +Jack's hand was now once more upon Hugh's shoulder, and he said in his +warm, impulsive way: "See here, old fellow, I'd sooner have you for a +brother than any other man I know; and my father is well-nigh certain +to approve. Only I feel sure he would say what I now ask of you, and +that is, not to speak of such matters to little Dot--not yet awhile; +for it would only risk making her think of what otherwise might never +come into that wilful head of hers. And while there seem to be such +grave matters gathering for our attention, it were best not to give her +heart aught to trouble over." + +"Then you admit she might be woman enough to take to heart whatever ill +would come to me?" Hugh asked eagerly. + +Jack's answer was guarded, although not lacking in kindly feeling. + +"The child has a warm heart, Hugh, and has known you long enough to +feel deep sorrow should any evil come to you--which God forbid. But +take my advice, and do not stir deeper thought in her, to make her +sorrow like a woman, but let her keep her child's heart awhile longer." + +After the young men had bidden each other more than a usually cordial +good-night, Hugh Knollys remained seated for a long time in his own +room, his hands deep in his pockets, and his legs stretched to their +uttermost length. He was lost in thoughts that were neither entirely +pleasurable nor yet altogether lacking in that quality. + +He had loved Dorothy since she was a child, and he admired her +character far more than that of any girl he had ever known. The +reckless daring of her nature--the trait Aunt Penine had censured so +severely, and which the others of the family regarded somewhat +askance--met with a quick sympathy from his own impulsive temperament; +and this last outburst of her intrepid spirit had acted like a torch to +set aflame all his dreams and desires. And now the suspicion that some +sort of an understanding existed between the girl and this young +Britisher gave him a fierce desire to speak out, and claim for his own +that which he feared the other man might seek to take from him. + +And so he chafed at his friend's injunction, hoping as he did, that, +could he but obtain the first hearing, the redcoat's chances might be +weakened, if not destroyed altogether. + +As he sat here alone, there came to him like a flash the memory of one +late afternoon in a long-ago autumn, when, upon his return from a +fishing-trip, he found Dorothy--then a dimpled mite of seven or +eight--visiting his mother, as she often did in those days. + +The child had been left to amuse herself alone; and this she did by +taking down a powder-horn hanging upon the wall, filled with some +cherished bullets which Hugh was hoarding as priceless treasures. + +He seemed to see again the great dark room, lit only by the leaping +flames from the logs piled in the open fireplace, and the little +scarlet-clad child looking up with big startled eyes at his indignant +face as he stood in the doorway, while the precious bullets poured in a +rattling shower over the wooden' floor. He saw once more her look turn +to fiery anger, as he strode over and boxed her ears; and he could hear +the girlish treble crying, "Wait, Hugh Knollys, until I am as big as +you, and I'll hurt you sorely for that!" + +Aye, and she had already hurt him sorely, for all his breadth of +shoulder and length of limb; she had hurt him in a way to make all his +life a bitter sorrow should she now reject his love! + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +October had come, with an unusual glory of late wild-flowers and +reddened leaves. + +The soldiers were still quartered upon the Neck, and owing to the many +collisions between them and the townspeople, the Governor had seen fit +to augment the force. Several times the citizens had almost determined +to march to the Neck and exterminate the entire body of Britishers; but +wiser counsels prevailed, and no attack was made. + +Governor Gage had issued a proclamation forbidding the assembling of +the legislature which had been called to meet at Salem upon the fifth +of the month. But notwithstanding this interdiction it had convened +upon the appointed day, and resolved itself into a Provincial Congress. + +Azar Orne, Jeremiah Lee, and Elbridge Gerry were the delegates +representing Marblehead, and they took a prominent part in the +proceedings. A number of important matters were discussed and acted +upon, and a committee was appointed for "Observation and Prevention," +and with instructions to "co-operate with other towns in the Province +for preventing any of the inhabitants, so disposed, from supplying the +English troops with labor, lumber, bricks, spars, or any other material +whatsoever, except such as humanity requires." + +The loyalists in the town were still zealous in the King's cause, and +would not be silenced. And they entreated their neighbors and friends +to recede, before it became too late, from the position they had taken. +But the only reply of the patriots was, "Death rather than submission!" +And they went on making provision for the organization of an army of +their own. + +Companies of "Minute Men" were enlisted, and these were disciplined and +equipped. A compensation of two shillings per day was to be allowed +each private; and to sergeants, drummers, fifers, and clerks, three +shillings each. First and second lieutenants were to receive four +shillings sixpence, and captains, five shillings. Pay was to be +allowed for but three days in each week, although a service of four +hours a day was required. + +The town house was now filled--as were also most of the warehouses and +other buildings--with the stored goods of Boston merchants, who were +suffering from the operation of the Port Bill, which had closed that +harbor to their business. And owing to this, as also by reason of the +greater advantage afforded for securing privacy, the townsmen now held +their meetings at the old tavern on Front Street, which faced the +water, thus giving a good opportunity for observing the movements of +the enemy upon the Neck. + +John Glover, one of the town's foremost men, and a stanch patriot, +lived near here; and he was now at the head of the regiment in which +were John Devereux and Hugh Knollys,--the former being second +lieutenant in the company of which Nicholson Broughton was captain, and +in whose ranks Hugh was serving as a private. + +Soon after his return from Boston, Broughton had closed his own house, +deeming it too much exposed to the enemy for the safety of his +daughter, who was compelled during his many absences to remain there +alone with the servants; and Mary had gone with them to the house of a +married aunt--Mistress Horton--living in a more retired portion of the +town, away from the water. + +He had consented, in response to the urging of his prospective +son-in-law, that the wedding should take place before the winter was +over. And thus it was that Mary, being busy with preparations for the +event, left Dorothy much to herself,--more, perhaps, than was well for +her at this particular time. + +Aunt Penine had departed upon the day her brother-in-law fixed; but +under Aunt Lettice's mild guidance, coupled with Tyntie's efficient +rule, the household went on fully as well as before,--better, indeed, +in many respects, for there was no opposing will to make discord. + +The tory Jameson still remained under an unburned roof, despite the +mutterings against him; and he continued to entertain the redcoats with +lavish hospitality. + +Several times, during trips to and from the Knollys house, Dorothy, +escorted by Hugh or her brother--sometimes by both--or by old Leet, had +encountered the young officer. But nothing more than a bow and smile +had passed between them since the morning he had turned so haughtily +from her father's presence. + +It was about the middle of the month, and the shutters of all the +windows were opened wide to let in the flood of autumn sunshine as the +family sat at breakfast; and the silver service in front of Aunt +Lettice glinted like little winking eyes where it caught the golden +flood. + +Her delicate white hands had poured out the sweetened hot milk and +water which she and 'Bitha drank in lieu of tea, while her +brother-in-law, busy with looking over a copy of the "Salem Gazette" +brought by his son the night before, was letting his coffee cool. + +Jack himself, after a hastily despatched breakfast, had already gone +into the town, where he had matters of importance to look after, not +the least of them being to dine at the Hortons' with Mary and her +father; and he would not return until late in the evening. + +Dorothy had little to say, seeming to be busy with her own thoughts; +but she could not help smiling as little 'Bitha murmured softly, "Oh, +grandame, I am all full of glory by now, for I caught a lot of sunshine +on my spoon and swallowed it." + +"And you'll be full of a mess, child, if you stir your porridge about +in such reckless fashion," said Aunt Lettice, smiling as her eyes met +Dorothy's. + +"Dot," her father now asked suddenly, lifting his eyes from the paper, +"when did you last see old Ruth Lecrow?" + +Dorothy started, and her big eyes turned to him with a troubled look as +she answered, "It is all of a month since I saw her." + +The girl's conscience smote her, as never before had she neglected for +so long a time to go and see the faithful carer of her own motherless +infancy, or else send needful provision for her impoverished old age. + +"A month!" her father repeated. "How is that, my child?" Then with a +searching, anxious look into her downcast face, he said more gently: +"You had best take Leet, and go to Ruth this very morning. The air and +sun be fine enough to bring back the roses to your cheeks. I am +thinking that you stop within doors too much o' late." + +Before Dorothy could reply, Aunt Lettice reminded him that Leet was to +meet Jack in the town that morning. + +"Then I will walk, father," the girl said, "and take Pashar." + +With this she arose from the table and was about to leave the room, +when 'Bitha put in a petition that she might accompany her. + +"No, 'Bitha," interposed her grandmother, "you made such a froach[1] of +your sampler yesterday that you have it all to do over again this +morning, as you promised me." She spoke with gentle firmness, and the +child hung her head in silence. + + +[1] Spoiled work. + + +"Never mind, 'Bitha," Dorothy said soothingly, as she touched the small +blonde head,--"mayhap we can have Leet take us to see Mistress Knollys +this afternoon." + +"I'd sooner go on the water, Dot," the child suggested timidly. Then +turning to the head of the house, she asked: "Cannot we go out in one +of the boats, Uncle Joseph? We've not been on the water for a long +time." And the blue eyes were lifted pleadingly to the old gentleman, +who had just set down his emptied cup. + +"Nay, my child," he answered, "that you must not; and for the same +reason that none have been for so long a time. None o' ye must go nigh +the boats until the redcoats be gone from the Neck." + +"When will they go?" asked 'Bitha, pouting a little. "They have +spoiled our good times for long past. We cannot go anywhere as we +used." + +"Nor can others older than you, my child," he said with an unmirthful +smile, as he arose from the table. "The soldiers are a pest in the +town, little one. But till the King sees fit to call them off, or we +find a way to make them go, you must be content to stop nigh the house, +and away from the boats." Then he added teasingly, as he put his hand +upon her head, "The redcoats may carry you off, if you put yourself in +their way." + +'Bitha shook off his hand as she gave her small head a belligerent +toss. "If they tried to do that, Uncle Joseph, I'd push them over the +rocks, as Mary Broughton did that redcoat we met in the cave. And oh, +Dot,"--turning to her--"that 'minds me that the other day when I was +with Leet and Trent, down in the ten-acre lot, that same redcoat was +there, sitting in the door of the shed, with his horse standing nigh. +And when he saw us coming, he hurried away. And Trent said 't was +lucky no sheep were within the shed for him to steal." + +"He is a gentleman, 'Bitha, and would no more steal my father's sheep +than would you or I!" + +Dorothy's voice was full of indignation, and the child's eyes opened +wide at its unusual sharpness. But this, as well as her heightened +color, her father and Aunt Lettice ascribed to embarrassment at being +reminded of her exploit of the past summer. + +All the outside world lay flooded in the warm golden sunshine that +blunted the cold edge of the wind rushing from the north, where sullen +cloud-banks were piling up in a way to threaten a change of weather +before night. The sea lay a floor of molten silver and burnished +steel, and the crows called incessantly from the woods. + +Dorothy chose to take a short cut across the fields to old Ruth's +abode; and while skirting the ten-acre lot, she cast a furtive glance +toward the large shed, as if expecting to see a scarlet coat in the +doorway. + +But only the homespun-clad form of Trent was there, letting out a large +flock of sheep, who came gambolling about him, and then dispersed over +the dry brown grass, where a bright green patch showed here and there. + +"'T was queer, Mist'ess Dor'thy, dat we nebber foun' de two cows dat +strayed so long 'go, don't ye t'ink?" inquired Pashar, who followed +close behind her with a big basket on his arm. + +Dorothy, intent upon her own affairs, did not reply, and the boy went +on: "Trent say now dat he b'leebe de redcoats stole 'em, fo' sure." + +"How could that be," she asked sharply, "when the cows were missing +before any soldiers came down here?" + +"I dunno, Mist'ess--on'y dat's what Trent say, an' what we all b'leebe." + +Here Dorothy was startled by a wild, shrill yell from the boy, and +turned quickly to see the cause of it. The sheep had discovered a +broken place in the fence, and were trooping through it en masse; and +if once out of the field, there was nothing to bar their way to +Riverhead Beach. + +Trent had already started in pursuit, but it was easy to see that many +of the flock would be on the other side of the fence before he could +stop them. + +"Give me the basket," Dorothy said to the negro boy, "and go to help +Trent. Then come to Ruth's after me." + +She had scarcely spoken when he, giving her the basket, uttered another +wild yell and was off, speeding after the wayward sheep. He was soon +alongside Trent, who had stopped to put some bars across the opening, +at which the few detained animals were now poking with eager noses. +But these scattered quickly when Pashar, with renewed shouts, charged +through them and vaulted the fence, to dash away on the other side with +a speed that quickly carried him out of sight. + +Pursuing her way alone, Dorothy soon reached the Salem road, which she +crossed, climbing the stone walls on either side, and was again in a +narrow strip of pasture land ending in a wood, where the stillness was +broken only by the squirrels chattering overhead as though in fear of +the intruder. + +The sun sent its rays here and there across the paths that led in +different directions, all of them carpeted with needles from the tall +pine-trees standing amid the oaks and chestnuts; and the one Dorothy +pursued brought her soon to the summit of a small hill, where it took a +sharp turn, and then ran directly to a small, hut-like dwelling, about +the door of which grew a honeysuckle vine. + +In front of the house was what in the summer had been a flower-garden; +everything about it was neat, and the tiny panes of glass in the +unshuttered windows were spotlessly bright. + +Dorothy did not wait to knock, but opened the door, and was within the +living-room of the house, there being no hall. It was wide, and +low-ceilinged, with clumsy beams set upright against the walls, +bedimmed with age and smoke. Directly opposite the entrance was the +open hearth, back of which a sluggish fire was burning; and kneeling in +front of the logs was a girl of fourteen, working with a clumsy pair of +bellows to blow it into a brisker flame. + +She was so engrossed in her task as not to hear the door open, but +started quickly as Dorothy said, "Good-day, Abbie; how is your granny +this morning?" + +"Oh, Mistress Dorothy, how you scared me!" the girl cried, springing to +her feet, and showing, as she turned her head, a preternaturally old +and worried face. + +"Where is Ruth?" inquired the smiling intruder, who now put down the +heavy basket, and began to remove her cloak, whose hood had somewhat +disarranged the curls over which it was drawn. + +"Granny be in bed yet, for her rheumatiz be in her legs to-day, she +says. An' she was worritin' over ye, for fear ye might be ill. She +was sayin' last evenin' that I was to go over and inquire." + +Perfectly at home in the little house, Dorothy went straight to her old +nurse's bedroom, to find her propped up in bed, knitting, and with an +open Bible lying beside her on the snow-white counterpane. + +"Oh, my lamb!" she exclaimed joyfully, catching sight of the sunny +face, that was soon bending over her, while the dim old eyes devoured +its every feature. "But I am glad to see ye, for I feared ye were ill, +for sure. An' what a lot o' sweet fresh ye bring about! It must be a +fine day outside. Ah," with a deep sigh, "if I could only get about as +I used to, my lamb!" The old woman's voice faltered, and the moisture +was showing in her eyes. + +"You will be well again, Ruth, when the winter gets fairly set," +Dorothy said cheerfully. "'T is the seasons changing that always make +you feel poorly." + +"Mayhap, mayhap," sighed the old woman. "But it seems only yesterday I +was runnin' about, a girl like ye, with no thought of ache or pain; an' +but another yesterday when I had ye, a little babe, in my arms. An' +here I be now, a crippled, useless old body, with only a poor +granddaughter, who has to do for me what I ought to be doin' for her. +An' here ye be, a fine grown young woman, ready to be married." + +Dorothy's laugh rang through the small room. "Not I, Ruth. I shall +always live with my father. And I am sure Abbie is glad to do all she +can for you." This last was with a kindly glance at the girl, who had +that moment slipped into the room to see if she might be wanted for +anything. + +She turned to Dorothy with a gratified look on her wan face, and said +with an attempt at heartiness: "Yes, Mistress Dorothy, that I am. Only +she be forever frettin', like I was the worst o' granddaughters to her." + +The old woman smiled at this, as she permitted the girl to raise her +shoulders a little, and shake up the pillows before leaving the room. + +As soon as she was gone, Dorothy said, "I brought you a basket of +things I hoped you wanted; and I'll not stop so long away from you +another time." + +"Aye, my lamb, but ye have stayed away a sore long time. But now that +ye're a young lady, ye've pleasanter folk to talk to than your old +nurse." + +"Now, Ruth," Dorothy threatened playfully, "if you talk to me in that +fashion, I'll go straight home again." + +The old eyes were turned upon her wistfully, while the knotted fingers +nervously handled the knitting-needles. Then Ruth said, "Moll Pitcher +was here yesterday to see me." + +"Was she? What did she say?" asked Dorothy, all in the same breath; +for she took the keenest interest in Moll and her talk. + +"I made her talk to me o' ye, my lamb. An' I was sorry for it +afterwards; for what she said kept me wakeful most o' the night. She +did not want to tell me, either; but I made her." + +"But what did she say?" Dorothy repeated eagerly. "Tell me just what +she said, Ruth." + +The old woman hesitated, as though unwilling to reply. Then her +restless fingers became quiet, and she said slowly and earnestly: "She +told me that your fate was about ye now, fast an' firm, an' that no one +could change it. An' she said your future days were tied about with a +scarlet color." + +"Oh, Ruth," Dorothy said at once, "she must mean that war is coming to +us." She was entirely free from any self-consciousness, and her eyes +looked with earnest surprise into the solemn old face lying back upon +the pillows. But her color deepened as Ruth added still more +impressively: "Nay, my lamb, she told me o' war times to come, beside. +But she meant that a redcoat would steal your heart away; an' she said +that naught could change it,--that his heart was set to ye as the +flowers to the sunshine,--that ye held him to wind about your little +finger, as I wind my wool. An' she said that sorrow, deep sorrow, +would come to ye with it." + +Tears were now dropping down the withered cheeks, and Dorothy thought +her own were coming from sympathy with the grief of her old nurse. For +a moment--only a moment--she felt frightened and almost helpless, even +turning to glance quickly over her shoulder at the door of the outer +room, as if to see if the redcoat were already in pursuit of her. + +Then her own dauntless spirit asserted itself once more, and she +laughed with joyous disbelief. + +"Nonsense, Ruth,--nothing but nonsense! And don't you be fretting, and +making yourself unhappy over something that can never happen." + +"Moll always speaks truth, they say," the old woman insisted, wiping +her wet cheeks with the half-knit stocking. "But we'll see what time +will bring to ye, my lamb. Moll is a good woman. She gave me some +herbs for my ailment, an' was most kind to me. She stopped all night, +an' went on this morning, for her father be dead, an' she have gone to +Lynn to 'bide." + +"Well, I hope she'll stop there forever, before she comes to make you +fret again over such silly tales. You must use the herbs, Ruth, and +get well, so that you can dance at Jack's wedding. You know he and +Mary Broughton will be married near Christmas-tide." + +Ruth looked fondly at the girl. "I'd much sooner dance at your own, my +lamb, if ye married the right man." + +Dorothy laughed. "Can you tell me where to find him, Ruth,--did Moll +tell you where he was?" + +"Aye, that she did," was the quick reply. "An' she told me much I'd +best keep to myself. Only the part I told ye worrited me, an' so I had +to open my heart to ye. But I'll tell ye this,--keep all the redcoats +away from ye, my lamb; shun 'em as ye would snakes, an' trust only to +the true hearts nigh home. There be Master Hugh Knollys--he be most +fit for ye." + +Dorothy laughed again. "Hugh Knollys," she repeated. "Why, Ruth, he +is almost like my own brother. You must never speak of such a thing to +any one; for if it came to his ears I'd surely die of shame. I marry +Hugh Knollys! Why, Ruth, you must be crazy." + +"Ye might do far worse, my lamb." The old woman did not smile, and her +lips narrowed primly, as though she did not relish having the girl make +a jest of the matter lying so close to her own heart. + +"Well, worse or better, I am in no hurry to be married off, Ruth; and +so don't you have any such thought of me." And Dorothy shook her curly +head threateningly. + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +Pashar had not yet appeared, but Dorothy set forth upon her return with +no thought of danger or delay. + +It was now high noon, and the sun making itself felt disagreeably, she +pushed back the hood of her red cloak as she entered the wood, the cool +wind coming refreshingly about her bared head while she walked slowly +along with downcast eyes, musing over this last prophecy of Moll +Pitcher. + +"Aha, Little Red Ridinghood, have you been, or are you going, to see +your grandmother?" + +Dorothy's heart throbbed tumultuously for an instant. Then she felt +cold and half sick, as she looked up and saw coming from under the +trees the gleam of a scarlet coat, topped by a shapely head and olive +face, whose dark-blue eyes were bent laughingly upon her. + +She stopped, startled and hesitating, not knowing what to do, while +Cornet Southorn came toward her along the path, his hat swinging from +one hand, the other holding a spray of purple asters. + +This he now raised to his forehead, saluting her in military fashion, +as he said with a touch of good-humored mockery, "Your servant, fair +mistress,--and will you accept my poor escort, to guard you from the +wolf who is waiting to eat Little Red Ridinghood?" + +A smile now began to dawn about the corners of the girl's mouth; but +she made an effort to keep it back, while she replied with an attempt +at severity, "There are no wolves about here, sir, to guard against, +save only such as wear coats of the color you have on." + +"If my coat makes me anything so fearsome in your eyes, I will discard +it forever." He had dropped his tone of playfulness, and now came a +step closer, looking down into her face in a way to make her feel +uneasy, and yet not entirely displeased. + +"I have no liking," she said, in the same bantering manner he had +assumed at first, "for those who so readily change the color of the +coat they are in honor bound to wear." + +"It was not an easy thing to contemplate until I met you," he replied +bluntly, and looking at her as if hoping for some approval of his +confession. + +This he failed to obtain, for Dorothy only smiled incredulously as she +asked, "Is it kind, think you, to credit me with so pernicious an +influence over His Majesty's officers?" + +"I credit you only with all that is sweetest and best in a woman," he +said with quick impulsiveness. And coming still nearer to her, he +dropped the flowers and seized one of her hands, while the basket fell +to the ground between them. + +"'T is small matter what you may or may not credit me with," she +answered, with a petulant toss of her head. "Leave go my hand this +minute, sir! See, you have made me drop my basket; let me pick it up, +and go my way." + +A sudden, curious glance now flashed from his eyes, and looking sharply +into her face, he said, "I thought that perhaps you would like me to go +with you, so that you might shut me up again in your father's +sheep-house." + +Dorothy ceased her efforts to withdraw her hands--for he now held both +of them--from his clasp, and stared up at him in affright. + +"Who told you I did?" she gasped. "Who said so?" + +The young man threw back his head and laughed exultingly. + +"Aha,--and so it was really you, you sweet little rebel! I was almost +certain of it, the morning I spoke to your father of the matter, and +saw the look that came into your eyes." + +"You are hateful!" she cried, her fear now giving place to anger. "Let +me go, I say,--let go my hands at once!" Her eyes were filled with hot +tears, and her cheeks were burning. + +"Never, while you ask me in such fashion." And he tightened his clasp +still more. "Listen to me!" he exclaimed passionately. "I have been +eating my heart out for dreary weeks because I could see no chance to +have speech with you. I felt that I could kill the men I've seen +riding with you about the country. And now that I have this +opportunity, I mean to make the most of it, for who can say when +another will come to me?" + +His words were drying her tears, as might a scorching wind; and she +stood mute, with drooping head. + +"Don't be angry with me for what I have said," he entreated, "nor +because I found it was you who played that trick upon me. That prank +of yours is the happiest thing I have to remember. You might lock me +up there every day, and I would only bless you for being close enough +to me to do it." + +He stopped and looked at her beseechingly. But she would not raise her +eyes, and stood pushing at the spray of asters with the tip of her +little buckled shoe, while she asked, "Think you I only find pleasure +in going about the country to lock folk up?" + +She spoke with perfect seriousness; and yet there was that in her look +and manner to make his heart give a great bound. + +"I think of nothing, care for nothing," he replied, almost impatiently, +"save that you are the sweetest little girl I ever met." + +Something in his voice made Dorothy glance up at his face, and she saw +his eyes bent upon her lips with a look that startled her into a fear +of what he might have in his mind to do. So, drawing herself up, she +said with all the dignity she could muster, "Such speech may perchance +be an English custom, sir; but 't is not such as gentlemen in our +country think proper to address to a girl they may chance upon, as you +have me." + +"Sweet Mistress Dorothy," and he seemed to dwell lovingly upon her +name, "I crave your pardon. I meant no lightness nor disrespect. And +if I have lost my head, and with it my manners, you have but to look +into your mirror, and you'll surely see why." + +Dorothy knew not how to reply to this bold speech, and the look that +came with it. They made her angry, and yet she knew that the flush +upon her cheeks did not come from anger alone, but that a certain +undefinable pleasure had much to do with it. Then came the +consciousness that she had no right to be where she was, and the fear +of danger coming from it. And this was sufficient to make her say with +some impatience: "'T is idle to stand here prating in such fashion. +Please release my hands, and let me go. I should be well on my way +home by now." + +He bent his head suddenly, and without a word kissed her hands. And +the burning touch of his lips made her pulses thrill and her heart beat +with what she knew to be delight,--exultation. + +Then, like a rushing flood, reason assailed her conscience, that she +should permit a hated redcoat--one whom she ought to detest--to kiss +her hands, and not feel enraged at his boldness. And so, filled with +indignation, she pulled one hand away, and raising it quickly, gave his +face a ringing slap. + +He started back and placed a hand to his cheek, now showing a more +flaming color than her own, and for a moment his eyes were alight with +an angry glitter. But he said nothing, and bowing low before her, +stood away from the path. + +Dorothy picked up her basket, and without glancing toward him passed +along on her way. But her eyes were brimming with tears, which were +soon trickling down her burning cheeks. + +What had she done, and what could she do, in this new, strange matter, +of which she might not speak to her father? How was she to act toward +him from whom she had never yet withheld her confidence? + +And still how could she speak to any one--even him--of what was giving +birth to thoughts and feelings such as she had never dreamed of before? + +With all this--and in spite of it--came the question as to what the +redcoat would think of her now,--a maiden who went about at night +masquerading in masculine garb, and who slapped His Majesty's officers +in the face? + +There came to her a woful sense of shame,--yes, of degradation, such as +her young life had never imagined could exist, and seeming to overwhelm +her with its possible results. + +She was startled by a sudden footfall close behind her, and without +looking back, she quickened her pace into a run. But now a strong arm +was thrown about her waist, holding her fast; and she caught a fiery +gleam of the scarlet coat against which her head was pressed by the +hand that, although it trembled a little, prisoned her cheek with +gentle firmness. + +Then a mouth was bent close to her ear, so close that its quick breath +fanned the tiny curling locks about her temples, and a voice whispered: +"Sweetheart, forgive me--for God's love, forgive me! I cannot let you +go in this way; for see, you are weeping. Surely this pretence of +anger is unjust,--unjust to you and to me!" + +Before she could speak, the voice went on, "Little rebel, sweet little +rebel, will you not surrender to--a vanquished victor?" And with this, +a kiss was pressed upon her lips. + +At first Dorothy had been too startled to speak,--too frightened and +dumb from the tumult his caressing voice had aroused within her. But +the touch of his lips awakened her like a blow. + +"How dare you?" she cried, struggling from his arms. "Oh, how I wish I +had never seen you!" + +"You can scarce expect me to feel likewise," he said calmly, smiling +into her stormy little face, "for I--" + +"Never speak to me again!" she interrupted, still more hotly. And +then, as the tears of anger choked her voice, she turned from him and +fled away down the path. + +For a time she heard him in pursuit; and this made her run all the +swifter, until at last, reaching the Salem road, she glanced back as +she mounted the low stone wall, and saw that he had stopped where the +timber ended, and stood watching her. Then without turning to look +again, she went quickly across the sunlit meadow-land. + +Her breath came sobbingly; and mingled with her terror was a feeling +she could not define, but which told her that life would never be the +same for her again. She still felt the clasp of his arms about her, +the burning of his lips upon her hands,--their pressure upon her mouth. +His voice still came caressingly to her ears, and the wind seemed to be +his breath over her hair. + +It was not long before she saw Pashar coming to meet her; and drawing +the hood about her face, she bade him go for the basket she had left in +the wood. Then, without waiting for him to return with it, she +hastened directly to her father's house. + +She reached her own room without having encountered any of the +household, and throwing off her cloak went to the glass. There, +resting her elbows on the low, broad shelf, and dropping her soft round +chin into her small palms, she seemed to be studying what the mirror +showed to her,--studying it with as much interest as though she now saw +the reflection of her features for the first time. + +"You are a wicked, treacherous girl," she said aloud, addressing the +charming face staring back at her with great solemn eyes, "a perfect +little traitor." Then--but now to herself--"Moll said his heart turned +toward me as the flowers to the sun. And if this be true, why is it +not also truth that sorrow is to come with it?" She shivered, and +pressed her hands over her eyes. + +"Cousin Dot!" called a small voice outside the locked door. + +"Yes, 'Bitha." Dorothy started guiltily, and made haste to dash some +water over her glowing face and tell-tale eyes. + +"Aunt Lettice says the meal is ready," came the announcement from +without; "and Hugh Knollys is below with Uncle Joseph." + +Dorothy felt thankful for this, as a guest at dinner would serve the +better to divert attention from herself; and making a hasty toilette, +she descended to the dining-room. + +She found them all at the table, with Hugh at her father's right hand, +and directly opposite her own place. The young man arose as she +entered the room, and responded with his usual heartiness to the +greeting she tendered him. But with it all he gave her so odd a look +as to make her wonder if he saw aught amiss in her appearance. + +The two men resumed their talk of public matters and the town's doings, +and were soon so absorbed that Dorothy was able to remain as silent as +she could have wished. + +It had been resolved not to import, either directly or indirectly, any +goods from Great Britain or Ireland after the first of the coming +December. And in case the tyrannical decrees of the mother country +should not be repealed by the 10th of the following September, it was +agreed that no commodities whatever should be exported to Great +Britain, Ireland, or the British West Indies. + +This would bring about an embarrassing state of affairs for both the +men who were now discussing the matter, as they, like many others in +the town, had derived a considerable income from such exporting. + +"But we'll stand shoulder to shoulder, Hugh," said Joseph Devereux, +firmly, "if so be we forfeit every penny, until the oppressors give us +fair dealings or we drive every redcoat from our soil. I will kill +every cow and sheep--aye, and every horse as well, and cut down every +stick o' timber on my land, for the keeping of us and our friends fed +and warmed, but that I will maintain the stand I've pledged myself to +keep." + +"Let us hope, sir, that the redcoats will not first seize your cattle," +said Hugh, his eyes fixed gravely upon the abstracted young face +opposite him. "I met Trent as I was riding along the pastures, and he +told me the sheep had escaped through a broken place in the fence of +the ten-acre lot, and he had a chase after them to Riverhead Beach. He +said he met a party of soldiers there, and they deliberately took one +of the sheep from under his very nose, and carried it off with them to +the Neck. And when he remonstrated with them, they only laughed at +him, and told him to send the bill to the King for the dinner they +would have." + +The old man's eyes flashed with anger as he listened to this. + +"It is an outrage!" he exclaimed when Hugh had finished,--"to steal +stock under our very eyes. I must see Trent about the matter, and the +cattle must be kept nigh the house." + +"Why not take them by boatloads over to the islands till the redcoats +be gone, as has been done before, for pasturage?" The suggestion came +from Aunt Lettice, and was made rather timidly. + +"You were never cut out for a farmer's wife, Lettice, my dear," her +brother-in-law replied, a good-humored smile now breaking over his +face, "else you'd remember there is no pasturage there at this time o' +year. And I doubt if they'd be so safe on the islands as here, for +Trent and the men would have to go each day with fodder for them, and +the soldiers' spying eyes would be sure to note the coming and going o' +the boats. No," he added with decision, "I shall have the flocks kept +penned, nigh the house; and I shall make complaint o' this matter to +the Governor. As for the rest," and he smiled grimly, "I take it our +guns can protect ourselves and our property." + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +Hugh Knollys was so much a member of the household that Aunt Lettice +thought nothing of going her own way when dinner was over and leaving +him in the living-room with Dorothy; and the two now sat on one of the +low, broad window-seats, watching Joseph Devereux as he went out of +doors in search of Trent, with 'Bitha dancing along beside him. + +"How fast 'Bitha is growing!" Hugh remarked. "She will soon be taller +than you, Dot. Although, to be sure," he added with a laugh, "that is +not saying very much." + +Dorothy did not reply. Indeed it would seem that she had not heard +him; and now he laid his hand softly upon one of her own to arouse her +attention as he called her by name. + +At this she started, and turned her face to him. + +"What, Hugh--what is it?" she asked confusedly. + +His smiling face became sober at once, and a curious intentness crept +into his blue eyes while he and Dorothy looked at each other without +speaking. Then he asked deliberately, "Of what were you dreaming just +now, Dot?" + +A burning blush deepened the color in her cheeks, and her eyes fell +before those that seemed to be searching her very thoughts. + +"Shall I make a guess?" he said, a strange thrill now creeping into his +voice and causing her to lift her eyes again. "Were you dreaming of +that young redcoat you were walking with this morning?" + +She sprang to her feet and faced him, her eyes blazing, and her slight +form trembling with anger. + +"I was not walking with any such," she replied hotly. "How dare you +say so?" + +"Because it so appeared as I came along the Salem road," was his calm +answer. "I saw him on one side of the road leaning against the stone +wall, and watching you, as you went from the wall on the opposite side, +and across your father's lot. His eyes were fixed upon you as though +he were never going to look away; indeed he never saw nor heard me +until my horse was directly in front of him." + +Dorothy was now looking down at the floor, and made no reply. + +After waiting a moment for her to speak, Hugh took both her hands and +held them close, while he said with an earnestness that seemed almost +solemn in its intensity: "Don't deceive me, Dot. Don't tell me aught +that is not true, when you can trust me to defend you and your +happiness with my life, if needs be." + +His words comforted her in a way she could not explain. And yet they +startled her; for she was still too much of a child, and Hugh Knollys +had been too long a part of her every-day life, for her to suspect how +it really was with him. + +"I was not intending to tell you any untruth, Hugh. But--I was not +walking with him." + +The anger had now gone from her eyes, and she left her hands to lie +quietly in his clasp. But she had not forgotten the warm pressure of +those other hands in whose keeping they had been that same morning. + +"Had you not seen him, Dot?" Hugh asked, looking keenly into her face. + +At this her whole nature was up in rebellion, for she could not brook +his pursuing the matter farther, after what she had already told him. + +"Let go my hands!" she exclaimed angrily. "Let me go! You have no +right to question me as to my doings." + +He dropped her hands at once, and rising to his feet, turned his back +to her, and looked out of the window. A mighty flood of jealousy was +surging through his brain; and that which he had so long repressed was +struggling hard to uproot itself from the secret depths,--where he was +striving to hide it from her knowledge--and burst forth in fierce words +from his lips. + +Had this hated Britisher dared to steal into the sacred place of the +child's heart, which he himself, from a sense of honor, was bound to +make no effort to penetrate? The mere suspicion of such a thing was +maddening. + +Dorothy glanced at him. How big and angry he looked, standing there +with tightly folded arms, his lips compressed, and his brows contracted +into a deep scowl! How unlike he was to the sunny-faced Hugh Knollys +who had been her companion since childhood! + +"Don't be angry with me, Hugh," she pleaded softly, venturing timidly +to touch his shoulder. + +He whirled about so suddenly as to startle her, and she fell back a +pace, her wondering eyes staring at the set white face before her. + +"I am not angry, Dot," he said, letting his arms drop from their +clasping; "I am only--hurt." And he slowly resumed his place upon the +window-seat. + +"I don't wish to hurt you, Hugh," Dorothy declared, as she sat down by +him again. + +He seemed to make an effort to smile, as he asked, "Don't you?" + +"No, I do not." And now her voice began to gather a little asperity. +"But you do not seem to consider that you said aught to hurt me, as +well." + +He took her hand and stroked it gently. + +"You know well, Dot," he said, "that I'd not hurt you by word or deed. +And it is only when I think you are doing what is like to hurt +yourself, that I make bold to speak as I did just now." + +Dorothy was silent, but her brain was busy. The thought had come to +her that she must bind him by some means,--make it certain that he +should not speak of this matter to her brother. And a wild +impulse--one she did not stop to question--urged her to see that the +young soldier was not brought to any accounting for whatever he had +done. + +She wondered how much Hugh might know, and how much was only +suspicion,--surmise. And with the intent to satisfy herself as to +this, she said, "Just because you saw a redcoat watching me, as you +thought, and at a distance, you forthwith accuse me of walking with +him." + +She spoke with a fine show of impatience and reproof, but still +permitting him to hold and caress her hand. + +"Aye, Dot, but there be redcoats and redcoats. And this one happened +to be that yellow-faced gallant we are forever meeting, the one you--" + +She interrupted him. "I know what you mean. But I tell you truly, +Hugh, I had not been walking with him, nor did I know he was by the +stone wall looking after me, as you say." + +"And you had not seen him?" Hugh asked, now beginning to appear more +like himself, and bending his smiling face down to look at her. + +But the smile vanished, as he met her faltering eyes. + +"Don't tell me, Dot, if you'd sooner not; only know that you can trust +me, if you will, and I'll never fail you,--never!" + +These words, and the way they were spoken, settled all her doubts, and +clasping her other hand over his, that still held her own, she burst +forth impetuously: "Oh, I will tell you, Hugh. Only you'll promise me +that you'll never tell of it, not even to Jack." + +The young man hesitated, but only for a second, as the sweet prospect +of a secret between them--one to be shared by no other, not even her +idolized brother--swept away all other thoughts. + +"I promise that I'll tell no one, Dot,--not even Jack." + +He spoke slowly and guardedly, the better to hide the mad beating of +his heart, and the effort he was making to restrain himself from taking +her in his arms and telling her what she was to him. + +Dorothy uttered a little sigh, as if greatly relieved. Then she said +with an air of perfect frankness: "Well, Hugh, I _did_ see him--up in +the wood, as I was coming from old Ruth's. He spoke to me, and I ran +away from him." + +"What did he say?" Hugh demanded quickly. + +"Oh, I cannot remember,--he startled me so. I was dreadfully +frightened, although I am sure he meant no harm." + +"No harm," Hugh repeated wrathfully. "It was sufficient harm for him +to dare speak to you at all." + +"No, but it was not," the girl declared emphatically. "He and I are +acquainted, you know--after a fashion. It was not the first time he +has spoken to me, nor I to him, for that matter." + +Hugh's blue eyes flashed with anger. + +"I have a great mind to make it the last!" he exclaimed with hot +indignation, and half starting from his seat. + +But Dorothy pushed him back. "Now mark this, Hugh Knollys," she said +warningly,--"if you say aught to him, and so make me the subject of +unseemly brawling, I'll never speak to you again,--no, not the longest +day we both live!" And she brought her small clenched fist down with +enforcing emphasis upon Hugh's broad palm. + +"What a little spitfire you are, Dot!" And he smiled at her once more. + +"Spitfire, is it? You seem to have a plentiful supply of compliments +for me this day." She spoke almost gayly, pleased as she was to have +diverted him so easily. + +He was now staring at her with a new expression in his eyes, and +appeared to be turning over some matter in his mind; and Dorothy +remained silent, wondering what it might be. + +"Dorothy," he said presently, and very gravely, "I wonder will you +promise me something?" + +"I must know first what it is." She was smiling, and yet wishing he +would not look at her in such a strange way; she had never known before +that his frank, good-natured face could wear so sober an aspect. + +"I wish you would promise me that you'll keep out of this fellow's +way,--that you'll never permit him to hold any converse with you, and, +above all, when no one else is by." + +"I'll promise no such thing," she answered promptly, and with a look of +defiance. + +"And why not?" he asked in the same grave way, and with no show of +being irritated by her quick refusal. Indeed he now spoke even more +gently than before. + +"Because," she replied, "it is a silly thing to ask. He is a +gentleman; and I do not feel bound to fly from before him like a guilty +thing, or as though I were not able to take care of myself. Besides, +we are not like to meet again--he and I." + +Her voice sank at the last words, as though she were speaking them to +herself--and it had a touch of wistfulness or of regret. + +This set Hugh to scowling once more. But he said nothing, and sat +toying in an abstracted fashion with her small, soft fingers. + +The desire to plead his own cause was again strong upon him, and he was +wondering if he might not in some way sound the depths of her feeling +toward him, without violating the pledge which, although unspoken by +his lips, he knew her brother--his own dearest friend--assumed to have +been given. + +He was aroused from these speculations by a question from Dorothy. + +"You will never speak to him of me in any manner, will you, Hugh?" she +asked coaxingly. + +"Speak to whom?" he inquired in turn. Then, noting the embarrassment +in her eyes, he muttered something--and not altogether a blessing--upon +Cornet Southorn. + +"But you 'll--promise me you 'll," she insisted. + +"And if I promise?" he asked slowly. He was looking into her face, +thinking how sweet her lips were, and wishing he could throw honor to +the winds and kiss them--just once, while they were so close to his own. + +"There is nothing," she declared with a sudden impulse, "that I will +not do for you in return!" + +"Nothing!" A reckless light was now growing in his eyes. "Are you +sure, Dot, there is nothing?" + +"No, nothing I can do," she affirmed. But she could not help remarking +his eagerness and illy repressed excitement, and felt that she must +keep herself on guard against a possible demonstration,--something +whose nature she could not foresee. + +The young man was still looking fixedly at her. But now he let go her +hands and sprang to his feet. + +"I'll make no bargain with you, Dot," he said excitedly. "I hate this +man, and have from the very first, and I hope I'll have the good +fortune before many days to meet him face to face, in fair fight. But +I promise, as you ask it, that I'll seek no quarrel with him. And even +had you not asked, I'd surely never have mentioned your name to him." + +"Thank you." Dorothy spoke very quietly; and before he could know of +her intention she snatched his hand and kissed it. + +She did it so suddenly and quickly that he knew not what to say or do. +He felt the hot blood rush to his face, and found himself trembling +from the storm aroused within him by her caress. + +Before he could speak, she was on her feet alongside him, smiling up +into his burning face, and saying, "You are a good friend to me, Hugh, +and I'll not forget it." Then, as she laid her hand on his arm, "Come, +I will play something for you; I feel just in the humor for it." + +He followed her into the drawing-room, where a huge wood-fire leaped +and crackled on the hearth. She bade him be seated in a big chair in +front of the dancing flames, and then went over and perched herself +upon the bench--roomy enough to hold three Dorothys--before the spinet. + +A moment later and there stole from beneath the skilful touch of her +fingers one of those quaint melodies of which we in this generation +know nothing, save as they have come down to us through the ear alone, +never having been put upon paper. + +Hugh Knollys sat and watched her, noting the pretty curves of her +cheeks and throat,--the firm white neck, so small and round, with the +wayward hair breaking into rebellious little curls at the nape,--the +slender wrists, and small, snowy hands. + +None of these escaped him, as he sat a little back of her, his hungry +eyes absorbing each charming detail. He thought what a blessed thing +it would be, could she and he always be together, and alone, like this, +with peace smiling once more over the land, and they happy in the +society of each other. + +The music seemed to fit exactly into his present mood, and he sat +motionless for a time, listening to it. Then, scarcely conscious of +what he was doing, he arose to his feet; and as the final cadence died +softly away, he was in a chair beside the bench, with his arm clasping +Dorothy's waist. + +She turned a startled face, to find his own bending close to her, and +with a look in it such as she had never before known it to hold. + +"Dorothy," and his voice was almost a whisper, "you care more for me +than for the Britisher?" + +An alarmed suspicion of the truth came to her. She saw a new meaning +in all he had said, in what she had beheld in his face and manner; and +realizing this, she sat white and motionless, her fingers still resting +upon the keys. + +He now bent his head, and she was frightened to feel tears dropping on +her wrist. + +She was possessed by a wild desire to fly,--to get away from him. But +she found herself unable to stir, and sat rigid, feeling as if turned +to marble, while his arm was still lying loosely about her waist. + +Then his hand stole up, and his fingers clasped her hand. + +"Oh, my God,"--his voice was hoarse and choked--"I cannot endure it!" + +At this, there came to the girl a flash of remembrance from that same +morning. She seemed to feel the arm of the young soldier around her, +and to see the scarlet-clad breast against which her head was pressed +so tenderly. A feeling as of treacherous dealing with his faith and +with her own rushed upon her, and she struggled to get away. + +"Are you gone daft, Hugh Knollys," she cried angrily, "or whatever ails +you?" + +He arose shamefacedly, and stood mute. But as she moved off, he +stretched out a hand to detain her. + +"Wait,--wait but a moment, Dot," he begged. "Don't leave me in such +fashion. Don't be angry with me." + +"Are you mad?" she demanded again, and with no less impatience, +although pausing beside him. + +"Aye, I think I must be," he admitted, now speaking more naturally, and +trying to smile down into the small face, still glowing with +indignation, so far beneath his own. + +"So it would seem," she said coldly, and in no wise softened. "I ne'er +expected such a thing from you." + +"Never mind, Dot,--forget it," he pleaded, now full of penitence. +"I've a great trouble on my mind just now, and your music seemed to +bring it all to me with a new rushing." + +Dorothy's face changed in a second, and became filled with sympathy. + +"Oh, Hugh, I am so sorry," she said with quick solicitude, taking him +by the hand. "Don't you want to tell me about it? Mayhap I can help +you." Her anxiety about this unknown trouble had lulled to sleeping +her suspicions as to the reason for his outbreak. + +He smiled,--but sadly, grimly. "I'll tell you some day," he said, "and +we will see if you can help me. But we'll be better friends than ever +after this, won't we, Dot?" His eyes had been searching her face in +nervous wonder, as if to assure himself that he had not told her aught +of his secret,--the secret his honor forbade him to reveal. + +"Yes, Hugh, I am sure we shall be." Dorothy said it with a warmth that +set his mind at rest. + +"And you'll let no redcoats, nor any coats--whate'er be their +color--come betwixt us?" he added, with a touch of his old playfulness. + +"No, never!" And there was a sincerity and firmness in her answer that +warmed his very heart. + +"Thank you, Dot," he said, lifting her fingers to his lips. "And thank +God!" he muttered as he released her hand, saying it in a way to make +Dorothy feel uncomfortable in the thought that perhaps she had pledged +herself to something more than she had intended. + +Just here Aunt Lettice came into the room. "Leet has returned from the +town," she announced, full of excitement, "and says that Mugford's wife +has at last prevailed upon the English officers to release him." + +"Can this be true?" inquired the young man, instantly alert, and quite +his natural self again. + +"So Leet says; and that Mugford is now in the town, with every one +rejoicing over him." And she poked the fire with great energy, sending +a thousand sparkles of flame dancing up the wide chimney. + +"How happy his poor wife must be!" was Dorothy's comment, as she +stooped to pick up 'Bitha's kitten, which had followed Aunt Lettice, +and was now darting at the steel buckles on the girl's shoes, where the +bright fire was reflected in flickerings most inviting to kittenish +eyes and gambols. + +"I think I'll ride over to town and see Mugford," said Hugh. "I want +to congratulate him upon his escape." + +He glanced at Dorothy, as if half expecting her to speak, as he had +just declined Aunt Lettice's urgent invitation that he return for +supper, saying that his mother was looking for him before evening. + +But all Dorothy said was, "Here come father and 'Bitha." And she +walked over toward the window. + +Hugh followed her, and said in a low voice, not meant for Aunt +Lettice's ears, "You'll not forget our compact, Dot, and your promise?" + +"No," she answered, smiling at him; "nor will you yours?" + +"Never!" He pressed the hand she extended to him, and then hurried +away. + +Joseph Devereux met him on the porch, and they stood talking for a few +minutes, while 'Bitha came within, her cheeks ruddy from the nipping +air. + +"Leet is back," she said, as she entered the drawing-room; "but Uncle +Joseph says it is too cold for us to take so late a ride over to see +Mistress Knollys." + +"So it is, 'Bitha," Dorothy assented. "But we'll go to the kitchen, +and ask Tyntie to let us make some molasses pull." + +She was, for the moment, a child again, with all perplexing thoughts of +redcoats and Hugh Knollys banished from her mind. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +All the outdoor world seemed encased in burnished silver, as the new +moon of early December came up from the black bed of the ocean's +far-out rim, and mounting high and higher in the pale flush yet +lingering from the gorgeous sunset, brought out sparklings from the +snow drifted over the fields and fences of the old town. + +The roads were transformed into pavements of glittering mosaics and +pellucid crystals; and all about the Devereux house the meadow lands +stretched away like a shining sea whose waves had suddenly congealed, +catching and holding jewels in their white depths. + +Dorothy was looking out at the beauty of it all, her face close to the +pane her warm breath dimmed now and then, compelling her to raise a +small hand to make it clear again for her vision. + +It was her brother's wedding night. And the girl was very fair and +sweet to look upon, in her soft pink gown, with its dainty laces and +ribbons, as she stood there awaiting the others; for they were all to +drive into town, to the house of Mistress Horton, where the marriage +was to be celebrated. + +Nicholson Broughton was away from his home, enforced to tarry near +Cambridge, where several of his townsmen were holding weighty conclaves +which it was important for him to attend. But he had urged John +Devereux to make no delay in the ceremony, feeling that his daughter, +once wedded, and an established member of the family at the Devereux +farm, would be happier, as well as safer, now that riots in the town +were becoming more frequent and fierce. + +Hugh Knollys also was absent, having undertaken an important mission in +the neighborhood of Boston. + +Only the young man himself knew how eagerly he had desired to be given +this responsibility, as a reason for being away. For as the time drew +near for his friend's wedding, he feared to trust his self-control +should he find himself again in Dorothy's presence. + +And then, besides, the hated redcoats were still on the Neck, and +several of the officers, among them Cornet Southorn, having accepted +more comfortable quarters at Jameson's house, Hugh thought it the wiser +course to remove himself from the vicinity for a time. + +It seemed as though these two young men were continually meeting one +another on the roads and byways of the town and its neighborhood. And +the sight of the stalwart form dashing along upon a spirited horse,--of +the handsome face and reckless eyes, raised in Hugh a fierce desire to +lay them in the dust through the medium of an enforced quarrel. + +Dorothy had been by Hugh's side at several of these encounters; and it +had made him heartsick to see the fluttered way in which her eyes would +turn from the young Britisher after meeting his ardent gaze, and how +for a time she would be uneasy and abstracted, resisting all attempts +to gain her attention. + +But he bravely held his own counsel, and since that memorable day in +October had never mentioned the Englishman's name, nor made any +allusion to him or his doings. + +As for Dorothy, she had gone about all these days with a face grave +almost to sadness; and it was well for her own peace that the others of +the family ascribed her altered mien to jealousy, thinking that her +exacting heart found it a hard matter to share her adored brother with +another whom he reckoned more precious than her own spoiled self. + +Her musings were now disturbed by Jack coming into the room. + +He looked the brave soldier in his new regimentals,--a round jacket and +breeches of blue cloth, with trimmings of leather buttons; and his dark +handsome face was aglow with happiness. + +His curling locks were gathered at the back of the neck, and tied with +a black watered-silk ribbon; and in his hand was a broad-brimmed hat, +caught up on one side, as was the fashion, and adorned with a cockade +of blue ribbons belonging to his sweetheart. + +"Ah, Dot, and so you are here! Leet is at the door, child, and Aunt +Lettice and 'Bitha are with father, in the drawing-room, all ready to +start. Come, get your cloak, and let us be off." + +He was close beside her as she turned from the window; and thinking he +saw the sparkle of tears in her eyes, he laid a detaining hand on her +arm. + +"You must be happy to-night, Dot," he said, "for my sake. I should +like all the world to be so, and you, my little sister, more than all +the rest." + +She let him kiss her on the cheek, but stood silent, with lowered eyes. + +"What is it, child,--don't you rejoice with me, when I am happier than +ever before in my life?" + +He gently took her chin in his hand and raised her downcast face. In +an instant her arms were clasped about his neck and her head buried +against his breast. + +Just then they heard Aunt Lettice, in the hall, calling as if she +supposed Dorothy to be above stairs. + +"Come, Dot," urged her brother,--"they are waiting for us, and we must +be off." And kissing her, he quietly unclasped her clinging arms. + +At this she drew herself away from him, and fixing her eyes searchingly +upon his face, said, "You are so happy, Jack, are n't you, because you +and Mary love each other?" + +"Why, surely," he replied, wondering at the words, and at her way of +speaking them. But he smiled as he looked into her troubled face. + +"Do you not think, Jack," she asked, still with that strange look in +her eyes, "that when love comes in, it changes all of one's world?" + +He now laughed outright. But she paid no attention to his gayety, +going on in a way to have troubled him had he been less selfishly happy +at the moment, "If you know this so well, Jack, you will never cease to +love me, if ever love comes to change my own world, the same as it has +yours? No matter what you may feel is wrong about it, you will not +blame me?" + +"Why, Dot, little girl, whatever are you dreaming about,--what should +make you talk in this way?" And he looked at her with real anxiety. + +But she only laughed, and passing her hand across her eyes, answered +nervously, "I don't know, Jack,--I was but thinking on future +possibilities." + +"Rather upon the most remote impossibilities," he said laughingly. +"But come, child, think no more of anything but this,--that 't is high +time for you to put on your cloak and come to see your brother take +unto himself a wife, who is to be your own dear sister." + +"I am glad it is Mary Broughton," Dorothy said quietly, as she took her +cloak from a chair. + +"So am I," he laughed, as he wrapped the warm garment about her, +shutting away all her pink sweetness with its heavy folds. Then, while +he helped her to draw the hood over her curly head, "What if it were +Polly Chine, now?" + +"Then," she answered with an odd smile, "you would have to fight Hugh +Knollys." + +They were passing through the door, and he said with a keen glance at +her, "I've good cause to know better than that, Dot." + +But she gave no heed to this, and they joined the others outside. + +The old family sleigh moved sedately along the hard, snow-packed road, +the moon making a shadowy, grotesque mass of it along the high drifts, +while Leet, enveloped in furs, sat soberly erect, full of the +importance now attaching to him. + +When they were well on their way, a body of mounted Britishers swept +by, evidently bound for the town; and Joseph Devereux remarked to his +son, as the two sat opposite one another, while Dorothy, riding +backwards with her brother, seemed lost in the contemplation of the +snowy fields they were passing, "I trust, Jack, those fellows will stir +up no trouble this night." + +"They are most likely to do so," was the low-spoken reply; "for you +know the mere sight of their red coats acts upon our men much as the +like color affects an angry bull." + +"I wish they might be ordered from the Neck," observed Aunt Lettice, +who sat alongside her brother-in-law, and had caught enough to guess at +the rest of the talk. + +"They must wish so themselves, by this time," Jack said with a laugh. +"It must now be rarely cold quarters for them over there." + +"Why did you not ask them to your wedding, Cousin Jack?" + +The question came from small 'Bitha, who was sitting between Dorothy +and her brother. "I wonder if the one Mary pushed over the rocks last +summer would not like to see her married?" + +"'Bitha!" Dorothy exclaimed sharply, seeming to awaken to what was +being said. "Why will you always put it so? Mary did not push him +over; he fell himself." + +"Aye,--but, Cousin Dot, he fell over while he was stepping back from +her," the child answered. "She looked so angry that I think he was +sorely frightened." + +Dorothy did not reply; but her brother said gayly, "Well, 'Bitha, I +hope Mary will never look at me in a way to frighten me so much as +that." + +"She never would," 'Bitha asserted with confidence, "for you are not a +Britisher." + +"What a stanch little rebel it is," Joseph Devereux said laughingly; +and Jack went on in a teasing way to 'Bitha, "I expect we shall all go +to see 'Bitha married to a redcoat as soon as she is big enough." + +"You will see no such thing, Cousin Jack," the child replied angrily. +"I'd run away, so that no one could ever find me, before I'd do such a +thing. Would not you, Cousin Dorothy?" + +Dorothy did not answer, and 'Bitha repeated the question. + +"Would I do what, 'Bitha?" Dorothy now asked, but indifferently, and as +though with the object of quieting the child. + +"Why, marry a redcoat?" + +"Nonsense, 'Bitha,--don't let Jack tease you." And Dorothy turned away +again to look off over the snow fields through which they were passing. +But she wondered if the others noticed how oddly her voice sounded, and +what a tremble there was in it. + +The Horton house loomed up full of importance from amid its darker +fellows, and warm lights twinkled out here and there where a parted +curtain let them through to shine forth like welcoming smiles into the +cold night. + +Within there was much bustle and good-natured badinage, as the +neighbors, bidden to the feast, assisted the people of the +house,--playing the part of entertainer or caterer, hairdresser or +maid, as the needs of the other guests demanded. + +It was a simple, homely wedding, as was the custom of the day; and the +festivities were enjoyed with all the more zest by reason of the relief +they offered from the anxiety felt by all, on account of the disturbed +condition of public affairs. + +There were games--such as "Twirl the Trencher" and "Hunt the +Slipper"--for those who liked them; and the elders endeavored to enter +at least into the spirit of all that was going on, and not dampen the +younger folks' pleasure by the exhibition of gloomy faces and +constrained actions. + +Later in the evening there was dancing. And it was a goodly sight to +look at the handsome groom and his lovely bride go through the stately +minuet, with his father and Aunt Lettice opposite them,--the slow, +dignified step making the feat a no-wise difficult one for the old +gentleman, who had in his day been accounted one of the most graceful +of dancers. + +Dorothy acted for a time as though she were made of quicksilver. She +was leader in all the games and frolics, and seemed the very +impersonation of happy, laughter-loving girlhood. Then, and without +any apparent reason, another and different mood took possession of her, +and she suddenly became very quiet, taking but little part in what was +going on. + +Her father's fond eyes were quick to notice this; but when he hastened +to draw her to one side and ask for the cause, she made light of his +anxiety, and gave him a smiling assurance of her perfect well-being. + +As a matter of fact, something had occurred to disturb the girl very +seriously. + +During one of the games she had been alone for a few minutes in a room +facing upon the side yard,--a small orchard; and chancing to glance +toward the window, she saw, as if pressed against the glass, the face +of Cornet Southorn. + +While she stood, silent and rigid, staring at it, the face disappeared; +and some of the other guests now entering the room, she slipped away to +recover her composure. + +What, she asked herself, did he seek, and why was he here? She +dismissed at once the thought of his meaning any harm, for surely he +would not bring about any disturbance upon this, her brother's wedding +night. And even should he seek to intrude himself upon them, there +could be no just cause to warrant such an act, for although the King +might expect to enforce the Acts of his Parliament, he had not as yet +sought to control the marrying or giving in marriage of his American +subjects. + +But even so, she was startled, almost alarmed; and the matter filled +her thoughts for the remainder of the evening. + +It had been arranged that Aunt Lettice and 'Bitha were to remain with +the Hortons for a time, while Joseph Devereux was to accept the +invitation of his friend, Colonel Lee, to pass a few days at the +latter's house, not far away. + +This would make the bride and groom the only ones who would return with +Leet to the farm, as Dorothy was going to the home of a girl friend, +feeling that it would be a relief to be among new faces and in a +strange house. + +"Dorothy, are you going to let me be a good sister to you,--one of the +sort you will come to with all your joys and troubles?" + +The two girls were standing close to each other in one of the upper +rooms, where Mary was donning a dark gray slip pelisse and hood, with +warm fur linings peeping about the edges, while Mistress Horton was +bustling about out of earshot, getting some last stray articles bundled +for their conveyance to the sleigh waiting below. + +The earnest blue eyes were bent searchingly upon Dorothy's face, as if +the speaker had more than a passing notion of the impulses stirring the +heart lying beneath the laces of the dainty pink gown. + +But Dorothy laughed, albeit a little constrainedly, and replied, "I +thought you knew all about that long ago, Mary." + +"Do you know, Dot,"--and Mary's white brows contracted into a puzzled +frown--"somehow you are changed. What is it, dear?" + +"Your imaginings, I should say," was the careless reply. "My hair is +not turning gray, is it?" And she touched her dark curls. + +"Well, never mind now," said Mary, diplomatically, and not caring to +press the matter, "but you will tell me when we are together again, +won't you, Dot?" + +Dorothy only smiled, and said nothing. + +Jack had spoken to Mary more than once of some change that had come +over his sister. But his words were not needed, as she herself, not +having seen much of the girl these last few months, would have observed +it had he not spoken. + +Dorothy was as impulsive and affectionate as of old, but to Mary's keen +eyes there now seemed a new-born womanliness about her. She was +sensible of the absence of that childish frankness and ingenuousness +which had been so much a part of the girl's nature. She was now more +like a woman, and one whose mind held a secret she herself tried to +evade, as well as have others blind to its existence. + +It was as if a new self had been born, dominating the old self, and +sending her thoughts far from where her body might be. + +"She must be in love with some one, and 't is sure to be Hugh Knollys," +said Mary to herself, with a glow of happiness, as the two went +downstairs, Mistress Horton and a servant following them, both laden +with packages to be stowed away in the Devereux equipage, whereon Leet +sat rigidly upright, the darkness hiding his black face and its unusual +grin. + +"Take good care of her, Strings," Joseph Devereux cautioned, as he took +his place within the vehicle, and pointing to the open doorway, where a +pink gown and dark curly head showed foremost amongst the guests +crowded there to see the bride and groom on their way. The pedler--an +humble onlooker at the wedding--had urged his protection for Dorothy's +safer piloting through the town to her friend's house; and this her +father and brother had been glad to accept. + +"That I will, sir,--never fear," was the hearty response; and as Jack +Devereux sprang into the sleigh, Leet turned the horses' heads to the +street and drove off, followed by a shower of old shoes and peals of +merry laughter from the doorway. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +The town was as silent as a city of the dead when the four started on +their way, Master Storms--a fussy, irritable old gentleman--in advance, +with his pretty daughter Patience hanging on his arm, and followed +closely by the small erect figure of Dorothy, wrapped in her dark +cloak; while Johnnie Strings, on guard against any unseen danger, +walked directly behind her. + +There were hurrying masses of cloud overhead that made gorges and +ravines, hemming in the glittering stars, now grown brighter since the +moon had set; and the sound of the sea came faintly hoarse, as the +little party bent their steps in its direction. For near it lay the +Storms domicile,--up near what was known as "Idler's Hill." + +Suddenly a wild uproar broke out upon the night, coming from ahead of +them; and Master Storms bringing his daughter to a halt, Dorothy and +the pedler came up with them. + +They all stood listening. There were the shouts and cries of a +not-to-be-mistaken street fight; and the turmoil was becoming more +distinct, as though the combatants were approaching. + +Patience urged her father to hurry on towards their house; but he +hesitated. + +"What think you is amiss, Johnnie Strings?" he inquired nervously, +fidgeting from one foot to the other, while his terrified daughter +tugged at his arm. + +"Usual trouble, I guess," drawled the pedler. "Redcoats paradin' the +streets, and gettin' sassy." Then turning to Dorothy, he said, "Had +n't ye best let me take ye back, Mistress Dorothy?" + +Before she could answer him a small body of soldiers issued from a side +street near by. A wavering, yelling crowd of angered men swept forward +to meet them; and the two girls and their escorts found themselves in +the midst of a struggling, shouting mass, with here and there a +horseman looming up, whose headgear, faintly outlined in the uncertain +light, proved him to be a British dragoon. + +Master Storms seized his daughter by the arm, and taking advantage of +an opening he saw in the crowd, darted through and sped with the girl +down a narrow alley. But the pedler, trying to follow with Dorothy, +was baffled by a number of the combatants closing in around them. + +He shouted lustily for them to make a passage for himself and his +charge; but although he was known to many of them, rage, and the lust +of battle, seemed to dull their ears to his voice. + +In the midst of it all he was felled to the ground; and with no thought +of tarrying to find out if he were hurt, Dorothy, seeing a small +opening in the mass of men, dashed through it, with the intention of +making her way back to the Hortons'. + +She had gone only a short distance when her path was barred by several +horsemen, who seemed to be the leaders of the troop. They had fought +their way to a clearer space, and were looking back as though for their +followers to join them. + +"Devils--fools," panted one. "They deserve to be wiped out." + +"Aye," said another. "If we might use our weapons as we liked, I, for +one, would take pleasure in having a hand at that game." + +Dorothy attempted to glide by them, hoping that the dark color of the +cloak she wore would save her from detection. But the voice of the +first speaker called out gayly, "Aha, who goes there? Stop, pretty +one, and give the countersign." + +"Or, if indeed you be a pretty one, we'll take a kiss instead, and call +it a fair deal," laughed another, as flippantly as if the night were +not being rent with the uproar of the fighting mob just behind them. + +Dorothy came to a standstill, and for the instant was uncertain which +way to turn. Then she resolved to pursue the road she had taken, and +said spiritedly, "Stand aside, and let me pass out of hearing of such +insults, or it may be the worse for you." + +She lifted her head as she spoke; and as the rays of a near-by lamp +fell upon her face, one of the riders spurred toward her. + +"Mistress Dorothy!" The voice made her heart leap; and then she felt +sick and faint. + +"Dear mistress,"--and now Cornet Southorn had dismounted close beside +her--"let me conduct you safely out of this place, where you surely +never should have come." + +The other horsemen had drawn to one side and away from them, and were +now silent. + +Scarcely conscious of what she was doing, Dorothy permitted him to lift +her to his saddle. He sprang up behind her, and holding her firmly +with one arm about her waist, spurred his horse away from the scene, +shouting to the others not to wait for him. + +The uproar soon died away behind them, but still they sped on in +silence. Then Dorothy heard the young man laugh, and in a way to +frighten her, and rally her dreaming senses to instant alertness. + +"So now, my sweet little rebel, you are my captive, instead of being my +jailer, as that night in the summer." And she felt his breath touch +her cheek. "You shall not speak to me in such fashion. And--oh, you +have passed the street leading to Mistress Morton's, which is where I +must go." + +Dorothy began with her usual imperiousness, but ended in affright as +she saw the street fade into the darkness behind them. + +"Is that where I stole like a thief to catch one glimpse of you, pretty +one?" he asked, paying no heed to her indignation. "And I felt like +committing murder, when I saw all the gallants who wanted your smiles +for themselves." + +"Take me back this minute!" she demanded angrily; but her heart was now +thrilling with something that was not altogether rage nor fright. + +"That will I not," he answered quickly, and with dogged firmness. + +"You are no gentleman," she cried, beginning at last to feel real +alarm, "if you do not take me to Mistress Morton's this minute." + +The young man leaned forward until his lips were close to the girl's +ear; and his deep voice, now trembling as with suppressed feeling, sent +each word to her with perfect distinctness. + +"I hope, sweet Mistress Dorothy, I am a gentleman," he said. "As such +I was born, and have been accounted. But"--and his voice sank to a +tremulous softness--"take you anywhere, I will not, until we have seen +good Master Weeks, for whose house we are now bound. And when we leave +it, it will be as man and wife." + +"You--dare not," she gasped. "You dare not do such a thing." + +He laughed softly. "Dare I not? Ah, but you mistake. I dare do +anything to win you for my own. I know your sweet rebel heart better +than you think, and I know that except it be done in some such manner, +you may never be mine." + +She tried to speak, but fright and dismay sealed her lips. Suddenly he +bent his face still closer and whispered: "Ah, little sweetheart, how I +long to kiss you! But my rose has its thorns; and I fear their +stinging my face, as they did that day in the wood, ages ago,--so long +it seems since I had the happy chance to hold speech with you." + +Still Dorothy could not utter a word, seeming to be in a dream, while +the powerful gray flew along the deserted streets that somehow looked +new and strange to her eyes. And now she felt the broad breast +pillowing her head, and she could feel distinctly the beating of his +heart, as if his pulse and her own were one and the same. + +And so they rode along in silence until they reached the house of +Master Weeks, where the young man pulled up his horse, and without +dismounting, pounded fiercely with his sword-hilt upon the door. + +An upper window was soon raised, and a man's querulous voice demanded +to know what was wanted. + +"Make haste, and come down to see," was the impatient answer. "It is +Cornet Southorn who wishes to speak with you." + +The window was closed hastily, and a light soon flickered in the lower +part of the house; and then came the noise of the door being unbarred. + +The young man sprang to the ground and held out his arms. + +"Come, sweetheart," he said, "let me lift you down, and I will fasten +the horse to a ring in the step here. He has been fastened there +before, but," with a soft laugh, "scarce for a like purpose." + +Dorothy clung to the pommel. "I'll not,--I'll not!" she declared. +"You shall not dare do so wicked a thing, and Master Weeks will never +dare listen to you." + +"We'll see to that," he laughed, and lifted her from the saddle. Then, +as she reached the ground, he kissed her, as he had that day in the +wood. + +"Be good to me, and true to yourself, my sweet little rebel," he +whispered, "and fight no longer with truth and your own heart. Own +that you love me, and know that I love you,--aye, better than my life." + +"I care naught for your love," cried Dorothy, struggling to free +herself from his arms. "And I tell you that I hate you!" + +"Aye," and he laughed again, "so your lips say. But I know what your +heart says, for your eyes told me that, long ago. And I shall listen +to your heart and eyes, and pay no heed to your sweet little rebellious +mouth." + +They were now standing on the upper step of the small porch, and in the +open doorway was the minister, Master Weeks, a candle in his hand, and +held above his head as he peered out into the darkness with wonder +filling his blinking eyes. + +"Good Master Weeks, here is a little wedding party. And despite the +unseemly hour, you must out with your book, and your clerk, as witness, +for binding the bargain past all breaking." + +With this, the young officer, carrying Dorothy in before him, entered +the house and closed the door, against which he placed his broad back, +his gleaming teeth and laughing eyes alight like a roguish boy's as he +smiled down upon the bewildered little divine. + +"You will do no such thing, Master Weeks," Dorothy protested, her eyes +flashing with anger. "I am here against my will, and forbid you to +listen to his madness." + +"Aye," the young man said, looking into her glowing face, "mad I am, +and with a disease that naught will cure but to know that you are my +wife." + +"Why, Cornet Southorn," exclaimed Master Weeks, "whatever can you be +thinking on? Surely this lady is Mistress Dorothy, the daughter of +Master Joseph Devereux." And he looked closely into her face. + +"Yes, so I am," she cried, moving nearer to him. "You know my father, +and you'll surely not hearken to this young Britisher?" + +"Aye, but he will, and that speedily," the young man asserted. The +smile was now gone from his face, and his hand stole toward his pistol. + +"Master Weeks," he said sternly, "it will go hard with you if within +ten minutes you do not make this lady my wife." And he looked at his +watch. + +The frightened little man said nothing more, but hurriedly summoned his +housekeeper and her son, who was also his clerk. A few minutes later, +and Dorothy, held so firmly--albeit gently--by Kyrle Southorn that she +could not move from his side, heard the words that made her his wife. + +When it was over, she was strangely silent, scarcely seeming to +comprehend what had taken place. + +The newly made husband put his name upon the register. Then, as he +drew Dorothy forward to take his place, he bent down until his face +came beneath her own, and gave her a curious, beseeching look,--one +that seemed to act upon her bewildered senses like a deadening drug. + +Yes, he was right. She loved him better than all else in the world. +Her mind had fought the truth these many months; but now her heart rose +up, a giant in strength and might, and she could never question it +again. + +For a moment her great dark eyes looked down into his pleading ones. +Then in a subdued, obedient way, entirely unlike the wilful Dorothy of +all her former life, she took the pen he proffered and wrote her name +underneath his bold signature. + +A deep sigh now burst from his lips,--one of happy relief; then, as if +utterly unmindful of the minister's presence, he pressed a kiss upon +the little hand that still held the pen. + +She submitted to this in silence, standing before him with downcast +face, and eyes that seemed fearing to meet his gaze, while he carefully +drew the cloak about her once more. + +"I trust, Mistress Dorothy, you will in no wise hold me accountable for +this young man's rashness, when the matter shall come to your father's +ears, but that you will kindly raise your voice in my behalf to testify +how that I was forced for my life's sake to agree." + +Master Weeks was already on the black list, owing to his well-known +sympathy for the King's cause, and for having remonstrated openly with +the patriots of his congregation. + +"You have but to keep a close mouth, Master Weeks," said Southorn, as +the little man lighted them into the hall; "and the closer, the safer +it will be for your own welfare, until such time as one of us shall +call upon you to speak." + +A few minutes later they were again speeding along, with everything +about them as silent as the stars now glittering in an unclouded sky. + +The touch of the keen air upon Dorothy's face seemed to arouse her; and +as her senses became awakened, she was filled with a wild yearning for +the safe shelter of her father's arms. + +What would that father say,--how was she ever to tell him of this +dreadful thing? + +And yet was it sure to be so dreadful to her? + +Yes, it must be. This man was the sworn enemy of her country, and of +the cause for which her brother and her friends were imperilling their +very lives. If she went with him--this Englishman who was now her +husband--it meant that her family would brand her as a traitor, and +that she would be an outcast from them. It might bring about the death +of her father, the light of whose eyes and life she knew herself to be. + +She seemed to see once more the beloved face, and hear his voice, +warning the pedler to take care of her. + +And poor Johnnie Strings--might he not at this moment be dead, stricken +down by the followers of this very man who was now holding her so close +to his breast, and murmuring fond words between the kisses he pressed +upon her lips. + +She was beset by a sudden loathing of him and of herself, and pushing +away his bended face, she tried to sit more erect. + +"Stop!" she cried fiercely. "Don't touch me. I did not mean to give +way so. I detest you!" + +"Ah, my little rebel,"--and he spoke in no pleased tone,--"have I to +fight the battle all over?" + +"You have taken an unfair, a dishonorable advantage of me," she said. +"I am not used to such manners as you have shown. But I tell you +this,--although you have forced me to become your wife, you cannot +force my love." + +"So it would seem," was his grim answer. + +"Where do you purpose taking me?" she demanded, all her wits now well +in hand. + +"That shall be just as you say, sweet mistress," he replied, so +good-naturedly as to surprise her. + +"Then take me at once to my father's house," she ordered, with her +natural imperiousness. + +"So be it," he said. "And that will be on my own way, as it leads to +Jameson's." + +They rode in silence along the snowy road, whose whiteness and the +stars made the only light, until they were within her father's grounds, +and partially up the driveway. + +Here she bade him let her down; and he dismounted silently and lifted +her from the horse, detaining her as she stood alongside him, as in her +heart she had hoped he would. And yet had he not done this, she would +have gone her way without a word. + +"Is there any doubt but that you will get within the house all safe?" +he asked anxiously. + +"None." She lifted her face, and he wished there were a better light +with which to see her. + +"And now," he said, "what is your will that I do?" + +Dorothy answered quickly and with angry decision. + +"Go away and leave me," she exclaimed, "and never speak to me again!" + +She could not see the look of pain come to his face. But he still +lingered beside her, and asked again, "And you are certain to get +within the house, and that you fear naught?" + +"I fear nothing!" she said impatiently. + +"Aye,--I should have cause to know better than ask such a question," he +declared, in a voice that sounded as if now he might be smiling. Then +he asked, "And you mean it,--that I leave you, and keep away?" + +"Yes, yes; let me go." And she sought to escape from his grasp. + +But he held her firmly, and still closer. + +"Do you realize, sweet mistress, that you are my wife,--my own little +wife?" + +She did not reply; and bending his head nearer, he exclaimed +passionately: "My own wife you are, and no man can change that,--never, +never! And now, having gained you, I am content to await your +pleasure. My lips shall be sealed until you choose to open them; and +until you send for me, sweet mistress of my heart, I shall not come +nigh you. Only, I pray you, in God's name, not to let the time be far +away." + +"Let me go," was all she could say, dismayed as she was by the weight +of sorrow that had come to her, and threatened those whom she loved. + +He released her without another word, and she fled swiftly to the house. + +Having awakened Tyntie by tossing some bits of ice against her window, +she soon gained entrance, and quieted the wonder of the faithful +servant by telling her that there had been a street fight, and a +gentleman had brought her home on his horse. + +Despite the terrible struggle going on in her childish heart, Dorothy +kept up bravely until alone in her own room, whose very familiarity +seemed almost a shock to her, for all that had been crowded into these +few hours made it as though weeks had passed since she arrayed herself +for her brother's wedding,--little dreaming that it was for her own as +well. + +And such a wedding! How was it that the young Britisher had dared to +do such a thing? How was it that she had come to sign the register so +meekly? How could she ever dare tell of it? And if she did so, might +not her revelation bring harm to him? + +Such were the questions that chased one another through her mind, only +to return again and again with renewed importunity. + +She had told him to go, and yet--she loved him truly. And could she be +loyal to her father's cause with such a love battling in her heart? + +With thoughts like these the few remaining hours of the night wore +away, bringing to her but snatches of fitful sleep. + +Johnnie Strings appeared at the Devereux farm early the following +morning. The red of his face was almost pale, and he was haggard and +wild-eyed, with one of his arms in a sling. + +He came to report to John Devereux the happenings of the night before, +and to consult with him as to the best way of imparting to his father +the news of Dorothy's disappearance. + +The newly wedded pair had already been told by Tyntie of the girl's +presence in the house; and Jack now hastened to assure the almost +distracted pedler of her safety, adding that they had thought it best +to leave her sleeping undisturbed until she should be ready to come +down and join them. + +When Johnnie Strings heard this, he collapsed into a chair. + +"Well, well!" he exclaimed, as soon as he could find his voice, "I +never was so dead beat out! My broken arm is pretty bad, to be sure, +but my feelin's was a danged sight worse when I come to my senses last +night. There they had me in fisher Doak's, an' naught could they tell +o' Mistress Dorothy, for none had seen her. I went down to Storms's at +daybreak, and then over to Horton's, an' she'd been seen at neither +place. Comin' by Master Lee's, I first thought to make inquiry there, +thinkin', ye know, she might o' flewed to her father. Then, thinks I, +'Hold on, Strings. If she did, then she's safe as safe; an' if she did +n't, why, ye may be the death o' the old gentleman.' + +"So thinkin', I rode back to Horton's ag'in an' begged 'em--an' +Mistress Lettice, who was about plum out o' her head with fright--to +keep quiet, an' not risk scarin' your father to death, while I rode out +here to see ye an' have a sort o' meetin' over it, to decide what's to +be done next an' best. So now, thank the Lord, I find the bird is safe +here in the nest where she b'longs, an' I'll hurry back an' tell +Mistress Lettice, as I promised to do." + +With this he pulled himself up from the chair and started for the door. +But the young man stopped him. + +"You had better stop here awhile, Strings," he said, "and have +something to eat and drink; I can send Leet in to see Aunt Lettice." +And Mary adding her persuasions, the worn-out pedler was induced to +accept the invitation. + +Tyntie soon had a tempting meal spread for him; and having been without +food since leaving the Horton house the night before, he was in a +condition to do it full justice. + +John Devereux sat by while the pedler ate, and drew from him the +details of the disturbance. + +It had been brought about by a party of the Britishers being requested +to depart from a tavern kept by one Garvin, where they were eating and +drinking until a late hour. A wrangle ensued, during which one of the +dragoons knocked Garvin down, and then the latter's son had retaliated +in kind. + +At this, some of the other guests--townsmen--had joined in, and a +regular fight began, spreading soon from the inn to the street, where, +aroused by the noise, others had taken part, although scarcely knowing +why, except for the reason that here were some of the hated enemy, and +they must be made to retreat. + +No one had been killed outright, although several were quite badly hurt. + +"The queerest part of it is, sir," said the pedler, having finished his +story, "that I've a firm belief 't was none other than David Prentiss +who broke my arm for me. Somethin' must o' turned him blind, I should +say, for him to see a red coat on _me_." + +"That is the trouble with these street fights, and especially at +night,--the men seem to lose all sense of sight and reason. Something +has got to be done to make the Governor remove the troops from the +Neck." While speaking, John Devereux rose from his chair, and paced up +and down the room in angry excitement. + +"Aye, very true, sir," Johnnie assented, as he drained the last drop of +spirits from his glass. "But however will such a thing be brought +about?" + +"I don't know," was the impatient reply. "But it must and shall be +brought about, if we have to rise up and drive them out by main force, +and at the risk of turning our very streets into a battle-ground. And +this is the only thing that has kept us from doing it long ago. But +their insulting tyranny only grows worse, and they seek deliberately to +stir up the people to rash actions; and these, when reported, serve but +to hurt the real cause of our revolting, when tidings of them comes to +the King's hearing." + +"Aye, no doubt," the pedler agreed, as he arose from the table. "Now, +if His Majesty could be got to sit down, comfort'ble, like another man +might, an' listen to all we could tell him, he might agree to let us +have what we want, an' what is only fair we should have, an' no +fightin' need be done o'er the matter. The trouble is in this +everlastin' lot o' lyin', gabblin' poll-parrots that he puts atwixt +himself an' us, to tell him what the people do an' don't say an' do. +An' to the poll-parrots he listens, and, listenin', b'lieves. So, for +one, I should say the quicker we fight it out--whether it be in our +streets or up to Boston--" + +Mary now came into the room looking very grave; and her husband, paying +no further attention to the pedler, asked anxiously, "What is amiss, +sweet wife?" + +She tried to speak quietly, but the tremor in her voice told of alarm. + +"Dorothy is awake," she said, "and I think you had best see her at +once. She seems ill." + +They left the room together and were soon standing at the girl's +bed,--one on either side, looking down at the restlessly moving head. + +The big eyes stared at Jack for an instant with evident recognition. +Then a vacant look came into them, and she laughed in a way to fill him +with apprehension. + +A moment more, and she began to mutter--something about Hugh Knollys +falling into the water, and how dark and cool it was, and that she +wanted to go into it, for she was hot,--so hot. + +"She is out of her head," Mary whispered; "and this is the way she went +on, to me, before I called you." + +Her husband looked again at the unquiet little figure, and reached down +to take the small hand wandering about the coverlid; but she snatched +it from his clasp. + +"Go away,--go far away!" she cried. "I told you to go, and I meant it. +Oh, yes,--I did mean it. I am only crying because I hate you,--never +think it is for anything else. I hate you because your coat is +red,--red, like the ruby ring you forced on my finger whether I would +or no. And even the ring did not want to stay, for it knew me better +than you did. It was so big that you had to hold it on; and now I've +put it away safe,--safe, where no one will ever see, ever know. But it +is red, and red means cruelty; and that is what this war is to be." + +The babbling died away in a moan; but before Jack or his wife could +speak, Dorothy began again, now in a stronger voice than before. + +"Moll said it must bring sorrow,--sorrow. And yet she said I wound him +like a silken thread around my finger. Ah, _that_ winds tight, +although the ring was loose. And the thread Moll spoke of means love, +but the ring means--But no, I must not tell, never, never, for it would +kill my father. Father, I want you,--where are you?" + +This came in a loud cry, and she sank back sobbing, on the +pillows,--for she had struggled partially to her elbow, where Jack held +her so that she could rise no farther. + +"Mary, what is to be done?" asked the young man helplessly, anxiety and +fear having for the moment deprived him of his usual promptness and +decision. + +"Don't you think we had best send for your father and Aunt Lettice?" +Mary said in her calm way, although the tears were running down her +cheeks. "And the doctor must be called at once." + +"Leet has already gone into the town to tell them that Dot is here. +But I will have Trent put the horses into the sleigh, and he and I will +hasten in at once and fetch them all back, and the doctor as well, +unless he can come out ahead of us. You will stop right here beside +her, won't you, sweetheart?" he added anxiously, as he turned to leave +the room. + +"Why, of course I will." And Mary looked at her husband a little +reproachfully. + +"And you do not mind being left alone?" he asked, looking back over his +shoulder, while his hand gripped the open door in a way that told of +the tension upon him. + +She shook her head, smiling at him through her tears. + +Jack had no sooner gone than the faithful Tyntie came to see if she +were needed. But Mary sent her away with the assurance that she +herself could do all that was to be done at present. + +The ravings of the sick girl troubled her; and she deemed it prudent +that no other ear should hear words she felt might have a hidden +meaning. + +Dorothy still rambled on about the ruby ring and scarlet coat. Once +the name of Master Weeks fell from her lips, coupled with wild +lamentations that she had ever signed the register, and so risked the +breaking of her father's heart. + +After a little time--Dorothy having become quiet--Mary stood looking +out of the window, her eyes resting on the glittering fields that +spread away to the gray line of the ocean, where the cold waves were +curling in with glassy backs, and foam-ridged edges as white as the +snow they seemed to seek upon the land. + +She had been watching the gulls circling about with shrill screams or +hanging poised over the water, when a low call caused her to start. + +She turned at once, to see Dorothy sitting up and looking intently at +her, while she seemed to fumble under the pillow for something. + +"What is it, dear?" Mary asked, hastening to the side of the bed. + +Dorothy drew from beneath the pillow a heavy ring of yellow gold, with +a great ruby imbedded in it, like a drop of glowing wine. + +"There it is," she whispered, putting the ring into Mary's hand. "It +is his ring,--only he gave it to me. Hide it,--hide it, Mary. Never +let any one see--any one know. I want to tell you all about it, but I +am so tired now, so tired, and--" The girl fell back with closed eyes, +and in a moment she appeared to be asleep. + +After standing a few minutes with her eyes fixed upon the unconscious +face, Mary opened her hand and looked at the ring. + +It was a man's ring, and one she recalled at once as having seen before. + +It had been upon the shapely brown hand lifted to remove the hat from a +young man's head, that summer day, at the Sachem's Cave. + +There came to her a sudden rush of misgiving, as she asked herself the +meaning of it all. What had this hated Britisher's ring to do with +Dorothy's illness and with her ravings? What was all this about Master +Weeks, and signing the register? + +She determined to tell her husband of what she had heard and seen, and +let his judgment decide what was to be done. + +And yet when he returned, and with him his father and Aunt Lettice and +'Bitha, all of them sad-faced and alarmed over Dorothy's sudden +sickness, something seemed to hold back the words Mary had intended to +speak. And so she said nothing to her husband, but hid the ring away, +resolved that for the present, at least, she would hold her own counsel. + +After all--so she tried to reason--it might be nothing more than that +the young Britisher had given Dorothy the ring. + +And yet that the girl should accept such a gift from him surprised and +grieved her, knowing as she did that had there been any lovemaking +between the two, it would surely bring greater trouble than she dared +now to consider. + +Mary was one who always shrank from doing aught to cause discord; and +so, albeit with a mind filled with anxiety, she decided to keep silence. + +Dorothy's ailment proved to be an attack of brain fever, and it was +many weeks before she recovered. And when she was pronounced well +again, she went about the old house, such a pale-faced, listless shadow +of her former self that her brother watched her with troubled eyes, +while her father was well-nigh beside himself with anxiety. + +But as often as they spoke to her of their misgivings she answered that +she was entirely well, and would soon be quite as before. + +She appeared to have forgotten about the ring, and Mary waited for her +to mention it, wondering after a time that she did not. + +At last, late in January, the hated soldiers were ordered away from the +Neck; and great was the rejoicing amongst the townspeople, whose open +demonstrations evinced their delight at being freed from the petty +tyranny of their unwelcome visitors. + +It was John Devereux who brought the news, as the other members of the +family sat late one afternoon about the big fireplace in the +drawing-room. + +Aunt Lettice and Mary were busy with some matter of sewing, and 'Bitha, +with an unusually grave face, was seated between them on a low stool. +A half-finished sampler was on her knee, and the firelight quivered +along the bright needle resting where she had left off when it became +too dark for her to work. + +Dorothy was at the spinet, drawing low music from the keys, and playing +as if her thoughts were far away. + +Her father had just come from out of doors, and now sat in his big +armchair, with his hands near the blaze, for the cold had increased +with the setting of the sun. + +It had gone down half an hour before, leaving a great crimson gash in +the western sky, above which ran a bank of smoky gray clouds, where the +evening star was beginning to blink. + +It had been a day of thawing. The sun had started the icy rime to +running from the trees and shrubs, and melted the snow upon the roofs, +while the white covering of the land was burned away here and there, +until it seemed to be out at knees and elbows, where showed the brown +and dirty green of the soil. + +But an intense cold had come with the darkness, turning the melted snow +to crystal, and hanging glittering pendants from everything. + +"I wish Cousin Dot was all well, the way she used to be," sighed small +'Bitha, sitting with her rosy face so rumpled by the pressure of the +little supporting palms as to remind one of the cherubs seen upon +ancient tombstones. + +She spoke in a voice too low for any one to hear save those nearest +her; and Mary gave a warning "Hush," as she glanced at the abstracted +face of her father-in-law, who was gazing intently at the flames +leaping from the logs. + +"She 'll not hear what I say," the child went on, now with a touch of +impatience. "She often does n't hear me when I speak to her. Many +times I ask her something over and over again, when she is looking +straight at me; and then she will act as if she'd been asleep, and ask +me what I've been saying." + +"Your cousin was very ill, you must remember, 'Bitha," her grandame +explained; "and it takes her a long time to recover, and be like +herself again." + +But the child shook her blonde head with an air of profound wisdom. + +"I think it is only that bad medicine of Dr. Paine's," she said. "When +I am ill, I shall ask Tyntie to fetch me a medicine man, such as the +Indians have. I should like to see him dance and beat his drum." + +"I should think we have had enough of the sound of beating drums, +'Bitha," replied Mary, speaking so sharply as to arouse her +father-in-law into looking toward her. + +Here John Devereux, just returned from the town, came in and announced +the withdrawal of the British soldiers from the town and Neck. + +"When will they go?" his wife asked eagerly. + +"A shipload of them has already sailed,--it left the harbor before +sunset; and some of the dragoons are about starting. It did my heart +good to see the red-backs taking the road to Salem. We are well quit +of them; and when they are gone we can easily manage all the ships they +send into the harbor to annoy us or spy upon us." + +He laughed with a mingling of indignation and contempt; but his manner +changed quickly as he glanced toward his sister. + +"Dot!" he cried, "what is it, child?" And he sprang to her. + +She had turned about when he came into the room, and was now lying back +against the spinet, her head on the music-rack,--lying there +speechless, motionless; for the girl--and for the first time in her +life--had fainted. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + +An hour later, when left in her own room with Mary, Dorothy poured out +her secret sorrow. + +The others had yielded to her urging and gone to the tea-table below, +albeit with scant appetites, and with minds much troubled over the +strange weakness that had come over Dot. But Mary remained; and so it +came about that the two were now alone, Dorothy lying upon a lounge, +and Mary beside her, clasping one of her hands. + +The room was filled with weird shadows from the wood fire, which made +the only light; for Jack, at his sister's request, had carried away the +candles. + +"Are you cold?" Mary asked, feeling Dorothy shiver. And she drew the +silken cover more closely about the girl's shoulders and neck. + +"No--no," was the quick reply. "It's not that I'm cold. I'm only so +miserable that I don't know what to do with myself. Oh, Mary--if only +I might die!" And she burst into passionate sobbing. + +Mary was greatly startled; but feeling that the time was now come to +unravel the secret she was certain had been the cause of Dorothy's +illness, she waited quietly until the first burst of grief had spent +itself, while she soothed and caressed her sister-in-law as though she +were a little girl. + +Presently the sobs became less fierce, then ceased altogether, ending +with a long, quivering sigh, as from a child worn out by the storm of +its own passion. + +Mary felt that now was the opportunity for which she had been waiting. + +"Dorothy," she whispered--"dear little Dot!" + +"Yes." The word came so faintly as scarcely to be audible. + +"When are you going to open your heart to me? Don't you love nor trust +me any longer?" + +"Oh, Mary, you know I do, and always have." The girl said this with +something of her old impulsiveness, and pressed Mary's hands almost +convulsively. + +"Then will you not tell me, dear?" said Mary coaxingly, bending to kiss +the troubled face. + +There was silence, broken only by the crackling of the burning wood and +the sputtering of the sap from the logs. + +Dorothy drew a long breath, as though she had done away with wavering, +and was now resolved to speak. + +"Yes, I will," she answered. "But remember, Mary," and she seemed +filled with fear again, "you can tell no one,--no living person,--not +even Jack. At least not yet. You will promise me this?" + +"Has it aught to do with that ring?" asked Mary, before committing +herself. + +"What ring?" Dorothy's eyes opened wide, and she spoke sharply. + +"Don't you remember the ring you gave me when you were so ill, and told +me to keep for you,--a man's ring, with a ruby set in it?" + +"No." She said it vaguely, wonderingly, as if dreaming. Then she +cried in terror, "Oh, Mary, you did not show it to Jack, nor tell him +or my father of the matter?" + +"No, my dear," Mary answered with an assuring smile. "I waited until +you were well enough to tell me more, or else tell them yourself." + +"Good Mary,--good, true sister." And Dorothy pressed her lips to the +hand she clasped. + +"But the matter has given me such a heartache, Dot, for I feared I +might be doing wrong. Surely no one can love you more than your own +father and brother. Why not tell them, as well as me, of--whatever it +is?" + +"I will, Mary," Dorothy said resolutely. "I intended to, all the time. +But not yet, not yet. I want to tell you, first of all, and see if you +can think what is best to be done. And," with a little shudder, "I +thought I had lost the ring; and the first day I was able to slip out +of doors, I hunted for it where I got off the horse that night. Oh, +that dreadful night!" She almost cried out the words as the sharpness +of awakened sorrow came to her. + +"Come, Dot," Mary urged, "tell me. I'll promise to keep silent until +you bid me speak." She knew they were losing precious time, for her +husband would not be long gone, having promised to return in order that +she might go down for her own supper. + +Dorothy hesitated no longer, but, in the fewest possible words, +unburdened her heart, while Mary listened in speechless amazement. + +Her indignation and horror grew apace until the story was all told. +Then she cried: "It was a cowardly, unmanly trick,--a traitor's deed! +He is no gentleman, with all his fine pretence of manners." + +"Ah--but he is." And Dorothy sighed softly, and in a way to have +opened Mary's eyes, had she been less absorbed by the anger now +controlling her. + +"By birth, mayhap," she admitted, although reluctantly; then adding +fiercely, "he surely is not one in his acts." + +Then her voice grew gentle again, and the tears seemed to be near, as +she laid her head alongside the curly one upon the pillow. + +"Oh, my poor, poor little Dot," she said; "to think of the dreadful +thing you have been carrying in your mind all this time! Small wonder +that you were pale and sad,--it was enough to kill you." + +The words brought Dorothy's grief to her once more. Then Mary broke +down as well, and the two wept together, their heads touching each +other on the pillow. + +"And now whatever is to be done?" Mary said, as soon as her calmness +returned,--a calmness filled with indignation and resentment. "Since +this man is surely your husband, you must needs obey him, I suppose, if +he insists upon it. And now that he is going away, it would seem +natural for him to come here, despite his promise to wait until he was +asked. And I should say he would be quite sure to demand that you go +away with him. And," almost in terror, "for your father to hear of it +for the first time in such a fashion, and from him!" + +"Oh, Mary, don't talk in that way!" cried Dorothy, in affright, and +clinging still closer to her. + +"But never you fear, Dot," Mary said more encouragingly, "so long as +Jack is here to look after you. That man will never dare seek to drag +you from your father's house while Jack is about. And besides, the +townspeople would never permit him to leave the place alive, should he +attempt such a thing." + +"I won't go--I'll never go!" Dorothy exclaimed passionately. "But--" +Her voice took a different note, and she stopped. + +"But--what?" asked Mary instantly, for she heard her husband's +footsteps on the uncarpeted staircase. + +"I don't want any harm to befall him," was the tremulous answer. + +"Oh, Dot," Mary began in dismay, "can it be possible that, after all, +you--" + +But Dorothy interrupted her. + +"Hush!" she whispered, "here comes Jack." Then beseechingly, "Oh, +Mary, say once more that you'll not tell him yet." + +But her husband was already in the room, and all Mary could do was to +press Dorothy's hand. + +A little later in the evening all the members of the family were again +in the drawing-room. Dorothy, in order to relieve their anxiety, and +especially on her father's account, had joined them; and the girl now +made greater efforts than ever before to appear like herself. + +This was now easier for her, from having shared her burdensome secret +with Mary, who seemed to have taken upon her shoulders a good part of +the troublesome load. + +She carried herself with a much quieter mien than usual, but in a way +not to excite comment, save when her husband said to her as they were +closing the shutters to keep out the night and make the room still more +cosey, "What is it, sweetheart,--are you troubled over Dot?" + +"Yes," she replied, thankful that she could answer so truthfully. + +"The child is going to be as she should, I am sure," he said, glancing +over his shoulder to where his sister was sitting, close beside her +father, her head resting against his shoulder. She was smiling at +something Aunt Lettice had been telling of 'Bitha, whom she had just +been putting to bed. + +Before Mary could say anything more, a sudden clatter of hoofs outside +announced the arrival of horsemen, and a minute later the sounding of +the heavy brass knocker echoed through the hall. + +Dorothy and Mary looked at each other in alarm, the same intuition +making them fear what this might portend. + +"Whatever can it be at this hour!" exclaimed Joseph Devereux, as his +son went to answer the noisy summons. "I hope nothing is wrong in the +town." + +There came the sound of men's voices, low at first, but soon growing +louder, and then almost menacing, as the outer door was sharply closed. + +"And I say, sirrah,"--it was the voice of John Devereux--"that you +cannot see her." + +Dorothy sprang from her father's side and sped to the door, which she +flung wide open, and stood, with widening eyes and pale cheeks, upon +the threshold. A moment more, and Mary was alongside her; and then, +his face filled with amazement and anger, Joseph Devereux followed them. + +Standing with his back against the closed door, was a stalwart young +dragoon, his red uniform making a ruddy gleam in the dimly lit hall as +he angrily confronted the son of the house. + +But no sooner did he catch sight of the small figure in the open +doorway than the anger left his face, and he stood before her with +uncovered head, paying no more heed to the others than if they had been +part of the furniture in the hall. + +"Sweet Mistress Dorothy," he said,--and his eyes searched her face with +a passionate inquiry--"we are ordered away, as you may have heard. I +am leaving the town to-night, and could not go until I had seen you +once more." + +The eyes looking up into his were filled with many emotions, but +Dorothy made no reply. + +He waited a moment for her to speak. Then an eager, appealing look +came to his face, and he asked, "Have you naught to say to me--no word +for me before I go?" + +Joseph Devereux now found his voice. + +"Aught to say to ye, sirrah!" he demanded furiously. "What should a +daughter o' mine have to say to one of His Majesty's officers, who has +been to this house but once before, and then, as now, only by means of +his own audacity?" + +At the sound of this angry voice Dorothy shuddered, and tearing her +eyes from those blue ones that had not once left her face, she turned +quickly and clung to her father. + +The young man laughed, but not pleasantly, and there was a nervous +twitching of the fingers resting upon the hilt of his sword. + +"You are surely aware, sir," he said, "that I have the honor of a +slight acquaintance with your daughter. And I fail to see why I should +be insulted, simply because I was mistaken in holding it to be but +natural courtesy that I should bid her farewell." + +Here his voice broke in a way that was strange to all save Dorothy and +Mary, as he added: "We leave this place to-morrow, sir, and your +daughter and myself are never like to meet again; and I had good reason +to wish the privilege of begging her forgiveness for aught I may have +done to cause her annoyance. And if she refused me forgiveness, then +she might be pleased to wish me a right speedy meeting with a bullet +from one of her own people's guns." + +Joseph Devereux looked sorely puzzled at these strange words, which +seemed to bear some hidden meaning. Then, as he felt the quivering of +the slight form clinging to him so closely, and heard the tremulous +"Oh, father, speak him kindly," his face relaxed and he spoke less +brusquely than at first. + +"Your conduct seems rather cavalier, young sir, but we surely have no +wish to seem insulting; and as for any annoyance you may have caused my +daughter, I am ignorant o' such. It is but natural, considering the +times, that we do not relish receiving into our houses gentry who wear +such color as is your coat; and yet we are not cut-throats, either in +deed or thought. We pray and hope for the good of our country and +cause; and for such, and such only, do we think o' the use o' bullets." + +During all this time the dragoon's eyes never strayed from the curly +head pressed against the old man's arm. And now, while her father was +speaking, Dorothy's face was turned, and the big dark eyes, full of +perplexity and fear, met his own and held them. + +Mary had made a sign to her husband, and he followed her into the +drawing-room, where Aunt Lettice was still sitting before the fire, the +trembling fingers betraying her excitement as they flashed the slender +needles back and forth through the stocking she was knitting. + +"What does it all mean, dear?" she inquired, as Mary came and looked +down into the fire, while she twisted her hands together in a nervous +fashion most unusual with her. + +"It means," John Devereux answered angrily, but not loud enough to +reach the ears of those in the hall, "that there is never any telling +to what length the presuming impudence of these redcoats will go." He +ground his teeth savagely as he wondered why he had not taken the +intruder by the collar and ejected him before the others came upon the +scene; and he was now angry at himself for not having done this. + +"Whatever can he wish to say good-by to Dot for?" he muttered hastily +to his wife. "And whatever can he mean about annoying her? Annoy her, +indeed! Had he done such a thing, I should have heard of it ere this, +and he would not have gone unpunished all these days, to crawl in now +with a pretence of apology." + +"It seems to me there was little show of crawling in the way he came," +said Mary, with the ghost of a smile, and speaking only because her +husband seemed to be expecting her to say something. Her brain was in +a tumult as she wondered what would be the end of all this, and what +would--what could poor Dorothy do for her own peace of mind and that of +her father? + +She feared that, should a sudden knowledge of the truth come to him, it +might be his death-blow; and she made no doubt that if her hot-headed +husband knew it, the young dragoon would scarcely be permitted to leave +the house unscathed, if indeed he were not killed outright. And then +she thought of a duel,--of its chances, and of her husband not being +the one to survive. + +At this a low cry escaped from her lips before she could prevent it; +and her husband stepped closer to her side. + +"It is nothing--nothing," she said brokenly, in response to his anxious +questioning. "I was but thinking." + +"Thinking of what, sweetheart?" + +"If any harm should befall you," she answered. + +"Why, what harm, think you, should come to me?" And he took her hands, +holding them close, while he tried to look into her averted eyes. + +"I--don't know," she said evasively. "These are such dreadful times +that have come to us, that no one can tell what is like to happen. +Oh," with a sudden impetuous burst, more suited to Dorothy than to her +own calm self, "I wish there had never been such a nation as the +English!" + +When Joseph Devereux had done speaking, the young man turned his eyes +from the pale face in which he seemed to have been searching for some +hint or suggestion as to what he should now say. + +That his quest was fruitless,--that he found nothing, no fleeting +glance or expression, to indicate the girl's present feeling toward +him, was apparent from the look of keen disappointment, well-nigh +despair, that now settled upon his own face, making it almost ghastly +in the uncertain light. + +But despite all this, his self-control did not leave him; and after one +more glance into the dark eyes--fixed and set, as though there was no +life animating them--he drew himself erect, and made an odd gesture +with his right hand, flinging it out as if forever thrusting aside all +further thought of her. Then, without looking at her again, he +addressed her father. + +"It was not to discuss such matters that I ventured to force my way +into this house, sir," he said with a dignified courtesy hardly to be +looked for in one of his years. "It was only that I could not--or felt +that I should not--go away without holding speech with Mistress +Dorothy. It would seem that she has naught to say to me, and so I have +only to beg her pardon, and take my leave. And, sir, I entreat the +same pardon from you and the other members of your household for any +inconvenience I may have caused you and them." + +He bowed to the old gentleman, and turned slowly away. But before he +had taken many steps toward the outer door, Dorothy's voice arrested +him, and he turned quickly about. + +"Stay--wait a moment." And leaving her father's side, she went toward +the young man. + +"Believe me," she said, speaking very low and very gently, as she +paused while yet a few steps away from him, "I wish you well, not harm." + +"Do you still hold to what you told me?" he asked quickly, paying no +heed to her words. + +His voice did not reach her father's ears; and the young man's eyes +searched her face as though his fate depended upon what he might read +there. + +"Yes!" The answer was as low-pitched as his question, but firm and +fearless. And he saw the fingers of both little hands clench +themselves in the folds of her gown, while the lace kerchief crossed +over her bosom seemed to pulsate with the angry throbbing of her heart. + +"And you will never forgive me?" He spoke now in a louder tone, but +with the same pleading look in his pale face. + +Dorothy's eyes met his own fairly and steadily, but she said nothing. + +He waited a second, and then bending quickly, he clasped both her hands +and carried them to his lips. + +"God help me," he said hoarsely, as he released them,--"God help both +of us!" + +With this he turned away, and opening the door, went out into the +darkness. + +Dorothy stood perfectly still, with her father staring perplexedly into +her white face. It had all passed too quickly for him to +interfere,--to speak, even, had he been so minded. + +At the sound of the closing door John Devereux came again into the +hall; and now the noise of horses' hoofs was heard, dying away outside. + +"Dot--my child, what is it?" her father exclaimed, his heart stirred by +a presentiment of some ill he could not define. And he moved toward +the mute figure standing like a statue in the centre of the wide hall. + +But John was there before him; and as he passed his arm around her, she +started, and a dry, gasping breath broke from her lips,--one that might +have been a sob, had there been any sign of tears in the wild eyes that +seemed to hold no sight as they were turned to her brother's face. + +"Dot--little sister," he cried, "tell me--what is the matter?" + +And Mary, now close beside them, added quickly, "Tell him, Dot,--tell +him now." + +"Tell," Dorothy repeated mechanically, her voice sounding strained and +husky. "Tell--tell him yourself, Mary. Tell him that--" And she +fell, a dead weight, against her brother's breast. + + + + +CHAPTER XXV + +Whether it was due to ordinary physical causes, or was the result of +mental agitation arising from what has been told herein, cannot well be +determined; but, soon after Dorothy had been carried to her +room,--conscious, but in a condition to forbid all questioning or +explanation--her father was taken with what in the language of that day +was termed a "seizure,"--so serious as to alarm the household, and +divert all thoughts from other affairs. + +He had been pacing up and down the drawing-room, now deserted by all +save himself and his son. His hands were clasped behind him, his chin +was sunk upon his breast, and his brows knit as though from anxious +thought. + +Jack sat staring into the fire; and both were waiting for the return of +either Mary or Aunt Lettice, both of whom had gone to Dorothy's room to +give her such attention as she might require. + +It was Mary who came to announce that the girl was now better, and +that, having taken a sleeping potion administered by Aunt Lettice, she +wished to see her father. + +The old gentleman left the room with a brisk step; and Mary's eyes +followed him nervously as she went over and seated herself by her +husband. + +They were silent for a time, both of them watching the flames that +arched from the logs over the fiery valleys and miniature cliffs made +by the burnt and charred wood, until Jack asked suddenly, "Why do you +not tell me now, sweetheart?" + +Mary well knew what he meant; but she waited a moment, thinking how +best she might reveal the sad and terrible matter she had to disclose. + +"Mary,"--he now spoke a little impatiently, and as though to rouse her +from her abstraction--"tell me what all this means." + +She stole a hand into his, and then repeated to him all that Dorothy +had told her. + +He listened with fast-growing anger; and then, coupled with his first +outburst of rage against the hated redcoat, were reproaches for his +wife, that she had not sooner informed him of the trouble. + +"He would never have left the house alive, had I known it before," he +cried savagely. "As it is, I'll ride after him as soon as day comes, +and call him to an accounting for his villany,--the dastardly +scoundrel! And Mary--oh, my wife, how could you keep it from me till +now?" + +Her heart sank at this, the first note of reproof or displeasure his +voice had ever held for her. + +"You must remember, Jack," she pleaded, "how sorely I was distressed to +know what to do, for I had given my promise to Dot, and could not break +it. And you must know as well that it was not until this very evening +that I learned of the matter." + +"True," he admitted. "But"--persistently--"there was the ruby ring, +when the child was first taken ill; how could you keep that from me?" + +He spoke reproachfully, but his voice was growing softer, and his anger +was now gone, for Mary was sobbing, her head against his breast. And +this was as strange to him as his harsh words had been to her. + +"I'll never--never keep any matter from you again," she protested +brokenly. "I promise it, Jack, for now I see it was very wrong." + +"There--there, sweetheart," he said soothingly, as he stroked her +bright hair,--"'t is all well for us now, and will ever be, if you but +keep to what you say. But Dot--poor little Dot!" And his anger came +again. + +"Oh, that villain, that cursed villain,--but he shall reckon with me +for this outrage! And 't is well for that scoundrel Weeks that he's +been made to flee the town for his seditious sentiments and preachings." + +"But," Mary explained, "Dot said he was forced to do it, at peril of +his life; that he--the Englishman--held a pistol to his head and swore +he'd shoot him if he refused." + +"Pah," said Jack, contemptuously, "he'd never have dared go so far as +that. Master Weeks is but a poor coward." Then he asked quickly, +"Think you, Mary, that Dot is telling our father aught of the matter +now?" + +"I cannot say," was his wife's irresolute answer. "I fear so, and yet +I cannot but hope so, as well,--for how can another ever tell him?" + +"Aye," groaned the young man; "it will come nigh to killing him." + +But Dorothy had not told her father anything. No sooner had he come to +her bedside than her eyes filled with a contented light, and slipping +her hand within his close clasp, she fell tranquilly asleep, too +stunned and numbed by physical weakness and contending emotions,--her +senses too dulled from the effects of Aunt Lettice's draught--to find +words wherein to pour out her heart to him. + +He left her sleeping quietly, and returned to those below; and soon +thereafter the seizure came, and he fell back in his chair, speechless, +with closed eyes and inert limbs. + + +It was Mary and Aunt Lettice who ministered to him, with the help of +his son and the faithful Tyntie, who was summoned from Dorothy's room, +where she had been sent to watch the sleeping girl. + +Leet was too old and slow of movement to be entrusted with the +summoning of Dr. Paine; and Trent, who slept in one of the outer +buildings, was aroused and despatched forthwith, with orders to use all +possible speed, as they feared the master was already dead or dying. + +They carried him at once to his own bed, where he lay unconscious, with +no change in his appearance or breathing; and his son, sitting beside +him, gazed with agonized eyes upon the white face lying against the +pillows, his own face almost as white, and seeming to have aged under +this flood of sorrow now opened in their midst. + +It was well along toward morning, although yet dark, with the sky +cloudless and gemmed with stars, before Dr. Paine arrived. + +The first thing the bustling little man did was to bleed his patient, +as was then the practice in treating most ailments. Its present +efficacy was soon apparent, for it was not long before the labored, +irregular breathing became more natural and the old man opened his eyes. + +But there was an unusual look in them,--one that never went away. And +although after a time he recovered some of his strength, and was able +to go about the house, the hale, rugged health and vigorous manhood +were gone forever, and Joseph Devereux remained but a shadow of his +former self. + +His days were all alike,--passed in sitting before the fire downstairs, +or else dozing in his own room; and he had neither care nor thought for +the matters that had once been of such moment to him. + +The others were with him constantly, to guard against possible accident +or harm, as well as to do all in their power in smoothing the way for +the loved one they felt was soon to leave them. And he, as well as +themselves, albeit he never spoke of it, seemed to understand +this,--that they, like him, were waiting for the end, when he should be +summoned by the voice none can deny. + +And thus he remained day after day, spending much of his time with the +other members of his family,--listening apparently to all they might +say to him or to one another; but sitting with silent lips, and eyes +that seemed to grow larger and more wondrous in expression and light, +as if already looking into that mysterious world,-- + + "Beyond the journeyings of the sun, + Where streams of living waters run,"-- + +that world whose glories no speech might convey to earthly +understanding. + +"I can never tell him now," Dorothy said with bitter sorrow, addressing +Mary, as the two were alone in the dining-room. It was one of the days +when her father had risen for his morning meal, and, after sitting with +them awhile, had returned to his room to lie down. + +"'T is best not, dear," Mary assented. "Do not burden his heart now, +for it would only give him bitter sorrow to brood over. Jack knows the +whole matter, and he can do all that is to be done." + +"And what is that?" Dorothy asked, speaking a little sharply. + +"Call the man to a strict account," was Mary's reply, with anger now +showing in her voice. + +"No, Mary, no," cried Dorothy, with much of her old spirit. "That must +not be,--at least not now." Then more gently, as she observed Mary's +look of surprise, "Naught that he nor any one can say or do will mend +what has been done; and it is my earnest wish that the matter be let +alone, just as it is, for the present. Perhaps the future may show +some way out of it." But she spoke as though saying one thing and +meaning quite another. + +"Will you tell Jack all this?" Mary asked, with an odd look. + +"Me?" cried Dorothy, in great alarm. "No, no, Mary; you must do that. +I do not wish to have him speak to me of the matter; I could not bear +it." And she covered her face with her hands, as if to shut out the +very prospect of such a thing. + +Mary's white forehead wrinkled as though from perplexity, while her +slender fingers tapped nervously upon the arm of her chair. + +She knew not what to make of the girl,--of her words and actions, of +her strange and sudden sickness and faintings, of all that had come to +her since the advent of this young Britisher. + +And within these past few minutes a new anxiety had found its way into +her mind, and this prompted her to ask, "Can it be, Dot, that you have +permitted this stranger to come between you and your only brother, who +loves you best of all in the world?" + +But Dorothy evaded the question. "That he does not," she asserted, +taking her hands from in front of her face and trying to smile; "'t is +you he loves best of all." + +Mary flushed a little, but replied with tender earnestness, "But you +know, Dot, he and I are one. We both love you next to each other, and +we wish to serve you and assure your happiness." + +Dorothy sighed and looked down at the floor. "I doubt if I shall ever +be happy again, Mary," she said; "and the best way to serve me is to +leave me alone and let me go my own way." + +She spoke as though wishing to dismiss the matter, and, rising from her +chair, walked over to the window and stood looking off over the meadow +lands and toward the sea. + +It was a cheering, hopeful sight, for the snow was gone, and everything +in nature was beginning to show a touch of the coming spring. + +Later that same morning they were in Mary's room, the young wife busy +with some sewing, while Dorothy, with much of the former color showing +in her face, was moving restlessly about. + +"Dorothy!" + +Mary spoke suddenly, as though impelled by a hasty resolution, and +there was a look in her blue eyes that made a fitting accompaniment to +her words; but she kept them averted from Dorothy, who had turned and +was coming slowly toward her. + +"Dorothy," she repeated, as the girl drew close to her, "where is that +ruby ring?" + +Dorothy came to a stop, and every drop of blood seemed to find its way +to her face. + +"Eh,--ring,--what ring?" She glanced at her hands, and then at Mary's +face, still turned partially away from her. + +"That ruby ring I gave you back, and advised that you throw it into the +fire or into the sea, and with it all thought of the dastardly giver." + +Dorothy did not reply, and Mary now looked at her as she said slowly +and distinctly, "If you cannot tell, I can. It is over your heart, +hanging about your neck on a chain." + +The girl gave a gasp, and Mary saw her face paling, only to flush +again, while the dark eyes filled with tears. + +"Oh, Dot," she cried, astonished and angry, "how can you love such a +man?" + +Dorothy threw herself on her knees and hid her face in Mary's lap, +sobbing as if the words had broken a seal set to keep this knowledge +from even her own heart. + +"I don't know, Mary, but I do--I do love him, and have, for always. +And now he has gone--gone away, thinking I hate him, and I may never +see him again." + +Mary put her arms around the little form, and used all her efforts to +soothe the passionate outburst. She could not but feel that she had +been wise in thus forcing Dorothy to open her heart, for not only did +she know the girl would feel better for having spoken, but she herself +had a new and most important fact to guide her own future action. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI + +Mary felt that she must lose no time in making her husband as wise as +herself with respect to Dorothy's real sentiments, and in having him +understand that he could not bring any harm to the young Britisher +without making his sister all the more unhappy. + +She wondered what Jack would say--as to the effect it would have upon +his temper and actions. But she was determined upon this,--that if he +showed resentment or anger, she would assert herself in Dorothy's +defence, feeling as she did that it was too late to do other than +submit to what fate had brought about, and all the more especially, +since Dorothy had confessed to loving this man. + +"I could almost wish he had been killed outright the morning I made him +tumble over the rocks," she said to herself, "or that he had fallen +into the sea, never to be seen again." Then, realizing that this was +little short of murder, she shrank from such musings, shocked to find +herself so wicked. + +There came still another burden of sorrow when she imparted the whole +truth to her husband. + +He listened with a brooding face, only the unusual glitter in his eyes +showing how it stirred him. Then, after a long silence, while he +appeared to be turning the matter in his mind, he exclaimed, not +angrily, but with nothing showing in his voice save bitter +self-reproach: "Blind fool that I've been, seeking to keep my little +sister a child in thought. And right here, under my very eyes, has she +become a woman, both in love and suffering!" + +He sprang to his feet and began to pace back and forth, his wife +watching him with troubled eyes. Presently he came and looked down +into her face. + +His own was pale, but it had a set, determined expression, as though +the struggle were over, and he had turned his back upon all the hopes +he had builded for his beloved sister,--upon what might have been, but +now never to be. + +"Sweetheart," he said, "there is one other we are bound in honor to +take into our confidence, to tell all we know of this sad matter, and +that is Hugh Knollys. He is not like to return here this many a day; +still it is possible he may, or that I may be sent to the neighborhood +of Boston before the summer comes. But whichever way I see him, I +shall have to tell him the truth. Poor old Hugh!" + +"Why, John!" But Mary's eyes filled with a look bespeaking full +knowledge of what he was to say, although she had never suspected it +until now. + +He told her of all that passed between Hugh and himself that night, so +many months ago. And when he finished, she could only sigh, and repeat +his own words, "Poor Hugh!" + +"Aye, poor Hugh, indeed, for I know the boy's heart well. It will be a +dreadful thing for him to face, and with his hands tied, as are my own, +against doing aught to the Britisher because his welfare matters so +much to Dot." + +Then he added almost impatiently: "I wish the child would let me talk +with her. She must, before I go away, else I'll speak without her +consent. So long as we are situated as now, it may do no harm to let +the matter drift along; but if I have to leave home--" + +"Oh, Jack, don't speak of such a thing," Mary interrupted. And rising +quickly, she laid her hand on his shoulder as though to hold him fast. + +"Why not, sweetheart?" he said, compelled to smile at her anxiety. "We +know what we have to face in these distracting times; we knew it when +we married. Matters grow worse with every week, each day almost. But +we must be brave, my darling, and you will best hold me to my duty by +keeping a stout heart, no matter whether I go or stay. And go I am +pretty sure to, the same as every other man in the town, for we may +look, any day, for a battle somewhere about Boston." + +Mary clung to him shudderingly, but was silent. + +Hugh Knollys had been all this time at Cambridge, where troops were +mustering from every part of the land; and many men from Marblehead +were there or in the neighborhood. + +They had heard from him but once, and then through Johnnie Strings, +who, after this last trip--now over a month since--had returned to +Cambridge with a very indefinite notion as to when he would come back +to the old town. + +The pedler also reported having seen Aunt Penine, who was quartered +near Boston, at the house of some royalist relatives of her brother's +wife,--he himself having left his home in Lynn and taken up arms for +the King. + +Mistress Knollys was also away, for she had closed her homestead and +gone to stop with an only sister living at Dorchester,--doing this for +safety, and before the soldiers left the Neck. + +A decided feeling of impending war was now sharpened and well defined, +and all were waiting for the actual clash of arms. + +Late in February, His Majesty's ship "Lively," mounting twenty guns, +arrived in the harbor and came to anchor off the fort; and her officers +proceeded to make themselves fully as obnoxious as had the hated +soldiers. + +They diligently searched all incoming vessels that could by any pretext +be suspected; and where they found anything in the nature of military +stores, these were confiscated. + +One vessel, carrying a chest of arms destined for the town, was, +although anchored close to the "Lively," boarded one night by a party +of intrepid young men under the lead of one Samuel R. Trevett, who +succeeded in removing the arms, which they concealed on shore. + +Later on in the month a body of troops landed one Sunday morning on +Homans' Beach; and after loading their guns, the soldiers took up their +march through the town. + +The alarm drums were beaten at the door of every church to warn the +worshippers, and it was not long before the hitherto quiet streets were +thronged with an excited crowd of indignant citizens, gathered in +active defence of their rights. + +They suspected the object of the enemy to be the seizure of several +pieces of artillery secreted at Salem. But in this--or whatever was +their purpose--they were baffled, meeting with such determined +opposition as to be forced to march back to the shore and re-embark, +with no more disastrous result to either side than the usual number of +bloody faces and bruised fists, such as had distinguished the sojourn +of the regulars upon the Neck. + +Aside from these two events, the days in the old town passed much as +before, despite the ever-increasing certainty of war,--this leading the +townsfolk to go armed night and day, and to keep close watch from the +outlooks for any sudden descent the enemy might seek to make. + +The last vestige of snow was gone from the shaded nooks amid the trees +on the hills,--the land, swept dry and clear of all signs of winter, +was waiting for the sun to warm the brown earth into life; and in the +hollows of the woods, the tender shoots of the first wild flowers were +already showing, where the winds had brushed away the fallen leaves of +the year before. + +It was the twenty-first of April, and the expected battle had come at +last, for Lexington was two days old. The news was brought into town +before the morning of the twentieth, and had resulted in the sudden +departure of many of the younger men for the immediate scene of action. + +Among these was John Devereux; and Mary was to accompany her husband to +the town, in order that she might be with him until the very last +moment. + +The parting between father and son was full of solemnity, for each felt +it to be the last time they would meet on earth. + +"God bless and keep you, my dear boy," said Joseph Devereux, showing +more of his natural vigor than for many weeks past, as he fixed his +large eyes upon the handsome young face, pale, but filled with +resolution and high purpose. "God bless and keep you in the struggle +in which I know you will do your part unflinchingly. Never be guilty +of aught in the future, as you have never in the past, to stain the +good name you bear." + +Fearing that which he deemed a reflection upon his manhood, the young +man did not reply in words, but threw his arms about his father's neck +in a way he had not done since boyhood; and the old man alone knew how +something wet still lay upon his withered cheek after his son had left +him. + +The last person to whom Jack said farewell was his sister. She had +stolen away to her own room, and there he found her weeping. + +"Little Dot," he said in a choking voice, opening his arms to her as he +paused just across the threshold. + +She looked up, and with a low cry--half of pain, half joy--fled to him; +and with this the shadow, almost estrangement, that had come between +them was swept away forever. + +He held her tight against his breast, and let her weep silently for a +time, before he said very gently, "Dot, my little girl, I must speak to +you on a certain matter before I go away." + +She raised her head and kissed him; and this he took as permission to +tell her what was upon his mind. + +"Dot, I cannot go from you without having everything between us the +same as has been all our lives, until these past few sad months." + +At this she clung all the closer to him. + +"You were badly treated, little one," he continued, "shamefully +treated; and it was a great grief to me that you did not come and trust +your brother to the end of telling him the whole matter at the very +first. But 't is all past now, and words are of no worth. Only this I +must know from your own lips,--if you love this man who has forced +himself to be your husband, and if you love him sufficiently to leave +us all, should he so bid you?" + +"That he will never do," Dorothy answered, her voice full of sad +conviction. "He has gone, thinking I hate him." + +"And why did you send him away with such a notion as that?" + +"Oh, Jack," the girl cried piteously, "cannot you see--can you not +understand? I could not go and leave you all. I dared not tell at the +time all that had happened--I did not know what to do." + +"And you love not the cause he fights for, though you love the man +himself?" And a faint smile touched his lips. + +"That is it, Jack," she answered, relieved at being understood. "You +have spoken my own feelings. I could not leave father; had I done so, +think of what would have come to me now." + +"Poor father, 't is well he will never need to know. Well, Dot," and +he tried to speak cheerily, "although 't is a sad tangle now, perhaps +time will straighten it somewhat; and all we can do is to wait and +hope." + +"And you'll never say aught to--him, should you two meet?" Dorothy +asked wistfully, a burning color deepening in her cheeks. + +"Should he and I meet," the young man said with a scowl, "it is not +likely to be in a fashion that will permit discourse of any sort." +Then he regretted his words, for his sister shivered and hid her face +over his heart. + +"Come, Dot,"--and now he spoke more calmly, while he caressed the curly +head lying against his breast--"try to keep a brave heart. You have +done no wrong, little one, and we are all in God's hands. Pray you to +Him for your brother while he is from home; and pray as well that all +these sad matters will come right in the end." + +He pressed a kiss upon her tearful face, and was gone. + +Arriving in the town, he found his companions ready to depart; and +before sunset he was upon the road to Boston, leaving his wife to stop +for a day with Mistress Horton. + +The following evening it was apparent that the end was coming fast to +Joseph Devereux. + +Dorothy was alone with the stricken man, Aunt Lettice, who took 'Bitha +with her, having gone into the town early that afternoon, to make some +purchases, intending to return later with Mary. + +Dr. Paine had told them how the end would probably come; and it was as +he had said. He himself was away toward Boston, where his services +were most needed, and there was no other physician for Dorothy to +summon, even had she felt it necessary. + +But she well knew the uselessness of this. No human skill could +prolong the life of him who had been stricken down late in the +afternoon, and now lay unconscious, breathing heavily, like a strong +swimmer breasting heavy seas. And what sea beats so relentlessly as do +the black waters of Death? + +Dorothy had stolen for a moment to the window, scarcely able to endure +to sit longer by the bed, listening to those gasping breaths that wrung +her heart with the passionate sense of impotence to help, or even ease, +the dying man. + +Curled up in the broad window-seat, her face turned from the dimly +lighted room to the fast-falling night outside, the past, and its +contrast with the present, seemed to unroll before her with a vividness +of detail such as we are told comes to one who is drowning. + +All that was happy seemed to lie behind her; all the cheer and comfort +of the old home were gone, never to return--no more than would her +father's protecting love. + +And he--her father--was now drawing nigh to the day that knows no +darkness, no dawning; while for her the night shadows of the bitter +parting were closing about, dark and cold. + +The incoming tide was almost at the full, and the surf sounded like a +moaning voice from the sea. It was to the young girl's tortured +imagination a warning voice, bidding her heed that the fashion of this +world must pass away, and with it the souls of its children, who, like +merry little ones gathering flowers in fair fields, unheeding, +unthinking, grow grave only as the day draws on. It told her that they +grow wise--sad, perhaps--as the sun sinks; and that when the darkness +falls they lie down to sleep, with tired brains and heavy hearts, all +their buoyancy gone with the day's brightness. They have come to know +its bitter lesson of weary struggle, of sore disappointment and +heart-breaks. + +The sky was filled with broken banks of ragged clouds that sent great +tattered streamers across the zenith, entangling the glittering stars +that seemed struggling to push them away, as if they were smothering +draperies, from before their silvery faces. + +Over in the east a faint spot of dusky red was showing in a cloud-rift. +It was the rising moon, seeming to battle, like the stars, with the +black hosts seeking to envelop it. It fought bravely, like a valiant +soldier, and emerging triumphantly at last, threw a bar of dull red, +like a pathway, across the sullen floor of the ocean. + +This reached from the shore, out over the water, far away, to end in +the heavy shadows looming against the horizon like the walls of the +City of Death, whose angel keeper was even now unbarring the gates for +the call that should bring the soul of Joseph Devereux within their +misty portals. + +Dwellers by the sea have a belief that the souls of those who are +called, go ever with the turning of the tide. It was now only an hour, +or less, to that; and Dorothy was waiting with a trembling heart for +the ebb of the sea to carry her father away to the world of shadows. + +He lay motionless, as though his soul were already departed, save for +that same heavy breathing. + +There was no change in this. It was as regular in its hoarse panting +as the swinging of the pendulum in the clock outside the door,--the old +clock that had seen both joy and sorrow passing before it through many +generations, and had seemed to look with friendliness upon every +eye--blue, black, gray, or brown--uplifted to its great face,--eyes +that had long since been closed, some of them not even having time to +grow dim with age or be moistened by tears of grief. + +"Gone--gone--going," it sighed in Dorothy's ears, until she covered +them with her hands to shut out the sound, and with it the moaning of +the surf. + +"Dot, my little girl!" A faint voice broke the stillness as the heavy +breathing was hushed. + +She flew to the bedside and knelt there, while she pressed her warm +mouth against the nerveless hand, whose chill seemed to strike her very +heart. Her father felt the quivering of her lips, and tried to lift +his other hand to her head. + +She knew this without seeing it, and moving yet closer to him, she laid +her face over his heart, her head fitting into the hollow of his arm as +she clasped his hand with her small fingers. + +"Dot, my baby--oh, my little girl!" + +The words came with all his old strength of voice, and she felt that he +was weeping. + +Startled at this outbreak, and alarmed for fear of some injury it might +do him, all the girl's grief became swallowed up in the new energy that +now surged through her. + +"Hush!" she said soothingly, placing her face against his own. "Hush, +dear! Never mind me; I shall be well enough. I know--I know," choking +back a sob that rose in her throat like a stinging blow, "that all is +for the best, 'that He doeth all things well.'" + +"Yes, yes," her father murmured drowsily, as though calmed by her words +and caresses. "Aye, my child, 'though I walk through the valley of the +shadow of death, I will fear no evil.' God is on the other side, +waiting--waiting--for me." + +His eyelids had fallen again, and the closing words came in a faint +whisper. He was now breathing heavily as before, and was seemingly +unconscious; and Dorothy felt that he had come back for a moment from +out the dark shadows gathering to shut them apart, so that he might +speak to her once more in the voice she loved so dearly. + +She did not stir, but remained kneeling by the bed, his arm around her, +and his hand clasping her fingers with marvellous firmness. + +She could feel and hear the feeble beating of the loving heart that had +ever held her so tenderly. Throbbing against her cheek, its pulses +seemed to keep rhythm with the mournful booming of the surf on the +shore. + +Suddenly, like a mighty ocean of falling waters, there came, to +overwhelm her unnatural calm, the thought of what her world would be +when that true, loyal heart was stilled,--when she could only lay her +cheek against the earth that shut it away from her. + +A giant hand seemed clutching at her throat; the grief, rising in +mighty bursts, could find no vent in tears, and a gasping cry sprang +from her lips, causing her to stir unconsciously within his arm. + +His grasp tightened upon her hand, and her acutely listening ears heard +him whisper brokenly, "'Lo, I am with you alway, even unto the end.'" + +The words brought to her a strange comfort. And now his feeble hand +caressed her head in a wandering, fluttering way, and she felt as in +her baby days when he used to rock her to sleep; for his failing voice +began to croon the old hymn he so often sang to her then. + +She crept still closer to him. She was quieted for the moment, and +filled with an awe as if angels were all about them. Her wild grief +was hushed,--the agony of clutching pain in her throat dissolved itself +in silent tears, and the sound of the surf now seemed a peaceful, +soothing voice. + +She felt as though she were going with her father along the way through +the dark valley,--even to the very gates of jasper and pearl that would +give him entrance to the City of Light, then to close, leaving her +without. + +Fainter, yet fainter grew his voice, at length dying away altogether. +She heard her name breathed softly, just as he used to speak it when +she, a little maid, was nestling in his arms, and he wished to assure +himself of her being asleep. + +"Yes," she whispered. + +"My baby, 't is growing dark, blackly dark, little one. Ye'd better +get to bed." + +She made no answer--she could not, but listened breathlessly. + +"My baby--my baby Dot. God keep my baby!" + +The words were scarcely spoken, but came like long sighs, to mingle and +die away with the night wind moaning outside the window. And it was as +if the surf caught them, and repeated them to the watching stars. + +"God--keep--my--baby!" + +The room was still--still as the great loving heart under her cheek. +And the tide was on the ebb. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII + +The summer days found Glover's regiment stationed, a portion at +Cambridge, and the remainder on the high grounds of Roxbury, where were +also all the other Massachusetts troops, as well as some of those from +Connecticut. + +John Devereux, being on duty at Cambridge, had approved of his wife +accepting Mistress Knollys' invitation to stop with her in Dorchester. +Her brother-in-law had been killed at Bunker Hill, and his devoted +wife, broken-hearted, died soon thereafter, thus leaving Mistress +Knollys entirely alone. + +Mary insisted upon Dorothy accompanying her, for the girl had become +greatly changed since her father's death, and Mary, as well as Aunt +Lettice, deemed it wise to try the diverting effect of new scenes and +associations. Then, too, Dorothy had always been a prime favorite with +Mistress Knollys, and returned sincerely the good lady's motherly +affection. + +Thus it was that Aunt Lettice and 'Bitha were left alone at the +Devereux farm, whose flocks and stores had already been much depleted +by generous contributions sent up to the patriot army about Boston. + +Mary saw her husband at rare intervals, when it was possible for him to +snatch a few hours from his post of duty; but Hugh never came. + +Mary could readily divine the reason for this, and so could Mistress +Knollys, albeit the subject was never mentioned between them: for soon +after their arrival, Mary, with Dorothy's consent, had told her of all +that related to the young Englishman. + +At first the old lady was filled with righteous indignation. But when +she came to understand and realize how it was with Dorothy's own +feelings, she accepted the result with the philosophy that was a part +of her sweet nature,--even smiling to herself when she thought of the +young man's rare audacity. + +She had, despite her white hairs, a spice of romance yet left in her +heart. And perhaps the memory of her own elopement, in the face of her +parents' prohibition, went far toward softening her feeling in favor of +the daring offender. + +But she shook her head sadly as she thought of her own boy, the secret +of whose heart she had long suspected, although he had not given her +his confidence; and her eyes moistened as she realized the downfall of +the cherished castle she had been building for him, with this girl--of +her own choosing--for his wife. + +Late one September day, Johnnie Strings brought word to Dorothy that +Aunt Penine lay at death's door, and was craving to see her. + +It was decided that she had better accede to her aunt's request, and +that Mary should go with her; and so, in pursuance of arrangements made +by the pedler, they started on horseback the following morning, with +that wary individual as escort, and rode directly to a certain tavern +just inside the American lines, and known as "The Gray Horse Inn," +where they procured a conveyance to carry them the remainder of the +journey. + +Strings himself did not deem it wise to venture nearer than this to +Boston, as he was expected to hold himself in readiness at the inn to +receive some papers to be delivered to the Commander-in-Chief at +Cambridge. + +It was late in the afternoon when the two girls, after having seen Aunt +Penine and made peace with her, hurried down the street toward the +place where their carriage was awaiting them. + +The day was gray, with clouds gathering slowly, when they had set out +on foot from this point for their visit to Aunt Penine, their driver +having considered it better that he should wait for them near the house +of an acquaintance, whose true sentiments were known to only a few of +his countrymen. And now, as they returned, a strong east-wind was +making mournful soughings in the trees, and a downpour of rain seemed +imminent from the solidly massed clouds overhead. + +As they came down the steps of the house, Mary noticed a man across the +street, lounging under the elms, as though awaiting some one. His tall +figure was well wrapped in a riding-cloak, whose folds he held in a way +to conceal his lower features, while his hat, slouched over his +forehead, made it still more difficult to obtain a clear view of his +face. + +"Look at that man over there," she said nervously, clutching Dorothy's +arm. + +"Yes, I see," Dorothy replied with no show of interest, as they started +down the street. "What of him?" + +She was paying little heed to anything about her, for the meeting with +Aunt Penine had aroused to new and acute paining the sense of her own +great loss. + +This, thanks to the diversion afforded by her new surroundings, had +begun to be a little dulled; for when one is young it is no easy matter +for any sorrow, however heavy, to utterly crush out all the light and +hope. + +Then, too, it had seemed to Dorothy a most marvellous thing to see Aunt +Penine so softened and repentant. And this of itself served to +increase the homesick longing the very sight of her had brought to the +girl,--a craving for the happy days of the dear old home, when a united +family gathered under its roof, with no war-clouds darkening their +hearts. + +"I am sure he is the same man I noticed walking after us when we came; +and if so, why has he been standing there all this time?" + +Mary now spoke excitedly, and as though alarmed, glancing now and then +over her shoulder at the cause of her fears. + +"He is probably attending to his own affairs, and giving no thought to +ours," Dorothy answered, without looking in the stranger's direction. +"If not, what then? It will be daylight for two hours to come, and in +five minutes we will be where the man is waiting for us." + +Mary said nothing more, but ventured to steal a parting glance as they +turned the corner of the street; and she was much disconcerted to see +the man still appearing to follow them. + +They soon reached their destination and found the vehicle waiting. A +minute more and they were seated, the driver gathered the reins, and +his horses set off at a pace bespeaking their impatience to return to +their stalls at the Gray Horse Inn. + +The rain held back until they drew up in front of the entrance. Indeed +it seemed as if the storm had waited for the girls to reach shelter, +for no sooner were they inside the house than it let go with a sudden +burst, doubtless setting in for an "all-nighter," as Johnnie Strings +averred when he met them at the door. + +It was impossible for them to continue their journey on horseback that +night, and the landlord refused to send the carriage to Dorchester, by +reason of all his horses being needed early the following morning to +carry some supplies to the outposts. And so, yielding to the +inevitable, Mary and Dorothy decided to pass the night at the inn, +letting Johnnie Strings, who cared nothing for the storm, go on and +explain matters to Mistress Knollys. + +The Gray Horse Inn was an old building, whose precise age none could +tell. The street whereon it stood was little more than a lane, leading +off the main thoroughfare to Boston; and a person outside could easily +glance through the lower windows, when these were unshuttered, as no +shrubbery veiled them. Inside it was cheery and well-kept, and its +rambling style of construction afforded accommodation for a surprising +number of guests. + +Back of the building extended a cornfield, which ended in a tract of +woodland, while upon its townward side was a sturdy growth of oak and +nut trees, encircling the cornfield, and running quite to the line of +the woods beyond. + +Mistress Trask, the landlady, gave the two girls a small parlor, +communicating with a sleeping-room; and here their supper was served. + +As the buxom dame brought in the well-filled tray, a loud, aggressive +voice came through the open door, evidently from the taproom, where a +fire blazing on the hearth--although the night was barely cold--tempted +the wayfarers to congregate. + +"An' I tell ye," said the unseen speaker, "that Boston is the heart an' +mouth o' the colonies. The wind that blows from Boston will set every +weathercock from New Hampshire to Georgia." + +A silence followed, suggestive of no one caring to dispute the +assertion. + +Mistress Trask, noting Mary's expression of annoyance and her glance +toward the door, made haste to close it. Then she explained, as she +began setting the food upon the table: "That's only farmer Gilbert. +He's a decent enough body when sober, but once he gets a bit o' liquor +under his waistcoat, it seems to fly straight to his brains and addle +'em. And then he do seem fairly grieving for a fisticuff with all +creation." + +"I surely trust he will make no such disturbance while we are in the +house," Mary said uneasily. + +"Never ye have any fear, dearie," replied the good woman. She was an +old acquaintance of Johnnie Strings, and he had duly impressed her as +to the high standing of the guests he left in her charge. + +"Never ye fear," she repeated. "The sight of a real lady is sure to be +a check on his tongue an' manners; an' I'll see to it that he knows who +be in this room. 'T is true sorry I am to have to put ye on this lower +floor; but ye see, we've strict orders to keep the whole o' the upper +floor for some gentry who will be here by late evening." + +Then bending her head quickly, she whispered with great impressiveness, +"Who, think ye, we expect?" + +"I have no idea," was Mary's indifferent answer. She had scarcely +heard the question, for wondering what it might be that Dorothy was +thinking about as she stood by the window, from which she had drawn +away the curtain. + +Certain it was that the girl could distinguish nothing in the pitchy +darkness outside, even if she could see through the rain-dashed panes, +that looked as if encrusted with glass beads. + +Mistress Trask's information--whispered, like her question, as if she +feared the furniture might hear her words--caused Mary to sit very +erect, with kindling eyes and indrawn breath. + +"Hush-h," warned the landlady, with a broad smile of delight at the +surprise she had aroused. "Hush-h; we was ordered on no account to let +it get out." + +"Dot, did you hear what she said?" Mary asked, when the two, left to +themselves, sat down to the tempting supper. + +Dorothy shook her head, wondering the while at Mary's agitation. + +"She said," and Mary lowered her own voice, "that the +Commander-in-Chief is to arrive here soon, and that he will stop here +all night, as there is to be a meeting of some sort with many of his +principal officers." + +"General Washington!" A new light came to Dorothy's face, kindling a +rush of color in her cheeks, and sending a glitter from her eyes that +routed all their sad abstraction. + +Mary nodded. + +"I wish we could see him," said Dorothy. "Oh--I must get a peep at +him." + +"We will certainly try to see him," Mary agreed, adding eagerly, "And +oh, Dot--mayhap Jack will be of them." + +"And perhaps Hugh," Dorothy said impulsively. Then quickly, as she saw +the sudden change in Mary's face, "Whatever is the matter with Hugh +Knollys, I wonder? He has not been to see his mother since we went to +stop with her; and I have noticed that whenever his name is mentioned, +you and Jack--and even his mother--look oddly. Has he done anything +amiss?" + +"Nothing, indeed, that I know of." And Mary lifted her cup of tea so +that it hid her eyes for the moment. + +"I have wished so often that he would come--I should like to see him +once more. How long--how very long it seems since he left us last +fall!" Dorothy sighed; and Mary knew it was not for Hugh, but because +of all that had happened since his going. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII + +"Oh, Mary, which one of them do you suppose is he?" whispered Dorothy, +as the two girls hung over the balustrade of the upper hall, watching +the figures entering through the outer door, all of them so muffled in +storm-cloaks as to look precisely alike, save as to height. + +The landlord, with much obsequious bustling, had hastened forward to +meet them. His wife was beside him, and she had just summoned a +servant to assist in taking the wet wrappings from the new arrivals as +she stood courtesying before them. + +"The rooms be aired, lighted, and fires made, as ordered, sir," Trask +was saying. + +In one hand he held aloft a clumsy brass candlestick holding three +lighted candles, while the other hand was placed over his heart, as if +that member needed to be repressed under the well-filled proportions of +his ample waistcoat; and he was bowing with great servility before a +figure whose stature far exceeded that of the other new-comers, but +whose face, hidden by his hat, could not be seen by the eager onlookers +at the top of the stairs. + +"Oh, Dot, they are coming straight up here," Mary gasped; and both +girls sprang back in dismay at sight of the procession beginning to +file up the stairway, preceded by the landlord, who now carried a +candlestick in either hand. + +Scarcely knowing what they were doing, and intent solely upon +concealing themselves, they darted through the doorway of the nearest +room, which was lighted only by a cheery wood fire. + +"They will surely see us as they go by," whispered Mary, for, once +inside, they saw that the door by which they had entered was in the +extreme corner of the room, rendering the entire interior visible to a +passer-by. + +"Let us shut the door," Dorothy suggested. + +But Mary said quickly, "No, that will never do. The landlord may have +left it open, and would notice it being closed." + +It had not occurred to them that all this was probably on account of +the room being one of those assigned to the new guests, for Mary had +given but slight heed to what Mistress Trask said as to the entire +upper floor being taken, and Dorothy had heard naught of the matter +beyond what Mary told her. + +"Here is another room," said the younger girl joyfully, for her alert +eyes had spied a half-closed door communicating with an inner and dark +apartment. + +It took them only a moment to gain this place of refuge and shut the +door; then, standing close to it, they listened for any sound to +indicate the passage of the procession down the hall, and so leave them +an opportunity to return unobserved to their own apartments. + +"I wish we had never done so foolish a thing," Mary said in a low +voice. She was breathing rapidly, and trembling from agitation. + +"So do I--as it is," was Dorothy's hurried answer. "But if I only +could have seen him, so as to know him, I should not care." + +The next minute they were awakened to new dismay by the sound of heavy +footsteps entering the outer room. Then they heard the landlord say, +"This is the room, your Excellency; I trust it be such as to suit you." + +A calm, full-toned voice replied: "Thank you, landlord; everything +seems quite as it should be. The other gentlemen will be here shortly; +show them up at once, when they arrive." + +"Yes, sir--certainly, sir," Trask replied. "This is the bedroom, sir." +And the sound of his heavy feet approaching the door caused still +greater terror to the trembling girls. + +The latch was actually lifted, when the other voice arrested any +farther movement by saying with a note of impatience: "Yes, yes--very +well, landlord. We should like supper as speedily as it can be served, +and as there will be many of us, we will have it downstairs." + +Trask seemed now to take his leave, for they heard the outer door +close. Then the same voice, mellow and dignified as at first, came to +them again. + +"No doubt, Dalton, they have been detained by the storm." + +"Faith, sir, 't is little such a man as Glover cares for water," +replied another voice, more jovial and evidently younger; "although, to +be sure, he may prefer the water to be salt, being more used to that +flavor." + +Mary pulled Dorothy by the arm. + +"We must walk straight out of here," she whispered, "this very minute. +There is nothing else for us to do." + +"Well,--go on." The words came brokenly from the younger girl's lips, +for her heart was beating in a way to make her actually dizzy. + +Then, as Mary hesitated, Dorothy's sturdy self-reliance returned; and +pushing the door wide open, she passed in front of her sister-in-law +and stepped forth into the presence of four officers, wearing the +uniform of the Continental army. + +Three of them were wandering about the room, as though awaiting the +orders of the fourth,--a very tall man, of massive frame, seated by a +table. + +He was examining a sealed packet, and seemed about to open it under the +light of the candles, but looked up quickly as the childish figure came +and stood directly in front of him. Then, as his large gray-blue eyes +glanced at the taller one, he arose to his feet, with the unopened +packet in his hand. + +The other officers had come to a standstill, as though rooted, in +various parts of the room, and stood staring open-mouthed at the fair +intruders,--a very evident admiration soon taking the place of their +amazement. + +Their commander now addressed the two girls, looking down from his +great height upon the faces wherein embarrassment and veneration seemed +hopelessly mingled. + +"Well, ladies," he demanded,--his words and manner, albeit perfectly +respectful and courteous, tinged with sternness--"what is the meaning +of this?" + +They both knew themselves to be in the presence of the great man whom +they had desired so much to look upon, and they could see nothing in +the room but the impressive figure now facing them with such an air of +dignity and command. + +There was about him the very atmosphere of self-nobility, +self-reliance; and with it that supreme control which, being the ruler +of his own nature, enabled him to govern all the more surely those +about him. The steady gaze of the unusually large eyes, every line of +the firm mouth and chin, bespoke a well-disciplined mind, and the keen +intuitions of a born leader of men. + +Mary was dumb from mortification, not unmixed with actual fear, for she +could see no easy way of extricating themselves from their dilemma; but +Dorothy plucked up heart of grace, and answered, as she dropped a +little courtesy, "It is only that we wanted to see you, sir." + +There was a spontaneous laugh from the three officers; but Washington +checked it by turning to them with a frown. + +And yet there was a faint smile touching the corners of his own lips, +relaxing their severity, as he looked down at the girl and asked, in +the quizzing tone he might have used toward a child, "Well, little one, +now that you have seen me, what will you?" + +"That you will pardon us, sir," Mary answered instantly, as she moved +forward to Dorothy's side. Washington bent his head graciously to her. +But his smiling eyes went back to the younger girl's face, although his +words were now in reply to Mary. + +"There is surely little to pardon. Rather let me thank you that I am +held in such esteem, and thought deserving of so much consideration." +Then he added with a glance that embraced them both, "May I know your +names?" + +"This is my sister, Dorothy Devereux, of Marblehead; and I am Mary +Broughton Devereux, wife of the officer of that name in Colonel +Glover's regiment, now stationed at Cambridge." + +Her composure had fully returned, and she spoke with perfect +freedom--indeed with a touch of pride--as she looked up fearlessly into +Washington's face. + +"Aye;" and now his look and voice showed naught but cordiality. "I am +happy, ladies, to make your acquaintance. I happen to know your +husband, Mistress Devereux, for my present headquarters at Cambridge +are in the house formerly occupied by Colonel Glover and his +officers.[1] I had also a slight acquaintance with your father-in-law." + + +[1] This mansion was afterwards the home of Longfellow. + + +"Oh, sir--you say that you knew my father?" + +The lines of his face relaxed still more as he regarded the little +figure standing before him, her hands clasped impulsively, and the +great dark eyes, now glittering with tears, raised in a worshipful gaze +more eagerly questioning than was even the sweet voice. + +"Aye, child, I knew him. We met at the house of your townsman, Colonel +Lee." + +"He is--perhaps you do not know--my father died this spring." And +crystal drops welled from the big eyes and hung suspended on the +curling lashes. + +"Aye, my dear child," and a note of the tenderest sympathy came to the +deep voice, "so I heard at the time. God grant we may all be as well +prepared as was your good father, when the end shall come." + +There was a pause, filled by the crackling of the fire, whose gleams +made a bright sparkle of the drops on Dorothy's swart lashes before she +could wipe them away. The other officers were now exchanging +significant glances, and looking at the girl with much interest. + +The silence was broken by Mary, who was secretly burning to escape. +She had waited until she met Washington's eyes; then, as he glanced at +her, she made a deep courtesy and said, "And now, sir, if you please, +we will retire to our own apartments below stairs." + +"Wait but a moment," he replied. His eyes had gone back to Dorothy, +who was standing with clasped hands, looking into the fire, and +forgetful of all else than the sorrow his words had awakened within her +heart. "Are you abiding under this roof, Mistress Devereux?" + +"Only for this one night, sir," Mary answered. "We are stopping at +Dorchester, with our old friend Mistress Knollys, and have been toward +Boston to see a dying relative. We were returning from there when the +storm overtook us, and are obliged to remain here until to-morrow. We +shall set out again in the morning, sir." + +"Not alone, surely?" he said with a slight frown. "It is scarce +prudent for you two young ladies to be travelling these roads, at such +a time as this, without escort." + +"We had an escort, sir, but he went on to Dorchester, to assure +Mistress Knollys of our safety. He will return in the morning, or else +send some one for us." + +"That is more as it should be," Washington said with an approving nod. +"And in case no one comes for you, I myself will take pleasure in +seeing that you are provided with a suitable escort." + +Mary courtesied once more, and both girls murmured their thanks. + +The sad look had departed from Dorothy's face as she now stood watching +the great man whom she might never have the opportunity of beholding +again; and while so engaged, it happened that one of the buttons of his +coat came directly opposite her small nose. + +At first she looked at it without any interest,--almost mechanically. +Then she was overcome by a sudden intense desire to possess it as a +souvenir, to be treasured for all time to come. + +The feeling grew stronger each moment, and there is no saying to what +lengths her childish impulsiveness might have spurred her, had it not +been for the keen looks bent upon her by the officers at the other side +of the room. + +Washington seemed to be conscious of this, for his eyes took a curious +expression as he said, looking down into the girl's earnest face, "I am +tempted to ask, little one, what great subject makes your eyes so +solemn." + +He spoke more than half jestingly, and it was apparent that he judged +her to be much younger than her actual years, because of her diminutive +stature and childish appearance. + +"I was wishing, sir, that you would give me something to remember you +by," was her frank answer; "that is,"--hesitating a little--"I was +wishing I could have something to keep all my life." + +She stopped, scarcely knowing how to express herself, while Mary stared +at her with manifest disapproval. + +"I understand, my child," Washington said, now looking at her more +gravely. + +He paused, and seemed to be considering the matter. Then he laid his +hand lightly upon the girl's shoulder, much in the way a father would +have done. + +"I shall take pleasure, little one, in giving you something by which to +remember me." + +Resuming his seat by the table, he took up the packet he was examining +when they interrupted him a few minutes before. + +He now opened it hastily, and a number of papers dropped out. + +One of these he picked up, and tore from it a strip, which he looked at +carefully, as though to be certain it was clear of writing; then, +dipping a quill into the ink, he wrote a few words upon it. + +"Take this, my child," he said, extending it to her, "and should you +ever be in need of any service within my power to render, you have but +to send this slip of paper, to remind me that I have promised to assist +you." + +Dorothy stood speechless, well-nigh bewildered, her eyes fixed upon his +face, now alight with an aspect almost paternal. + +She said nothing, did not even thank him; but taking the paper, she +pressed her lips to the hand that proffered it, and then, turning +quickly, sped from the room. + +"We are most honored, sir--you are very kind," said Mary, who felt it +incumbent upon her to express their gratitude in more formal fashion +than Dorothy had adopted. + +Washington was looking at the door through which the girl had +disappeared, but now he turned and bowed courteously. + +"Much of the obligation is my own," he replied with courtly gallantry. +Then his manner changed as he said: "Your sister is a sweet little +maid,--it is most sad that she should have lost her father. He was, as +is his son, a worthy and stanch patriot. These are troublous times, +Mistress Devereux, and one so young and charming as she may come to +feel the need of a protector; although, from all I have seen of her +brother--your husband--it might well be supposed my own poor services +would never be called into use." + +"I thank you, sir; and I am sure Dorothy does the same--and both of us +with all our hearts." And Mary ventured to extend her hand. + +Washington arose from his chair, and his large, strong fingers closed +about her own slender ones in a firm clasp, which she felt still +tingling in their tips when she found Dorothy waiting for her at the +head of the stairs. + +"Oh, Mary," she burst out, looking as though something were amiss, "I +am glad you are come. I've been so affrighted." + +Then, as they started down the stairs, she told how a +dreadful-appearing man had come out of the tap-room, and stood glaring +at her, as he demanded fiercely to know her business. + +"I was so scared that I could not speak, and I did not dare go back +into the room. I am sure the man was full of drink." + +"Where is he? I see no one." And Mary craned her neck to look over +the rail into the hall below. + +"He went back into the taproom when he found I would not answer him." + +They had now reached the foot of the staircase; and as though waiting +for the clicking of their high heels on the oaken floor, the taproom +door opened suddenly, and a great hulking fellow, with a red face, +topped by a wild shock of black hair, came staggering against them. + +Both girls cried out, and started to fly up the stairs. But they were +reassured by the advent of Mistress Trask, who chanced to be coming +down the hall, and who spoke sharply to the man, bidding him have a +care how he ran into ladies. + +"'T is only Farmer Gilbert," she said, turning to her frightened +guests, and seeming surprised to find them in that part of the house. +"There's no cause to be alarmed, my pretties." + +Mary glanced with disgust at the drunkard, who was now attempting a +maudlin apology. But she said nothing, either to him or to the +landlady, and went her way with Dorothy. + +No sooner had they closed the door of their own apartments than they +hurried to the light and examined the precious slip of paper. + +It read: "A solemn promise given to Mistress Dorothy Devereux, of +Marblehead. G. Washington." + +"Oh, Dot," Mary exclaimed, "I never thought,--we have told him an +untruth!" + +Dorothy was still looking at the paper, but at Mary's alarming words +she raised her eyes in wonder. + +"You are not Mistress Dorothy Devereux, but Mistress--" + +"Sh-h!" cried Dot, putting her hand quickly over Mary's lips. Then +they looked at one another and laughed, but uneasily. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIX + +Neither of the girls found much rest during the night, owing to the +strangeness of their surroundings and the exciting experiences that had +come to them. In addition to this, their wakefulness was increased by +the noise of the gale outside. + +The rain had ceased, but the wind at times attained such violence as to +rattle the casements like the jarring of a cannonade. Then its force +would lessen, and it would moan about the gables and down the chimneys +with a sound as though the patriots already fallen might be lamenting +the long-continued siege of Boston. + +With these deeper tones there would come loud shrieks, like the +laughter of fiends, as if the Prince of Darkness and his legions were +making merry over the impending downfall of goodly customs, uprooted by +slaughter and bloodshed. + +During the earlier part of the night there was some unusually loud +talking outside, seeming to indicate a new excitement. + +This caused the girls fresh alarm; but the matter was explained by the +landlady, when she brought their breakfast in the morning. + +A redcoat had been caught in the cornfield back of the house, and later +on, his horse was found fastened in the woods near by. + +When brought, as he was at once, before the Commander-in-Chief, the +prisoner had denied indignantly the imputation of being a spy. Yet he +had refused stubbornly to explain the reason for his being outside his +own lines, and so close to the spot where a conference was being held +between Washington and his officers. + +He wore the British uniform, but this was concealed by an ordinary +riding-cloak, and on his head was a civilian's hat. + +"So," said the landlady, after telling the story, "if he be no spy, 't +will be a hard matter for him to prove it, with everything lookin' so +black. An', oh, mistress, he's as handsome as a picter, an' don't look +to be twenty-five. It do seem a mortal pity that he must hang." + +"Hang!" repeated Dorothy, with horror. "Why must he hang?" + +"Why, surely ye know, mistress," the woman explained, "in war-times a +spy be always hanged." + +"Is it not dreadful--and will they hang him?" Mary asked with a +shudder, staring into the face of the voluble landlady, who was now +arranging the dishes upon the table. + +"So the talk goes 'mongst the men. They had much ado with Farmer +Gilbert, who was for takin' the young man an' hangin' him there an' +then. But he had to be brought afore General Washington himself. An' +now he's locked up in one o' the upper rooms, with Tommy Macklin pacin' +up an' down afore the door, like he was measurin' the hall for a new +carpet, 'stead o' wearin' out the strip I wove with my own hands, out +o' rags." + +Dorothy, who sat facing Mary, her elbows on the table, and her chin +resting in her small palms, now drew the landlady's attention by +inquiring if she knew the prisoner's name. + +"Yes,--I did get to hear it when General Washington asked him; for, to +say truth, I was listenin' outside the door. He answered up fair +enough, an' spoke it like there was naught to be ashamed of in the +matter, neither. 'T was Captain Southorn." + +She heard a half-choked gasp from Dorothy's lips, and saw the look that +came to Mary's face as her eyes turned like a flash toward the younger +girl. + +"Is it possible he can be known to ye?" she asked quickly. + +"Yes,--I think we met him once," Mary answered falteringly. "That is, +we met a young man of the same name. But he was not a captain--only a +cornet of dragoons." + +"Still, it is like to be the same man," the landlady said rather +insistingly, as though hoping that such was the fact. "Cornets grow +quick to be captains in these woful days, if they be but brave, which +surely this young man is, unless his looks belie him." + +Neither of the girls had paid any attention to her, but sat motionless, +each with her eyes riveted upon the other's face, as if seeking to read +her thoughts. + +But now they both looked at Mistress Trask, whose voice had lost its +speculative tone, and was filled with intense earnestness. + +"Oh, mistress," she was saying, still addressing Mary, "mayhap he be +the same man ye've known. An' if this be so, I do beg ye to try what +prayin' the favor of his pardon from Washington will do. 'T is a foul +death--to be hanged; an' such as he ought surely to die in their beds, +unless they come to die in battle. The General be still here, 'though +Colonel Glover an' many o' the other officers left early this mornin'. +If they should take the young man out an' hang him, I'd never 'bide +here another day. Will ye not go, mistress, an' try to save his life?" + +Before Mary could reply, Dorothy spoke up. + +"I will go," she said quietly, taking her elbows from the table, and +with an expression in her eyes such as Mary never saw there before. + +"Oh, do, mistress!" the landlady exclaimed eagerly, looking at the girl +with admiration. "Pray do, an' God will bless ye for it." + +But Mary protested, although weakly, and feeling that she had but +little hope of success. + +"No, Dot,--no," she said. "You must not,--it would never do. And then +it might not be the same one, after all." + +But her own belief contradicted her words, and sounded in her voice +even as she uttered them. She was certain it was he who had appeared +to be watching them when they came from Aunt Penine; and he had +doubtless followed them to the tavern. + +Dorothy made no reply until she drained a glass of milk the landlady +filled for her; then she arose from the table. + +"I am going," she said, as calmly as before. "Please," seeing that +Mary was about to renew her objections, "say no more about it. I am +going--and I prefer to go alone." + +But Mary could not restrain herself. + +"Oh Dot," she asked tremulously, "do you dare do such a thing?" + +"Yes, I dare do it, because I must,--because there is nothing else for +me to do." + +"Let her go, mistress," urged the landlady; "surely there be naught to +fear for her." Then she said confidently, as Dorothy passed through +the door and out into the hall: "She be that young an' tender that no +one would harm her,--least of all, General Washington. No doubt she'll +be just the one to touch his heart with her pleadin' for the young man. +No one would have the heart to say no to her, she be so little an' +sweet." + +Mary felt her own helplessness to turn Dorothy from her purpose. +Indeed she did not dare to say, even to herself, that it was not the +girl's solemn duty to do as she had proposed. + +And so she sat silent, with clasped hands, musing over all these +things, while Mistress Trask removed the dishes. And while she was +doing this, the landlady told for the first time--the excitement having +driven it from her mind--how Johnnie Strings had appeared at an early +hour, and bade her say that he was forced to go across country to carry +a despatch, but would return by noon, to escort the two girls to +Dorchester. + +Dorothy took her way up the stairs toward the room above. All the +girlishness within her was now dead, and the expression in her pale +face was that of a woman--and one whose heart was wrung by bitter +sorrow. + +The door was closed, and in front of it a man was seated. A musket lay +across his knees, and his head was sunk on his breast as if he were +buried in his own meditations. But as Dorothy drew near, he looked up, +and she saw that it was none other than Fisherman Doak. + +"Mistress Dorothy!" he gasped, staring open-mouthed at her white face +as though doubtful of her being a reality. + +"Yes," she said quickly, "and I am glad it is you, Doak." + +"Sweet little mistress," he exclaimed, amazement showing in every +lineament of his honest visage, "in Heaven's name, whatever be ye doin' +here?" + +"Never mind, Doak," she answered, "what I am doing here. I wish to +see--to speak with General Washington, and at once." + +"You--you?" he stammered, rising slowly to his feet, and shaking +himself in the effort to collect his scattered wits. + +"Yes," she said impatiently. "You are on guard here--he knows you are +outside his door?" + +"Why, yes, mistress--o' course. I'm to be here in case he needs aught, +as well as to keep folk out. He be alone, an' has ordered thet he's +not to be disturbed." + +"If he is alone," and her tone expressed relief, "so much the better +for me. I must have speech with him this very minute." + +Doak opened his mouth in remonstrance, but she would not permit him to +speak. + +"Do you hear?" she demanded. "I must see him this minute. Go and tell +him so; and tell him it is upon a matter of life and death." + +He said nothing more, but, looking more dazed than ever, turned and +rapped on the door. + +A voice whose deep tones had not yet left Dorothy's ears gave +permission to enter, and Doak, after bidding her to stop where she was, +went into the room. + +For a second Dorothy stood hesitating. Then a look of fixed resolution +came to her face, and before the door could close after the +fisherman-soldier, she stepped forward and followed him. + +Washington was--as when she intruded upon him before--seated at a +table. But now he was writing; and as the two entered the room, he +looked up as though annoyed at the interruption. + +But Dorothy, pushing Doak aside, advanced with an impetuosity that gave +no opportunity for questioning or reproof, and took away all need of +explanation from the astonished guardian of the great man's privacy. + +"You gave me this, sir--last night," she said, holding out the paper, +and speaking in the same fearless, trusting manner she would have +adopted toward her own father, "and you will surely remember what you +promised." + +As she came forward, Washington, seeing who it was, laid down his pen, +and his face took the expression it had borne when he was talking with +her the evening before. There was a tender, a welcoming light in his +eyes, as though her coming were a pleasure,--as if it brought relief +from the contemplation of the grave responsibilities resting upon him. + +He arose from his chair, and taking the paper from her hand, laid it +upon the table. Then he turned to her again and said smilingly, "My +dear child, the promise was surely of small worth if I could forget it +so soon after it was given." + +But there was no smile upon the face into which he was looking, and its +earnestness seemed now to bring to him the conviction that the girl had +come upon no trifling matter. + +He bade Doak resume his post outside the door, and to permit no one to +enter, howsoever important the business might be. Then, when the +fisherman had gone, he invited Dorothy to be seated, and asked her to +tell him the object of her coming. + +He sat down again by the table, but she remained standing, and now came +close to him, her clasped hands and pleading eyes fully as beseeching +as the words in which she framed her petition. + +"Oh, sir--I have come to beg that you will not hang the English officer +whom I hear you suspect of being a spy." + +Washington started in surprise; a stern light gathered in his eyes, and +he looked as though illy pleased. + +Dorothy was quick to see this, and felt that her only hope of success +lay in telling him the entire truth. + +This she did, confiding in him as freely and fully as though she were +his daughter. + +When she ended, he sat for a time as if pondering over her story, and +the request to which it was the sequel. He had not interrupted her by +so much as a single word, but his eyes had been fixed upon her face +with an intensity that softened as she went on, in her own impulsive +way, to tell him of her troubles. + +Presently he said: "It is truly a sad tangle, my child,--one scarce +proper to think any gentleman would seek to bring into your young life. +But I am not yet old enough to hold that we should judge hot-headed +youth with too great severity. Indeed," the grave lines of his face +relaxing a little, "in this case I can see that the young man had +strong temptation to forget himself, and to do as he did." + +He paused and looked at her keenly, as if searching for the answer to a +question seeking solution in his own mind. + +She stood silently waiting, and he continued: "First of all, I must +know of a certainty as to one matter, in order that I may act with +discretion. My child," and he took one of her hands in his own, "do +not fear to show me your heart. Show it to me as you would to your own +dear father, were he, rather than I, asking you. Tell me--do you love +this man who is really your husband?" + +"Yes, sir," she answered, with no sign of hesitancy, as she lifted her +head and looked at him through the tears his words had brought to her +eyes, "I do love him." + +Washington smiled, as if relieved of a perplexing problem. + +"This brings about a very different order of affairs," he said in a way +that made her heart bound with hope. "Now it may be possible that this +captain is not your Cornet Southorn, although I think there is small +room for doubt in the matter. But, in order to solve the question, I +will have him brought here. Do you, my child, conceal yourself behind +the curtains of that window; and if he proves to be the officer of whom +we have been speaking, you have but to show yourself to assure me of +the fact. If not, then remain in hiding; and after putting a few +questions to him, I will have him taken back to his room." + +Doak was despatched to carry out the order, while Dorothy hid herself +in the curtains,--trembling with agitation when the sound of footsteps +was heard again outside the door. + +The fisherman entered with the prisoner, and Dorothy, looking through +the slightly parted drapery, saw the olive face and purple-blue eyes of +the man she loved. + +His long boots were splashed with the mire of the highway, his uniform +showed traces of the struggle of the night before, and his curly hair +was dishevelled. + +More than this, his haggard face and dark-circled eyes gave proof of a +sleepless and anxious night. + +But as he came into the room he drew himself erect, and met +unflinchingly the stern eyes of the man in whose hands lay his fate. + +The door had no sooner closed upon Doak's retreating figure than +Dorothy stepped from behind the curtains. + +The young man gave a violent start, and the arms that had been folded +across his chest fell to his sides, as he uttered her name,--at the +same time taking a step toward her. Then he came to a standstill, and +passed his hand over his eyes, as if to clear them of something that +impeded his vision. + +And there was reason for this, as Dorothy did not speak, and stood +motionless, her hands clasped in front of her, while she looked at him +with an expression he seemed unable to define. + +Washington's face had grown less severe as he noted all this; and while +the two still remained gazing at one another, his voice broke the +silence. + +"The cause of your presence in this neighborhood, Captain Southorn, +which your gallantry forbade you to explain, even in the face of an +ignominious death, has been revealed to me by one whose truth and +fidelity no human being should know better than yourself. She has told +me that which leads me to take upon myself the responsibility of +clearing you from the very grave suspicions aroused by your action of +last night, and of holding you simply as a prisoner of war. For all +this, you have Mistress Dorothy to thank--for your life and your +restored honor." + +No pen can describe the emotions of the two listeners as they heard +these words, nor could any pencil portray the reflection of these +emotions upon their faces. + +Southorn's expression was that of thankfulness, mingled with +amazement,--doubt, as though he feared the treachery of his own senses, +while Dorothy's face became all aglow with delight and triumph at her +success. + +The young man stepped impetuously toward Washington, and was about to +speak, but the latter raised his hand. + +"You, sir, as an officer of the King," he said gravely, "know the +weight of such a debt as this, and no words of mine can add to the +sense of your obligation to her. This being so," and he glanced from +one to the other of them, while the suggestion of a smile relieved the +sternness of his face, "I will leave you with her for a short time, in +order that you may express your gratitude in fitting terms, while I +consider what course is best for me to pursue in carrying out the +purpose I have in view." + +With this he arose from his chair, and bowing to them, withdrew to the +inner room, closing the door after him. + +For a single moment there was silence between the two he had left +alone, and no one could now accuse Dorothy of any lack of color in her +cheeks. + +"Dorothy--sweetheart, what does all this mean?" + +The young man spoke in almost a whisper, looking at her as though she +were a vision, a part of some strange dream. His voice faltered, and +his eyes moved restlessly as he came toward her, walking slowly and +uncertainly. + +But Dorothy, her wonted self-possession and courage now fully restored, +did not wait for him to come to her. She advanced smilingly, her eyes +alight with happiness, and laid both her hands within his. + +Then, while they stood face to face, she told him hurriedly of what she +had done. + +While she was speaking, he looked at her in that same queer way, his +eyes wandering over her face and figure, while now and again he pressed +her little soft hands, as though to gain through them still greater +assurance of the blessed reality. + +But when she finished, his eyes ceased their roaming, and became fixed +upon her beaming face. + +"My darling," he said slowly, "do you realize the full measure of what +you have done for me? Do you know that you not only have given me +life, but have saved me from that which to a soldier is more terrible +than the torments of hell itself,--the disgrace of being hanged as a +spy?" + +His voice broke, and a spasm of pain shot across his face. Then he +exclaimed in a tone filled with self-condemnation, "And this you have +done for the man who forced his love upon you,--who married you by a +trick--aye, by violence; the man who--" + +She drew one hand away from his grasp and put it firmly against his +lips. + +"Stop!" she commanded, with all her natural imperiousness. "I'll +listen to no more talk such as that. Had you not married me in the way +you did, 't is not likely you would have wed me at all, for I have come +to know that I am no girl to be won by soft speeches, and sighs, and +tears." + +"What!" he cried, not believing his ears. "Can it be possible--" + +He had no need to finish the question, for her arms stole up and went +around his neck, and her blushing face was hidden over his heart. + +"My love--my wife--can it be that you love me at last?" + +"At last!" She lifted her head and looked into his eyes. "I believe I +have loved you from the very first--since the time you opened your eyes +when I held your head that day on the rocks. I loved you when you +kissed me, the time we met in the wood, and I loved you when we stood +before Parson Weeks; and--I'll love you all my life." + +He drew her to him with a force almost rough in its fierceness, and +covered her face with kisses. + +"God be praised for those words!" he exclaimed. Then he sighed deeply. + +"I have been such a miserable dog, sweetheart, ever since the night I +left Marblehead. I was hoping until then to receive some little word +bidding me come to you,--to come and tell your people the truth, and +face their opinion and anger, such as I deserved for what I had done. +But after I left you that night, I lost all hope, and prayed only that +a bullet might set me free from my self-reproaches and misery." + +"Oh--you wicked--" Dorothy began; but he silenced her with a kiss. + +"I have just received tidings of my father's illness, and his wish for +my return," he continued, "and was thinking of setting sail for home, +when my eyes were blessed with sight of you yesterday, and I was +dragged out here by a force I was unable to resist. I hoped to have +speech with you somehow, if only that I might implore your forgiveness +before I went away." + +"And now you know there is naught to forgive," she said, smiling up +into his face. + +Then she drew herself a little away from him, and taking hold of the +collar of his red coat as though to detain him, added softly, "But +you'll not go now, will you?" + +He laughed exultingly; but his face became sad again as he stroked the +ripples of curling hair clustering about her forehead. + +"It would seem, sweetheart," he said, "as if that might be the wisest +course for me to pursue; for how can I find heart to take up arms +against the country and people--aye, against the very kindred--of my +own wife?" + +A look of sorrowing dread swept all the light from Dorothy's face; but +the brightness returned somewhat as he said more cheerily: "Well, well, +my little one, it is waste of time to talk of such matters now, for you +see I am not free to go anywhere just at this present. 'Sufficient for +the day,' you know, 'is the evil thereof;' and surely we have evil to +fear, even yet. But nothing can daunt me now--now that my honor is +cleared; and that, too, by such an unlooked-for ray of light from +Heaven, and with it the knowledge that you love me, and dared so +bravely to save my life." + +The door-knob was now rattled with a warning significance, and the two +sprang away from each other as General Washington slowly entered the +room. + +His face bore an odd expression, and one that was pleasant to look +upon, as he glanced from Dorothy to her husband. Then his eyes +returned to the girl's face, and he asked, with no attempt to conceal a +smile, "Well, my child, is all settled to your satisfaction, +and"--after a second's pause--"liking?" + +She tried to answer him, but could not. Her heart was too overflowing +with gratitude, happiness, hope. + +They all seemed struggling for precedence in the words that should come +from her lips, and she found herself unable to speak. + +Her eyes filled, and she looked up as though imploring him to find in +her face all that her lips failed to say. Then she sprang forward, and +seizing his hand, pressed it to her lips. + +He appeared to understand fully the cause of her silence and +agitation,--to know and appreciate the emotions that rendered her dumb; +and the lines of his face resumed their accustomed gravity as he +withdrew his hand from her clasp and laid it gently upon the curly head +so far beneath his own majestic height. + +"God bless you, my daughter, and keep you--always!" + +No father could have spoken more tenderly to his child; and the words +came to Dorothy as a benediction from him who had so recently passed +away. + +Washington now addressed himself to Captain Southorn. + +"You have in this child a priceless treasure," he said. "God grant +that you ne'er forget the fact, nor the debt you owe her." + +"I never will--I never can, sir," the young man answered with +unmistakable sincerity, as he came and took his wife by the hand. "Of +that, sir, you may rest assured," he added, in a voice shaking with +strong emotion. + +Washington bent his head in approval. "For the present," he continued, +"I deem it proper that you remain as before. I purpose stopping here +until afternoon, and will then have you taken to Cambridge, unless some +unforeseen matter shall arise to alter my plans." + +The prisoner bowed in silence; then, as Washington went toward the door +to summon Doak, the young man turned to smile hopefully into his wife's +eyes. + +"Keep a brave heart, sweet one," he whispered, "and trust in my love +and truth. Naught can ever part us now." + +A minute later the door closed after the fisherman and his charge. + +"Keep the paper, child," Washington said to Dorothy, as soon as they +were alone, "and remember that the promise it contains is renewed for +the future. In such days as are about us, it is not improbable to +reckon upon its being needed again--although scarcely for a like +purpose." + +He smiled, as his fingers closed upon the small hand within which he +placed the eventful slip of paper. "And now go, my daughter," he +added, "and may God bless you. Trust in Him, and He will surely watch +over your life, and make all well in the end." + + + + +CHAPTER XXX + +Had Dorothy been less absorbed by anxiety and grief when she was making +her way to General Washington's apartments, she would have heard the +door of the taproom open softly as she reached the foot of the stairs +leading to the second floor. + +Farmer Gilbert's head was thrust from the opening, and his fierce eyes +watched the slight figure ascend to the landing above and turn in the +direction of the rooms occupied by the Commander-in-Chief. + +As soon as she was out of sight, he glanced up and down the hall, to +make certain no one was near, and slipped cautiously out. Then quickly +removing his heavy shoes, he stole, cat-like, up the stairway. + +His progress was stayed by the voices of the girl and Doak; and raising +his head until his eyes were on a level with the floor, he saw them +enter the room together. + +"Whatever be she up to?" he muttered. Then hearing footsteps in the +hall below, he sped noiselessly up the few remaining steps, and made +haste to hide himself in Mistress Trask's linen-press, standing only a +short distance away, and which afforded him ample opportunity for +watching, as he held the door ajar. + +"Aha, my lady spy," he whispered to himself, "I'll keep my eye on +ye--an' my ears, too. Ye can't fool Jason Gilbert, 'though ye may fool +some as thinks they know more as I." + +He saw Doak fetch the British prisoner, and noted the length of time +the young man remained in the room whither the girl had gone. + +"Aye--him outside, last night, an' she on the inside," his maudlin +thoughts ran on. "They thought to hev it all their own way,--to tell +the Britishers the names o' the officers that were here, an' all that +was goin' on. An' now here be General Washington himself, I'll be +bound, lettin' her coax him to save t' other spy from hangin', when +they both ought to be strung up together. I wish now I'd not set up a +hello that brought the men out o' the inn, but had jest given him a +crack o'er the head myself, to settle the matter, an' so hev none o' +this triflin', with her tryin' to pull the wool over the General's +eyes. But I guess he'll know 'em for the pair o' d----d British spies +they be." + +His lips moved in unworded mutterings, his eyes intent upon Doak--now +sitting by the closed door--or else glancing about the hall to see if +any one were approaching his place of concealment. + +When Doak was again summoned within the room, Gilbert thought to +improve the chance for making his escape; but seeing that the door was +open a few inches, he concluded to wait. Then he saw the fisherman +come out with the prisoner, and he uttered a low curse when the young +man turned to meet the girl's eyes before the door closed behind him. + +Before the sound of their footsteps died away down the hall, Farmer +Gilbert left his hiding-place and hastened below, sitting down on the +steps to replace his shoes, as one of the women servants came along. + +"Got a pebble, or summat, in my shoe," he explained, raising his head; +for the girl had stopped, and was staring at him curiously. + +"Did ye have to take off both shoes to find it?" she asked pertly. + +He did not answer, and she passed on to the tap-room, whither he +followed her. + +Less than an hour after this, as Mary and Dorothy were in their little +parlor, talking over the recent happenings, the landlady came to +announce that General Washington desired to see them at once. + +They observed, as they passed along the hall, that some fresh +excitement seemed to prevail, for they could see that the taproom was +filled with men, many of whom were talking animatedly. + +The door of Washington's room stood open, and they saw him in earnest +conversation with two other officers, who withdrew as the girls entered. + +He welcomed them kindly, although seeming preoccupied,--as if pressed +by some new matter which disturbed him. + +"A messenger has brought information that a body of the enemy is coming +in this direction," he said, speaking quite hurriedly. "It is +therefore prudent that we go our ways with all proper speed, and I wish +to urge your own immediate departure. I regret that our routes lie in +different directions; but I will send the man Doak to escort you, as it +appears he is well known to your family." + +Seeing the consternation in the girls' faces, he added reassuringly: +"There is no cause for alarm, for you have ample time to put a safe +distance between yourselves and the approaching British. I think it +probable they will halt for a time here, at the tavern, for this seems +to be their objective point." + +"Do you think there is like to be a battle?" Mary inquired nervously. + +Washington smiled at her fears. + +"No," he answered. "It is but a moderate-sized force--probably +reconnoitring. We shall, I trust, have the enemy well out of Boston +erelong, without the risk or slaughter of a battle." + +Then he added: "But we are losing valuable time, and I have something +more pleasant than battles to speak about. I take it, Mistress +Devereux,"--and he turned to Mary,--"that your little sister here has +made you aware of what passed between us but an hour ago?" + +"Yes, sir." And Mary stole a side glance at Dorothy, wondering that +the girl should appear so self-possessed. + +"Captain Southorn will go with me to Cambridge," he continued, "where +his ultimate disposition will be decided upon." + +Dorothy started; but looking at Washington, she saw a smile in the +kindly glance bent upon her troubled face. + +"He will also meet Lieutenant Devereux there, and this I deem a +desirable thing for all concerned. So take heart, Mistress Dorothy, +and trust that all will end happily." + +He looked at his watch, and then held out a hand to each of them. + +"Get you under way for Dorchester at once," he said, "and you shall +hear something from me within the week." + +With this he led them to the door and bade them God speed, warning them +once more to make haste in leaving the inn. + +When they had put on their riding-hats, and gathered up their few +belongings, the two girls left their room in company with Mistress +Trask, who, between the excitement of seeing her distinguished guests +depart, and the unusual exercise attending the concealment of her +choicest viands from the approaching enemy, was well-nigh speechless. + +Emerging from the narrow passage leading to the main hall of the inn, +they encountered a small knot of men looking curiously at Captain +Southorn and the two soldiers guarding him, who were standing at the +foot of the staircase, apart from the others, and were apparently +waiting for orders, while outside the open door several other men were +gathered, in charge of a dozen or more horses. + +As Mary's glance fell upon the young Englishman, she flushed a little, +and holding her chin a bit higher than before, turned her eyes in +another direction--but not until he saw the angry flash in them. + +A faint smile touched his lips as he lifted his hat, and then an eager +look came to his eyes as he saw the small figure following close behind +her, whose steps seemed to falter as she neared him. + +Just then there was a call from above stairs; and as one of the guards +ascended hastily to answer it, Captain Southorn said something in a low +tone to the other one--quite a young man--standing beside him. + +He listened, and then shook his head, but hesitatingly, as he glanced +toward Dorothy, who was looking wistfully at his prisoner. + +Good Mistress Trask had chanced to overhear what the Britisher said; +and speaking to the young soldier, she exclaimed testily: +"Fiddlesticks, Tommy Macklin! Why not let him speak a word to the +young lady, when he asks ye so polite-like? What harm can come of it? +They be old acquaintances." + +Tommy seemed to waver; but being a good-hearted young fellow, as well +as standing somewhat in awe of the landlady, who was a distant +relative, he made no farther objection, and nodded his consent. + +Southorn gave Mistress Trask a grateful smile, and stepping quickly to +where Dorothy was standing, took her hand and led her a few steps away +from the others, as he asked in a low voice, "Do you know what is to be +done with me, sweetheart?" + +"Only that you are to go to Cambridge," was the hurried reply. + +"I knew that much myself," he said smilingly. "But what is the meaning +of all this sudden stir?" + +"They say the--British are marching toward the inn," she whispered, her +mind troubled by the fear that she had no right to give him this +information. + +He drew a quick breath; and she readily divined the thoughts that +caused him to frown, and bite his lips. + +"General Washington said you would meet my brother at Cambridge, and +that it was best to--best for--that it was important for you to see +him," she added stammeringly, while her color deepened. + +The scowl left his face, and he smiled at her in a way to make her eyes +seek the floor. + +"Aha! did he, indeed? Well then, no doubt it is best that I am going +to Cambridge, and as soon as may be. But," with some anxiety, "what +think you this brother of yours will say to me, or will a bullet be all +he will have for my hearing?" + +"No, indeed no!" Dorothy exclaimed. "Jack would never show you +unkindness, for he knows--he well knows, because I told him--" + +"Do you mean to say," he asked quickly, cutting short her words, "that +your brother has known all this time the blessed truth that I learned +only this very morning?" + +"He only knew of it just before he left home in the summer," she +whispered. "I had to tell him." + +"Why?" + +"I was afraid you and he might meet, and I was fearful that--" The +voice died away, and Dorothy's head drooped. + +"Sweetheart," he said softly, "I understand. You must have been sadly +torn betwixt your love and what you thought to be your duty. It makes +me realize more keenly what a brute I have made of myself. But trust +me--only trust and believe in my honor and true love, and I will try +all my life to make amends for the suffering I have caused you." + +Washington and his suite were now descending the stairs, and Tommy +Macklin hastened to place himself closer to his prisoner as the other +soldier joined him. + +Then Southorn turned to Dorothy and said: "It is evident that we are +about to leave. Tell me quickly as to your own movements,--you surely +are not going to stop here?" + +"Oh no; Mary and I are to set out right away for Dorchester, and +Fisherman Doak is to see us safely housed with Mistress Knollys." + +"You will go at once," he insisted, "and not delay a second?" + +She nodded smilingly, and their eyes spoke the farewell their lips were +forbidden to utter. + +Mary had been standing all this time alongside Mistress Trask, her face +studiously averted from the two at whom nearly all the others were +staring wonderingly. + +She now came forward, and without looking at Captain Southorn, joined +Dorothy; and in company with the landlady they passed through the door +into the midday sunlight flooding the world outside. + +Washington and those with him were the first to leave,--their departure +being witnessed by every one at the inn. + +The two girls were now standing side by side in the doorway; and +Captain Southorn, on horseback, with a mounted guard on either side of +him, smiled again as his glance fell on Mary's spirited face, and at +the thought it awakened of that morning at the Sachem's Cave. + +"They be goin' to take the spy to Cambridge, to hang him," muttered +Farmer Gilbert to Mistress Trask, his restless eyes roving from the +sweet young face in the doorway to that of the young man sitting upon +the horse. + +"No such thing," said the landlady, with an indignant sniff. "He is a +prisoner, but there's no further talk o' hangin'." + +"Who says so?" and the farmer's scowling brows grew blacker. + +"The young ladies say so, an' they both know him--knew him long ago." + +"Aye, that I'll be bound, as to one of 'em, at any rate," he growled, +eying Dorothy savagely. The girl's face was telling her secret, while +she stood watching her husband turn for a parting smile as he rode off +with the others. + +"Where do she live?" Gilbert asked suddenly, jerking his thumb toward +the doorway, in front of which Doak was now standing with the horses. + +"Down at Marblehead, when they be at home; both of 'em live there," the +landlady answered. "But they be stoppin' at Dorchester now, with +friends, an' there's where they're bound for." With this she turned +away, her manner showing that she desired no further parley with him. + +The man stood for a few moments, as if reflecting upon what he had +heard. Then, with one more glance at the two girls, he turned slowly +about, and took his way to the stables of the inn. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXI + +Doak and his charges had gone but a short distance when the sound of +hoofs behind them caused all three to turn, wondering who might be +approaching. + +It was a man, evidently an American by his appearance; and as they +looked back at him, he seemed to check the hitherto brisk gait of his +horse. + +Dorothy was the first to recognize him. + +"Oh, Mary, 't is that dreadful man who frightened us!" + +"Frightened ye?" echoed Doak, interrogatively. "How was that, +mistress?" + +When Mary explained what had taken place the night before, he glanced +back again, and saw that the distance between them was rapidly +increasing, for the man in the rear was letting his horse walk, while +he sat swinging loosely in the saddle. + +"There be naught to fear now," he said, in a way to reassure the two +girls. "He's not like to think o' tryin' any frightenin' game with me. +An' he rides like he had too much store o' liquor aboard to be thinkin' +of aught but keepin' firm hold on his craft." Then, when he had looked +again, "He be fallin' way behind, so there's no call for bein' +fright'ed, either one o' ye." + +They soon lost sight of the stranger, and without further happening +arrived safely at their destination, to receive a motherly welcome from +Mistress Knollys, who had been most anxious concerning them, knowing +how the roads were infested with stragglers from both armies. + +She insisted upon Doak alighting to take some refreshment; and he, +nothing loath, did so, while she wrote a letter to her son for the +fisherman to carry back to Cambridge. + +Dorothy and Mary also improved the opportunity to write to Jack, Dot +even venturing to enclose a little missive for Captain Southorn, which +she begged her brother to deliver. + +It was her first love letter, although so demure and prim in its +wording as scarcely to deserve that name. But a loyal affection +breathed through it, praying him to hope, and to trust in Washington's +friendship for them. + +Mistress Knollys listened with widening eyes to Mary's account of their +interview with the great man,--for she invested him with all the power +of His Gracious Majesty, and regarded him with more awe than ever she +had King George himself. + +She laughed outright over the description of their having been caught +in his apartments, and asked to see the paper he had given Dorothy, +touching it as something most sacred. + +Dorothy had gone above stairs, leaving Mary and the good woman together +in the living-room, where the afternoon sunshine poured across the +floor in broad slants from the two windows opening upon the garden at +the rear of the house. + +Presently Mistress Knollys said, "It would seem, my dear, to be the +very best outcome for Dorothy's matter, the way things have befallen." + +"Yes," Mary assented with a sigh, "so it does." + +"And yet," added the old lady, "I fear it will be hard for the little +maid, with a brother and husband fighting against one another." + +"Ah, but you forget, dear Mistress Knollys, that he told her he thought +of setting sail for his home in England." + +"And then I suppose she would go with him." + +"Aye;" and Mary sighed again. "I think she will surely wish to do +this." + +"Well, well, my dear," said Mistress Knollys, speaking more briskly, +"that is not like to be right away, as he must await his exchange as a +prisoner, and there's no telling when that will come to pass. Let us +borrow no trouble until we know the end, which, after all, may be a +happy one." + +It was the fourth day after this that Mary was gladdened by the sight +of her husband riding up in front of Mistress Knollys' door; and with +him were Hugh and a dozen other stout fellows on horseback. He +explained that they had but a short time to tarry, and were come at +Washington's command, to carry Dorothy back with them to Cambridge. + +"Hey, you little mischief, see the stir you are guilty of +making,--getting half the camp by the ears with your goings on," he +said laughingly, and in a way to set at rest all her misgivings, as he +took her in his arms. + +"But what am I to go to Cambridge for?" she asked rather nervously, +still with her arms around his neck, and holding back her head to get a +better look at his face, in which a serious expression seemed to be +underlying its usual brightness. + +"Did I not tell you,--because General Washington sent us to fetch you? +But come," he added more gravely, "we must get away at once. Hasten +and get yourself ready and I will tell you all as we ride along." + +"Had I not better go with her?" asked Mary, when Dot had left them. + +Her husband shook his head. "No, it was only Dot we were to bring." + +"But for her to go alone, with a lot of men--" Mary began. + +He put an arm around her shoulder as he interrupted her remonstrances. + +"She goes with her brother, sweetheart, and to meet her husband." + +"But she is coming back?" And Mary spoke very anxiously. + +"Aye, she'll return sometime to-morrow; but for how long is for herself +and the other to decide." + +Then he explained: "The British have a man of ours, one Captain +Pickett, a valiant soldier, with a stout arm and true heart. They have +had him these three months, a prisoner in Boston, and we have been most +anxious to bring about his exchange. General Washington has now +arranged this through Southorn, who is to return to-morrow to Boston, +and Captain Pickett is to be sent to us. After that, as I have said, +we have no right to dictate Dorothy's movements. Captain Southorn has +told me that he should return to England as soon as may be." + +"Then," said Mary in a tone of conviction, and the tears springing to +her eyes, "Dot will go with him." + +"Aye, belike," he sighed, "for they love one another truly." + +"And you, Jack, do you--can you look at and speak to this man with any +tolerance?" demanded his wife, the asperity of her voice seeming to dry +away the tears. + +"I try to do so, for Dot's sake, and for what he is to her. I've found +him to be a gentleman, and a right manly fellow, despite the prank of +which he was guilty." + +"Well, I shall hate him the longest day I live!" + +Mary could say nothing more, for Mistress Knollys and Hugh now came in +from another room, where they had been together. + +Dorothy had passed this room on her way up the stairs, and seeing Hugh, +stopped, while he came forward quickly to meet her. + +"Oh, Hugh, but I am truly glad to see you once more!" she exclaimed. +"How long, how very long it seems since you went away!" And there were +tears shining in the eyes she raised to his face. + +He clasped both her extended hands, and reminding himself of all he had +heard, strove to hide his true feelings, while his mother, from the +room back of them, watched the two in silence, still seeming to hear +the cry he had uttered only a moment before,-- + +"Oh, mother, mother, I feel that my heart will break!" + +Dorothy could not but observe the paleness of his face, and the traces +as of recent tears showing about the blue eyes; but she attributed +these to other than the real cause,--perhaps to matters arising between +his mother and himself after their long separation. + +"I am glad you have missed me sufficiently to make the time seem long +to you, Dot," he replied, well aware, in the bitterness of his own +heart, of how little this had to do with her show of emotion. + +"Aye, I have missed you very much," she declared earnestly. "And so +many sad things have happened since!" + +"Yes--and so many that are not sad," he added significantly, desiring, +since he might be expected to speak of her marriage, to have it over +with. + +A burning blush deepened the color in her cheeks. She drew away the +hands he had been holding all this time, her eyes fell, and she seemed +scarcely to know how to reply. + +"I pray God you will be very happy, Dorothy." And his speaking her +full name accentuated the gravity of his voice and manner. + +"Thank you, Hugh," she replied, trying to smile: then, with a nervous +laugh, "And when you return to Marblehead and see Polly Chine, I hope I +may say the same to you." + +The young man forced a laugh that well-nigh choked him. It had been +hard enough to endure before he saw her. But even when he knew from +her brother of her being forced into a marriage with this Britisher, +his heart refused to relinquish all hope, despite what his friend had +told him of Dorothy's own feeling toward her husband. + +But he had still cherished the idea that somehow, in some way, they +might never come together again; that the Britisher, believing Dorothy +to have no love for him, might sail away to England without her, should +the fortune of war spare him to do this. + +He also reckoned--hoped, rather--that the girl was so young as to +recover from any sentiment this stranger might have awakened within her +heart. + +But now, in the light of what had come about and was soon to be, all +hope was dead for him. The sight of the face and form he had never +loved so well as now,--when she seemed so sweet and so lovable in her +newly acquired womanliness--all this was unnerving him. + +With these thoughts whirling through his brain, he stood looking at +her, while he forced such an unnatural laugh as made her glance at him +nervously and draw herself away. + +"I'm not like to see the old town for many a long day, I fear," he +managed to say, his voice growing less strained as he saw the wondering +look in her dark eyes; "and as for Polly Chine, you must find one more +suited to my taste before you 've cause to wish me what I now wish you +with all my heart." + +With this he turned hastily away, and his mother asked, "You are going +to get ready to start for Cambridge, child?" + +"Yes," replied Dorothy, "I must leave at once." + +"And can I do aught to help?" the good woman inquired. + +Upon being assured that she could not, she cheerily bade the girl make +haste, and to remember that she was expected to return the next day. + +"I shall miss the child sorely," she said, as the click of Dorothy's +little heels died away on the floor above. + +Hugh said nothing, but sighed heavily, as he stood looking out of the +window with eyes that saw nothing. + +His mother went to him and laid a gentle hand upon his broad shoulder. + +"Oh, my son, my dear son," she said in a trembling voice, "my old heart +is sore for you. I have hoped for years that--" + +He whirled suddenly about. + +"Don't mother--don't say any more--not now. Let me fight it out alone, +and try to keep such a bearing as will prevent her from knowing the +truth." + +Then the passion in his voice died out, and he caressed her gray hair +with a loving touch. + +She drew his face down and kissed him. + +"Come," she said, with an effort at cheerfulness,--"come into the other +room and have speech with Mary before you go, else she'll think we've +lost all proper sense of our manners. This is the first time you and +she have met since her marriage." + + + + +CHAPTER XXXII + +It was evening when the party reached the headquarters at Cambridge. + +A faint afterglow of the brilliant sunset still lingered, but the +roadway leading to the entrance of the house was dusky with the shadows +of coming night, which almost hid the great trees on either side. + +The air about was filled with the faint hum of camp life. Occasionally +a voice could be heard, or the neighing of a horse,--figures of men +were discernible here and there, and a sentry was pacing before the +steps of the mansion. + +"Here we are, Dot," said her brother; and dismounting, he helped her +from her horse. "Careful, child;" for she had tripped, her +riding-skirt having become entangled about her feet as she followed him +into the open doorway. "I will take you directly to the room prepared +for you, and do you wait there until I return." + +She said nothing, but held fast to his arm. + +"Come, be brave," he whispered; "there is naught for you to fear." And +he led her within, leaving Hugh Knollys with the other men outside. + +The hall was spacious and well lighted. Several officers and privates +were moving about, all of whom stared wonderingly at the unusual sight +of a lady,--although it was not easy to decide whether it was a woman +or child--this dainty little figure in the riding-habit, who was +looking about with unconcealed curiosity. + +Far down the hall, to the left, her brother opened a door, showing a +spacious, well-furnished chamber, where a wood fire was blazing,--for +the night was drawing in chilly. + +"Now take off your hat, child, and feel at home," he said, kissing her. +"Remember there is naught to fear. It is only that we are wishing to +fix matters for you, little one, so that you'll be happy." And he +kissed her again as she clung to his neck. + +"Ah, Jack," she whispered, "you are so good to me!" + +"I've never had the wish to be other than good," he replied lovingly. + +As soon as she was alone, Dorothy removed her hat, and then, as she +stood by the hearth, watching the leaping flames, smoothed out her +curls. + +So engaged, and lost in thought, she did not hear the tapping upon the +door, nor see that it opened softly and a man's figure paused on the +threshold, as if watching the slight form standing by the fire, with +the back turned squarely to him. + +"Little one," came in a voice that startled the silence. + +She turned like a flash, and although the firelight did not touch his +face, it was not needed to tell her who it was. + +He closed the door, and advanced with outstretched arms, laughing with +exultation when she fled to them. + +"You are still of the same mind as when we parted?" he said, while he +held her as if never meaning to let her go from him again. + +"How can you ask?" And she nestled yet closer to him. + +His only answer was to kiss her. Then, bringing a chair to the hearth, +he seated himself, and attempted to draw her upon his knee. But she +frustrated this by perching herself upon the arm of the chair, from +which she looked triumphantly into his face. + +"Your hands are cold, little one," he said, holding them against his +cheek. + +"We had a long ride," she replied, her eyes drooping before the +intensity of his gaze. + +"Aye, so you did; are you tired?" + +"No, not at all," was her smiling answer, and her appearance did not +belie the words. + +"Hungry?"--with a little laugh, and tightening the clasp of his arm +about her. + +"No," again lifting her eyes to his happy face. + +"Well, I have been hungry for days, and with a hunger that is now being +happily appeased. But a supper is to be ready for you shortly, and +then you are to see General Washington. Do you understand, sweetheart, +what all this is about?" He was looking down at the small hands +resting in one of his own, and smiling as he noted with a lover's eye +how dainty and white they were. + +"Yes," she said, "my brother explained all that to me." + +"And you will come with me--now, at once, as soon as I can make my +arrangements?" He spoke hurriedly, nervously. + +"To England?" she asked, a very serious look now showing in her dark +eyes. + +"Aye, to England," he repeated in a tone whose firmness was +contradicted by his perturbed face. + +Disengaging one hand, her arm stole around his neck as she whispered, +"I would go to the ends of the earth with you now." + +He held her head away, the better to look into her face, as he said +with a sigh of contentment: "Now I can breathe easy! You see I did not +dare believe you would really come,--you've ever been such a capricious +little rebel." + +Presently he asked, as he toyed with her small fingers, "Where got you +all these different rings, little one?" and a note almost of jealousy +sounded in his voice. "Here be many pretty brilliants--I thought maids +in this country never wore such. How comes such a baby as you with a +ring like this?" And he lifted her hand to look at the one which had +attracted his special notice. + +"My father gave it to me," she said quietly; "it was my mother's--whom +I never saw." + +He pressed his lips to the sparkling circlet. "My little wife, I'll be +mother, father--all things else to you. All of them together could not +love you more truly and sacredly than do I. Ah, my darling, you have +but poor knowledge of the way I love you, and how highly I prize your +esteem. How can you, after the rough wooing to which I treated you?" + +Then he whispered, "And where is the ruby ring?" + +He felt her head stir uneasily against his shoulder, "Surely you did +not throw it away?" he asked after a moment's waiting. + +Dorothy laughed, softly and happily. + +"You told me that night at Master Weeks'," she whispered, "that you did +not believe what my lips said, but what my eyes had shown you." + +"Aye, so I did, and so I thought when I spoke. But until now I've been +tossed about with such conflicting thoughts as scarce to know what to +think." + +"That may be so," she said, sitting erect to look at him. "But, +believing what you read in my eyes then and before, think you I would +throw away the ring?" + +"Then where is it?" he asked again, smiling at her earnestness. + +For answer she raised her hands to her neck, and undoing the fastening +of a gold chain, drew it, with the ring strung upon it, from where they +had rested, and laid them both in his hand. + +His fingers closed quickly over them as he exclaimed, "Was there ever +such a true little sweetheart?" + +Then lifting her into his lap, he said, "You have never yet said to me +in words that you really love me. Tell me so now--say it!" + +"Think you that you have need for words?" A bit of her old wilfulness +was now showing in her laughing eyes. + +"Nay--truly no need, after what you have done for me, and have said you +would go home with me. But there's a wish to hear such words, little +one, and to hear you speak my name--which, now that I think of it, I +verily believe you do not even know." + +She nodded smilingly, but did not answer. + +"What is it?" he asked coaxingly, as he would have spoken to a child. + +"Ah--I know it." And she laughed teasingly. + +"Then say it," he commanded with mock fierceness. "Say it this minute, +or I'll--" + +But her soft palm was against his lips, cutting short his threat. + +"It is--Kyrle," she said demurely. + +"Aye, so it is, and I never thought it could sound so sweet. Now say +the rest of it--there's a good child. Ah, little one," he exclaimed +with sudden passion, "I can scarcely yet believe all this is true. Lay +all doubt at rest forever by telling me you love me!" + +The laughter was gone from her eyes, and a solemn light came into them. + +"Kyrle Southorn, I love you--I do love you!" + +They now heard voices and steps outside the door, and Dorothy sprang to +her feet, while Captain Southorn arose hastily from the chair and set +it back in place. + +It was John Devereux who entered, followed by a soldier. + +"Well, good people," he said cheerily, giving the young Britisher a +glance of swift scrutiny, and then looking smilingly at Dorothy, "there +is a supper waiting for this small sister of mine; and, Dot, you must +come with me--and that speedily, as I am famishing." + +He advanced and drew her hand within his arm; then turning with more +dignity of manner to the Englishman, he added, "After we have supped, +Captain Southorn, I will look for you in your room, as General +Washington will then be ready to receive us." + +Southorn bowed gravely. Then, with a sudden boyish impulsiveness, he +extended his hand. + +"May I not first hear from your own lips," he asked earnestly, "that +you wish me well?" + +Jack clasped the hand as frankly as it had been offered, and Dorothy's +heart beat happily, as she saw the two dearest on earth to her looking +with friendly eyes upon one another. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIII + +An hour later the three stood before the door of Washington's private +office; and in response to John Devereux's knock, the voice that was +now so familiar to Dorothy bade them enter. + +As they came into the room, Washington advanced toward Dorothy with his +hand held out in greeting, and his eyes were filled with kindness as +they looked into the charming face regarding him half fearfully. + +"Welcome," he said,--"welcome, little Mistress Southorn." + +At the sound of that name, heard now for the first time, a rush of +color suffused Dorothy's cheeks, while the two younger men smiled, +albeit each with a different meaning. + +The one was triumphantly happy, but Jack's smile was touched with +bitterness, and a sudden contraction, almost painful, caught his throat +for a second. + +"I trust that my orders were properly carried out for your comfort," +continued Washington, still addressing Dorothy, as he motioned them all +to be seated. + +She courtesied, and managed to make a fitting reply. But she felt +quite uncomfortable, and somewhat alarmed, to find her small self an +object of so much consideration. + +The Commander-in-Chief now seated himself, and turned a graver face to +the young Englishman. + +"May I ask, Captain Southorn, if the plans of which you told Lieutenant +Devereux and myself are to be carried out?" + +The young man bowed respectfully. + +"I am most happy, sir, to assure you that they are, and at the +speediest possible moment after I return to Boston." + +Washington was silent a moment, and his eyes turned to Lieutenant +Devereux, who, seemingly regardless of all else, was watching his +sister. + +"And you, Lieutenant, do you give your consent to all this?" + +"Yes, sir." But the young man sighed. + +"And now, little Mistress Southorn," Washington said, smiling once +more, "tell me, have you consented to leave America and go with your +husband?" + +"Yes, sir," she replied almost sadly, and stealing a look at her +brother's downcast face. + +"It would seem, then, that the matter is settled as it should be, and +to the satisfaction of all parties," Washington said heartily. "And I +wish God's blessing upon both of you young people, and shall hope, +Mistress Dorothy, that your heart will not be entirely weaned from your +own land." + +"That can never be, sir," she exclaimed with sudden spirit, and +glancing almost defiantly at her husband, who only smiled in return. + +"Aye, child--so? I am truly glad to hear it." Then rising from his +chair, he said: "And now I must ask you to excuse me, as I have matters +of importance awaiting my attention, and regret greatly that I cannot +spare more time thus pleasantly. You will escort your sister back to +Dorchester in the morning, Lieutenant?" + +"Aye, sir, with your permission." + +"You have it; and you had better take the same number of men you had +yesterday. Return as speedily as possible, as there are signs of--" + +He checked himself abruptly, but swept away any suggestion of +discourtesy by saying, as he held out his hand to the young Englishman, +"I'll bid you good-night, Captain Southorn; you see that it is natural +now to think of you as a friend." + +"It is an honor to me, sir, to hear you say as much," the other +replied, as he took the extended hand and bowed low over it. "And I +beg to thank you for all your kindness to me and to--my wife." + +Dorothy now courtesied to Washington, and was about to leave the room, +when he stretched out a detaining hand. + +"Stay a moment, child. I am not likely to see you again before you +depart, and therefore it is good-by as well as good-night. You will +see that I have endeavored to do what was best for you, although I must +admit"--and he glanced smilingly at Jack--"it was no great task for me +to bring your brother to see matters as I did. And now may God bless +you, and keep your heart the brave, true one I shall always remember." + +She was unable to speak, and could only lift her eyes to the face of +this great man, who, notwithstanding the weight of anxiety and +responsibility pressing upon him, had been the one to smooth away the +troubles which had threatened to mar her young life, and who had now +brought about the desire of her heart. + +But his kindly look at length gave her courage, and she managed to say, +although chokingly, "I can never find words in which to thank you, sir." + +He bowed as the three left the room, and no word was spoken while they +took their way down the hall to Dorothy's apartment. + +Jack opened the door and motioned the others to enter. + +"I must leave you now," he said, "and go to see Hugh Knollys. He is +not feeling just right to-night." + +"Why, is he ill? I wondered that he was not at supper with us." +Dorothy spoke quickly, her voice trembled, and her brother saw that she +was weeping. + +He followed them into the room and closed the door. Then he turned to +Dot, and taking her by the hand, asked tenderly, "What is troubling +you, my dear child?" + +She gave a great sob and threw herself upon his breast. + +"'T is because of what he just said--as we left him. It made me +realize that I am soon to go away across the sea from you--from all of +you," she exclaimed passionately. "Oh--how can I bear it!" + +"'T is somewhat late, little sister, to think of that," her brother +replied, caressing her curly head with the loving touch she had known +ever since the childhood days. Then bending his lips close to her ear, +he whispered, "See--you are making him unhappy." + +At this she glanced over her shoulder at her husband, who had walked to +the hearth, and stood looking into the fire. + +"Come, little girl, cheer up," said Jack, "for to-night, at least. You +are to have a little visit with him before he returns to his quarters. +And before to-morrow noon he will be on the road to Boston." + +With a long, sobbing sigh, she released him; then, as she wiped the +tears from her eyes, she said with a wan smile, "It is hard--cruelly +hard, to have one's heart so torn in opposite ways." + +He knew her meaning, and thought, as he went away, how small was their +own grief compared with that of poor Hugh, who, utterly unmanned, had +immured himself in his quarters. + +Dorothy stole to the hearth, where stood the silent figure of her +husband; and as he still did not speak, she ventured to reach out and +steal a timid hand within the one hanging by his side. + +His fingers instantly prisoned it in a close clasp, and so they +remained for a time looking silently into the fire. Presently he +sighed, and drawing the chain and ruby ring from his pocket, said very +gently, "Will you wear this ring, sweetheart, until such time as I can +get one more suitable?" + +"Aye--but I'd sooner not wear any other," she replied, looking +wistfully at him,--awed and troubled by this new manner of his. + +"Would you?" And he smiled as he fastened the chain about her neck. +"Then I shall be obliged to have the half of it taken away, in order to +make a proper fit for that small finger. But you must let me put on a +plain gold band, as well, so that all may be in proper form." + +She caught his hand and laid it against her cheek, while the light of +the burning wood caught in the ruby ring, making it gleam like a +ruddier fire against the folds of her dark-green habit. + +"Why are you so unhappy?" she asked. + +"That I am not, sweet little wife," he answered, drawing her to him, +"save when I see you unhappy." + +"But I am not unhappy," she protested, adding brokenly, "except +that--that--" + +"Except that you cherish a warm love for kindred and home, and one it +would be most unnatural for you to be lacking," he interrupted. "But +never fear, little one,"--and he stroked her hair much as her brother +had done--"you will not be unhappy with me, if you love me; and that +you say you do, and so I know it for a truth--thank God. This war +cannot last very long, and I've lost all heart to care whether King or +colony win. To tell the truth,"--and he laughed as he bent over to +kiss her--"I fear my heart has turned traitor enough to love best the +cause of her I love. So it is as well that I send in my resignation, +which is certain to be accepted; and we'll go straight to my dear old +home among the Devonshire hills, and be happily out of the way of the +strife. And when it is over, we can often cross the sea to your own +home, and perhaps your brother and his wife--if I can ever make my +peace with her--will also come to us. And so, sweetheart, you see the +parting is not forever--nor for very long." + +Thus he went on soothing and cheering her as he seated himself again in +the big chair by the hearth and drew her to his knee. Presently, and +as if to divert her thoughts, he said: "Come--tell me something of your +family. I have seen them all, as you know, but there are two of its +members with whom I never had speech." + +Dorothy puckered her brows and looked at him questioningly. + +"They are wide apart as to age," he added, smiling at her +perplexity,--"for one of them is a sweet-faced old lady, and the other +is a lovely little girl with long yellow locks and wonderful blue eyes. +She was with you that eventful day at the cave." And he laughed softly +at the thought of what that day had brought about. + +"Why, the old lady was Aunt Lettice, and the little girl is her +granddaughter--'Bitha Hollis, my cousin." + +"She looks a winsome little thing--this 'Bitha," he said, happy to see +the brightness come to Dorothy's face. + +She was smiling, for the names had brought visions of her dear old +home, and she seemed to see all the loving faces in the fire before her. + +"Yes--and she is a dear child, and full of the oddest fancies." And +now Dorothy laughed outright as some of 'Bitha's queer sayings came to +her. + +She went on to tell her husband of these; and when Jack returned half +an hour later to escort Captain Southorn to his room, he found the two +of them laughing happily together. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIV + +The next morning--although at rather a late hour for her--Dorothy +arose, feeling greatly refreshed by her sound and dreamless sleep. + +While she was yet dressing, her brother rapped on the door, and told +her she was to go to the little room near by, where supper had been +served the night before, and that Dolly--the sutler's wife--would have +breakfast ready for her. + +An hour later, as she stood at the open window of her room, drinking in +the fresh morning air, still bearing the odor of fallen leaves wetted +by the night damps, she saw her brother, with Captain Southorn and +several other men, chatting together a short distance away. + +Jack was the first to turn his eyes in her direction, and seeing her, +he smiled and waved his hand, at which Captain Southorn turned about +and hurried toward her. + +He was soon standing under the window, and reaching up took possession +of one of the small hands resting upon the sill. + +For an instant neither of them spoke, but Dorothy's dark eyes smiled +shyly into the blue ones uplifted to her face. + +"And it is really true," he said at last, with an air of conviction. +"Do you know, little one, that when I awakened this morning, I was +fearful at first that I 'd been dreaming it all. But knowing now what +I do, how can I have the heart to go away and leave you again? Cannot +you come to Boston with me now--this very day?" + +She shook her head. "No, no,--I must not do that. I must go back to +Dorchester, to see Mary and Mistress Knollys once more. And, +too"--with a blush--"I could not go without any raiment besides this." +And she touched the folds of her riding-habit. + +He stood a minute as if thinking, and then asked if she would come out +for a short walk. + +"Most assuredly," was her smiling response; and turning from the +window, she was not long in putting on her hat. + +As she was about leaving the room, she noticed her riding-whip lying on +the table where she had tossed it upon her arrival the previous +evening. It was a gift from her father, and one she prized very +highly; and fearing that the sight of it might excite the cupidity of +some of the servants, she picked it up, and then passed quickly out to +the porch. + +Here she encountered several of the officers whom she had seen talking +with her brother a short time before. They now drew aside to let her +go by, which she did hurriedly, her eyes lowered under the shadowy +plumes of her riding-hat, and oblivious of the admiring glances they +stole at her. + +Many of the inmates of Washington's headquarters had become acquainted +with her little romance; and so, unknown to herself, she was an object +of much interest. It was for this reason also, as well as on account +of the responsibility assumed with regard to him by Washington himself, +that the English captain was occupying a somewhat unusual position +amongst the American officers. + +Finding her brother and husband together, the two coming to meet her at +the porch, Dorothy asked after Hugh, and was told by Jack that he had +gone with a message to some of the outposts, but would return shortly. + +"And is he well this morning, Jack?" + +"Oh, yes," her brother answered lightly. "You will not go far away, of +course," he added, "nor stay long, else I shall have to come or send +for you." + +"Only a short distance;" and Captain Southorn motioned to the wood that +lay not far from the rear of the house. + +"Who is this Hugh?" he inquired, as they walked slowly along, the dry +leaves crackling under their feet. "Is he the sergeant, Hugh Knollys, +who went with your brother yesterday?" + +"Yes;" and something in his tone impelled her to add, "and I've known +him all my life." + +"Oh, yes," he said, knitting his brows a little, as he kicked the +leaves before him, "I remember right well. It was he I used to see +riding about the country with you so much last summer." + +"He is like my own brother," she explained quickly, not feeling quite +comfortable in something she detected in his manner of speech. + +"Is he?" now looking at her smilingly. "And does he regard you in the +same fraternal fashion?" + +"Why, of course," she answered frankly. "Hugh and I have always known +one another; we have gone riding and boating together for years, have +quarrelled and made up, just as Jack and I have done. Only," and now +she spoke musingly, "I cannot remember that Jack ever quarrelled much +with me." + +"No, I should say not, from what I've seen of him," her husband said +heartily. + +By this time they were in the seclusion of the wood; and now his arms +went about her and held her fast. + +"Sweetheart, tell me once more that you love me," he said. "I only +brought you here to have you tell it to me again, and in broad +daylight." + +She rested her head on his arm and smiled up into his face. + +"How many times must I tell you?" + +"With each sweet breath you draw, if you tell me as many times as I +would wish to hear. But this is certain to be the last moment I shall +have to see you alone, as you are to start for Dorchester, and I for +Boston. And you will surely--surely join me there as soon as I send +you word?" He spoke eagerly, and as if fearful that something might +arise to make her change her mind. + +"Yes, to be sure I will,--have I not promised?" + +"That you have, God bless you. And you will let no one turn you from +that, little one?" + +"Why, who should?" She opened her eyes in surprise, and then there +came a flash to them. "No, no, even if every one was to try, they +could not do it now. What is that?" + +She started nervously, and turned her head quickly about, as they both +heard a rustling in the bushes. + +"It is only a rabbit or squirrel," her husband said, "or perhaps a--" + +There was the sharp report of a gun close by, and a bullet grazed his +shoulder and struck the tree-trunk directly over Dorothy's head. The +next instant there came the sound of trampling and fierce struggling; +and a voice Dorothy knew at once, cried, "You sneaking dastard, what +murder is it you 're up to?" + +"Stop here, little one," said Captain Southorn, calmly, "just a second, +until I see what all this means." And he plunged into the tangled +thicket beside the path in which they had been standing. + +But Dorothy followed him closely; and a few yards away they came upon +Hugh Knollys, towering angrily over a man lying prostrate on the +ground, and whom Dorothy recognized instantly as the rude fellow who +had so alarmed her at the inn. + +At sight of the two figures breaking through the underbrush, Hugh +started in surprise, and a look which Dorothy found it hard to +understand showed in his face. + +"What is it--what is the matter?" Captain Southorn demanded angrily, +stepping toward the two other men. + +Hugh did not reply, and now they heard rapid footsteps approaching. + +"Here, this way,--come here!" shouted Hugh, who did not appear to have +heard the young Englishman's question. + +Farmer Gilbert had arisen slowly to his feet, and did not attempt to +escape from the grasp Hugh still kept upon his arm. + +"Oh, Hugh--what is it?" asked Dorothy, looking with frightened eyes at +his prisoner. + +"Never mind now, Dot," he answered hastily, but his voice softening. +"How came you here? You should not--" Then, with a half-sulky glance +as of apology to the young Englishman, he bit his lip and was silent. + +"We were standing in the path just now," said Captain Southorn, "when a +bullet came so close to us as to do this;" and he touched the torn +cloth on his shoulder. + +Hugh started. "Then it must have been you he was shooting at!" he +exclaimed, glancing angrily at the prisoner. + +"The bullet went just over my head and into a tree," said Dorothy, +continuing her husband's explanation. + +"Over your head, Dot!" cried Hugh. "So close to you as that!" And a +terrible look came to his face,--one that revealed his secret to the +purple-blue eyes watching him so keenly. "Oh--my God!" + +The appearance of several men--soldiers--cut the words short, and +restored Hugh's calmness, for, turning to them, he bade them take the +man and guard him carefully. + +"And I'll take this gun of yours," he said to him, "and see to it that +you get the treatment you deserve for such a cowardly bit of work." + +"Wait a bit, till I answers him," said Farmer Gilbert, now speaking for +the first time, as he turned to face Hugh, and holding back, so as to +arrest the steps of the men who were dragging him away. "I want to +say, young sir, that if ye had n't sneaked up on me from aback, an' +knocked my gun up, I'd hev done what I've been dodgin' 'round to do +these five days past--an' that were to put a bullet through the head or +d----d trait'rous heart o' that British spy in petticoats." + +His face was ablaze with passion, and he shook his clenched fist at +Dorothy, who stood looking at him as though he were a wild beast caught +in the toiler's net. + +Captain Southorn started forward; but Hugh motioned him back. Then +realizing the full sense of the fellow's words, he sprang upon him with +an oath such as no one had ever heard issue from his lips. + +Falling upon the defenceless man, he shook him fiercely. Then he +seemed to struggle for a proper control of himself, and asked +chokingly, "Do you mean to tell me that it was her you were aiming at +when I caught you?" + +He pointed to Dorothy, who was now clinging to her husband; and even in +that moment Hugh saw his arm steal about her protectingly. + +He turned his eyes away, albeit the sight helped to calm his rage, as +the bitter meaning of it swept over him. + +"Aye--it was," the man answered doggedly, nodding his bushy head; "an' +ye may roll me o'er the ground again, like a log that has no feelin', +an' send me to prison atop it all, for tryin' to do my country a +sarvice by riddin' it of a spy." + +The soldiers who were holding him looked significantly at each other +and then at Dorothy, who was still standing within the protecting arm +of the man they knew to be an English officer, and a prisoner who had +been captured, alone and at night, close to the spot where the +Commander-in-Chief was engaged in a conference with some of his +subordinates. + +Despite the fright to which she had been subjected, the girl was quick +to see all this, and the suspicion to which it pointed. And she now +astonished them all by leaving her husband's side, to advance rapidly +until she stood facing the soldiers and their prisoner, who cowered +away as he saw the flash of her eyes, and her small figure drawn to its +utmost height. + +"Do you dare say to my face that I am a British spy--I, Dorothy +Devereux, of Marblehead, whose only brother is an officer in Glover's +regiment? You lying scoundrel--take that!" And raising her +riding-whip, she cut him sharply across the face, the thin lash causing +a crimson welt to show upon its already florid hue. "And that," giving +him another cut. "And do you go to General Washington, and tell him +your wicked story, and I doubt not he'll endorse the writing of the +opinion I've put upon your cowardly face for saying such evil +falsehoods of me!" + +"Dot--Dorothy--whatever does this mean?" It was the voice of her +brother, as he dashed to her side and caught her arm, now lifted for +another blow. + +She shivered, and the whip fell to the ground, while Hugh ordered the +men to take their prisoner away. + +They obeyed, grinning shyly at each other, and now feeling assured that +no British spy was amongst them. + +Captain Southorn had stood motionless, looking at Dorothy in +unconcealed amazement. But her quick punishment of the fellow's insult +seemed to have a good effect upon Hugh Knollys, for his face now showed +much of its sunny good-nature. + +The sight of what she had done, no less than the sound of her voice, +had brought back the impetuous, wilful Dot of bygone days; and he found +himself thinking again of the little maid whose ears he boxed because +of the spilled bullets, years ago. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXV + +"Dorothy, speak,--what is it?" her brother demanded. "Hugh?" and he +turned questioningly, as Dorothy threw herself into his arms. + +"He called me a British spy," she sobbed, "and tried to shoot me!" + +He held her closer, while he listened to Hugh and Captain Southorn as +they told him of all that had passed. + +It appeared that Hugh, returning through the woods from his mission to +the outposts, had found a horse tied not far away from where they were +now standing. This struck him as something unusual; and looking about, +he noticed that the bushes were trampled and broken in a direction +which seemed to lead toward Washington's headquarters. + +Suspecting a possible spy, he had cautiously followed the plainly +marked way, and soon caught sight of a man dodging about, as if not +wishing to be seen, and so intent upon watching something in front of +him as to be quite unconscious of Hugh's approach. + +Stealing as close as possible, Hugh stood silent, now aware that the +man's attention was centred upon the regular pathway through the wood. + +Presently he saw him raise his gun, and feared it might be Washington +himself at whom he was aiming; for he knew the Commander-in-Chief was +to be abroad that morning, and he made no doubt that this was some +emissary of the enemy bent upon murdering him. + +Thinking only of this, Hugh had thrown himself upon the man, but too +late to prevent the discharge of the gun, although he succeeded in +diverting its aim. + +"And saved her life!" exclaimed Captain Southorn and John Devereux +together. + +Hugh uttered no word until Dorothy turned to him suddenly and took his +hand, while she looked up at him in a way that needed no speech. + +"Never mind, Dot," he said huskily. "You gave him a fine lesson, just +such as he deserved, and it does me good to think of it. Only, I'd +like to have done it myself." + +She blushed, and dropped his hand, stealing a sidewise glance at her +husband, who was looking at Hugh and herself. + +Jack was now about to speak; but Hugh started quickly, exclaiming, +"This will never do; I am forgetting my duty, and must hurry on and +make my report." + +"One second, Hugh," said Jack; "I have something to say to you." + +They walked along together, conversing in low tones, while Dorothy, +with a nervous little laugh, said to her husband, "Are you afraid of +me, now that you see the temper I possess?" + +"Nay, little one," he answered, drawing closer to her and taking her +hand. "You did nothing more than the circumstances richly provoked. +And," with a teasing laugh, "I do not forget a certain day, in another +wood, when my own cheek felt the weight of this same dainty hand's +displeasure." + +She looked a bit uncomfortable, and he hastened to add, "And I felt +afterward that I, too, received but my just deserts for my presumption." + +"I always wondered," she said, now smilingly, "what you could think of +a young lady who would rig herself up in her brother's raiment, to roam +about at night; and who would so far forget herself as to slap a +gentleman in the face,--and one of His Majesty's officers at that." + +He laughed. "Then you must know, sweet wife," he answered, as she +stood looking down, stirring the leaves with her boot tip, "that I only +loved you the better, if possible, for it all. It showed you to +possess a brave heart and daring spirit, such as are ever the most +loyal to the man a true woman loves. But for all those same acts of +yours, I'd not have dared to do as I did; but I felt that no other +course would lead you to follow the feeling I was sure I read in your +eyes." + +John Devereux, who had gone out to the roadway with Hugh, now called to +them. + +"Come, both of you," he said; "it is time to be off." + +"This must be our real good-by, little one." Captain Southorn glanced +about them, and then put his arm around Dorothy. "We shall both be +leaving shortly, and I cannot say good-by properly with a lot of other +folk about. Ah," with a shudder, and holding her up to his breast, +"when I think of what might have happened, had not your friend Hugh +come upon the scene, it makes it all the harder for me to let you go +again." + +"But there is no danger now," she said courageously; "the man is a +prisoner. But whatever could have put such a crazy idea into his +head?" she asked indignantly. + +"Did you never see him before?" her husband inquired. + +"Yes, at the Gray Horse Inn;" but her brother's voice, now calling +rather impatiently, cut short her story. + +"And will you come when I send word?" Captain Southorn asked. + +"Yes," she whispered. + +"Well, thank God it will be but a few days until then," he said, giving +her a parting kiss. "So for now, my wife,--my own little wife, adieu!" + +As they were taking their way to the house, Jack looked at his watch +and scowled a little as he saw the lateness of the hour. Then he +turned to Dorothy, and inquired, as her husband had done, in regard to +her knowledge of Farmer Gilbert. + +She told of all that Mary and herself had seen of him at the inn; and +her brother's quick perceptions put the facts together while he +listened. + +They found gathered before the house an unusual number of men, in +animated conversation; but as the three figures approached, they all +became silent, glancing at the new-comers in a way to indicate that the +recent occurrence had formed the subject of their discussion. + +Some of them now strolled away, while those who remained--all of them +connected with the headquarters--drew aside to let Lieutenant Devereux +and his companions pass. + +"Do you know if Sergeant Knollys is within, Harris?" Jack inquired, +addressing one of them. + +"Yes, I am quite sure you will find him inside." + +Turning to another of the men, Jack bade him have the horses brought at +once, and order the escort to be ready for immediate departure. + +"We shall have to hasten, Dot," he said hurriedly, as they went along +the hall. "And," addressing her husband, "Captain Southorn, I must now +turn you over to Captain Ireson." + +"Then I am not like to see you again," said the young Englishman, as he +extended his hand. + +"No, I should have gone to Boston with you, to escort Captain Pickett +on his return, but I have orders to see my small sister safely to the +house and care of our neighbor, Mistress Knollys." + +"And when are we to meet again?" + +He spoke earnestly, almost with emotion, for he had come to have a +strong affection for this handsome, high-spirited young Colonist, whose +face and manner so resembled Dorothy's. + +"Who can say?" asked Jack, sadly, as the two stood with clasped hands, +looking fixedly at one another. + +"Well, God grant that it be before long, and when our countries are at +peace," exclaimed Southorn. + +"Amen to that," answered Jack. "And," in a voice that trembled, "you +will always be good to--" The sentence was left unfinished, while his +arm stole about his sister's shoulders. + +"As God is my witness,--always," was the solemn reply. + +"And now, Dot," said her brother, with a contented sigh, and speaking +in a more cheerful tone, as if now throwing off all his misgivings, +"you must bid Captain Southorn farewell for a few days, and we will get +under way. But first I have to go with him and report to Captain +Ireson." + +She held out both hands to her husband, who bent over and pressed them +to his lips. + +"You will surely come when I send?" he asked softly. + +She nodded, looking up at him through her tears. + +In half an hour the party of soldiers, with Dorothy and her brother, +took the way to Dorchester, Hugh appearing at the last moment to say +farewell, as his duty called him in another direction. And it was not +long before a smaller party, bearing a flag of truce, set out with +Captain Southorn, to effect his exchange for Captain Pickett. + +The following day Farmer Gilbert was brought before General Washington, +who listened gravely to his attempted justification. Then, after a +stern rebuke, so lucid and emphatic as to enlighten the man's dull +wits, now made somewhat clearer by his confinement and enforced +abstinence, he was permitted to go his way. + +A week after this, little Mistress Southorn was escorted to the British +lines and handed over to her waiting husband; and a few days later, a +transport sailed, taking back to England some disabled officers and +soldiers, as well as a small number of royalists, who were forced to +leave the country for the one whose cause they espoused too openly. + +Dorothy was standing by the ship's rail, alone, her husband having left +her for a few minutes. She was busy watching the stir and bustle of +departure, when she recognized, in a seeming farmer who had come aboard +with poultry, the pedler, Johnnie Strings. + +The sight of his shrewd face and keen little eyes brought to her +mingled feelings of pleasure and alarm, and, wondering what his mission +could be, she hurried toward him. + +"Oh, Johnnie, is it safe for you to be here?" she exclaimed, as she +grasped his hand. + +"Sh-h, sweet mistress!" he said cautiously. "I won't be safe if ye +sing out in such fashion. Jest ye get that scared look off yer face, +while we talk nat'ral like, for the sake o' them as stands 'round. Ye +see I was the only one that could risk comin', an' I'm to carry back +the last news o' ye. But oh, Mistress Dorothy," and his voice took a +note of expostulation, "however had ye the heart to do it? But o' +course we all know 't was not really yer own doin', arter all. I tell +ye, mistress, that mornin' at the Sachem's Cave saw the beginnin' of a +sight o' mischief." + +She passed this by without comment, smiling at him kindly while she +gave him many parting messages for those at Dorchester, and for Aunt +Lettice and little 'Bitha, and all at the old house. + +The pedler promised to deliver them, and then looking into her face, he +sighed mournfully. + +"Aye, but 't is thankful I am, mistress, that yer old father ne'er +lived to see this day." + +"Oh, Johnnie, don't say that--how can you?" she cried impulsively. + +He saw the pained expression his words had brought, and added hastily, +as he drew the back of his hand across his eyes, "There, there, sweet +mistress, don't take my foolish words to heart, for my own is so sore +this day over all that's come to pass, an' that ye should be goin' away +like this, that I scarce know jest what I be sayin'." + +Before Dorothy could reply, she saw her husband approaching; and +Johnnie, seeing him as well, turned to go. + +"Won't you wait and speak to him?" she asked, a little shyly. + +"No, no, Mistress Dorothy," was his emphatic answer,--"don't ye ask +that o' me. I could n't stummick it--not I. God keep ye, sweet +mistress, an' bring ye back to this land some day, when we 've driven +out all the d----d redcoats." + +With this characteristic blessing, the pedler hastened away, and was +soon lost to sight amongst the barrels and casks piled about the wharf. + +A few hours later, Dorothy stood with her husband's arm about her, +watching through gathering tears the land draw away,--watching it grow +dim and shadowy, to fade at last from sight, while all about them lay +the purple sea, sparkling under the rays of the late afternoon sun. + +Her eyes lingered longest upon the spot in the hazy distance near where +she knew lay the beloved old home. + +"How far--how far away it is now," she murmured. + +"What, little one?" her husband asked softly. + +"I was thinking of my old home," she answered, surprised to have spoken +her thought aloud. "And," looking about with a shiver, "it seems so +far--so lonely all about us here." + +"Are you frightened or unhappy?" he asked, drawing her still closer to +him. + +She looked up with brave, loyal eyes, and answered, as had her +ancestress, Anne Devereux, when she and her young husband were about to +seek a new home in a strange, far-off land,-- + +"No--not so long as we be together." + + +Hugh Knollys fell--a Major in the Massachusetts line--during one of the +closing engagements of the war, and his mother did not long survive him. + +John Devereux passed through the conflict unharmed, and returned to the +farm, where he and Mary lived long and happily, with their children +growing up about them. + +They had each summer as their guests an Englishman and his wife--a +little, girl-like woman, whom every one adored--who crossed the sea to +pay them long visits. Sometimes the pleasant days found this +Englishman seated in the Sachem's Cave, his eyes wandering off over the +sea; and with him often would be Mary Broughton's eldest son, and +first-born--Jack, who had his Aunt Dorothy's curling locks and dark +eyes. + +The favorite story at such times, and one never tired of by either the +man or child, was that telling how in the great war his mother had +frightened a young English soldier so that he fell over the rocks, and +how, soon after this, a certain brave little maid had hurled the +burning lanterns from these same rocks, to save her brother and his +companions from danger. + +The youngster had first heard of all this from Johnnie Strings,--to the +day of his death a crippled pensioner on the Devereux farm--who never +seemed to realize that the war was over, and who had expressed marked +disapproval when 'Bitha, now tall and stately, had, following her +Cousin Dorothy's example, and quite regardless of her own long-ago +avowals, given her heart and hand to the nephew of this same British +soldier. + + +With this must end my story of the old town. But there is another +story,--that of its fisher and sailor soldiers, and it is told in the +deeds they have wrought. + +These form a goodly part of the foundation upon which rests the mighty +fabric of our nation. Their story is one of true, brave hearts; and it +is told in a voice that will be heard until the earth itself shall have +passed away. + +It was the men of Marblehead who stepped forward that bitter winter's +night on the banks of the Delaware, when Washington and his little army +looked with dismayed eyes upon the powerful current sweeping before +them, and which must be crossed, despite the great masses of ice that +threatened destruction to whosoever should venture upon its roaring +flood. They were the men who responded to his demand when he turned +from the menacing dangers of the river and asked, "Who of you will lead +on, and put us upon the other side?" + +The monument that commemorates the success at Trenton is no less a +tribute to the unflinching courage and sturdiness of the fishermen of +Marblehead, who made that victory possible. + +And, as there, so stands their record during all the days of the +Revolutionary struggle. Wherever they were--on land or water--in the +attack they led, in the retreat they covered; and through all their +deeds shone the ardent patriotism, the calm bravery, the unflinching +devotion, that made them ever faithful in the performance of duty. + + "When anything is done, + People see not the patient doing of it, + Nor think how great would be the loss to man + If it had not been done. As in a building + Stone rests on stone, and, wanting a foundation, + All would be wanting; so in human life, + Each action rests on the foregone event + That made it possible, but is forgotten, + And buried in the earth." + + +When the dawn of peace came, nowhere was it hailed with more exultant +joy than in Marblehead. + +Nowhere in all the land had there been such sacrifices made as by the +people of this little town by the sea. Many of those who had been +wealthy were now reduced to poverty,--their commerce was ruined, their +blood had been poured out like water. + +But for all this there was no complaining by those who were left, no +upbraiding sorrow for those who would never return. There was only joy +that the struggle was ended, and independence achieved for themselves +and the nation they had helped to create. And down the long vista of +years between their day and our own, the hallowed memory of their +loyalty shines out as do the lights of the old town over the night sea, +whose waves sing for its heroes a fitting requiem. + + + + +THE END + + + + + + +UP AND DOWN THE SANDS OF GOLD + +_A PRESENT-DAY NOVEL_ + + +BY MARY DEVEREUX + +Author of "From Kingdom to Colony" and "Lafitte of Louisiana." + +12mo. Decorated Cloth. $1.50. + + +A love story, told with delicacy and grace.--_Brooklyn Times_. + +Humor and pathos, love and adventure, abound throughout the work. +Spicy incidents are plentiful.--_Atlanta Constitution_. + +Margaret Leslie is a heroine who deserves a place in Mr. Howells' +gallery of immortal heroines in fiction.--_Rochester Herald_. + +Margaret Leslie's brave service in the battle with self is as +attractive as the patriotic deeds of Mary Devereux's former +heroine.--_New York Times Saturday Review_. + +The story is one of sunshine and shade, of smiles and tears. The +author has created for us a little company of people whom we learn to +love, and from whom it is hard to part.--_Boston Transcript_. + +The book is charmingly written, the style pure and strong, and the play +of native wit engaging.--_Outlook_, New York. + +A genius for depicting character in a telling way, and in a style that +is charming as well as pungent, is one of Mary Devereux's strongest +points.--_Rocky Mountain News_, Denver. + +It is a positive treat to read such a pure, sweet story,--a genuine +story of natural men and women in a seashore town in New +England.--_Buffalo Commercial_. + + +LITTLE, BROWN, & CO., Publishers + +254 Washington Street, Boston, Massachusetts + + +NEW & POPULAR FICTION + + +LAFITTE OF LOUISIANA + +By MARY DEVEREUX. Illustrated by Harry C. Edwards. + +12mo. 427 pages. $1.50. + +The remarkable career of Jean Lafitte during the French Revolution and +the War of 1812, and the strange tie between this so-called "Pirate of +the Gulf" and Napoleon Bonaparte, is the basis of this absorbing and +virile story,--a novel of love and adventure written by a skilled hand. + +This work is one of the most ambitious of its class, and it has in the +introduction of Napoleon as Lafitte's guardian angel a picturesque +feature which makes it of rather unusual interest.--_Philadelphia +Record_. + + +_By the Same Author_ + +FROM KINGDOM TO COLONY. Illustrated by Henry Sandham. 12mo. $1.50. + +UP AND DOWN THE SANDS OF GOLD. 12mo. $1.50. + + +THE GOD OF THINGS + +By FLORENCE BROOKS WHITEHOUSE. Illustrated by the author. 12mo. 288 +pages. $1.50. + +Of this novel of modern Egypt the _Philadelphia Telegraph_ says: "It is +a tale of fresh, invigorating, unconventional love, without the usual +thrilling adventures. It is wholesome, although daring, and through +its pages there vibrates a living spirit such as is only found in a few +romances." + +The _Boston Herald_ says: "Engages the attention of the reader from the +skill shown in the handling of the subject,"--divorce. + + +THE GOLDEN WINDOWS + +A Book of Fables for Old and Young. By LAURA E. RICHARDS, author of +"Captain January," "The Joyous Story of Toto," etc. With illustrations +and decorations by Arthur E. Becher and Julia Ward Richards. 12mo. +$1.50. + +This charming book will be a source of delight to those who love the +best literature. The stories are so simple and graceful that they +suggest Tolstoi at his best, and the moral attached to each fascinating +tale is excellent. Mrs. Richards' charm of style pervades this unique +collection of stories. The book is handsomely embellished. + + +THE AWAKENING OF THE DUCHESS + +By FRANCES CHARLES, author of "In the Country God Forgot," "The Siege +of Youth," etc. With illustrations in color by I. H. Caliga. 12mo. +$1.50. + +Frances Charles, the author of "In the Country God Forgot," writes in +an entirely new vein in her latest book, the best that this talented +young author has written. It is a pretty and touching story of a +lonely little heiress, Roselle, who called her mother, a society +favorite, "the Duchess"; and the final awakening of a mother's love for +her own daughter. + + +THE COLONEL'S OPERA CLOAK + +By CHRISTINE C. BRUSH. New Edition. Illustrated by E. W. Kemble. +12mo. $1.50. + +This favorite story is now issued in a new and attractive form, with +artistic renderings of its principal characters and scenes by E. W. +Kemble, the celebrated artist of negro character. This bright, clever, +and entertaining book is a story with a very novel idea, that of making +the "Colonel's Opera Cloak" the hero. + + +A DAUGHTER OF THE RICH + +By M. E. WALLER, author of "The Little Citizen." Illustrated. 12mo. +$1.50. + +A delightful book, telling the story of a happy summer in the Green +Mountains of Vermont and a pleasant winter in New York. Two of the +characters are Hazel Clyde, the daughter of a New York millionaire, and +Rose Blossom, a Vermont girl. The book is replete with interesting +conversation and bright incident. + + +A ROSE OF NORMANDY + +By WILLIAM R. A. WILSON. Illustrated by Ch. Grunwald. 12mo. $1.50. + +No more entertaining character has stalked through the pages of any +recent novel than that of Henri de Tonti, gentleman, soldier, courtier, +gallant--the Intrepid hero of countless adventures, but withal the true +and constant man and lover.--_Baltimore American_. + + +LOVE THRIVES IN WAR + +A Romance of the Frontier in 1812. By MARY CATHERINE CROWLEY, author +of "A Daughter of New France," etc. Illustrated. 12mo. $1.50. + +To a fine historical background, rich with incident and romance, Miss +Crowley has added her own originality, her wonderful descriptive +powers, in short her gift of story-telling, and has obtained a +brilliant and entertaining result. The whole story is crowded with +exciting events, tender love scenes, and brilliant +description.--_Louisville Courier-Journal_. + + +A DETACHED PIRATE + +By HELEN MILECETE. With illustrations in color by I. H. Caliga. 12mo. +$1.50. + +There is the sparkle of champagne in Helen Milecete's latest book. Gay +Vandeleur is the pirate, detached by a divorce court, and her first +name is no misnomer--not a bit of it.--_Chicago Evening Post_. + +One of the clever books of the season.--_Philadelphia North American_. + + +THE SHADOW OF THE CZAR + +By JOHN R. CARLING. Illustrated. 12mo. $1.50. + +A romance of the sturdy, wholesome sort, in which the action is never +allowed to drag.--_St. Louis Globe-Democrat_. + +Excels in interest Anthony Hope's best efforts.--_Boston Herald_. + + +LITTLE, BROWN, & COMPANY, _Publishers_ + +254 WASHINGTON STREET BOSTON, MASSACHUSETTS + + + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of From Kingdom to Colony, by Mary Devereux + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FROM KINGDOM TO COLONY *** + +***** This file should be named 34232.txt or 34232.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/4/2/3/34232/ + +Produced by Al Haines + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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