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HoitOon MACMILLAN AND CO. 1883 ^« 7 m 2?3170 til II I (I ''''""'''^^R-&K. Clark K, Edinburgh. © CONTENTS. CIIAPTEn I. The Fair American . II. A Fire-eater III. The Course of True Love IV. A Storm in a Tea-cup V. The Mohawks VI, Compliments at Parting VII. Travelling Companions VIII. " I Lack Opportunity " IX. Birds of 111 Omen . X. Mountain Roads XI. Some Painful Passages in the Experience of Lieutenant Digby . XII. The Boston Port-bill XIII. Lieutenant Digby asks for Leave XIV. Noble Savages XV. *' Fruitfulest Virginia " XVL Armies in the Clouds I'ACK 1 9 20 27 30 33 38 45 48 56 61 70 74 78 82 85 'f vi I! \ii W \',i n„„,a CONTENTS. ^^"- Day. in Arcrfia J^ing Phil,,, Is coming. M ^^^- "Wolf. ;7,if_,„ ^^- ^ S''^t«rly Embrace ^^X^- An Oration in the Old South ^XII. A Lantern in the Oh, ^orth ^^^^HI. "ARasticRout^ithC.!,- .^ Vpieee.^, "^^^^^ ^•^'- ^-clcs and Po.,- ^XIV. A Gentleman from Virginia* ' ' XXV. Bunker's Hill XXVI. The Sergeant «„.,p,,', , „„; XXVII. Captain Di^bv ne^f XXVIII. Treats of .J , ^" ""'^'^''^™' ""'.v • Treat, of the alamnung of » Door XXIX. The Way to Gior,- . XXX. The Blockade of Boston ' ' XXXI. Platbush XXXn.TheOHBe„ofIn,e,e„<,ene: ' XXXIII. The B«, Of,,, ,,^^.^^^^,_ • XXXIV A Painted Rose XXXV Households divided XXXVII. Confused Noises XXXVIII. The Return f,„,„ e,„^^. Paor 89 96 101 106 109 112 117 121 124 131 138 142 150 156 165 174 178 183 188 193 203 210 <1 Fowl. Diit .V PAOR 89 CONTENTS. fiiAP- n xxxrx. :h. • 165 • 174 178 183 188 193 203 CJeeek joins Greek . . A Hapless Lover . A Bold stroke Philadelphia • • , A Man born to coniniand General Arnold withdraws his Resignation Sir John Burgoyne puts on his Armour The Relief of Fort Stanwix . Freeman's Farm • « Lieutenant Perkins takes a gloomy View of the Situation A Reconnoitring Party General Arnold does something Rash vu 213 217 22(1 234 239 246 251 256 203 267 272 277 210 Tsr 1 A GEEAT ITtEASON. CHAPTER I. THM FA in AMEIUCAS: Now, aforo licavcn, 'tis .shaiue huch wrongs are boriio. KlNli lUciIAHD II. '' Ef the Lord will, I\Ia'ain, in five luiiiutes more we shall be in iMa.s.sac!iii.sett.s Bay." It was about noon of the 15th of December i.. the year of ^Tace 1773, and the snow, Fair American, Captain Eliphah't Uar.l, with a cargo of hemp and three passengers, was just off tape Cod. The low sandhills were half veiled in a lirother of yours mis ■ be — enough to set the Provinces in a blaze ! " " My brother Jasper is no fire-eater " began Branxholm eagerly. Then he stopped himself, seemed to hesitate, and said at last, more gravely than Bliss Digby thought possible to so lively a temperament, — "My brother Jasper is a man of so thoughtful and philosophic a turn, Miss Digby, so disposed to impartiality — so apt to see that a question hath two sides to it — in short, so extraordinary fearful of forming a hasty or unjust judgement, that I confess his change of mind hath staggered me. I do not yet despair, as he seems to do, of a happy issue ; but if he be right, there's but one side I can take." "I hope that is the side of your King, Mr. Branxholm." " God forbid I should ever have to choose !" cried Branxholm, a dark flush on his cheek. " But if I must — if I must choose between my country's just rights and liberties, and any other thing in this world soever, why, then, I must needs choose my country I " 6 A GREAT TREASON. [chap. f- ( Miss Digby looked at Inm ; she was troubled and per- plexed, and could think of nothing better to say than,—" But, sure, Mr. Branxholm, you are an Englishman, and England is your country 1 " " If England is my grandmother, America is my mother," lie said — and Miss Digby noted that he was almost repeating certain words out of his brother Jasper's letter, which he had shown her. " I was born here — my lot is cast here ; but, besides that, I do believe from my heart that in this matter the Colonies are in the right, and the British ministry is in the wrong." "I contend in vain with Mr. Jasper Fleming," said the yoiuig lady in a piqued tone. *' But pray, if he be so great a philosopher, so used to weighing a matter, and so slow to pro- nounce a judgement, what hath of a sudden brought him to so sharp a conclusion 1 " " Can you ask. Madam 1 Those letters of Hutchinson's and Oliver's " " It was a most unfortunate circumstance that such letters should have been written," — began the Lieutenant; but Captain Ward, having given his orders, came up at this instant, and interrupted him once more. " Say, a pity they was discovered, Mr. Digby — I guess that's nearer what you mean, sir ! And I guess the Lords and Com- mons over to England would like to see Benjamin Franklin's gray head set up on Temple Bar for the share he had in that there unfort'nit discovery. But, thank the Lord, we know our enemies now ! " " At any rate, Captain Ward, you know that the King is not your enemy," said Miss Digby, turning to the Captain with an irresistible persuasion in her smile. But before he could reply, a sudden light blazed up from the ship's side, and was almost immediately answered by another, flashing over the fast- darkening sea, from just below a twinkling paler gleam, which the Captain had told his passengers was the light at the entrance to Boston harbour. " That's the signal for the pilot," said Branxholm. " The entrance is very ticklish — so narrow, that between the two islands two ships can scarce pass abreast ; but once inside, the greatest ship may ride sale — ay, and need not heed the fiercest gale ; and yet. Miss Digby, such winds and waves beat on these shores, that, could you see the islands among which we must I.] THE FAIR AMERICAN. was fast- vvhich ranee "The two the lercest these must i 4 presently grope our way, you would perceive that all their northern sides are so worn down, they seem like half-islands, and year by year the more exposed of them grow more barren. But on the mainland 'tis fertile enough, though not like Virginia." "You will allow nothing to be like Virginia, I see, Mr, Branxholm," said the young lady, still with a slight touch of pique in her voice. " You will forgive my partiality, Madam, when you see Virginia — but hark ! whrt is that ] I could swear I heard bells " They listened ; but though they all agreed that the tolling of a bell seemed to come now and then on the wind, the sound was too inextricably mingled with other sounds of wind and waves — creaking cordage, flapping foresail — now hanging loose, as the ship was put about, to wait for the pilot — the dash of waves under her bows, — and now and then a sea-bird's scream. " I could swear I heard it booming, and that 'twas the bell of the old Brick Meeting," said Branxholm again. "But however that may be, I do most certainly hear the sound of rowlocks — the pilot is coming off from Lighthouse-Island." As he spoke, another flare-up lighted the gray mistiness which every moment drew closer and darker around them. The pilot-boat was near enough now for those aboard the snow to see the rowers, and to see also two men sitting in the stern. Then all faded out again, and in that instant night seemed to have settled down upon the sea. All the passengers hurried to where the Captain stood, a little abaft the waist, giving orders for the ladder to be lowered, and for the ship's head to be kept in the wind's eye. " Darn yer ! " roared the Captain ; " can't ye keep her steady 1 We shall swamp the boat, if ye don't look alive ! " " Ship ahoy ! " cried a voice out of the darkness. " What ship 1 " ^^ Fair American, Eliphalet Ward, from Bristol," shouted the Captain through his speaking - trumpet. " Are you a pilot r' " Ay, ay," was bellowed back, in tones so stentorian that, as Lieutenant Digby remarked to his sister, this might have been Father Neptune himself, come with a train of Tritons to overhaul the ship's log. In another minute or so. Father Neptune, if it were he, became visible as a stalwart figure, magnified by the mist into ip SUP 8 A GREAT TREASON. [fiiAr. I* : i h 11 li> M ilj if.' i «f colossal proportions, looming out of the night, {lud seeming to be bound like Ulysses to his own mast. " Haul up the fores'l ! " shouted Captain Ward. " Keep her helm down ! " Thus brought- to against the wind, the good ship strained, and groaned, and pitched not a little. But tliose in the pilot-boat made nothing of scrambling up a ship's side on a dark night ; and the pilot was presently on deck, followed by another man, and the rowers were putting back for the lighthouse. "Ebenezer Gunnell, ain't it?" said the Caiotain, shaking hands with the pilot — a short thick-set man, now that he was on deck, with a fur cap drawn ever his ears. " What cheer, brother?" " Good cheer, brother — the very best of cheer — liberty, brother!" returned the pilot, in a voice as stout as himself, albeit somewhat hoarse with shouting down the north wind. " Is that so ?" asked the Captain slowly. " That's so, skijiper. Massachusetts has made up her mind, and you bet, that whatever stcerin' orders Massachusetts gives, the whole fleet'Il foller. We've had nigh on to eight year o' talkin' an' argufyin', an' now we're a-goin' to hev a year or two o' actin' an' doin'. May be less'n eight year'll do for that — actin' don't take nigh so long as talkin'. Sam Adams " here the speaker broke off suddenly, in obedience to a well-directed kick on the shin from Captain Ward, who observed drily, — "Think j'cr can take us in to-night, Ebe? I've got passengers — Lcf-tenant Digby, a British officer, and his sister, and young Mr. Branxholm of Virginia — and they're all in an all-fired hurry to sec their friends." The hiuo contained in this remark checked, as it was in- tended to do, any further political revelations on the part of Mr. Gunnell, who only said, — *'Wa-al, skipper, I'll try. But Mr. Branxholm needn't wait, he needn't, till we get to Boston, to see his friends, for one o' the best of 'em's come off with me." Here the pilot modulated his voice to what might by courtesy be called a marine whisper, in which he said a hoarse word or two in the skipper's ear, and forthwith proceeded to take command of the ship ; and for a long time to come he was only to be heard bellowing such brief orders as, — " Starboard one pint!" "Shift your helm!" "Lay her up closer!" "Brace the yards !" and so forth. II.] A FIRE-EATER. CHAPTER II. A FIRE-EATEl?. Jlussell. Lot ns have done ■with looking hack, I pray, And iiold our faces t'.irned the way we go. Loud and Lady Russell. No sooner had Captain Ward mentioned the name of young ]\lr. Branxliolm, than the person who had hitherto been stand- iwj; unnoticed behind tlie pilot (and who, Avearing a bear-skin jacket and a sailor's dutch-cap, might well have passed fur a pilot's mate) turned hastily, and exclaimed, " i\Ir. Branxholm 1 Where is he 1 " "Here!" cried Branxholm, springing forward. "Jasper! my dearest brother, can it be you'?" His arms were round the stranger's neck, and he was re- ceiving a t: dy bear-like embrace from the wearer of the bear- skin, before he coidd well get out the words. " This is luck indeed, or fate — if, indeed, it be not rather Providence," said the new-comer^ drawing Branxholm a])art from the others. " My dearest boy, I cannot see your face clear enough to know if you are changed, but the voice is still the voice of my brother Xoel." "And the heart is the heart of thy brother, too, dear Jasper," cried the other. " Oh, what happiness to be at home and to touch a kindred hand once again ! But how come you here? This is witchcraft, surely !" "Nay, for I did not know 'twas your ship. I had an errand to-night to the lighthouse, and finding some difii';ulty about returning, persuaded Gunnell to bring me off with him. We saw you just before sundown, and Gunnell swore you was a Boston ship— I should hardly have cared to find myself aboard a transi)ort." Jasper said this in a tone between jest and earnest, and then asked more gravely, — " Wiio is the British officer ? Lieutenant 1" "Digby. They are people quite out of the common, I assure you, brother," said Noel eagerly. " I met them in England, and by the greatest good fortune was able to make the voyage in the same ship. Lieutenant Digby has lately exchanged into the 29th Foot " 10 A GREAT TREASON. [chap. ^1 i! I' I' I' I' I i\ " Captain Preston's regiment ! " interrupted Jasper. " I daresay lie did not choose it for that reason," said Noel, rather testily. " He exchanged because family affairs make it necessary he should visit the Colonies, where he has relations. He is, besides, distantly related to ourselves — that is, the English branch of the Randolphs is connected by marriage with the Digbys. Let me present you, brother ; you will, I'm sure, find them as charming as I do. The Lieutenant may have some British prejudices — 'tis but natural he should — but he is a fine generous young man, and his sister " " Well, what of his sister ?" asked Jasper drily, as Noel paused. "His sister is a young woman whom all men must admire " "I seldom admire the women that men run after," said Jasper somewhat curtly. " Jasper ! I protest you are strangely altered, and grown strangely unjust, to judge a woman whose face you have never so much as seen ! " cried his brother reproachfully. "She may be endowed with all the graces and virtues combined, for aught I know, my dear boy," returned Jasper, " but she is certainly not worth my quarrelling with you about her the first hour I see you again after three years. Let her pass. I was never much of a dangler at young women's apron-strings, as you may remember. I have no sweetheart, nor am like to have any, but my mother. Perhaps she has made me hard to please ; I have heard 'tis so when sons have uncommon mothers. And for the lady's face, it chanced that I was so fortunate as to see it the instant I set foot on deck — the lantern shone full upon her, which was the reason I did not see instantly a face my eyes desired much more." " How good you are to me, dear Jasper," said Noel, caress- ing the furry arm linked in his own. The difference in their ages — though only four or five years — had combined with the difference of their characters to invest the relations between these brothers with peculiar tenderness. Jasper had been accus- tomed to protect and lead, and Noel, on his side, almost adored. On the present occasion, however, but little time was given to mere protestations of affection. As soon as Jasper had replied in answer to his brother's questions, that his father and mother had not come to Boston, as they had intended — Colonel Branx- i i Hi A FIRE-EATER. 11 holm being very uneasy in consequence of a serious Indian scare, and his ■wife refusing to leave him, — as soon, I say, as these questions had been answered, and Jasper had added that many of the Virginian gentlemen were trying to get Colonel Washington to organise the defence, as lie liad done before — ho glanced round, to make sure they were not overheard, and said ill his brother's car, grasping his arm more firmly as he spoke ; " Noel, the die will be cast to-morrow. AVhich side do you take 1 " The Enchanter's Mirror, wherein the inquirer saw reflected the vision of the future, is but a fanciful statement of a very common experience. There is perhaps no one — how prosaic and unimaginative soever — who has not known this lifting of the veil, and fomid Mmself on a sudden, as it were, besieged by the future — hemmed in, pressed hard, Ijy a thousand things — people, events, long spaces of years, idle fiincies, inevitable results — all crowding in on him in wild confusion, but all real. At the instant that Jasper put his question, " Which side do you take 1" it seemed to Noel that a vast and terrible panorama unrolled itself before his eyes, as clear as the view from the Blue Ridge of his own Virginia, which he knew so well. He had heard the words, "Rights of the Colonies," "Charters," " Resistance," spoken in all the varying tones of remonstrance, contempt, and indignation, by friend and foe, on the American Continent and in England, for eight long years ; but never before this moment had the words Mien on his ear like drops of molten fire. Now, in one never-to-be-forgotten instant, he realised that they might mean smoking towns and wasted fields, friends and neighbours arrayed against each other, life- long friendships broken and perhaps quenched in blood, and lo\e that might-have-been, turned to irreconcilable enmity. All these terrible possibilities sprang suddenly into probabilities, nay, into certainties, as Jasper said — " to-morrow." To-morrow, Noel, you must decide. From henceforth you have done with mere opinion and theory. Here are the cross- roads. Which will you take 1 You believe that your country's cause is morally and legally just, and most of the best men you know think so too. Justice and law, and the manifest interests of the Colonies are on one side. On the other, there is nothing to be urged but to yoiu* country the risk of failure — and to yoiu-self the loss of a woman whose love you dream of gaining, and to whom you must to-morrow seem a rebel, unless to your own conscience you are content to be a recreant this night ! 'fi n: 12 A GREAT TREASON. [chap. All thi.s, jumI much more, was in Jasper's question, and Noel knew it. " No, no !" he cried — so loud that Miss Dif,4)y heard him as she was going down the companion-ladder into the cabin. " I must stand by my country, come what may !" " Thank God !" said Jasper, relaxing the iron grip he had kept of his brother's arm, and seeming almost overcome for an instant. " You made me tremble, Noel. I feared " "What, brother r' " Perhaps I should not say it — but this is a quarrel which will set house against house, l)rother against brother. Count the cost, Noel, for once embarked in it there can be no drawing l)ack but with dishonour ! I feared for yov just now, because — 'twas but an instant's glimpse — but I saw that Miss Digby has a pair of fine eyes — such eyes as they say can draw a man from his duty and make a traitor of him against his will." "I never saw such eyes!" said Noel, his hot young Vir- ginian lilood all aflame at this praise of his mistress, " not even in Virginia ! A man might be content to die, to win a tear, or even a smile from them ; but be sure, brother Jasper, they shall never make a traitor of me. Althea Digby might hate a rebel, but she would scorn a traitor." Neither of the brothers spoke for some minutes. The ship was safe past the narrows, and was threading her way among the innumerable islands. The wind had shifted, and they were making good way. " Come below," said Jasper, suddenly turning from the gunwale, against which he had been leaning — lost, it seemed, in thought. " Come below. We shall be private, I sui)pose, in the cabin ? I have much to tell you, and little time to tell it in." Down in the cabin, by the light of a hanging oil-lamp, Jasper produced several letters and newspapers — the Boston Evening Post, the Massachusetts Spy, the Boston Gazette, and others. As Noel hastily ran his eye over them, he was astounded at the signs he everywhere found of the determina- tion to resist. It was already known, even in England, that the ladies of several of the States had agreed to wear only articles of native manufacture, — in order to at once encom-age trade on the Continent and disappoint the British revenue- officers. But the duty on tea was the centre of attack. From first to last of this unhappy contest, nothing is more sadly con- I , t n.l A FIRE EAT EK. 13 and i i spicuous than the persistent refusal of the British Guvern- nient to so much as try to understand the situatinii. Ameri- can Independence is u monument to all ages of tliat British pigheadedness, that umeasoninfj prejudice, on ■\vhicii we pride ourselves still, despite International Exhibitions and Cook's Tours. Before the old French War, the Colonists lookeoor Braddock sneered at for presuming to teach a British General how to fight, were as sensitive as the nicest British otlicer — incredible and incomprehensible as this appeared to the said British officers. Nay, that very Provincial l3uskin whose warnings Braddock rejected, said, on a certain memorable occa- sion, of which this narrative will speak more hereafter, that the profession of a soldier was " the chastest of all." Having thus laid the fii'e, the British Government, by the hand of Charles Townsheud (who seized the opportunity when his great chief was down with the gout), proceeded to set light to it. The Stamp Act, as every one knows, was an igno- minious failure — it was at once outwitted and defied. Every one of those unused stamps was as a fiery spark falling among gunpowder — or rather, as a seed of thistle-down, carried by the winds of heaven, and springing up in hatred and resistance wherever it fell. The tax itself was repealed, but the obnoxious principle was maintained — the right to impose new taxes with- out any compensating privileges, and in contravention of the Charters. The free Colonists saw themselves suddenly placed on an inequality with the rest of their fellow-subjects — those very fellow-subjects who were always singing, " Britons never shall be slaves !" The Colonists were for the most part of the same indomitable British blood, and should they be slaves 1 " Never ! " cried all these papers and letters which Jasper was showing his brother. " We stand out for the principle ; I I il I 14 A GREAT TREASON. [en. VI', wliat is the use of telling u.s that these teas are to be sold cheaper here than they are in England 1 Tiie duty on them is the symhol of rights we do not acknowledge — tlic thin end of the wedge of a wiiole system of oppression — aiid we will never pay it !" This was the burden of all that Xoel read — of the ladies' meeting, at which they all promised to drink no tea — and of those great meetings in Fanueil Hall, at which it was discussed how to prevent the landing of these " detested teas," now lying unshipped in Boston harbour. Even the tradesmen openly espoused the popular side. Cyrus Baldwin, the grocer on Cornhill, in advertising some choice Bohea and Souchong (to be sold at eighteen shillings a pound, lawful money), was careful to add that " the above was imported before any of the East India Company's teas arrived." And the people of Newport went so far as to declare that any one who should give more than four -and -sixpence a pound, lawful money, for the best Bohea, "should be deemed an enemy to this country." Any disaffection to the cause brought down prompt and unpleasant notice. Some one had written to the Evening Post, to say that certain shopkeepers in Boston, " finding that tea is likely to be expunged from our dietetic alphabet, have raised their coffee two or three coppers per pound," and to suggest that tar and feathers may be "a constitutional encouragement for such eminent patriotism." In the midst of this, Captain Ward came down to drink a parting glass with his passengers. The Lieutenant was with him, and Noel introduced his brother, who bowed somewhat stiffly. Just then Miss Digby came from the inner cabin. It did not escape Noel that she was paler than usual, and a wild hope sprang up in him that she perhaps regretted that the voyage was over. " Allow me. Miss Digby, to present my brother, Mr. Jasper Fleming, of Boston," he said. " He is not quite in trim to-night for the company of ladies, but we are all travellers, and can make allowance for travelling-gear." While Noel wis speaking, Jasper had taken off the great pilot's-cap, which he had not hitherto removed, and was bowing to the lady. The light was very indifferent, being furnished by the smoky lamp which swung from the ceiling, but it sufficed to show Miss Digby a young man of perhaps five or six-and-twenty, tall and apparently rather slender, though the bear-skin left this point uncertain. His face was somewhat too \ '■ n.l A FIRE-EATER. 16 sitle. le great Ibowing rnished Ibut it five or |gh the hat too ]i)\\,<: for symmetry, and \m features were rather strong thnn reyuhir. Jasper was wont to say tliat his nose was erookeil, !iii(l would sometimes complain that this circumstanci s[)oileil his lu'auty. The nose in ([uestiuu was long but not ill-formed, and if it had a slight twist in its direction, this was but just enough to impart a half-critical, half-humorous expression to a countenance which might otherwise have been rather stern. But there was no sternness in Jasper's eyes. They might liave been the eyes of a woman — tliey were gray, clear, and limpid, and expressed every mood of their owner's soul. They would have redeemed much homelier features than his. Apart from the eyes, the foce was strong and thoughtful ; but the eyes could make it seem anything — they could flame with in- dignation, and gleam with contempt, and soften into indescrib- able tenderness when Jasper looked on little children — who seemed to know that he loved them, for they would always go to him and twine their small fingers round his. His hair — a light broAvn, with no curl in it — was to-night neither powdered nor covered by the tie-wig then usually worn by gentlemen, and which was extremely becoming to Jasper's rather fair complexion. He was altogether seen to great dis- advantage ; Ijut even beside the richer colouring and more regular features of his half-brother, Miss Digby was compelled to own to herself that he had an interesting countenance, and could not be dismissed as a provincial boor. Even in that rough dress he appeared unmistakably a gentleman, and he had the same beautiful hands which Althea had often admired in his brother, but more nervous and sensitive. His manners, too, had nothing unpolished about them, and a certain simplicity which distinguished them, made them appear rather the ex- pression of innate good breeding than the artificial result of training. Jasper had not spoken, but his silence struck Althea as the silence of a man who ivill not speak. She was piqued, and resolved that this fire-eating brother of Mr. Branxholm's should epeak. She had already conceived a violent dislike to him ; J)ut her dislike was combined with a restless ' i xiety to con- vince him that she was not the woman he took her for — for Althea had overheard the warning which Jasper had addressed to his brother, and had been deeply incensed thereby. "We are infinitely indebted to your brother, Mr. Fleming," ■he said, raising those fine hazel eyes to his face (and finding it i m ■■:S-' 16 A CHEAT TREASON, [('IIAI'. II 1 1 1 i M' 'Jr cnrioiisly difficult to keep them fixed there) ; "he lias wonder- fully enlivened the tedium of the voyage ; and has besides pleaded the cause of the malcontents with such eloquence, that ho has made me wish more earnestly than ever that all these unhappy misinidcrstandings may quickly be adjusted to every- body's satisfiict.'on." Jasper bowed again. " You cannot wish it more earnestly, Madam, than we all do," he said. Without having the Captain's Yankee twang, there was just enough peculiarity in the quality and intonation of his voice to give it novelty in Miss Digby's ears — and novelty is always interesting. " I am glad to hear you say so, Mr. Fleming," she replied, smiling. " I was afraid I should find you quite a rebel." " If we are ever rebels, 'twill be because we are made so," said Jasper quickly. There was a hint of defiance in his tone — or so, at least, the Lieutenant fancied, and he bristled instantly, like a true-born Briton. " In that case you would not be rebels long ! " he cried, the blood mantling in his fair face ; "if it came to that, we should make short work of you ! " Lieutenant Digby was heartily ashamed as soon as he had uttered this bravado — not that he doubted for an instant the irresistibleness of the British arms, but he felt that his ardour was juvenile, and he had a painful consciousness of being very young, and a huge desire to appear manly and self-possessed. He, too, had from the moment of beholding him conceived a violent antagonism to Jasper Fleming, and he did not love him the better for having been the cause of his making a fool of himself, by taking the thing so much in earnest. Jasper merely looked at him (Digby fancied his eyes twinkled, and became still more wrathful), and said quietly ; " I hope, Mr. Digby, for both om' sakes, that it never will come to that." Jasper did not reciprocate Digby's dislike. He was rather taken with the young fellow — the Lieutenant was the same age as Noel, but looked much more boyish — Jasper thought he had a good ingenuous countenance, and, for Noel's sake, did not wish to quarrel with him. " Well, of course," said Digby, with a superhuman attempt at lofty indificrence, "'taint likely as it ever should." " I fear our misunderstandings go too deep to be as easily K Hi [CIIAP. ; wonder- i besides iuce, that all these to every- LU we all se twang, ntonation d novelty e replied, cl." made so," , at least, , true-born he cried, ) that, we as he had istant the lis ardour being very -possessed. )nceived a ; love him a fool of ir.] A FIRE-EATER. 17 1 his eyes quietly ; will come vas rather same age I'ht he had did not ,n attempt e as easily adjusted as Miss Digby hopes," observed Jasper. "But I trust in God they will never eome to so terrible an issue as you, sir, hint at. That would be a misfortune second only to the one which now threatens us." Jasper spoke with perfect self-possession and courtesy, but also with a calm conviction which made the young officer still more ashamed of having been betrayed into so boyish a bluster. He was much relieved when Captain "Ward broke in, by saying in his most pronounced Yankee drawl, — *' "Wa-al, friends, seems like as it's most time the vy'ge was over, since our tempers seems to kinder want re-fitt'n. Hows' ever, we've had a happy an' prosp'rous vy'ge, an' I'll give ye a toast afore we part. May neither we nor any one else ever be sorry as this here vy'ge was made !" The Captain nodded all round, and solemnly drank off half a glass of toddy, while tlic others pledged him back in the measures which he had been hospitably mixing for them. Miss Digby took up the glass which the Captain had pushed over to her, and just touching it with her lips, said, — " I shall propose one more toast — Good luck to Captain Ward and the Fair American, and may he carry a better cargo next voyage 1 " " Thank ye, Ma'am," returned the Captain. " That'll be as the Lord wills, and as times turns out. But it strikes me as it'll be a long while afore a Boston ship carries any more tea into Boston harbour," he added to Jasper, when his passengers had gone to get their packages together. And Jasper replied, in a very meaning tone, "I think so too." As the ship approached the wharf, her progress was very slow. Tlie shipping which lay at the different wharves could he dindy traced in the darkness, by the lights which swung here and there in their rigging ; and even in the darkness the masts could be seen rising like little forests — so thick lay the vessels. It was reckoned that on Long Wharf alone fifty ships could unlade at once. As the calendar gave a moon, the lamps were not lighted in the town, and the line of King Street, leading up from Long Wharf, could be only imperfectly traced by a few lamps behmging to private houses. Noel pointed out to Miss Digby as much as could be seen. "The State House is at the top of the street," he said; " the house you are going to is a handsome red-brick mansion VOL. I. (J m r ■■9BHB 18 A GREAT TREASON. [chap. *i '. . » * ■I I \i • i half-way up King Street, and Uncle ileming's house is just opposite." Now that the parting moment was at hand, Xoel was aware of a painful depression. In a few moments more, the delightful familiarity and nearness of the voyage would he over. P'or five weeks he had not only seen Miss Digby every day, but no one else had seen her — no one, that is, ex(!ept Captain Ward, and the crew, and the lady's own brother. Whereas, in Boston, it would be as much as he could decently venture, to call once a week or so, and to contrive tc meet her now and then on the Pier — the liveliness of wdiich as a public promenade he had several times casually mentioned. And she would l)e sur- rounded, to a dead certainty, by every young and middle-aged jackanapes of a King's officer in Boston. This prospect had appeared sufficiently dismal a few days ago, — but Noel would now have been thankful for it. For the news which Jasper had brought rendered it necessary that he should imme- diately set out for Virginia — since even love must be content to Avait, if there were any fear of an Indian outbreak. Noel had been explaining this to Miss Digby, and had said as much as he dared of the disappointment it would be to him to leave Boston, just when he most wdshed to remain there. "But I hojie soon to return," he said. "If Colonel Washington will but take the thing in hand, we shall soon put them down. He is w^ell used to Indian ways, both in peace and "vvar, and has dealt with them in embassy and conflict from his youth uix" " You seem to think a great deal of this Colonel Washing- ton," observed ]\Iiss Digby, who had not quite recovered her temper. " I have heard of him, even in England ; I think 'twas he that they said bore a charmed life, having escaped unhurt from the very thick of poor General Braddock's atfair." " It was, Madam ; and if any one can defend our borders against the Indians, 'tis he." " I see you are determined to lose no chance of chanting the praises of a Virginian, Mr. Ih'anxholm," said Althea, re- lenting, " and that you do not think the Indians the harmless, ill-used creatures which some in England maintain they are." " ]\Iadam, they are for the most part bloody-minded savages — treacherous, greedy, and revengeful — incapable of civilisation, and rejoicing in cruelty. I would kill my mother with my own hand sooner than leave her alive to suffi'r their devilish ingenuity!" [ciiAr. is just ; awavc li-htful :.^ For but no ird, and )ston, it 1 once a on the lie liad 1)0 sur- dlc-aged )ect liad cl would 1 Jasper [ inime- 5 content s. Noel as much to leave Colonel soon put in peace Met from ^Vasliing- -ercd her link 'twas Id unhurt borders chanting Ithea, rc- Iharndess, ly are." Id savages alisation, my own Igenuity!" 11.] A FIKE-EATER. 19 Althea shuddered ; but she thought — " Though Ik^ is but a l)oy, there is stuff in him too." " Yet I think you told me that you have a drop of their lilood in your own veins," she said, a little maliciously. " The blood of Pocahontas need not shame the purest descent," he said, hotly ; and then, in an altered tone, he con- tinued ; " And yet, princess and heroine though she was, I have sometimes thought that 'twere better perhaps not to come of her race, by so much a.s one drop of blood. For I sometimes fancy I can feel that drop, like a drop of fire, boiling in the very core of my heart, and stirring a mad fierceness within me — 'tis a kind of tingling in my veins, beyond tlic power of reason to control, — an impatience— I scarce know what it is, but I know that 'tis a something, which if it were ever fairly roused, might play the devil with all the rest of me." " And has your brother likewise this fierce drop of heathen blood?" asked Miss Digby quietly. "Jasper? To say the truth, Miss Digby, I think he has; but in him it lies deeper down — at the very bottom of his heart, it seems to me — but yet I think 'tis there. But I have it in double measure, for my father and mother are cousins, and both come of Pocahontas' line." " At any rate, we need not fear your taking to the woods and turning Sachem," said Althea ; " but I protest you have made me tingle with this talk of Indian blood, and I am almost glad that our English branch of the Randolphs can count no Indian princesses among their ancestry." Late as it was when they cast anchor at the wharf, there were plenty of people about. As soon as the usual shouting, running hither and thither, flinging of ropes, hauling of chains, and all the confused turmoil which attends conung into port, had partially subsided, the Customs stej^ped aboard, and were taken down into the Captain's cabin. Before the Captain, how- ,ever, could follow them down the companion, an elderly gentle- man in a full-bottomed wig and a scarlet cloak hurried after him, and said fussily, " A thousand pardons. Captain, but you should have as pass- engers Lieutenant Digby and Miss Digby — pray present me to them. I am sent by their relative, my cousin, Mrs. Maverick, to meet them. You know my name — Mr. Harrison Gray." The Captain very slightly returned Mr. Gray's bow, and hastily looking round, espied the two persons he was seeking ,.*#'^ r mmmmm 20 A GREAT TREASON. [chap. tt 1 ■"" 'J 1. ) % ■ i 'MJ If VY > } standing amidst a heap of trunks and boxes, which some negro porters had fetched from below. " Here they are," he said. " IMiss Digby, IMa'am, this gentleman is Mr. Harrison Gray, come to escort you ashore. I have the honour, Sir and Ma'am, to wish you good-bye." He shook hands heartily M'ith them, and disappeared down the companion ; while the old gentleman, removing his cocked hat, bowed with great formality, and explained that Mrs. Maverick had begged him to meet her young cousins at the ship, and bring them to her house. Jasper and Noel, who were at the moment coming up to take leave, and ask if they could be of any service, heard this ; and Jasper, as scon as they had set foot ashore, said bitterly, — " You can sec already which way the wind will blow from that quarter, Noel. Mrs. Maverick is a connection of Mr. Hutchinson's, and a Tory of Tories ; and Harrison Gray is one of those that blow hot and cold on the cause, as long as 'tis only debated, but will go over the instant we do more than talk." So saying, Jasper turned up King Street, towards the house of his imcle, Mr. Lawrence Fleming. CHAPTER III. THE COURSE OF TRUE LOVE. The house to which Jasper took his brother was one of the fine old brick mansions which formerly lined King Street. The door was opened by a coloured footman, who displayed every tooth in his head when Noel addressed him as Telemachus, and told him he was a head taller than when he last saw him. A solid oak staircase in the middle of the entrance-hall led to the rooms on the first floor, which opened on to a landing itself as large as a good-sized room. Telemachus showed the way across this landing, and flung open a door. The room into which he ushered the gentlemen would have been gloomy, but for the sense of homely comfort conveyed by the close-drawn curtains, t^ie bright wood fire, and the table laid for supper. Here the family were assembled, consisting of an elderly lady and gentleman, and a young girl. Noel was received with open arms by them all, including his pretty cousin Mary, — for so Noel M i ■■nt ■ft ■I [chap. B negro Ti, this ashore. B." d clown cocked it Mrs. I at the in.] THE COURSE OF TRUE LOVE. 21 5 lip to •d this ; terly, — DW from of Mr. y is one ;; as 'tis >re than le house !d the fine The every Ills, and nil. hall led ng itself he way om into my, but e-drawn supper, rly lady ith open so Noel 4 always called the young lady, though she did not actually stand ill that relation to him. " Come, come, give him a kiss, my wench," said her father ; and Mary obeyed with a charming blush, Avhich brought a second and warmer glow to the impres- sionaljle young Virginian's cheek. Jas})er's uncle and adoj)tive ftither was a little man of sixty or so, with a face jJain enough by nature not to be much the worse for the smallpox, of which it bore the marks. His small gray eyes were remarkably quick and merry, and his expression was that of shrewd good-liuniour. He wore a plain suit of gray and a tie-wig, and was particular about his stockings, having a remarkably neat leg, and a well-turned foot and ankle. His wife was a somewhat comely w^onian, with sandy hair, inclining to red. She was dressed with extreme plainness, as befitted a member of one of the strictest churches in Boston ; and wore a close linen cajD, and, whenever she went out, a camlet riding- hood, sue] I as pious folk liked to recall was worn in the good old times by even the Governor's lady. Good Mistress Fleming was of a somewhat despondent disposition, and was wont to talk of herself as one with whom the Lord had dealt mysteri- ously. If by this the good w^oman had meant the death of her only son, a promising boy of twelve, every father's and mother's heart might sympathise with her ; but she had a way of giving an abstract theological turn to any expressions of human affec- tion in which she might indulge, which lO the purely human mind savoured somewhat of coldness. Her daughter, however, made up for all her parents' deficiencies, whether of mind or person. She was a very beau- tiful young woman, of a style of beauty which appeals most forcibly to refined observers, but which could not fail to please any eye. She was tall, and in middle age would probaljly be what it was then the fashion to call a " monstrous fine figure of a woman." But at nineteen the suppleness of youth was chiefly apparent. There was a largeness of her movements, too, which seemed in some subtle way to suggest largeness and generosity in all the thoughts, words, and ways of Mary Fleming. Noel, who since his travels possessed the advantage of having seen a good many admirable pictures, found an indescrib- able pleasure in watching his cousin as she moved about the room, putting the finishing touches to the supper-table ; and the thouglit occurred to him more than once, that, with a child clasped to her bosom, she might well have sat for that very i H^5! »— •■^-••W*'- »wV">»Wt f V^"" ■•J**'^ SMORMOI )' 22 A GREAT TREASON. [chap. ■1 I!') \H •; » ■|!'/ V'\ t ideal of tenderness and purity, which painters strove to embody in the Maiden of Nazareth. That blessed figure has become the type of womanhood ; and it was Mary Fleming's womanliness which made her chief charm. There was a sweet bloom on her cheek, her brow was white and smooth, and shaded by hair of a warm light brown, which looked almost golden when the sun shone on it; her blue eyes were like two clear pools, as clear as JMary's own soul; but agreeable as all these things may be to the sight, Mary had a stronger and subtler charm still for the heart of every one with whom she came in contact. She was incapable of flirting or coquetry ; she ha:l no little feminine arts, no manoeuvres or pretty affectations. But in all she said and did there was apparent thic; warm large-hearted womanliiress — and all women are no more womanly than all men are manly. Noel always thought and spoke of Mary as his cousin, but there was in reality no blood - relationship between them. Noel's father and mother were cousins. They came of an old Virginian stock, and were, as he had told Miss Digby, related to the Randolphs, one of those old Virginian families which boasted that the blood of Pocahontas flowed m their veins. There was certainly a wild strain in them, which showed itself now and then in some passionate outburst. These two cousins had fallen in love with each other in spite, or in con- sequence of, a violent feud between their fathers, which rendered stolen meetings necessary. Stolen meetings by moonlight quicken most lovers' ardour ; and these lover?* made love by the light of the broad yellow moon of a Virginian summer night, flooding the crannies and crevices of the distant Blue Ridge, and the fir-trees which grow high up on its shoulders. They had pledged unalterable fidelity a good many times under this moon, when the lady's father found out what was going on, and (after sending a message to his brother-in-law to chain up Young Hopeful, if he would not have him shot for trespassing) carried his daughter oft" to Philadelphia, where she was seen and admired by Mr. Jasper Fleming, a prosperous merchant of Boston. It unfortunately happened that the paternal interference took place at the very moment of a quarrel between the lovers. Myra Butler had taken it into her head to be jealous of a young beauty and heiress, who was reported to look very kindly on Mr. Branxholm. So when farther reports reached Philadelphia of an actual engagement, Miss Myra became convinced that her suspicions had been only itfll' if I '.11 in.] THE COURSE OK TRUE LOVE. 28 too well grounded, and i^hc despatched a letter to her lover, in wlii('li she be,u ir^e to go back." Noel did not answer ; he was thinking thac at this very hour the night before, he had stood beside Althea Digby, and that this night's work opened a great gulf between her and himself. But he was young and sanguine, and he told himself that the storm might yet blow over, and that he might yet return from Virginia to better fortune. Jasper, too, was silent, except when, as happened several times, some one came up and spoke to him in so low a voice that Noel found it easy not to hear what he was evidently not intended to listen to. But from a word or two spoken a little louder than the rest he could not help perceiving that Jasper was in the confidence of the leaders, if indeed he were not one of them. " Whatever we do, let the strict letter of the law be observed, so far as is compatible with the great object." h ^ heard Jasper say. Just as Jasper spoke, there seemed to be & 'iv'den scuffle aboard the Dartmouth, which quickly resolved itseli into three or four of the Mohawks dragging a man along tlu deck, and handing him over to some of the volunteer watchmen, by whom he was roughly handled. A person who came and spoke to Jasper shortly afterwards, said that the fellow had been caught secreting some of the tea. I' i vr.] Till-: MOHAWKS. 38 " Hark !" said Jasper, gripping' Noel's arm, us one heavy splash after another announced that the work of destruction was being carried on with zeal. " Every siJash we hear tells of another chain wrenched off tlie lindjs of freemen, and cast into the depths of the sea !"' "Jasper," whispered Noel, "do you think there will be fighting after tliis?" And Jasper, after a moment's pause, whispered : " It must come to that at last, unless they yield, for v'c never sliall." The moon shone from an unclouded sky before the work was finislicd, and the nudtitudes began to stream homeward. A vast bodyguard surrounded the IMohawks, and escorted them back through the town. They marched to the fife and drum, and people were looking from most of the windows. At one house, a gentleman in the dress of a naval officer called out from a first-f'oor window, — "Well, boys, you've had a fine pleasant evening for your Indian caper — but remember, there'll be the fiddler to pay yet!" — "Never mind that, Admiral !" shouted he Avho seemed to be the leader. "If you'll just come out here, we'll settle the bill in two minutes, Mr. Montague !" But Admiral ]\Iontaguc shut the window in a hurry, as the people shouted, and the fifer struck up. The day of reckoning v.MS postponed. CHAPTEK VI. COMPLIMENTS AT PARTING. spoke been The next day Noel, with a somewhat heavy heart, went to call on his late fellow-travellers, and take leave before starting for Virginia. As Mrs. Maverick lived almost opposite, Noel had obtained a glimpse of Miss Digby already. Marj- Fleming, watering the floAvers on her jardiniere, which stood in the sitting-room Avindow, had also seen a handsome young lady, standing but half-concealed by the muslin curtains, and looking up and doAvn the street. It had been a bitter disappointment to Noel that his f^ither and mother had not been able to come to Boston as had been arranged. Although Mrs. Branxholm did not love Boston for its own sake, she was always willing to accept her brother-in- law's invitations to spend a few weeks in his house in King VOL. I. D ! i I *■•; !■ % 84 A OREAT TREASON. CHAP. Street. She liked travelling; and when one went to Boston one could always visit Pliiladcl[)liia on the way. Mrs. Branx- liolm was considered, even in Virginia, as a lady of great spirit, and quite a travelled person. Then, too, but for these most inopportune disturbances, Noel reflected that nothing would have been easier than to get his father and mother to invite the Digbys to visit them at Oglethorpe next summer. With this idea in his head, Noel lifted the great brass knocker, where copious floral wreaths surrounded a grinning masque, and asked a smart black boy (who in his scarlet coat much resembled a monkey) if Miss Digby were within — having seen Miss Digby approach the window not five minutes before, this question was a pm"e matter of form. The black boy forth- with ushered Mr. Branxholm upstairs, where he was received by Mrs. Maverick, a very handsome old lady, with courtly manners, befitting the cousin of the Governor. " I am delighted to see you, Mr. Branxholm," she said. " I knew your mother when she was Mrs. Fleming, and I must compliment you on your resemblance to her. I always thought her out of place in Boston, between you and me, Mr. Branx- holm," continued the old lady with a delightful frankness, and fixing her bright eyes and beautiful snow-white curls on Noel's blushing countenance. " Mr. Fleming was a very excellent man, and a great deal more personable than his brother, of course — but yet — you understand me, I'm sure, there's a je ne serais quaw " — so she pronounced it — " about a real Virginian gentle- man, that one sees at once. I assure you I have been quite grieved to see the part your brother, Mr. Jasper, has taken in these unfortunate squabbles " " Madam," said Noel, getting very hot, but feeling that the words must out, " 'tis true I am of Virginia, but on these matters we think the same in Virginia as they do here in Boston." "Oh, fie, fie !" said the old lady, patting his hand, which lay on the arm of his chair, with her own pretty plump fingers. " Fie, fie ! We must have no treason talked here !" Just then, Althea entered. She had found time to unpack a charming taffcty morning-dress, and her hair was arranged more elaborately than had been possible on board ship. She was very gracious in her manner, but she could not resist the temptation to say, " Are you not sorry, Mr. Branxholm, that the Fair American did not make the voyage in time for I ^1 CHAP. VI.] COMPLLMEXTS AT PARTING. 35 lere in Avhich iugers. mpack ranged She resist fholm, be iov j^ou to have eiigagetl in this pretty little piece of })iracy 1 But pcrhajis you did take part in it 1 " '* You are mistaken, Madam," said Xoel, nettled, he could scarcely tell why. "Perhaps at least you looked on?" slie continued; and then, as he said nothing, she added, "and, like Saul of Tarsus, held tli(i garnunits of those who were employed in the good Avork 1 '' " I had not the lionour, or privilege, or anything else you may clioose to call it. Madam, to take any part whatever," said Noel ciuickly. '* Allow me, howcAcr, to assure you, that should a proper time ever arrive when I may seal my convic- tions with my actions, I will find a way to do it at which it sliall be impossible for any one to sneer." Althea saw that her M'ords had cut deeper than she intended ; but her brother coming in just then, and greeting Noel with unsuspei^ting friendhness, there was no opportunity for explanation, — if, indeed, any explanation would not have made matters worse, — and Noel went away ang.y, while Althea felt more interest in him tlian she had ever done before. A little injustice on the one side, and just indignation on the other, ave the best means in the world to give a spice to friend- ship — especially when that friendship is between a man and a woman. But whatever was wanting in t. ■ parting of Noel and Althea was made up for by the warmth of that between the two young men. Frederick Digby told Noel that they might yet meet in Virginia ; for it appeared that the eccentric great-uncle — who had, by his Will, left a large property to tlie young relatives he had never seen — had died in that province. " You must come and stay in Shenandoah Valley," said Noel, — his eyes invohuitarily straying towards Althea to see how she took tills. " But I shall write to you, and you to me. We are sticklers for cousinship in Virginia, and you will find plenty of relations." For all this, it was an uncomfortable parting — so much so that Noel recrossed the street and mounted the stairs of Mr. Fleming's house in a very dejected frame of mind. It was growing dusk, and Mary, who had just drawn the curtains, would have rung for candles, but Noel said, — "Sit down, Mary, and let us have half an hour's conversation, before I go home to be scalped by Indians, or roasted alive at a stake." m \i \i lijt i I. 11' 36 A GREAT TREASOX. [chap " Pray do not say sucli things even in jost, dear Noel," exclainuMl Mary, sitting bolt upright in the easy-chair, usually occupied 1)y her father. "Think how terrible they will be to reiueniber -when you arc gone !" "It would make no ditrerencc to you, nor do I think there is a soul on earth who would care, save my father and mother — and Jasper. My father and mother will ]>robably have perished before I am taken prisoner — of course I should fight desperately " — observed Noel parenthetically, and stealing a sly glance at j\Iary, to see whether this picture iiHoctcd her sufHciently ; "so tiiat there would only be Jasper left to shed a tear over my ashes." " Why are you. so bitter-hearted, Noel 1 One Avould think you was sorry to come home ! " '* I have dreamed of coming a hundred times — thought of it niglit and day," said Noel, staring into the fire, and seeing Althea's face in it, with an Inditm just behind her, tomahawk in hand. " But, I Icnow not how, I feel a depression I can't shake otf— — " here Althea and the Indian collapsed into a wild boar, rootling beneath a tree. " The prospect of a long and solitary journey in the dead of winter, and in a stage-coach as stilling as a ship's cabin, and that tosses nearly as much " " Poor boy, it is pretty hard, when you thought you would find your father and mother here, and spend the winter in Boston ! " Mary laid a caressing ha.id on Noel's arm, and Noel slipped down on the rug, and laid his head on Mary's knee. " You used to let me do this when T was a little boy, and your mother wasn't in the room," he said. *'Iwish I was a little boy again, and you Avas my sister, as we used to play." Now, to tell the truth, in those not so very remote days, the play proceeded quite as often on anotlier plot, namely, the betrothal and marriage, by canonical rites, of Noel and Mary, Avho, together with Jasper, had on one occasion been whipped and sent to bed, for taking part in a profane travesty of the marriage -service — Jasper, arrayed in his mother's black bom- bazine petticoat, with paper bands, represcntiug the worthy pastor of the First Church. Mary's memory, as it chanced, had just then gone back to this particular performance, and she felt an odd vexation at hearing Noel's lament for that other less exciting youthful drama. A silence fell upon her, and she was even conscious of vr.] COMI'LIMEXTS AT PAK'lIXc.;. Ol and a (lisjjo.-'itioii to cry. The lolly of tlii>!, ns tlioiv was iiotliiii!;' Avluitcver to ciy alxuit (Xool's tmii'io forobodiiin's l)ciii.i,^ in the liigliest de.iiree uidikely to be fnltilled), 8o forcibly connnciidcd itself to Mai'v's common sense, that she made an impatient movement Avith lier knee. " Sit still, ]\Iaiy," said Xocl, Avlioni this movement incom- moded. "You never used to tiy and push me away." " You arc talking foolishly, jS oel, and you know it," said Mary, who could at the moment have boxed her young rela- tive's cars or kissed him, with about equal satisfaction. " We are all greatly disappoinicd that you nuist go, and you know lliat well." It is a striking example of the exceeding deccitfulness of the human heart, that a young man of so good a natural dis- jiosition as Noel liranxholni should have at this moment conceived the idea that it would be an excellent plan to have ]\Iary at Oglethorpe when the Digbys were there. "She's a fine girl, too," considered this youthfid Mac- chiavelli, " and it might bring other peoi»lc to their senses, to sec that some people can " here Xoel went off into a reverie, comparing Althca's manner towards himself with j\Iary's, and trying to draw some conclusion therefrom. He was rouwed from this by Mary's questioning him about England, and he had not half finished his account of his adven- tures, when an elderly woman-servant, attended by Telemachus, came in l"'> })rcpare the table for the evening meal. At that meal, Mrs. Fleming gave the conversation a some- what lugubrious turn, speaking much of the disturbed times, of wars and rumours of wars, and especially of the violence of the heathen, of which latter danger she spoke as though the Uranxholms were about to face another King Philip's War. For all which had happened, or was about to happen, the good lady doubted not that Antmomian heresies were mainly to blame. In fact, her opinion of the "ill-egg of toleration" might have satisfied Dr. Cotton Mather himself Her husband (who was shrewdly s.*spected of laxity) confined his own si)eecli to a few disjointed remarks of a political tendency. " There'll be trouble, Noel, my lad," he said more than once. "After last night, something'U have to be done o' both sides. Well, we shall see, we shall sec ! Jasper here was very cast -down a while ago, with thinking how things might turn out ; and now I feel kind o' downcast myself. It seems to me as though II' 38 A GREAT TKKASON. [chap "svhat was done last nidit was a kiiul of fixiim' a liuhtiiin2:-rocl, Bcnj; Franklin did it Kot to amin rraniciin dia ; and now wc vc bide and see what the lij^htning'll do." These remarks, whicli were not delivered conseontively, as here i'cj)orted, but at various times, and without niueh ai)parent connection with the general convcrsatidu, did not contribute to raise Noel's spirits before his departure. In fact they damj)ed him so much — although Jasper reminded him that Dr. Franklin had survived his daring oxpcriincnt — that he began to take some comfort from the thought that a brush with the Seneca or Delaware Indians wovdd, after all, be exciting, and might afford immediate opportunities of distinction. Colonel Washington was but nineteen when he was adjutant-general. To be sure, such another emergency was not likely to arise. The conquest of Canada had pretty avoU silenced the French ; and, except for a sudden raid, the Indians could be easily disposed of by men that knew how to fight them, Noel's dreams that night were of leading an expedition through the wilderness, in which past and present, Captain Joucaire, Braddock, and Indian Sachems, were mixed up in chaotic confusion with Althea Digby and her brother, Mary and Jasper. CHAPTER VII. TKAVELLING COMPAIsIONS. Mowhray. Tlievo. is a thing -within my bosom tells me That no conditions of our pence can stand. Sfcon'D Part of King Henry IV. As the outside places were all taken, Noel was obliged to make a fourth inside the stage, which was said, in highly figurative language, to "run" between Boston and Providence. That famous transatlantic word "progress" had not yet been form- ally promoted from noun to verb, btit no other word so fitly describes the action of the respectable vehicle in '^^uestion. Not even the partiality of its proprietor called it a " Flying Machine," as its sister of New York was fondly named. Run it did not ; to the impatient spirit of Noel Branxholm it scarcely seemed even to walk. It did, however, " progress." It was a high-shoiUdered, top-heavy concern, almost as sub- i '^' VII. J TRAVELLIXa COMPANIONS. 39 '? staiitiiil as a house, as was iicodccl for the roads of a liuiidred years ago. The first emotion of the inexperienced stranger, on getting inside, was surprise, mingled with disappointment, at tlie smaUness of tlie space which it took so much woodwork to enclose. In revenge fur this, there was a prodigious amount of room on the roof — or, if not precisely on the roof, around and ;d)0ut the roof. In fact, the outsiders spread out before and behind in such fashion that, seen through a fog at a distance, the coach and its appendages might have been taken by some benighted Indian, last of the Narragansetts or Pocanokets, for the grandfather of all the bull-flies. Mr. Fleming and Jasper accompanied Noel to the coach, where he was agreeably surprised to find also Lieutenant Digby, who exchanged a very stiti" bow with Jasper. There was a deal of handing up of parcels, throwing up of carpet-bags, and hauling up of portmanteaus ; as the outsidcs climbed up to their l)crches, the coach lurched and groaned like a ship weighing anchor, and the final start was a surgical operation, so many jerks and tugs were necessary to get the wheels to fairly begin to turn. Once oft", however, the four stout horses seemed to pick up their load, and the unwieldly machine lumbered over Boston Neck, and away through the green winter landscape and along the busy street of Roxbury, past the old George tavern, and so out into the countiy again. Long before this, Noel's attention had been drawn to two of his fellow-passengers ; the third, wrapped in a travel-stained camlet cloak, and his hat slouched low over his eyes, was either asleep, or A\ished to indulge in his own thoughts undisturbed. This person sat next to Noel on the back-seat, and turned away from bis companion. The other two passengers were evidently divines, as was shown by their dress, and also by the cast of their countenances, much as they differed in personal appearance. The elder of the two, a mail of sixty or thereabouts, had a placid, somewhat self- satisfied expression ; Nor^l thought he recognised him as the pastor of a church in Boston who used to visit at Mrs. Flem- ing's house. He was grown stouter, and his hair, which he Avore in its natural state, was now of a beautiful silver white, instead of being black as Noel remembered it ; but the voice was unchanged — measured and slightly pompous ; it had fixed itself indelibly on Noel's memory, and now called up visions of hot afternoons when he had been compelled to sit still on a »/ 40 A (IRKAT TKICASOX [lHAT. ill rl f'uot-stool and listen to tlio Doctui-'s wcll-balancLHl porind-;, wliilo 3Ii",s. Fleming giive occasional sighs of ae'iuiesccn( c. Tiie Doe- tor's face was ratb.cr heavy, and his eyes were small ; l)ut, in spite of these defects, and a portentous double chin, he liad a \ ciicrablc and scholarly api)earance. His neighbour on the back-seat was at least a score of years younger, and in appearance far less conifuitable than the Doctor. His clothes, too, though respectable, looked rather shabby beside the Doctor's fine broadcloth. II is features were irregular and strongly marked, one eyebrow Avas slightly higher than the other, and he had a nervous trick of twitching it. Tie wore his hair (a sandy brown) long, which, as it was scanty and uncurled, gave him a slovenly apjiearance, while at the same time it heightened the quaint old-wt)rld look of the features. He was a restless man, evidently of a highly ner- vous temperament, and frequently changed his ])(tsition — con- stantly hitchhig and uidiitching an inordinate pair of legs, being, no doubt, much cramped. In so doing, he accidentally kicked the Doctor's most sensitive corn. '* Oh dear ! oh dear !" exclaimed the Doctor, freely display- ing his anguish. His conqianion apologising handsomely, a conversation ensued, at first very friendly, until some expres- sion let fall by the younger divine hit anotlier of the Doctor's corns, but this time a spiritual one. Orthodoxy took instant alarm. "Christian liberty is not Christian license," — he begun, clearing his throat by way of preparing for action. "Most true," said the other. "But the interference of the civil magistrate in matters of doctrine is an unwarrantable usurpation, whether it be clone by a King of England or a Selectman of Boston ; and I rejoice to thiidc that we live in times when such persecution as even this province hath seen and committed is impossible." " Sir ! " exclaimed the Doctor, in whose face the blood of pious indignation had been mounting throughout this speech, "/ on the contrary lament that the days are past, when our godly forefathers could drive away false doctrines, as they drove away Roger Williams and Anne Hutchinson." " Roger Williams was a man in advance of his age," retorted the other, warming in his turn. " He had a clear view of the glorious doctrine of toleration." " A doctrine, sir, destructive of orthodox religion, and the MU] TKAVKr.MXO COMrAMONS. 41 IVnitfiil iiiDtlicr of cvi it Iniui of lion^sy,'' said tlic dnclnr sternly. "Tlicii, my (Icav >ir, liow do you nuuiitaiii your {ground a^'iiiiKst tlio Cliur(;li of lioinc ?" d('inandc(l the youii'j(>r iniiii, with !i mild air of triinu))h, "You liavc no /orns t guide. The Scrii)ture, sir, is our locus standi — it is our rock, and tlie gates of hell shall not prevail against it ! " Having hurled this senteuec (which formed p>art of the ]iororation of one of his tinest discourses) bodily at his antagonist, lie paused to observe the elfect. "That is the very point," said the younger man ([uickly. "Good men differ as to the interin-etation of Scripture '' "Sir," said the Doctor severely, rufHing his ])lume8 ; "I h 70, observed that when men begin to talk of dilfering inter- ])retations, they have always gotten an interin-ctatioii of their t)wn ready, to clap on some ])lain word of Scriiiture. In other words, sir, 'tis ever your heretic who talks most of toleration." As the Doctor s;dd this, his looks added that he more than suspected that here was a case in point. Then, as his com- piuiiou did not answer for a moment, he asked pointedly, " Are you of Providence, sir ? " " I am, sir." "xVh," oliserved the Doctor, slowly shaking his head, and crossing his hands on the top of his gold-li(>adcd cane, " I might have supposed so." Being somewhat sharidy requested to explain this remark, the Doctor made further reference to Roger Williams and his heresies, and at last, in the heat of conti-oversy, wont so far as to call his opponent an Antinomian ; to which the other retorted that at any rate he was not a persecutor, and added, — "I con- fess to holding one heretical opinion — I do not love the Lord Brethren any better than the Lord Bishops." After this, war may be said to have liecn openly declared. 'Hie respective representatives of Massachusetts and Rhode Island, taking up arms each for his native Province, hurled W' '12 A ORKAT TKRASOX. [en A IV theological and lii.storical stones at cacli otlior with a hearty good-will, worthy nf those more zealous days so much regretted hy the Boston divine, lie reviled the first foundeis of Provi- dence as heady, fantastic, and blaspheinous heretics, given to contention, splitters of the Church of God, deniers of lawful authority, and lastly as Anahaptists and Antinomians — adding that he doubted not but the late lanunitable betrayal of the laud that bore him by Governor Hutchinson was to be regarded as in some sense the outcome of the errors nf that uidiappy gentlewoman, whose great-grandson he was. To this the other replied with much warmth, that Aime Hutchinson was a woman of whom the world was not worthy; that the tyranny of the Massachusetts theocracy was worse than that of the Star- chamber; that Church Covenants were human inventions; and finally, that there was no Divine Right save the divine right of following the light that is in us, without regard to any priest of any communion whatsoever. If the words " Antinomian " and " Anabaptist " had visibly ruffled the philosophy of the Providence divine, he of Boston was so incensed at these assertions, and especially at the word " priest," that there is no saying to what extremity the belli- gerents might not have gone, if the coach had not been by this time crossing the Providence River. A fin^* winter sunset lighted up the tree-clad hills, and glorified the f e of the town into a warm dusky orange mist. The third passenger, who had given signs of restlessness for the last hour or so, now suddenly threw oft' his cloak, pushed his hat to the top of his head, and, stretching himself, thrust his head out of the coach window, — which he had opened without asking permission. Presently he drew in his head, fastened the window, so as to let in a little air, and again stretched him- self vigorously. Indeed, all his movements had such a vigour and readiness, that although he had not spoken a single word during a journey of several hours, Noel had for some time felt a greater interest and curiosity with regard to him than he would have believed possible on the day when he was leaving his heart behind him. The person who had thus impressed Noel was dressed like a substantial merchant, but there was something about him which led Noel to speculate as to his calling, and to incline to think that he might be a sea-captain. He was a stout-built man, and appeared to be extremely muscular. His complexion I VII.l TKAVKF.LIXii COMI'AMOXS. 43 Wiis very dark, and .sumcwliat liigli-colourcd, but Ids oyos Avorc a li'^ht .uray. His features were good, -with an aquiline nose, l)()ldly marked eyebrows, and a lofty but sliglitly-retreating fore- head. As Noel studied his proHh', the expression of the well- sliajH'd mouth, with the lower lip iirojceting ii little beyond tlie uppi!r, was that of a man who is attentively listening, indeed, Init who has already made up his mind as to what he himself shall say, and intends to say it, the instant he shall see a favourable opi)ortunity. Noel faneied that the stranger's lip eurled with contemptuous amusement, as he listened to the eoiitrovcrsy raging opposite him. When the eoacli had lumbered down the street of Provi- dence, and drawn up before the door of the posting-tavern, Noel Avas not sorry to see his reverend fellow-))assengers walk off in o])posite directions — Init not until the boctor had said with great solemnity, — *' Sir, it is on my conscience to bid you most seriously consider whether that light whereof you speak as a man's only guide to heaven be a safe guide, or whether it be not rather — as apjiears but too probable from the monstrous vagaries into which lor the most part they fall who follow it — whether, I say, it be not rather of the nature of those wandering stars spoken of by the Apostle Jude, so that each man hath his own 7'/nif<-J''i/Hnf> leading hiui to destruction. Sir, I wish you a good-day." With these words, the Doctor made a "bow more in accord- ance with Christian courtesy than could have been expected from the utterer of so uncivil a siicech, and turning on his heel went up the street, like a shij) in full sail — his amide person and heavy footsteps making no little impression on a few by- standers, who had lounged up to see the coach come in ; while his fellow-traveller, his cloak flapping loosely in the wind, hurried off down town, with long jerking strides. "Thank Heaven, they're gone !" said the merchant, getting out of the coach. Then having waited till Noel had followed him, he said with a slight bow, — " Do you stay here the night, sir 1 Have you any objection to our joining tables ? " "None whatever, sir," answered Noel, who as a very young man was not insensible to the flattery of notice fiom an elder one. Not that the stranger was old, however. Being rather heavily built, Noel had taken him at first to be nearly forty, but when they were in the inn parlour, and the merchant had !■ I 41 A GREAT TREASON. [CHAV. I thrown off his cloalc, and was walkino; up and down the room, the chisticity and vigour of his figure became apparent — he could be but very little over thirty. "Well, sir, I daresay you and I can find sometliing better to talk about than theological quibbles," ue said ; he was pacing vigorously up and down as though he were walking a deck, with a sharp measured stride. " You, I presume, was in IJoston on Thursday night '? How do you think the matte will end'?" " AVho can tell'?" answered Noel. "I can see but two possible ends." " And they 1 " The stranger had paused in his march, and put this question in the brusque tone of command. " One is, the reduction of the Colonies to be mere planta- tions, as they were at first — places of banishment at the worst, and at the best, of refuge." "Ha!" exclaimed the other, drawing in his breath. "I see you understand. And the other end '? " " The only other end — as it seems to me — is, sooner or later — it may be a long time first " " Wein what is if?" impatiently inttrrupted the -iranger, his dark face intently waiting Xoei's reply. " An ajipcal to arms." The stranger brought his hand down on the table, with a force which set the glasses jingling. " It will come ! it must come ! " he said, and would have said more, but the host came in at the moment, bringing the dinner, and a coujile of jorums of flip, which would, he ex- plained, have been served to the gentlemen before, if the poker liad not happened to fall out of the fire, and been allowed to get cold. The stranger drank off about three parts of the portion offered to him, and asked the host if he had got any Madeira in the house. " Wa-al, doctor, we aint gotten no Madciry to speak of, jes' this minute," he replied, looking with much curiosity at Noel. " But we've gotten some reel good Teneriffe." " Very well, bring us some," said the stranger ; and then turning to Noel, added, " Will you carve V " Certainly not," said Noel, smiling. " Why — what are you laughing at ? " asked the other, })romptly taking the head of the table, and beginning to sharpen the carving knife. VIII.] " I LACK OPPORTUNITY." 45 " I was siniliny, sir, to think liuw iiiucli move fit you evi- dently are to lead, and I to follo^y," replied Xocl. This seemed mightily to amuse the stran^i^er. '• What do you think about it, Ezekiel 'I " he saiil, as the host was filling the; glasses Avith the Teneriife. Ezekiel grinned. " Wa-al, doctor, I guess you wa'nt cut out for much le.^s'n second fiddle," he said. " Leastways, I b'lievc they think m over to New Ilaveu." CHAPTER VITL " I LACK OPPORTUNITV." Noel had ample time to improve his new acquaintance, for he Avas obliged to stay in Providence over Sunday. Aware of the greater latitudinarianism which was a tradition of Eliode Island, he had hoped to be able to push on ; but the landlord informed him that nothing would go out of the town till ]\ronday. So Noel went dutifully to meeting in the morning. Every one was talking about the tea-ships, and what the home Government would do. Noel, like most Virginians, had been brought up as an Episcopalian, but to-day he went into the first church lie came to, which happened to be the most orthodox in the town. Just as he had sat down in the pew into wdiich a lawyer-like person invited him, he saw the im- posing figure of the doctor from Boston, majestically ascending the pulpit stairs. It was easy to see that there was an uncommon interest in the service— every one was, iu fact, eagerly waiting to hear what the preacher would say about public events; and the doctor did not disappoint this cmiosity. He displayed as staunch a zeal in politics as in religion ; and pray> d that the enemies of the Colonies might speedily be confounded und brought to nougiit — at; which words a deep hum went round the church. The doctor took for his text the words, " Choose ye this day whom ye will serve;" and although he did not precisely preach a_ political discou.rse, he said so much about the fear of nian which causcth a snare, and enlarged so eloquently on the sin of standing aloof in times of national trouble, that it would have been pretty evident which side he himself had espoused, IjV 46 A GREAT TREASON. [UUAT. i i I! 1 1. even if he had not, in his pcroratiou, reminded his hearers that as to them much had been given, so from them would much be required ; and, above all, would an account bo demanded of them of what they had done with that great inheritance of freedom which their fathers had brought across the seas. He paused, and looking around the crowded meeting-house, seemed to examine every face there. Then uplifting his right hand with a gesture of unaffected earnestness, he brought it down so heavily that the black tassels which adorned the gray cushion on which the Bible lay open before him, leapt again, as he said solemnly, — "Woe unto us of this generation, if, for a mess of pottage, we sell that birthright ! " As Noel came out, he was joined by his new acquaintance, who had been sitting close to the door. " I thought I would look in," he observed. " Our friend's politics are better than his theology. I call that a somnl un- compromising discourse, and I don't doubt that many hundred others like it will be preached this day in New England." After dinner, instead of attending afternoon service, they went for a stroll to the high ground on the north of Providence, whence they had a fine view of land and water. By this time Noel had made inquiries of the landlord, and had learned that his travelling companion was Dr. Benedict Arnold, an apothecary of New Haven. He took an opportunity of asking his companion if this were so. Arnold laughed. " It is pretty plain you are not of these provinces," said he. "It is our custom to ask every stranger his birth, parentage, education, business, and private and public opinions, before he has had time to order his room at his inn. I heard Ezekicl plying you yesterday, and your answers, so I was saved the trouble of inquiring myself, and thus keeping up our char- acter. Hov.'ever, honest Ezekiel hath been chary of his informa- tion, so, as I know all about you, 'tis but fair I should enlighten you a little further as to myself. 'Tis true I have a drug and book store at New Haven, and am, if not precisely an apothe- cary, at least as much of one as half the apothecaries in these l)arts. I am also a shipowner, a horse and cattle-dealer, Captain of the Governor's Bodyguard, and, as you may say, a sort of Jack-of-all-trades." It further appeared that he had niiide several voyages to the West Indies, had been to Canada, and even to England. As they became more confidential, he told Noel that an ancestor VIII.] " I LACK OPPORTUNITY." 47 ler to lul. itor of his had been more than once elected Governor of the Pro- vince. " Those were times ■\vortli living in," he said. " Enemies to fight, wildernesses to penetrate ! 'Twas no sinecure to be a Governor in those days ! But what opportunities they had, sir ! I do not envy them their renown ; but, by heaven ! I do envy them their opportunities ! They say every hour hath its man, but does every man have his hour, think you 1 Is there not many a man ready and longing for action, but lacking opportunity 1 They say men will follow if they be well led. I think I could lead,, if I had anywhere to lead to. But I lack opportunity ! " A dark flush mantled in his cheeks as he said this. He was not a tall man, but as he drew himself up to his full height, he looked every inch a commander; and obeying an involuntary impulse, Noel exclaimed, — "Well, sir, opportunity may yet come to some of us of this generation, and if so, and you'll lead, I'll follow ! " "You're a fine well-plucked young fellow, and I thought so the instant I saw you," returned Arnold, holding out his hand. " Who knows ? Opportunity ina?/ come ! " In the New Haven coach next day Dr. Arnold and j\Ir. Branxholm were the only passengers. Arnold talked a great deal to his young companion, who was more and more im- pressed by the intellectual grasp which marketl all his observa- tions. " We are being united," he said, " by the very means which 'twas hoped would disunite us. 'Tis, I'm told, the fashion in the House of Commons to lay all the blame on the shoulders of New England, and to praise the fidelity of Virginia, New York, and the South. They are mistaken. Virginia, at least, is as staunch at heart as Massachusetts or Connecticut. The fat Quaker-traders of Philadelphia preach peace as yet ; but, if I'm not much mistook, they'll show at least as much spirit in this quarrel as in their quarrels with Virginia and Maryland. We only need one outrage to unite us. Penn- sylvania will forget her quarrel with Virginia, the Southern States their sorenesses among themselves ; New York and New Hampshire will cease wrangling over the grants. And, once united, we cannot fail ! " He spoke much of the best points for attack and defence, and of how much might be done by sea. " On this coast we are greatly blessed in harbours," he remarked; "but New ,V/ 48 A GREAT lllEASOX. [iHAl'. Londou fur excels both Providence and New Haven — our Kew Haven luirbour is mined by the niiul-banks." The wliolc country, ho told Noel, was preparing. Volun- teers were in training, military stores were being accumulated. " And," he added with a caustic smile, — " Dr. Peters is diligently writing home accounts of all our doings, under cover of harndess letters on the l)u.-'. Being extremely anxious to reach Ogletiiorpe as soon as pos- sible, Noel pushed on from New Haven, and getting into the line of the stages between New York and Philadelphia, his progress was somewhat quicker. But once arrived at Phila- delphia, he found that he must shift for himself for the rest of the journey. Very disquieting reports met him there. The whole of the country west of the Blue Ridge was up. A large body of Cherokees, Wyandots, Shawanese, and, indeed, ail the Five Nations, had come over the Ohio River, and were wasting the country and murdering the inhabitants as they went. Noel was lucky enough to hear of a party of five or six " receivers," as the travelling agents of the Virginian planters were then called. These persons were the commercial travellers of those regions, and often added a little trading on their own IX.] BIRDS OF ILL OMEN. 49 account to the business of tlieir enii)loyei's. As they always went armed, and knew the country well, Noel was exceedingly glad of the protection their numbers aftbrded ; and as the son of Colonel Branxholni of Oglethorpe he was received into their company without demur. The party travelled on horseback, accompanied by a couple of wagons, drawn by the gigantic horses of Pennsylvania. In the high mountain gorges between the Alleghanies and the Blue Ridge the Avintcrs are very severe, and tlic snow lies late on into the spring. Even in a somewhat mild winter, a journey through this region was a considerable undertaking, though nothing to the hardships which the fur-traders encountered beyond the Alleghanies, in what is now the State of Ohio. It was not till Christmas Eve that the travellers reached Oglethorpe. Noel had the first sight of his home as the cavalcade defiled through the forest. The road wound along with many shai*p turns, and at one of these, where the trees grew sparse, and the thick underwood had been burned — leaving blackened patches, thinly covered with snow — a tolerably wide prospect became visible. Down in the bottom, the Shenandoah, like a gleaming serpent, slid over its rocky bed. Across the river, the valley rose more gradually, and opened out wider ; and on a knoll, about half-way between the river and the spot where the forest began again, stood a long, low white house, with a turret, crowned by a cupola. The valley there was so wide that the sun shone full on the ground all around the hoase, and the west- ward windows seemed on fire. A slight mist which rose from the river, somewhat detaching the knoll from the rest of the landscape, gave a singularly romantic appearance to the house. A very moderate exercise of the imagination would have sufficed to see in this white-walled dwelling an Enchanted Palace, behind whose shining windows the Beauty of the Sleeping Wood might lie awaiting the Fairy Prince. So tangled was the low bnish- wood across the river, so solemn a guard was kept by the ever- green oaks near by, and the sombre pines on the distant topmost ridge, that, fomiliar as the scene was to Noel, he was almost overpowered by the sight. His heart beat so fast that it seemed as if it would suffocate him. His travelling com- panions observed his emotion. " It do look a lonesome place — won'erful lonesome," said one of them. " 'Tis a pretty place, too. Maybe it's tlie dazzle o' the snow, lyin' about here an' there, an' sorter dazzlin' yer eyes, VOL. I. E / :i 60 A CHEAT TREASON. CHAP. as makes it look so straiij^o-like. Don't you be dn-wu-hcarlcil, Mr. Branxholin," lie continued, givin.<]^ voice to Noel's own thought ; " tlier' ain't nothin' wron^-, tlicr' ain't. Injuns leaves more marks behinil 'em." We can knoAV nothing of the horror of such fears as those to which the receiver alluded — nor of the mad fury, tlie longing to lead a war of extermination, wliieli ';hook Noel, as they urged their horses through the swift shallow stream, and up the bank. In times of Indian wars, homesteads such as tliis, as fair and peaceful as this at sundown, had been a heap of blackened ashes by a little after dawn. Noel's nerves were so highly wrought that he started as if he had been shot, as a hoarse voice croaked, — " I see you !" " That's only the one-eyed raven — Fcbus, don't they call him ? " said the receiver who had spoken before. " If half the tales about liim be true, you'll have fair waruin', any way." A huge black raven was circling in the air above them. "Yes, that's PolyiDhemus," said Noel, wliistlingto the bird. But Polyphemus contented himself with croaking out, — " I see you ! " and, spreadiiig his enormous wings yet wider, flew away towards the house, v/hence the deep baying of dogs was pre- sently heard. Noel Avas recognised and greeted by several negroes, botli men and women, long before he reached the house. Some of them had carried the news (or perhaps tlie party had been seen descending the valley), for as they rode up, Noel saw his father and mother standing in the verandah. Before he could reach the door, he was fairly besieged by negroes of all ages and both sexes, "who crowded round him, kissed his hands and his horse, and exhibited the utmost delight. " Now no more fear ob Injuns," said one old lady, in a red petticoat and a white night-gown, with a very bright yellow handkerchief twisted round her head. Several dogs rushed up from various directions, and others, probably chained, were heard barking fni-iously. The enchanted palace was wide awake, and its charmed silence liad given place to a hubbub like that of a market-place on market-day. " Welcome home, Mas'r Noel ; you's come in de nee' o' time," said old Uncle Memnon, whose full name was Agamem- non, but who could never get the ''niggers" to give him the other half. "Welcome home, Mas'r Noel!" said Nebuchadnezzar, the I I ix.l BIRDS OF ILL OMEX. tc' o' ', the steward, a paiticiilarly ooal-l)lack' iiei^ro, who was more jjomp- ous, and moro alive to the rcsiionsi1)ilitie.s and dignities of his office than the Governor himself — indeed, in his secret heart, Nebuchadnezzar believed that the ordering of affairs at Ogle- thorpe was .1 matter of difficulty and importance quite equal to rhe ordering of the Province of Virginia. Amidst all this confusion, Noel saw his mother running forward to meet him, and heard her cry, — " jMy dear boy ! oh., my dearest boy !" She thrcAV her arms round him almost bfOtre he had fairly dismounted, and all in a flutter, half weeping, half laughing, drew his head down till she could ki-^s hii^' lips, while the assembled negroes uttered cries of delight, and the dogs leaped madly round him. Amidst these demonstrations of Avelcome, Is'ocl was taken into the house between his parents, who alter- nately embraced him, and asked him a thousand questions — the first being, — ''Had he seen any Indians on the I'oad?" As the m.other and son stood together, her hands clasped over his arn;, the resemblance between them was very sti-ong. I\Irs. Branxholm was tall, and her figure was still as slencier as a girl's. Her complexion had been very fine, but was now somewhat sallow by daylight ; but she was still a very hand- some woman, and her eyes — which could be languid or brilliant according to her mood — were a second (or to s})eak more cor- rectly, a first) edition of Noel's ow^n, Mrs. Branxholm w^is precisely Avhat she seemed at first sight — impulsive, wilful, w\arni-tempered, and warm-hearted, capable perhaps of some follies, but also of great generosities; like most Virginians, indolent and careless so long as there was no particular call for energy, but possessed of a spirit which could always rise to the height of the occasion. Her husband, who in his youth had been reputed the hand- somest man in Western Virginia, was probably a more striking figure at fifty than he had been at tAventy-five. He was not quite so tall as his son, but was perfectly well made, and of great strength and activity. His appearance was made more remarkable by his hair having turned a very fine soft iron-gray, while his eyebrows were still as dark as ever. Tliis contrast — which may be seen in many of the portraits of the powdered gentlemen of the day — gave him an air of aristocratic refine- ment, borne out by the thin -bridged nose, and the mouth almost too delicate for a man. He wore his own hair tied y\ 52 A GREAT TREASOX, [chap. in a queue ; anp('s of a mountain. Vast spaces of bhiclcened underwood siiowcd that the forest had been tired — perhaps by tlie same thumh'r- bult which liad Wasted a stately spruce pine, '.riie dead i)in(' rose bleached and skeleton-like among the living trees — which were mostly evergreens — and gave the spot a ghastly horror, as of death in life. The place was gloomy even at mid-day ; at night, Avith the spectre pine standing sentinel, it was a fit spot f )r a Avitches' sabljath. At high moon, the light which penetrated these withered glades was a sickly greenish twilight, like the light in an ocean cavern. There was a horrible stillness, bx'okeii only by the far-distant note of the cock-of-the-woods, or the crcitk of the carriage-wheels a'5 they sank deep ir. the black soil. The day had clouded over, a little fine snow was falling, ai;d a deadly chill struck through the air. Suddenly, a piercing blast, keen as a knife, swept by, and the ghostly ^orest shrieked and r red, the trees rocked and cracked, the horses plunged and reared, aud snorted with terror, and became so unmanageable that two of the outriders had to dismount and lead thfiu. This delay saved the lives of the whole party, Ibi- 11 second and fiercer blast was followed by a wilder uproar, and Avitli a terrific crash, the skeleton pine came rattling to the ground, and lay right across the road, not twenty yards in front of the carriage. The travellei's had no time to realise their almost miraculous escape, for the horses struggled so violently that the carriage was very nearly overturned. Fortunately, the grouns disputed. She even had the presumption to ask her husband what he would have said had she herself made free with Tom Gardener, as he did Avith pretty Molly the milkmaid. IMr. Digl)y's YO])]y was profane, l)ut illogical — he had a mind above logic, and uiuld ncA'cr haA'^e been convinced against his Avill. It Avill thus be seen that ]\Ir. Digby Avas scarcely a man to inspire his children Avitli a passionate allection. After his wife's death (.•hich happened about six years before his own), he at first gave himself up to the unrestrained enjoyments of a bachelor's life — enjoyments AA'hich he found so expensive, that ills already l)urdened estate soon refused to support them. Ills health failing about the same time, he made tiiis an excuse for rrtrenchinent. But people said that he AA'as more broken than could be accounted for by these caii-os. He rapidly degenerated into a peevish iuA'alid, and became utterly dependent on his daughter, Avhom he had ncA'er much liked in his secret heart. She was, he thought, a stuck-up minx, Avith her mother's faddles. Fred he had found more to his taste, but too much disposed to dangle at the AA'omen's ai iron-strings. Some circumstances attending Mr. Digby's death, combined with the discovery of his faulty title, gave colour to the rumour that his death had been voluntary — a belief AA'hich Althea secretly sb.vrcd, although she ucATr admitted it. The fortunate claimant of the estates, a person originally brought up in a nmch loAver station in life than that to Avhich his title raised him, behaved in the matter Avith a certain coarse good-nature, and liad even i)roposed that Miss AUhea should uiarry him, and tlius to some extent "make things comfortable," — thus he phrased it. But Altliea did not acce^it this AA'ell-intended offer, to Avhich her brother Avould hardly alloAV her to return a dignified refusal — ho Avished to reply Avith a horseAvhip, and Althea Avas veiy glad to get him safe out of England and the Avay of tempt- ation. She and her brother had each a A^ry small fortune, left them by their grandmother ; but their position in England was badly changed. It seemed therefore a very happy escape, when ■■'% XI.] SO^IE FA'PERIEXCES OF LIEUTEXAXT DIGBY. «3 letters from Aiuoru'ii lu-()u;;ht an invitation to the yonng people to make their home ■with a Avidowed eoiipin, avIio further informed them of the death of their father's uncle, a very aged man, who had gone out to Virginia some fifty years before, and ■who had made a Will in their favour. The same .shi}) brought a more fnrmal announcement of this, in the f-liape of a lawyer's letter. Tiiere ■were, however, certain informalities in the "Will, and it was possible that Fred and his sister might after all only inherit as next of kin, along with several cousins. Lieutenant Digby's loss of fortune had obliged him to sell his conunission in the Dragoons, and he was very glad to accejit an opportunity of exchanging into a regiment then (quartered at Boston. It is a great descent from a horse rigiment to a foot, and the sudden collapse of one's fortunes, just at one's entrance into life, is trying to the most ])liilosoplii(! niiml. Both Fred and his sister felt bitterly that life had clianged, and that England itself had grown strange, when their ancestral home was left to its new and uncongenial lord. But they were young. Fred was sanguine, and Altlua had a high spirit, of the temper which rises higher in nn'sfortune. When a new prospect — a new world — opened before them, tluMr courage revived. Life would be easier where their story was less ■well known. Under other circumstances, a voyage to the Colonies in IT?.'') might not have appeared a great piece of good fortune, but now it was an escape from scenes and people too closely connected with the past ; and it presently began to offer the ja'omise of something more. Like all young soldiers, Fred longed for Avhat he called "a brush," and a lirush was every day more and more likely to occur. I grieve to own that he fairly gloated over the thought of shortly enjoying the chance of cutting down Mr. Hancock or Sam Adams ; and saw himself, in his mind's eye, called up by the Governor to receive on the steps of the Province House a public compliment for his gallant behaviour. As he had plenty of animal spirits and an excellent diges- tion, even the exchange from a crack cavalry regiment into the '29th Foot did not materially depress him. True, lie would occasionally observe, that it was cursed hard to have no better a beast to ride than John IMcin's sorrel, which he had seen adver- tised at Knox's London Booh Store in King Street — "N.B. A saddle horse for hire." But he secretly felt it to be harder still, that in spite of his onc-and-twenty years, his five feet eleven I) .1 / iif' 64 A GREAT TREASON. [cnAP. and three-quarters, a sea voyage, ami misfortunes, his chiu was still so smooth, tiiat when he went every morning to have his hair dressed at the barber's who had charge of the heads of the officers of the 29th, the knight of the brass basin never failed to say — an briskly as though it Avere rather a subject for con- gratulation, — "No shaving yet, Lieutenant, I think"" and cheerfully set to work with pomade and powder. Lieutenant Digby usually studied the Mamtchusetts Gazetle for the benefit of the interior of his skull, while the barber was cultivating tlu^ exterior. He would devote his first attention to the advertisements, both as affording the easiest reading, and also because he was always on the look-out for a better horse. However the lawyers might decide about Uncle Joe's will, he was sure to come in for enough to keep a tolerable hack, and the sorrel would, he felt, be intolerable nuieh longer; his only recommendations were that he was always to be had (for no one else could endure his paces), and that he was to be had cheap. "But he's dear at any money," thought Fred, sMfting uneasily under the barber's hands. " I'm as stiff' as a poker before I've rode him ten miles." The Lieutenant was not perfectly ingenuous with himself in these mental complaints of the sorrel. But in the simplest of us there is an odd duality — sometimes, indeed, a plurality. As Mrs. Malaprop admirably puts it, we are all three gentle- men in one. Fred Digby would have put up wdtli the sorrel's paces for some time longer, if he had not seen a smile cross Miss Fleming's face the last time she saw him on that Rosinante. The idea of appearing as a figure of fun in Miss Fleming's eyes was distraction ; the Lieutenant's mind refused to entertain it, and took refuge in the less shocking thought that his brother-officers could not possibly admire the sorrel, although good -nature had led them to speak leniently of his defects. But in the deepest recesses of his soul he knew that Miss Fleming had smiled. That Jasper Fleming, who was with her, had smiled also was beyond a doubt, — Digby cordially hated him for it, — but the sharpness of the iXmg lay in Miss Fleming's smile. There was an amazing variety in the advertisements in the Gazette Snake and jack watch-chains ; canes and rattans ; patent ass-skin for pocket-books ; cake -blacking, and Daffy's elixir ; lady's Josephs and riding-habits ; dimothy, callimancoes, mantua silks, satins, taflfeties, pompadores, and flowered gauzes; I XI. SOME i:XP]:f{IEXCES OF LIEUTENANT DKJliV ijo Miss Is in ms; Iflfy's poes, izesj l)liic, piuk, and wliite aliiiuodcs and persians ; figured pclongs, Eiiiflish daniaskf*, striped and brocaded llltestrill<,^s ; camblets •striped and plain ; bonibazecns, buckrams and duffles ; tlu'cad mitts and kid ^1 i I' / li THE BOSTON PORT-BILL. Oulldford, Now may Ilc.ivon's curse Lie on their heads tliat are tlie cause of this ! Lady Jam: Gkkt. Mr. Fleming's prophecy that " somctliinf? would have to be done " was not long unfulfilled. Almost before the boys had ceased searching Dorchester beach for the tea which the sea cast up there in wind-rows like seaweed, the Boston Port-Bill was passed, and in the second week of May the first news of it was brought by a ship which had sailed from the Downs on tlie 10th of April. Two or three days afterwards, on the 15th, and while a town-meeting is sitting to consider what shall be done, the bill itself arrives, along with the new Governor — for Ministers have thought it politic to yield to the clamour about the letters so far as to supersede Governor Hutchinson. The new Governor, Thomas Gage, was with Braddock — poor foolish, pragmatical, but brave and kind-hearted Braddock — on that disastrous day upon the Monongahala, and helped to carry the dying Genend off the field, but has not learned by his example not to despise his enemy. He, too, is a kind-hearted man, mild and affable, but feeble of will. He lands to the music of the batteries, and is met by the members of both Houses of the Legislature, — the Councillors as resplendent as the rainy day will allow, in white wigs and scarlet cloaks, — and so goes up King Street in solemn procession, his commission borne before him, and Han- cock's cadets escorting him to the Province House. Among the seven companies drawn up in King Street to salute him, are the Boston Grenadiers, with their lieutenant, Knox the bookseller. The new Governor much admires their military appearance, and politely returns their salute — perhaps thinkiiif^ the while of poor Braddock's last words, — "We shall know better how to deal with them next time." But this time it is not Indians, but Hancock and Sam Adams and the Faction, with whom he must deal. And so, with the Boston Port-Bill in his pocket, he goes up King Street to the State House, ^\ liile the heavens lower and the people are cold. The Boston Port-Bill is, in fact, a bill to kill Boston. On > XII.] TIIK I'.OSTON PORT. 151 T,r>. 71 t i and uftor the first day of June next ensuing, the Custom-house is to be chised — as we close up a dead man's eyes. After twelve o'clock at noon that day, no ship may come in, no sail be unfurled, no ferryman convey so nuich as a passenger or a pound of sugar over to Charlestown, not a lighter may land hay from the islands, nor a boat bring sand from the hills on the mainland, nor a snow take in iron or timber, nor a float land sheep, nor a farmer bring over his produce. ** Boston was ; Boston rebelled; Boston is no more;" so it shall be written in the annals of the kingdom beyond the Great Water. But when Greek joins Greek then comes the tug of war. If Lord North, Granville, Sandwich, Townshend, and even the King himself, were obstinately determined never to give in, and to vindicate British prerogative, the Colonics were quite as obstinately determined never to give in either, and to maintain their rights. No Englishman need be ashamed to read the story of how New England wrestled a iiill with Old England and overcame. The Colonists were English too — caelum noii animum mutant qui trans mare curnint. By Englishmen, Englishmen were worsted in the fight. The newspapers of the Faction went into mourning. The Tory newspapers lifted up their voices and crowed long and loud. Papers were mysteriously distributed (as had been begun as long ago as February), warning the popular party to pause ere it was too late, and bidding them remember Wat Tyler. And so on the 1st of June the doors of the Custom-house are shut to the tolling of the bells of Boston ; and Governor Hutchinson departs, taking with him the hatred of his native country, for a name which once had a fair prospect of an honour- able place among the Governors of Massachusetts. The closing of the Custom-house doors is, like the opening of those of Janus, a declaration of war. Still persistently taking the pettiest view of the question, as a mere traders' quarrel, the British Government reckons on playing one town against another ; Boston's loss is to be Salem's gain. But the people of Salem, assembled in town-meeting, inform Governor Gage that not only has Nature made Boston a far more convenient port than Salem, but that they abhor the thought of profiting by their neighbour's misfortune. Further, they, with many other towns, appoint a Committee of relief, and generally so comport themselves that the Governor feels that I ^ , I i 72 A GREAT TREASON. [rllAr. he lias to do with a hydra, whereof, so soon is lie cuts off one head, others sjjring up to defy him. li; is true that the friends of Government, with Mr. Harrison Gray among them, present him with an address of regret at the doings of the IMohawks, and offer to help pay for the tea. But the bells of New York have been tolled, and the Bill is being hawked about the streets of that city, printed on mourning paper, and headed, Barbarous, Cruel, Blootip, anti 3nljuman 9?urDer. Worse still, the House of Burgesse... )f the loyal Province of Virg'niahas appointed tiie 1st of June as a solemn fast-day ; for which Lord Dunn , ore instantly sends them about their busines.^. The Massachusetts Assembly has been removed to Salem — the last Assembly ever to meet under the Charter. They too wish to appoint a fast-day, and do pass a resolution for a general meeting of Committees from the Provinces, and appoint five of the rankest rebels among them to represent themselves. Finally, they vote five hundred i)ounds of public money to the said Committee, and when the Governor refuses his assent, ]iass a resolution "recommending" (a euphemism for " enjoin ") the several towns and districts to raise the money themselves. Tiiey are diligently engaged in passing as many resolutions of a like seditious nature as they possibly can before they are dissolved, when the Governor's secretary knocks at the door. It so happens, however, that the door is locked ; indeccl, Sam Adams has by way of precaution put the key in his pocket. The audacious Assembly send word by the House-messenger that they have ordered the doors to b(; kept flist. Whereupon Mr. Secretary makes proclamation on the stairs thai this Assembly is dissolved — proliably tlie briefest proclamation ever made, having been drawn up in hot haste, to stop the debate as soon as possible. Mr. Secretary has scarce had time to shake the dust of Salem ofi' his feet, before tlic Governor hears that a General Congress is to be held in Philadelphia, which may be called a loyal city. That Philadelphia should ask for a Congress is a bad sign indeed. To this Congress, the Massachusetts deputies set forth in a coach-and-four, with two white servants, well mounted and armed, and four blacks in livery behind, two on foot and two on horseback. Sam Adams has been rigged out by his friends for the occasion, in a fashionably-made coat, an elegant cocked hat, and red clonk, with shoe- and knec-bucklcs, and x-.r.l THE 150ST0N rORT-l^ILL. 1 ; guld-hcadecl cane, all complete ; for if " a guinea never glistened in his eyes," it was not because he had too many of them — his estate having never recovered his father's unlucky connection with the Land Bank. All this time regiments have been coming into Boston and encamping on the common. Boston fairly l)ristles with warlike preparations ; and people in England write to warn their friends in America of " more to follow ; " of, for instance, at this ])rcsent moment, seventy -eight thousand guns gone down to fcsheerness ready for shipment. Th(>re is a strong guard set at Boston Neck. All this is injury — to which Governor Gage adds insult, by issuing on the 4tli of August a Proclamation for the Encouragement of Piety and Virtue, containing a par- ticular warning against hypocrisy. Meanwhile, the "Sons of Liberty" and the other clubs are actively organising future resistance. The clubs meet in garrets, in rooms behind shops, and pretty often in Liberty Hall, \mder the spreading boughs of the Liberty Tree, which tree has borne a goodly crop of fruit since the Boot with the Devil peeping out of it was hung tiiere in honour of Lord Bute, these ten years since. The Sons of Liberty — of whom Paul Revere is one — meet at the Greoi Dvar/on tavern, where they talk about Oliver (*r«mwell, and remind each other of the Glorious Revolution — r-iwearing at each meeting to reveal nothing which passes Init to Adams, Hancock, Dr. Warren, and Dr. Church. Dr. Church, who, like AVarren, is a physician, delivered one of the most clo- ([uent orations on the anniversary of the Boston massacre. He is also a poet, and has written many stirring liberty songs, and has lifted up his voice in the cause of liberty with a passionate fervour almost surpassing the enthusiasm of Warren himself. For all this, Paul Revere has never (piite made up his mind about the Doctor. He seems a "high son of liberty" — as high as any. But unpleasant circumstances are always happen- ing — undoubtedly, some one from time to time informs tlie Governor of the club proceedings. A well-meaning friend, warn- ing Paul Revere that the way of rebellion leadeth to the gallows, ([notes to him certain words used at the last meeting. There is a traitor ; but who is he 1 Revere looks round the table, and his eye always comes back to the face of Dr. Church. Possibly his suspicions are prompted by the knowledge that the Doctor's purse is rather low. It is said, too, that he sometimes parodies his own patriotic songs fir the delectation of the Tories. 7:»- 74 A GREAT TREASON. [chat, i i ' n Be this as it may, there are more than enough sincere and honest rebels for the Governor's peace of mind. Gage is sitting upon a mine, which he is doing his best to spring. The people are arming everywhere. Every sliip from England brings news of fresh measures of coercion to be adopted, and exasperation nms higher every day. No juries will serve, and the clerks who issued the warrants to summon the jurjTuen have abjectly apologised for doing so. The Court-houses are thronged by mobs determined to have no sitting. Mr. Hancock was deprived of his commission as Colonel ; whereupon the Governor's Cadets disbanded themselves. It is the time of year for the annual muster of the militia — they have been with the utmost diffi- culty restrained from marching straight on Boston, and " raising the siege," as they call it. In the town, collisions between the soldiers and the people are of almost daily occurrence. In September, a rumour spreads over half the Continent that Boston is being bombarded. As ■winter approaches, the selectmen will not allow the carpenters to work at the barracks. There are constant rumours of the seizure of arms and powder ; one such seizure was made at Cambridge, and very nearly brought about a rupture. AH this while the General Assembly, sitting in Carpenter's Hall at Philadelphia, is laying the foundation of a nation. Some of the delegates already perceive the scope of what they do ; others still think reconciliation possible ; but they all work together, and they are gaining time. ^Il i CHAPTER XIII. LIEUTENANT DIGBY ASKS FOR LEAVE. Boston being, under these circumstances, most consumedly dull. Lieutenant Digby was very well pleased to receive a letter (by the Philadelphia post-rider) from Noel Branxholm, containing a pressing invitation to spend the summer at Oglethorpe. " My mother is writing to Miss Digby," added Noel, " to bog her to honour us by accompanying you ; and we may also ask you to do us the favom' of allowing my cousin Miss Mary Fleming to travel under your escort, if, as I much fear, my brother cannot get away. Mary nearly always spends her summers with ub, and I think will give a good account of us, if if XIII.] LIEUTENANT DIG BY ASKS FOR LEAVE. to you ask her. Of,'letliorpe is not so i\ir from your uncle's planta- tion, as we reckon distance in Virginia, but that you can com- bine business with what I trust you will not find undeserving the name of pleasure." Within an hour of receiving this friendly missive, Lieutenant Digby might have been seen diligently employed in mending a pen — an art in which his skill was not conspicuous. However, after sacrificing half-a-dozen goose-quills, he at last succeeded in producing a nib which did not splutter much, and with this lie proceeded to indite a respectful request to his Colonel for a six-weeks' furlough, " to go to Virginia on i)rivate business." " I'll say six weeks " he decided, after biting an inch or so off the end of his quill by way of an aid to reflection. " i can ask for an extension afterwards. He coiddn't expect private business to take less than six weeks," Having sanded, folded, sealed, and directed his letter, he left it with his own hands at his Colonel's lodgings, and not till then went to call upon his sister and ascertain her intentions, wondering whether, in case she declined to go — for Fred had a high opinion of his sister's obstinacy — he would be expected to escort Miss Fleming from the outside of the coacli, or Mliether he might with propriety ride inside — always supposing that detestable Yankee fellow did not go too, and spoil every- thing. AKhea (who had by this time received her own invitation, under cover to Mrs. Maverick) had not the least intention of declining, and appeared surprised when Fred said, — " I shall go ; this is a very good opportunity to look up matters in Virginia, and then I can consult Uncle Joe's law^'er in Philadelphia on my wav. But, of course, Allv, you aint obliged to go, because I do——" " Why should I not go ?" asked Althea, opening her fine ryes wider in sui'priije. " Mrs. Branxholm is an old friend of Cousin Maverick's, and I cannot see what excuse I could find for refusing to visit her. Do you see any impropriety in my going 1 " "II bless me ! no. I'm sure I can't for the life of rae see any," returned Fred. " I'm sure I never meant " " You must have meant something," persisted Althea, who was annoyed. " I can only suppose you meant to hint that the presence of Mr. Noel Branxholm makes it improper that I should visit his family. I confess "' '4 j; ii i I U i tU !, a / i t i(i 76 A GREAT TREASOX. [chap, " Ton my soul, Ally, I never meant anythin^f of the kind," protested the luckless Fred, as red as a turkey-cock. " I am glad you did not, brother," said Althea, with Avithcring calm, " because if we are to be so extraordinary discreet, I wonder you think it projier to visit Oglethorpe while Miss Fleming is there." "Then she is going?" asked Fred, with the slightest ])ossible emphasis on the word " is." " She may not — and probably will not — care to travel under your escort, when she learns that I am declining," said the cruel Althea, relentlessly determined to punish Fred, and now seeing her way to do so effectually. " But are you not going, Ally 1 What on earth has made you change your mind 1 Of course there's no harm — I mean, ( )f course, no one would ever go on a visit anywhere, if they was never to go where there was anybody — and Oglethorpe is like another home to Mary — Miss Fleming, I mean — and Avhy she shouldn't go — or you either, entirely passes my comprehension." As Fred floundered helplessly in the toils of this sentence, Althea watched him witli much inward enjoyment. " What an ass I was to say anything !" thought the unhappy P'red. " She'll think now I wanted to prevent her going, when all I wanted was to prevent her from wanting to jn-event me going." " I am not aware of having changed my mind," remarked Althea, who meant that Fred should ]}ay the uttermost farthing. " 'Twas you that raised objections. I have not had time yet to consider. As you say, however, i/oh can go. As for Miss Fleming, every one expects 'twill be a match between her and Noel." Having planted this arrow ftiirly in the bull's eye, Althea carelessly rose, and observing that she would tell Cousin ]\Iaverick Fred was there, left the room with an easy self- iwsscssion which completed her brotlier's discomfiture, leaving that gallant officer a prey to his own self-contempt. •' What an ass I was ! What a confounded ass !" he thought. " She'd never have thought of refusing, and Ave might all have fitted in like clockwork. I don't believe Noel cares a pin about Mary Fleming — he's over head and ears in love Avith Ally. She might do a deal Avorse. Cousin Maverick says they'll make the Yankees pay for all, and let the rest doAvn easy. I'm sure I don't Avisli to stand in her Avay." Fred had just registered a voav never again, so long as he XIII.] LIEUTENANT DIOBV ASKS FOK LICAVK. 11 lived, to jtit lii.s wits against his sistev's, — an oucounter in which he invariably came utl" second best, jn'rhaps ])y reason of her eighteen niontiis' seniority, — when slie returned Avitli ]\[rs. Maverick. Mrs. M-iverick took for granted that the in- \itation woukl be accejjted, and thus opened a dignitied retreat to Althea. "/ sliall .step across and call upon Mrs, Fleming, my dear," .«aid the diitlomatic ^l\\^. Maverick. "Mary is a very cliarming girl, and there is no objection to you knowing her — in Virginia. But it is perhaps better you sli.>uld not visit her too often in Boston just at the present crisis of afiairs, as her father and cousin are so excessive violent in their opinions, and we ought to mark our disapprobation as nuich as iw.'^sible." Having, as we know, a deeply-rooted antipathy to the person and principles of Mr. Jasper Fleming, the Lieutenant cheerfully acquiesced in this decision. Noel's letter reached Boston early in June. In it ho referred to the Indian troubles as still rumbling in the dis- tance, but as too far away to affect Oglethorpe ; but news travelled slowly and uncertainly in those days (though now and then the news of some great calamity would s])read with mysterious rapidity), and Noel did not know, when he sent his invitation, tliat on the 1\i\\ of May there had been a shocking ati'air at a tavern on the banks of the Ohio. A number of Indians had been murdered while drunk — among them a woman — and a fresh impulse was given to outrage. But most of these horrors took pluce on the far-distant Ohio, and nothing worse than a panic had even yet reached Oglethori)e. But when the party from Boston (of which Jasper Fleming did not form one) arrived at Philadt'li)hia, they found Noel await- ing them Avith a little troop of those Virginian backwoodsmen, whom their countrymen loved to call "hearts of hickory." In their hunting-shirts and their deer-skin legging.s, Avitli hatchet and powder-horn slung over their shoulders, pouch and knife at their sides, and musket in hand, they looked like the sylvan soldiers they were. After the first greetings had been exchanged, Noel cxjilained that news had reached Oglethori)e a few days before, that several meml)ers of the family of Logan, the friendly chief of the Cayugas, had been murdered by Cai)tain Cresop. liackwoodsmen were not always careful to make distinctions. The explorers had been robbed ; the white men retaliated, and the unoffending family of Logan were the victims. Logan had , ! ^i ' t ^ :l ji !l Ih ,i^ 78 A GREAT TREASON. [CHA.P. sworn to take a terrible revenge ; and although the defences were so well organised that it was e: remely improbable any attack would be made so far from the i settled border-lands, Noel had collected a score or so of his fatlier's troop, and had brought them as an escort across the mountains. They were all mounted on rough serviceable animals, and when they saluted the ladies in military fashion, Althea was reminded of some of the chapters of old romance over which she had pored in her grandmother's library. Nor was Noel in appearance un- worthy to be the captain of this gallant little company. " He looks like a young hero riding to the field of honour," she said to Mary, who blushed as red as her own hood at this compli- ment to her cousin. "Well, ladies, what say you? Will you brave the perils of the wilderness under our escort, or will you return to Boston until more peaceful times \ " asked Noel, when he had explained the situation. Althea looked at Mary. " What do you say, Miss Fleming?" she asked. " I am not afraid," said Mary. " Noel would not gis'e us our choice if there was any real danger." A speech which was certainly dictated by partiality, for Noel had always had a reputation for being rashness itself — as were all the Branx- holms. " As for me," said Althea, unable to resist giving this home-thrust, but giving it with a smile which disarmed it of its stiug, " I may as well go on as go back. If there are Indians in front, there are your Boston friends behind, Mr. Branxholm, who have kept us in daily expectation of smelling powder ever since you left the town." CHAPTER XIV. NOBLE SAVAGES. Lieutenant Digby begged for a day's Jelay in Philadelphia, in order to transact some of that business which had brought him so far f-om home. He was somewhat surprised to find a strong familv likeness between Mr. Accepted Ringold, the Philadelphia attorney, and old Jabez Grabley, his father's lawyer. The same love for roundabout words and deeds, and the same professional horror of a straight line, distinguished XIV.] XOBLE SAVAGES. 79 them both. Both seemed equally convinced that a straight line is the longest distance between two points, and that your truest course is the zigzag. So far as lawyer Ringold could be i)ersuaded to express an opinion, however, he appeared to think that the Will would not hold, and that Mr. and Miss Digby must rest their claim on their relationship to the deceased. " But you say his inten- tions was plain?" asked the Lieutenant, when his mind had opened to receive this idea. " The testator evidently intended you to have the Newbury estate," admitted Mr. Eingold. "But ain't that enough?" urged Fred. "What can you want more than to know what a man means 1 " Mr. Ringold inserted his thumbs in his waiscoat arm])oles (he had laid aside his coftee-coloared coat for greater coolness), and smiled compassionately. " From a soldier's point of view, nothing, my dear sir," he said blandly — " but we require much more in law. However, it is a very pretty case — a very pretty case, indeed — and I fancy the other side would have a good deal of difficulty in proving their point. You see, my dear sir, there are two sides, if not mure, to every ques- tion " " But you aay my uncle's intentions are plain," persisted Fred. Mr. Ringold leaned back farther in his chair, inclined his head to one side, and viewed Fred with a smile of compassionate amusement. " I have very little doubt that so it appears to the military mind, sir," he observed at length ; " but if we slapped things right off like that in law, there's no telling what the consequences would be. Military men are members of a pro- fession which is — I'm sure you'll pardon the observation — accus- tomed to take one-sided views of a subject. Niceness of discrimination, and a habit of carefully weighing the pros and cons, is, I rayther reckon, Lieutenant, incompatible with the profession of arms — or nearly so, nearly so." It was witii a sensation of great relief that Fred quitted the office ot Mr. Ringold ; and he even observed to Noel that he would rather meet an Indian or two than endure another hour of that eminent attorney's society. As they rode out of the town, — the ladies in a covered wagon which Noel had provided, — Altliea saw for the first time an Indian in all his glory. She had seen some half-breeds in Boston — lialf-civilisod hangers-on at the skirts of civilisation, mongrels in habits as well as in blood ; but the train which H 1 •''i }'• . vj njS- l! ) .1 1 \[ I ; I) 80 A GREAT TREASOX, [(JH.M'. met Xocl's party, just where the wide streets of IMiihidelphiji joined the wider open country, was arrayed in all the pomp of savage display. An Indian of a maj^nificent bodily presence and a nir>st dignified countenance marclied first. The great fan of feathers set out round his head showed him to he a eliief. Many rows of wampum beads hung round his neck, and his furs and blanket all bespoke his rank. In his right hand he bore his musket and spear ; a shield, whose boss was the head of the war-eagle, hung on his left arm ; and his bow and arrows and axe were slung behind his back. His followers, in their gaudily- striped blankets, and fully armed, — they all carried nuiskets, — came behind in compact order. All their faces were made fierce by war-paint ; but Noel explained to his friends that this was a deputation of the Turtle tribe of Delawares, with Cai)tain AVhite Eyes at their head, come to assure the children of theii elder brother Miquon — as they called Penn — of their good-\\ ill. They had arrived the day before, and had encamped outside tlie tow n. Noel, who had seen Captain W hite Eyes in his boyhood, hailed him. " Good day, brother Cap .uin White Eyes," he said. " \ know you, though you have forgotten me, I am Noel Ihanx- holm of Oglethorpe, beyond the mountains." "The child grows to the man," said the Indian chief gravely, " but White Eyes does not forget." " They say you are come to bring us peace, brother," said Noel. " What peace, where there are wolves V returned the Sachem. "It is peace with us, but the Sachems of the Five Nations arc digging up the war-hatchet; and I have been insulted," he continued, drawing himself up. "The Senecas have said that they have shortened our legs and put petticoats upon us. But am I not full-grown ? and are not these the arms of a man?" He raised the musket and the spear as he spoke. " If the Five Nations dig up the hatchet, we will fight for you — we that sprang out of this ground." Where they stood, they could see the broad water uf the Delaware, with the woods on the other side. " Farewell, brothei-," said Cai^tain White Eyes, preparing to resume his march into the city ; "and when you come to your father's wigwam b*r;yond the mountains, tell him to beware of Captain Pipe ; he is a Wolf, and his heart is a wolf's heart." " Hurely tiiis is the rioble savagr in person ! " said Althea, when the Indians had gone: on their wny. [chAl'. >f riiiladclpliiii 11 the pitmp of bodily i)resen(f 5t. The grciit m to be a cliief. ck, and his furs t hand he bort' the head of the nd arrows and n their <;audily- ried nuiskets, — ^•cre made tierce that this was a [ Captain Wiiite 11 of thoiv elder jood-will. They utside tlie t«'wu. buyliood, hailed i," he said. " 1 im Noel Uianx- au chief giavely, brother," said ned the Sachem. le Five Nations been insulted," ecas have said icoats upon us. the arms of a he spoke. " If lit for you — wc lul water of the Eyes, preparing leii you come to 1 him to beware a wolf's heart." " said Althea, xiv.l NOBLE SAVAGES. 81 " The Delawares arc mostly friendly," replied Noel ; " but Captain Pipe, chief of the Wolf tribe, is a (hn'il incarnate ; and he would even join with his enemies of the Five Nations to feed his pride and ambition. But Cornstalk, the Shawnee chief, is the worst ; and that tribe is the fiercest of all. They ■ast they have kdled ten times a.s many Englishmen as any other tribe, and 'tis their chief that stirs up all the otliers." " I confess t wonder you seem to make 'em of so mncli account," oliscived Lieutenant Digby, wliose warlike eye had taken the measure of the red men. " Sure a dozen British soldiers could ]nit a hundred -'f 'em to the rout in five minute^, with their bows and arrows, and their clumsy old matchlocks I It has ever been a mv>tery to nie how [lour (jieiitral Braddock was so shamefully viefented l>y them." "i can tell ,vv'V that, M»\ IMuby," unceremoniously broke in the oldest man in \\w tr«u»p, a grizzled weather- beaten old fellow, with (piiv k restless eyes. " I was tl re, an' T\i t<>ll yer eg-zack- vv\y how it cv^ie about. It come aV»out, Mr i>igby, because Gen'ral Ihaddock thought as how Injuns wani't no accoimt. That there mcianchol-ly allair,.sir, come about en-tirely along o' the Gen'ral despisiu' the enemy, institl o' tryin' to find out hf3 Ll>^ r\^^' A \ 33 WeST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. 14S80 (716) $72-4503 q\^^ ^ MB 84 A GREAT TREASON. [chap. I ■ I li hi " I think 'tis Boston seems more like a dream to me," said Mary — not without a shght pang ; for she fancied that she knew what it was that cast such a glamour over the Virginian land- scape for Althea's eyes. " Oh, Boston is real enough ! " said Althea, with a sigh. " I was always in a bad humour in Boston — though I'm sure I can't tell why — but here I will be an angel ! " Noel, however, would scarcely have endorsed this declara- tion. Miss Digby was, it is true, in a very gracious and equable humour. Mary sadly told herself that every one miist see how charming she was ; but although her open brow and smiling mouth seemed to say, "Thus far shalt thou come," there was a something in her eyes, when they were most kind, which added, "but no farther." At least they added this to Noel. To Mary, Althea was affectionate, even demonstra- tive. " I wish you was my sister, Mary," she said to-night, as they sat at the window. " I never had a sister, and ever since my mother died, I have wished I had had one. I love you dearly, Mary ! I doubt you think I'm proud, but 'tis all put on — I don't mind telling you — to hide the weakness I feel within. Tell me, Mary, do you never feel weak ? " " I do not think I have been much tried yet," said Mary — but there was a pathetic tone in her voice as s' c said it, and Althea fancied the moon, which just then slipped out of a little fleece of cloud, sparkled too brightly in her eyes. " Life has gone very gently with me," continued Mary. " I have only had such little clouds as that one over against the moon, which will presently vanish away among the stars. But I've imagined some things that might be too hard for me — things which might But these are mere foolish fancies," she said, sud- denly throwing off the pensive mood into which Althea's ques- tion had beguiled her. " All our lives must have some dark hours, and I shall have mine ; but we will not spoil to-night with thinking of them before they come." "You are so happy here, Mary; you are not plagued with thinking you are only here in a dream. But I know why I feel this sadness," Althea sighed ; " 'tis because this coimtry-house, unlike as it is, yet reminds me of my own old home." " It must have been enough to break yoiu: heart to leave it," said Mary, pressing her friend's hand in sympathy. " 'T would mine, to think I should see this place no more. I always loved the mountains ; 'tis more like a dream to me not to see them. XVI.] ARMIES IN THE CLOUDS. 86 h. "I sure I I I hope I shall awake and find myself here." She laughed as she said it. Althea looked at her two or three times, and then looked away to the misty valley. " There was an old book of ijoetry," she said, " in my dear grandmother's library, that I used to read. It was very long, and I never quite understood the story, but I remember some of the verses. There was one stanza I remember ; it has run in my head all day : It was an hill placed in an open plain, That round about was bordered with a wood Of matchless height, that seemed the earth to disdain ; In whicli all trees of honour stately stood, And did all winter as in summer bud, Spreading pavilions for the birds to bower Which in their lower branches sung aloud ; And in their tops the soaring hawk did tower, Sitting like king of fowls in majesty and pow ; And at the foot thereof a gentle flood, His silver waves did softly tumble down. "I think this place is something like it," said Althea. " There was something, too, about ' fruitfulest Virginia,' and how for so many ages this land was blooming, and no man knew of it. Well, we arc here now. This is our day, let us make the most of it, for, as I read in the same old book : So passeth in the passing of a day, Of mortal life the leaf, the bud, the flower. "Good-night, Mary; I shall go and dream of 'fruitfulest Virginia.' " After Althea had gone, Mary sat long at the window, thinking about a great many things, past, present, and to come, but always returning to the thought that every one would say Althea and Noel were made for each other. i4 1- . , I 1 I : I 1 •I i' CHAPTER XVI. ARMIES IN THE CLOUDS. Mrs. Branxholm, who dearly loved a little gaiety, had scarcely welcomed her guests, before she began to contrive festivities for them. There must be a ball, and the sooner the better, that Lieutenant Digby and his sister might be introduced to as many of their neighbours as possible. '•[ i ■: 11^ i»t 1! In f t , ii '1- I':" I [ r\ : I 86 A GREAT TREASON. [chap. With this end in view, a mighty commotion set in in the kitchen ; Nebuchadnezzar's own peculiar satellites were to be seen, zealously polishing up every bit of silver or brass which the house contained ; and for a couple of days an unsavoury odour, carried by the breeze into the upper windows, proclaimed that a batch of candles was being made in a remote outhouse. At last the day arrived. The house was swept and gar- nished, and the new-made candles placed all ready for light- ing on every available ledge and shelf of the two large rooms in which the dancing was to take place. A couple of wander- ing fiddlers, who had happened to pass by a week ago, had been detained for the occasion, and the supper was to be served in one of the kitchens, which a skilful aiTangement of screens and curtains had turned into a capital supper-room. Many of the guests arrived on horseback — some with their ballroom attire strapped behind them in a valise. Even some of the ladies travelled thus, their hoops arranged behind them, and looking, as they trotted up to the house, like ships with lateen sails. But only the nearest guests came thus — those from greater distances drove for the most part in four-wheeled chaises. The stables were soon nearly as full of four -legged guests as the ballroom was of two-legged, and the whole plantation was alive. When Althea came down, di-essed in an elegant flowered negligee of the palest puce, over a bishop of very moderate dimensions, Mrs. Branxliolm congratulated herself on having left off her own hoop. Mrs. Branxholm's own gown was a very fine gauze, with gray flowers and orange spots on it, made with a stomacher over an orange satin petticoat, and became her very well. Nor were the gentlemen behindhand in finery. Colonel Branxholm appeared in his uniform of blue and red, and Lieutciiant Digby had, after much painful thought, himself de- cided that a man never looks better than in military dress. But he almost wished that he had put on a certain white silk coat and breeches (which, together with a pale-blue embroidered waist- coat, had produced a considerable effect at Bath only last autumn, and might very well pass muster in Virginia as the latest fashion), when he saw Noel leading out his sister for the first quadrille, while the fiddlers tuned their fiddles. " He's a confounded handsome fellow," thought Fred, as he made a leg, and asked for the honour of Miss Fleming's hand in the quadrille. Miss Fleming graciously placed her hand in XVI. ] ARMIES IX THE CLOUDS. 87 the broad palm which the Lieutenant extended — and which held her with a grasp unnecessarily firm — and asked him as they took their places if a hall in England was anything like this ? " The pump-room at Bath is larger," says the Lieutenant, — thinking that white brocade and a carnation knot at the breast is sure the most becoming thing possible for a woman to wear. "But I have never seen handsomer women than are here to- night." The Lieutenant looked so hard at Mary as he said this that she could not help blushing a little ; and to cover her self-con- sciousness she observed that Miss Digby was certainly the belle of the evening. " She is an uncommon fine girl — has always been considered so," said Fred ; *'and then she's got such a spirit ! But there's otlier ladies here to-night that I think full as handsome as Ally." ''How well she and Noel look standing up together !" said Mary presently. Noel had powdered his hair, and his fine complexion was amazingly set off by it. His white satin waistcoat and breeches, and peach-bloom coat, displayed his figure to great advantage, and the thought occurred to Fred that he would be a formid- able rival, and that it was lucky he was so taken up "with Ally as to have eyes for no other woman. With the nearest approach to malice of which he was capable, he observed to his partner, watching her face us he spoke, that Noel was more in his element here than his brother would be. "Jasper is of a graver temper naturally," rejoined Mary calmly ; " but I have danced with him many a time." " The devil you have !" thought the Lieutenant, turning his partner almost savagely, as he saw in imagination Jasper's arm round the waist he was himself clasping. " I beg your pardon, Miss Fleming — I fancied I felt you slip," he said, ashamed of his roughness. Perhaps Althea was not quite as insensible as she jirofessed to be to masculine attractions. At any rate, she talked and laughed with Noel, until he was in the seventh heaven. Then, when she saw that he was on the point of a serious declara- tion, she suddenly exclaimed that she was tired, and sat down beside Mary. It might have been a mere coincidence — but at that moment the fiddles had struck up Yankee Boodle, and Noel fancied that Miss Digby looked annoyed. n I 1' ■'! li' I T t , I 1 I n 88 A GREAT TREASOX. [chap. The droppings of the caudles (which would have been all the firmer if they had not been so lately made) presently drove Mary and Althea from their seat, and Althea proposed that they should step out on the verandah and enjoy the coolness a little. It was a sultry night. The heavens were obscured by a thin veil of clouds, through which only the very brightest of the stars were dimly visible. " How oppressive it is ! " said Mary ; " I can scarce breathe. And what an odd red light there is in the north ! " Althea looked, and saw a curious dusky glow slowly spread- ing over the highest clouds. It could hardly be caused by a fire on the mountains, for their outlines lay as dark and vague as ever against the sky. While the girls were watching it, Lieutenant Digby came out. By that time, the glow had spread over the entire sky — brightening every moment, until the heavens seemed ablaze. It had been perceived by Mrs. Branxholm — who had cried that a comet was coming — and all the guests were crowding out in front of the house. The light was now so brilliant, that shapes could be traced in the clouds — moving masses passing from east to west. With a common movement, Althea and Mary drew closer together, and put each an arm round the other's waist. " What is it ? " whispered Mary, awe-stricken. " What are those clouds like horses ? " At this instant Noel came hastily out on to the verandah. " I have been searching for you everywhere ! " he began. " Have you seen it 'i What is it ? " " Hush !" said Althea, pointing to the east. " It is an army marching — I see the artillery ! " As they looked all present saw the semblance of an army marching through the clouds — cavalry, artillery, baggage-wag- gons — all plainly to be distinguished, while the blaze of that strange splendour spread wider and wider, the shapes grew clearer and clearer^ and the shadowy banners waved above the cloudy host. "There goes a body of dragoons," said Fred, under his breath. " By heaven, I could fancy I make out British uni- forms ! But what are these troops that come behind 1 " For, following close on the lieels of the first army, came another, with serried ranks, under a broad banner, on which Mary thought she saw a device like a pine-tree. The two armies seemed to join battle — the ghostly phalanxes s'svayed to XVII.] DAYS IX ARCADIA. 89 and fro, while the Uood-red light grew more lurid, and the awe- struck spectators fancied they saw the gleam of steel. Then the ranks of the first host broke, and seemed to flee, while the second seemed to pursue. All across the expanse of heaven raged that shadowy conflict, until the last of the pursuing host was lost to sight beyond the western mountains, and there was a sound like a long-drawn sigh as the watchers drew their breath. " You saw it 1 " said Noel, laying his hand on Althea's arm. Even in the fading of that mysterious glow he could see that she was as pale as death — but her eyes met his without flinching. *' I saw it," she said. " Thank God, it was but in the clouds!" At supper, all the talk was of portents and prodigies. Many of the speakers inclined to the belief that the phenomenon they had just witnessed was a warning that a great Indian war was at hand. Noel, who was sitting next Miss Digby, looked at her steadily, and said in a low voice, " Those were no Indians that we saw fighting in the clouds." He said it with a desperate feeling that it would be cowardly to hold his peace. Althea did not reply ; but an involuntary feel- ing of respect awoke in her. She had told herself many times that he was a pretty, amiable boy ; but she was beginning to see that he had some share of his elder brother's temper, and she did not like him the less for it. It was with a very gracious smile that she allowed him to lead her out in the contra-dance which was called for after sujiper. rl 1 I ii 1 ' < CHAPTER XVII. DAYS IN ARCADIA. There followed three or four weeks of a life so perfect, that Althea said they were not in Virginia but in Arcadia. Once or twice the heavens clouded over, and some lightnings flashed across the valley, while the thunder pealed from peak to peak ; but the skirts only of the storms swept over Oglethorpe, and left the landscape more laughing than before. A few rumours, too, came from time to time from beyond the river ; but these died away like the storms. An old Indian chief, named Bald : / IH' l'«' % % i 90 A GREAT TREASON. [chap. Eagle, paid a visit to Ogletliorpe, and sat for some days smok- ing his pipe in the smi, by the juniper tree, near the slaves' quarter, steadfastly watched by Polyphemus, and less persistently by old Uncle Mcmnon — who, having once belonged to Lord Baltimore, was a sort of Sir Oracle, to whom even Nebuchad- nezzar paid some deference. Uncle Memnon took a vast fancy to Miss Digby — who was, he declared, the very moral picture of a young lady he had waited on when he was in my Lord Baltimore's service. To her he confided his sense of his own superiority to the other niggers. "Dey means well," he would say, leaning on his stick, and shaking his snow-white head at her — he was a little man, and bent by .oge, and he was obliged to look up at Bliss Digby. " Bress you, my dear young lady, dey means well ; but dey don' hiow — dey carCt knov/. Nebu- chadnezzar, now — he tink he mighty fine nigger ; I 'scuse him, Miss Digby, 'cos it's natural. It all comes o' not seein' de worl' : ef I not see de worl', I jes' like Nebuchadnezzar. Sho' you, Miss Digby, Ijes like him." Bliss Digby gravely replied that she had learned a great deal in Virginia. " I don' go fer to say as dere aint a deal to lam in Vir- giuny," observed Uncle Blemnon ; " but dere's some as will go on tinkin' bars an' wolves o' dereselves, when dey hadn't oughtn't to tink mo'n mice an' sparrers." Uncle Blemnon uttered these strictures with entire uncon- sciousness that he did not by any means think mice and sparrows of himself. The country seemed so quiet, as the summer went on, that Colonel Branxholm resolved to go to Williamsburg. Those were momentous days for the Virginian House of Representa- tives — a few votes more or less on either side might determine the attitude of the Province. Oglethorpe was far removed from the unsettled border ', and there were several companies of militia under the redoubtable Bleshach Pike, Fred's instructor in wood- land warfare, and other veterans as tough as he. So, with some misgivings, the Colonel set off early one fine July morning, with a very small escort, being unwilling to take too many men from Oglethorpe. Nebuchadnezzar was grievously disappointed at the poorness of the show. He would have had the whole three companies marshalled in the Old Cane Brake (where the Colonel exercised his men) ; and was disgusted to see his master ride off with no more attendance than a receiver, " Dey's white, but XVII.] DAYS IX ARCADFA. 91 (ley ain't no 'count," he obseiTcd with much contempt to Uncle Memnon. " Can't tink what Mas' Edortl tinkin' of, ridin' ofl",s ef he was ashamed o' bein' seen." '*De Colonel knows as dere's Injuns about," said Uncle Memnon. " An' de Colonel berry well — him mighty well, but you can't expec' him to ride 'bout de country like Lord Balti- more." When Uncle Memnon got out Lord Baltimore, Nebuchad- nezzar generally heard himself called. " Lord Baltimore, he mout be all berry well, I don't say he moutn't," he began ; and then — as though a distant sound had at that instant struck on his ear — "Bress me, ef dat ar ain't Mas'r Noel a-callin' — orright, Uncle Memnon, I tell you de res' bimcby. Coinin', Mas'r Noel, sar ! " With this he hurried off, fondly believing that Uncle Memnon would think he had had a crushing rejoinder ready, had time but allowed. But Uncle Memnon knew better. " Ha ! ha !" would that venerable retainer of the late Governor of Maryland chuckle to himself, as he watched the retreating form of Nebuchadnezzar. "Dat nigger tink / tink he got suffin' ever so clever for ter say 'f he like — 's if I didn' know he make hisself call a-puppus, cos he got nujfui' ter say ! Dat ar nigger is so fond o' braggin' — can't cure him nohow." The departure of Colonel Branxholm threw the little party still more together; and as Mr. Butler was also gone to Williamsburg — engaged in an unofficial attempt to persuade the House to a compromise — Oglethorpe was left more dependent on its own resources tiian usual. But Fred at least did not regret this. The unrestraiiied intercourse of country life had convinced him more firmly than ever that ]\Iary Fleming was much too good for any Yankee, and especially too good for her cousin Jasper. The Lieutenant's mind was slow, but tenacious. Having once got it well into his head that Mary was uncom- monly fond of Jasper, he was incapable of even imagining that Noel might be the favoured object — perhiips Mary as yet hardly knew this herself, but Althea had guessed it long ago. Fred hoped that Althea, who was qpnfoundedly coy with Noel, would come round sooner or later. He did not think he was precisely in love with Mary himself — he was simply actuated by the praiseworthy intention of preventing her from throwing herself away on that long-nosed fellow in Boston. With this view he made himself agreeable, and he found virtue its own li- I ;1 ^ I • I 92 A GREAT TREASOX. [chap. htl m y n ii I' it ii It reward — although he wished sometimes that Althea would not stick quite so close to Mary. She did it to avoid a teie-h-tete with Noel, but it was hard on Fred never to get a word with Mary alone. One afternoon, the two girls were sitting at the open win- dow of the dining-room. The day was very hot — too hot, they said, to go out. Noel had promised Fred to go shooting, but he still lingered. The table had been cleared, and the dessert was set on the mahogany, and JNIrs. Branxholm was taking a siesta. Althea (who was not in her usual spirits that day) declared she should soon be asleep too if she did not do something, and getting up, began to examine the queer prints of the Months which adorned the w^alls. There was January, with muflf and tippet, tripping on her wintry way ; March, with skirts flying in the wind ; July, with a large fan, and ruffled elbows ; and August, in a great flapping hat, with a wheat-sheaf in her arms. Un- derneath August stood an old oak table — round when it was fully open, but now only one flap was up. A curious old desk stood on it, and a leaden inkstand. " My grandmother had just such an inkstand as this," said Althea, taking it up, and examining it veiy attentively. " I was once sent to bed for up- setting it. In England, old-fashioned things seem natural, but here they make me melancholy. I wish we did not grow old ! I wish inkstands that dead and gone people have used did not last so long after their fingers are dust ! " " Would you have all trace of the past vanish away 1 " asked Noel. "II" said Althea. "I hoard every ribbon that was my mother's — I have all sorts of trumpery that once belonged to her — 'tis near as good as ever, and she has been dead seven years ! I could hate these foolish relics of her for outlasting her, and yet I love them because they were hers." Both her hearers were surprised. Althea rarely spoke with so much emotion. " What do you say, Mary 1 You are more reasonable than I. Do you ever think of death 1 " " Not often," answered Mary, after an instant's hesitation. " At least, not in that way. I think perhaps we should not think cf it too much, except to love the people that belong to to us all the more, because death must part us some day." *' I knew you would say that, Mary," said Althea. " You XVII.] DAYS IX ARCADIA. 98 are like a clear hrook — all your thoiiglits set the same way ; mine run a dozen ways at once, and give me no peace ! Ditl you ever hate anybody, Mary 1 Did you ever see her angry, j\Ir. Branxholm 1 " " Many times," said Noel, laugliing. "And .she has even boxed my ears — 'twas once when I had torn up Jasper's copy- book in a rage." " And I suppose, as a philosopher, Jasper could not box your ears himself?" said Miss Digby, rather spitefully. " Nay," said Noel, " he was furious — he stood over me with the toi'n leaves in his hand, and cried, * If I wasn't bigger than you, I'd annihilate you for this ! ' Then he w^nt out of the room, and Mary came up to me, and said, ' I'm not bigger than you, so / shall punish you ! ' and dealt me the sharpest box on the ear I ever had in my life." Every one laughed at this story, and Althea seemed to have recovered her spirits. She returned to her seat by the window, and, somehow or other, the talk turned to love. Noel (who had his private reasons for the opinion) declared he believed that all women were no more capable of loving than of speaking French. "I hope the one accomplishment is less rare than 1he other," said Mary gravely. " He is too young to know anything about it," said Althea, leaning back in her chair, and letting her eyes roam far away from Noel — away, across the valley, to where the road was lost among the leafy beeches and maples. " We all have our own way of loving," she said presently. " There are as many ways of loving as of doing anything else. When you love, Mary, you will do it in a fashion as generous as your heart. There will be no caprice in your affec- tion. You will be like the summer sunshine, always warm and kind. 'TAvould shock you to be suspected or doubted, and you would almost as soon be false as be suspicious yourself. Yet, woe to him who should deceive you — you w^ould be inexorable to falsehood ! " "You paint me too terrible," said Mary, flushing a little. " I am not so unforgiving as you think." "You would be more merciful to mere weakness than I," returned Althea, allowing her eyes to rest for a moment on Noel, and then looking straight at Mary. " You would, I'm certain, forgive a hundred times easier than I should — weakness, I I t k !• t 04 A GREAT TRKASOX. [(II AT. M ! il folly, error — all but falsehood. Your own strength makes you merciful." "You have said a great deal '/i me," said Mary, laughing, but a little embarrassed. " Pray let us know what is i/om' way V' Althea's own cheek Hushed a little ; but she leaned back still more lazily, as she replied, " I am, a« I often tell you, a perverse wretcii. There's something in me that's always getting the better of me. I sometimes wish I was like Fred. Fred's head is not much to boast of. He believes himself to be pro- digiously shrewd, because he hath no luiderstanding of poetry, and always falls asleep in the sermon ; but a child could out- manoeuvre him. But his heart is all made of fine gold — no, 'tis made of much better — 'tis made of human kindness. I am not blind ; I know he is thick-headed, but his stupidity is of the sort which some cleverer folks might envy." She looked full at Noel as she spoke. At this moment, the voice of the young gentleman in ques- tion was heard ca^'lng Noel. " If we are t get two hours' shooting, we must start at once," he said, putting his head in at the door. " But perhaps the ladies will come for a stroll instead — we might go along the river " Noel, however, did not second this proposal. He had an odd dislike of late to the ladies going much beyond the limits of the plantation. " Why, what danger can there be 1 " Fred had asked over and over again. " I've seen no one worse than poor old Bald Eagle, and his worst fault is, that he is a little too fond of bumbo and sangree." And Noel always replied, "No danger in the world, or I would not have them here ; but they are just as well near home." This brief dialogue took place for the twentieth time on the l>resent occasion ; and if Althea had been disposed to rebel, Mary's unhesitating acquiescence made this impossible. But when the gentlemen were gone, she said, somewhat maliciously : *' I protest, Mary, you are too docile! You will spoil Noel." " This "was too serious a matter," replied ]\Iary. " There is, I think, very little danger in this part of the country ; but if there happened to be any hostile Indians near us, the danger would be increased a hundredfold by the presence of women. The men would be hampered — and the Indians would know that, and be all the more ready to attack them." " You are a good girl, Mary, and you act exactly as I said ^t . xvir.] DAYS IN ARCADIA. or. you would," said Altlica. She had turned lier chaii round, so that slio could watch the road. " You described me at such length, 'tis only fair you should say a word or two about yourself," observed JMary. " You turned the subject very neatly, and sang your brother's praises very sisterly just now — I saw your motive !" " So sisterly, that I thought your cousin was but half pleased." "Noel is incapable of such littleness!" exclaimed Mary, coming into the window and standing there, looking towards the river. The two figures had just come in sight. Fred turned, and seeing the ladies in the window, waved his hat, and Noel followed his example. "What is your way of loving, since you know so much about mine]" asked Mary, facing round upon Althca. Althca clasped her hands behind her Lead, and sat looking the picture of provocation. " So far as I yet know," she said, with a defiant yet care- less smile, " 'tis very much the same as my way of hating. I'm convinced that if I ever love, I must begin with hating — none of your mild dislikes, but a good downright detestation. He must offend my pride, my prejudices — everything but my taste. What he must think of me I cannot tell — but I think he must admire and disapprove me. I shall, as I say, begin by hating. Then, by slow and reluctant degrees, I shall be forced to respect him a little — for which I shall take my revenge, by hating him worse than ever. Then 1 shall hate myself; and at last — at last — I siiall — think I ought perhaps to have loved him ! " " He is scarce to be envied, I think," remarked Mary drily. " Lord bless you, child ! long before that time he will have married a beautiful gentle creature who will adore him, and I shall be old and fiided." Althea lookec^ triumphantly young and blooming as she said this. " You look as if you could never be old, and I am sure you will always be beautiful," said Mary. " And I will not believe you are as heartless as you would have me think ; 'tis plain, at least, you have meditated on the subject " " As for that, I never yet saw the man that was worth so much trouble," said Althea. She paused a moment, then added — " 'Twas a shadow that set me thinking thus — a shadow I saw one dark night at sea. Indeed I half believe 'twas a ghost, for 'twas nothing real." 'i .1; .1! ;i( 96 A GREAT TREASON. [chap. M fi' ) i I. y I '■ifi . CHAPTER XVIII. KING ^ flILIP IS COMING i» The Arcadian clays came generally do. That hot them. .The first alarm was ladies were sitting later coffee on the verandah. to a sudden end, as Arcadian days afternoon was the last of blazing given by Polyphemus. The three on in the afternoon, taking their Suddenly, a dark shadow i)assed above them, and there was a rattle of claws and wings as the raven alighted on the eave, and croaked out a quick succes- sion of disjointed sentences, — " Look out ! Don't be a fool ! Make haste ! " winding up by a sentence he rarely used, — " King Philip's coming ! " "Good heavens!" exclaimed Mrs. Branxholm, upsetting half her coffee on her white dress in her agitation. " Did you hear that % He never says it unless he has seen Indians !" " Poor old Bald Eagle, perhaps," said Mary. " Polyphemus, come here, and have a rusk." Polyphemus was much perturbed. He liked rusks, but he had been caught by the glint of a silver tea-spoon, and if ho liked rusks, he adored siher spoons. After a little hesitation, he scuffled down to the low balustrade and accepted the rusk. Suddenly, a distant shot was heard. Polyphemus had begun to remark again that King Philip was coming, when he remembered that his only chance of securing the spoon was by effacing himself, and feigning not to see it — whereupon he applied with redoubled vigour to the rusk. He was rewarded. After stirring her coffee with the object of his desires, Mrs, Branxholm absently laid it on the table instead of in the saucer — rem arising as she did so that they ought to return very soon now, for the shot was not far off. Polyphemus noted the action, though he appeared to be exclusively occupied with his rusk \ but Virginian housekeepers were not strict about trifles, and the spoon was not missed until Polyphemus was siu'prised a month after, lost in ecstatic contemplation of his booty, as it lay, with half-a-dozeu other abstracted articles, in the hollow of a tree. Meanwhile, Mrs. Branxholm had left her coffee untasted, and had gone to the end of the verandah, t»j look out over the m [chap. XVIII.] KIXG rillLIP IS COMIXG!" 97 ladifin tiays the last of The three iking their low passed ings as the lick siicces- be a fool ! sly used, — , upsetting " Did you lians !" 'olyphemus, isks, but he 1, and if he hesitation, the rusk, lemus had g, when he oon was by ereupon he ts rewarded, esires, Mr.s, of in the return very LS noted the ed with his bout trifles, IS surprised 30oty, as it le hollow of e untasted, lit over the valley, and try to pierce the thickest of the forests with her anxious gaze. But the sun had long gone down behind Cedar Gap, and the deep orange glow had faded from ti)e sky, and one after anotiier the stars had come out, like calm eyes unclosing, and the cool of evening had succeeded to the thirsty heat of day, before Noel and Fred and tiie two servants they had take') with tlicm returned. They said they were tired, and they looked pale and weary, and did not talk much at supper. They Lad shot nothing, though they had T)een all the way round by tlie Gap. They did not tell the ladies that they had gone three or four miles lower down the river, to where a larger stream came to swell the waters of the Shenandoah. On this other stream they saw a canoe with an Indian in it ; as it came nearer Noel noticed that the canoe seemed to be drifting with the current, which there rati very swiftly. As it drifted nearer, he recognised Bald Eagle, sitting bolt upright and motionless. The '?anoe fjwept rapidly past within thirty yards of where Noel was stand- ing. Fred was just saying, — "How stiff he sits up!" when Noel seized his arm, and exclaimed in a horrified voice, — "Good God ! he is dead ! He has been scalped !" The canoe had dritted far down the now united streams before either of the spectators recovered from the shock of this ghastly sight. Fortunately, the servants had fallen behind and so did not see it. " Who can have done it ? Poor old fellow ; lie was harm- less enough!" said Fred. And Noel replied, — "Whoever did it, did It by w^ay of I'eprisal, and two can play at that game. But it can hardly have been done near here, or we should have heard of it ; and he has evidently been deacl some days. Well, keep it close or we shall have a panic. I wish my father was not away." All precautions against panic were, however, rendered use- less next day. It was Sunday, and they all went to church as usual. Oglethorpe was less solitary than it looked. A con- siderable population inhabited the villages on the borders of the river, and the town of Winchester was distant but a long day's ride. On this Sunday morniig, the ladies packed themselves into the venerable machine which had so narrowly escaped destruc- tion in the Shadow of Death, the gentlemen mounted their VOL. I. H ■' 1 ,1. ^1 ^^'Vi I I!' < .m « ti ih I iMiU ir I f I ); ; i 1 1 1 ; 4 ' / n if i'i 98 A GREAT TREASON. [chap. horses (Fred had the happiness to bestride a very spirited roan, who would, he trusted, efface tlie sorrel from Miss Fleming's memory), Nebuchadnezzar brought up the rear with a dusky cavalcade under his own immediate leadership, and Uncle Memnon was left in command at Oglethorpe. " Hurry up, you black niggers!" cried Nebuchadnezzar with unneces- sary zeal, as there was plenty of time. " What de ladies say ef you late to chu'ch ?" Being several shades blacker than any of his squadron, Nebuchadnezzar invariably addressed them as " black niggers." The village was but five miles off, and the church stood at the end of the long straggling street. It was a neat stone building, almost hidden in a grove of oaks. Althea had come to love this little cliurch, where she heard the familiar prayers of the English liturgy, said to an accompaniment of rustling boughs and chirping birds. The Oglethorpe pew was close to a window, which in summer was always open. Althea could see the river through an opening in the trees ; and across the river more mountains, where sometimes she could watch the clouds caught like torn fleeces on the branches of the pines. But to-day there was an unwonted commotion in the broad white village street. Groups of people were standing in the middle of the road. A knot of stolid Germans from the next village Avere gathered opposite the tavern ; while, close by, Meshach Pike was leaning on his musket — occasionally turning round to spit. As soon as he saw the Oglethorpe chariot ploughing the village dust he straightened himself, spat twice in exactly the same spot, adjusted his musket to his shoulder, and stepped briskly to meet that vehicle. " It's a-gettin' pretty nigh us, Mr. Branxholm," he said, as he came up. "As the people was a-comin' to church this mornin', they saw Jedidiah Vine lyin' dead across his own threshold, an' a Injun a little way off, dead too." In the history of the Province there were too many such stories of sudden destruction — sometimes befalling whole vil- lages — for any one to hear this news without a thrill of personal fear. Noel hastily glanced round at his own little company. " Ten of us," he said, " and three women. The road back is pretty open, and it will be broad daylight. Meshach, is all your company here under arms 1 " " Wal, Mr. Branxholm, I reckon as they will be by the time parson's done his sarmont," said Meshach slowly. " I s'pose I M [chap. XVIII.] " KING PHILIP IS COMING!" 99 yer'U go to church now you are here? Seems kinder pity like — Avaste, as ye might say. An', then again, 't 'ud kinder give time to my men to come up. An', ef so be as we was to be attacked, the meet'n'-house is jest 's good a place to defend as e'er another. An', for the matter o' that, the Lord delivered Hadley on the Sabbath-day." Having laid this odd medley of considerations before Noel, Meshach fell back on the footpath, adjusted a fresh quid of tobacco in his cheek, and leaning his chin on his musket, resumed his former attitude — eyes and ears alert, like an old watch-dog. On emergencies, Mrs. Branxholm always threw off her indolent carelessness, and vindicated the fame of her spirited ancestress. On the present occasion, as soon as she heard what liad happened, she proposed that the women and children should take refuge on the plantation. As she was speaking, an express rode in from one of the frontier-forts to say that Cornstalk and Red Eagle had taken the war-path. The express, whose clothes were torn and dusty, had been fired at as he rode out of the fort, and had had a narrow escape. He did but stay to snatch a hasty meal and change his worn-out horse for a fresh beast, before he rode on to Winchester. A brief and strange service was held in the little church. The congregation was far too numerous to be contained inside, •ind the churchyard was crowded. Sentinels had been posted at every point of approach, and there was a watcher up in the steeple. What the prayers lacked in length they made up in fervour. The parson — a small spare man, pale and feeble in appearance, but whose voice rose so clear through the still air of the summer morning that every word he said reached the listeners outside the church — gave a short exhortation, and was pronouncing the benediction, when a strange rustling sound was heard, and the scared worshippers, looking up, saw the air dark- ened by a vast flight of birds. "'Tis they darned pidjins," muttered Meshach Pike to Noel, by whose side he stood. " King Philip's pidjins — they alius come when there's mischief afoot." The mysterious ill-omened flock passed over the village, going towards Winchester. Every eye followed them, until the last straggler was lost above the distant forest. For more than a hundred years, these mysterious flights of pigeons had been believed to herald war and calamity, and every face there grew graver and more anxious still as the rushing of their wings died away. !| i !. ! J !!:' r 100 A GREAT TREASON. [chap. ■ f Oglethoi'iie, though not adapted for a military post, pos- sessed some advantages of position wliich had more than once made it a phice of refuge in Indian outbreaks. Without even waiting for the heat to decline, the wagons were got ready, the most valuable and portable of the household goods brought out and stowed in them, and the horses and oxen harnessed. Meshach shouted himself hoarse in bawUng to the drivers to keep as close together as possible — he and his company acting as escort to the convoy. Not a living soul was left in tlie village. The old, the sick, women with babes at their breast, little children, sat among the household stuff, while the men trudged at the side of the wagons, or drove the cattle, which had been hastily collected from the nearest upland pastures. Althea never again read of the flight of the Israelites without thinking of that five miles' march through the sultry July after- noon, with the clatter of horse-hoofs, the uneasy rolling of the clumsy wagon-wheels, the constant flick of the tails of the fly- tormented cattle, the cryhig of some infant that refused to be pacified, and the patient-eyed dogs with their tongues hanging out of tlieir mouths, as they panted along through the clouds of dust raised by so many feet and hoofs and wheels. " You have a high courage. Miss Digby," said Noel to her, when late that night they all found time to take their coffee on the verandah. " You are not used, as we are, to alarms like these ; 'tis the more to your credit that you can seem so little disturbed by them." "Perhaps my hope that they would not attack us was stronger than my fear that they would," replied Althea. " Do not praise me too much, Mr. Branxholm. 'Tis my nature to like to be better than people think me, rather than have them think so unreasonable well of me that I must needs disappoint their expectations." "You mean, then, that to please you I must do you an injustice 1 " cried Noel, provoked at having his compliment thus flung back in his face. " 'T would undoubtedly displease me if you did." "So that I cannot please you any way?" Noel and Miss Digby were standing a little apart from the others, and he said this too low to be overheard — so low, indeed, that she too affected not to have heard, and stepping out into the light of the windows began to talk to Mrs. Branxholm about Boston, which was a frequent subject of conversation • I t\^ XIX.] " WOLF ! WOLF ! " 101 between the two, Miss Digby having been so lately there. Althea had said that she did not like Boston ; but she never allowed her dislike to appear on these occasions, and even endured with exemplary good-humour the many references to Jasper, which his mother never seemed to suspect might be uninterest- ing to her listener. "I've such confidence in Jasper," she would say. " Noel is all that a mother's partiality can desire ; but, ah ! my dear Miss Digby, it is very seldom that one sees an old head on young shoulders." " And it is very odious when one docs see it," thought Miss Digby ; but of course she had far too much good-breeding to say so to Jasper's mother. CHAPTER XIX. " WOLF ! WOLF ! " Oglethorpe now resembled a town to which the inhabitants of the surrounding country have fled for refuge. Huts were hastily built ; the rail-fences were strengthened ; and the house itself became a kind of citadel. But the chief reliance was placed on the strict watch which was kept. Several fresh panics took place. A few days after the eventful Sunday, a hunting- party went out from Oglethorpe — for, considerable as were the resources of the plantation, they did not suffice for the needs of the new-comers. The hunters put up a flock of partridges, and four or five guns went off" simultaneously. Instantly the alarm sjiread in the village near by that there was an attack by Indians. The men cut the harnesses of the plough-horses, leapt on their backs without waiting to saddle, and taking up their wives and children, made for Oglethorpe with all speed. Some forded the river, carrying their children on their backs, rather than lose an hour in going round the bend. The ladies, who had a habit in those days of looking out of the upper windows, saw the fugitives coming, and made sure of presently seeing the enemy in hot pursuit. But by the time the foremost reached the outskirts of the plantation, the hindmost had learned that the alarm was false. Ever since the days of iEsop the cry of "Wolf! wolf! " has produced the same eft'ect of terror at first and recklessness after- wards. Thus it came to pass that the hunting-parties went farther and farther afield, and that Noel, when rebuked by I iMr i;j I 'k ' i : 4:' f:' I 102 A GREAT TREASON. [chap. J r. 1. I ) I 1 I- ,■ ( , I Meshacli Pike for over-rashness, replied that by this time the Shawnees must know the country was up, and must have fallen back. And so one day, Noel and Fred — who borrowed a hunting-suit of his friend for the occasion — with about a score of men, followed the tracks of a herd of deer so far that night overtook them on the side of a mountain overlooking a small lake, out of which ran a little stream. Most of the party thought they recognised it for a tributary of that river which fell into the Shenandoah, near to the spot where Noel had seen the dead body of Bald Eagle drifting in his canoe. This spot was many miles to the east ; and if the hunters were correct in their reckoning, they were a good deal farther from Oglethorpe than was prudent, and in the wrong direction too. To mend the matter, there were some very fresh " Indian signs " on the trees a few hundred yards farther on. A council was held, and it was determined to bivouac for the night, but not to light a fire. A ghastly discovery which was presently made did not tend to raise their spirits. Lieu- tenant Digby, in stripping the moss from a bank to make a bed, came on what he at first took to be some bits of bleached twigs, but which he saw the next instant were bones — bones of a human hand, with the arm attached. His horrified exclama- tion brought several others of the party to the spot, and a very few minutes' search disinterred the wliole skeleton. " His head's on, so he warn't killed in war, whoever he was," said one of the men, contemplating these bleached relics of hu- manity, as they lay pitifully stretched out on their mossy couch — the hands fallen together, as if supplicating burial. In lifting the skeleton, the bones dropped asunder, and the skull rolled to the feet of the Lieutenant, who involuntarily recoiled. The wild solitude, the gathering twilight, the knowledge that these woods were the lair of wolves, and had very lately been the resort of worse than wolves, and nov/ the discovery of these bones — which must have lain in their forgotten and unhonoured grave for half a century — all this was enough to depress the boldest spirits. Lieutenant Digby found himself mechanically repeating the maxims of Meshach Pike ; — " Never be surprised ; keep close together ; keep yoiu* arms handy." " But, good heavens ! " thought the Lieutenant dolefully ; "what's the good of arms, v,dien they can spring out of the very leaves of the trees ? The look of the place is enough to daunt a man. A man must have room to fight in ! " [chap. XIX.] "WOLF! WOLF!" 103 Noel, to whom he commimicatecl his uneasiness, agreed that it was rather ugly ; but seemed to think the wor^c part of it was, that it would be unwise to kindle a fire, and that they had nothing for supper but some salt pork. It was also a serious question whether the wolves might not take advantage of them if they had no fire. With these agreeable thoughts by way of a composing- draught, Fred lay down on his mossy bed, more than half expecting to be food for worms before the morning. He awoke out of an uneasy sleei), to see that it was clear starlight ; and that Noel, wrapped in a cloak, and looking unnaturally tall, was slowly patrolling under the trees. He had dropi)ed ofi" again, when a slight sound roused him, and opening his eyes, he fancied he saw two prick ears and a shac^wy flank appear from under the trees. At that instant, Noel turned in his walk, and the ears vanished. Fred felt for his musket — it was safe by his side. He was considering whether he ought to tell Noel he had seen a wolf, when sleep overcame him ; indeed, in the mornin^ Noel was inclined to think the whole thing a dream. The dawn rose red and misty with exhalations from the lake. One after another, the sleepy hunters sat up and rubbed their eyes. Suddenly, one of them seized his nmsket and fired, before any one could speak, but not before all eyes, instantly tm'ned in the direction of his aim, saw a deer in a partial clear- ing of the mist which clung about the broken ground. The deer leapt high in the air, and fell. "You fool!" said Noel, under his breath. " Here have we lain shivering all night, with the wolves sniffing at om' toes, for you to blaze away at the first deer you see !" " Very sorry, Mr. Branxholm," said the culprit sheepishly — he was a mere youth, younger than Noel — "but we ain't got nuthin' for breakfast — an' 'sides, it's kind o' goin' home with yer tail between yer legs, ter hev ter say as you ain't shot a single hoof, nor clav — an' bin out more 'n twenty-four hours." " Better go back with your tail between your legs, than go back with your scalp hanging on a pole to dry," retorted Noel angrily. " Well, now it's done, it's done," he continued ; "so let's make the best of it, and then make tracks for Ogle- thorpe." The most sheltered place was selected, and a small fire was made, over which some steaks cut from the deer were broiled, Noel all the time saying they oughi; to have left him where he 1 .) ilcfl I:' 'i i) ! "it h n iV > 1 ' t 104 A (ikj:at treason. [» IIAP. liiy. " Hut w'C may us 'svoll fight on full stouuiclis," he said to Fred, when, having concealed the most conspicuous traces of their feast, they were at last on their way homeward. When the lake was left hchind, the forest cIoscmI in on them so completely that they could only ascertain the direction in which they were g( )ing by constantly observing on which side of the tree-trunks the moss grew thickest. The trees did not stand very close together, and the undergrowth was sparse, but they seldom could sec more than thirty or forty yards ahead. They pushed on rapidly, and about noon came to a rocky i)lace, M'here huge boulders overhung the bed of a dry stream. A clump of spmce, pines growing so close together that their boughs could not be distinguished, stood on the very top of this boulder. This was the Devil's Forge, and the party knew that by striking across the spurs of the mountain, they were now but three or four hours from Oglethorpe. They had gone perhaps five miles (so far as it was possible to reckon distance, where the only landmarks were tree-boles and thorn-bushes), when the forest grew thinner, and they were able to see the crest of a mountain at no very great distance. Two of the party were a few yards in advance, but all were moving cautiously, — as they always did when approaching open ground, — when they heard a shot, and one of the two men in advance dropped, while the other ran back, crying, — "Injuns ! Injuns !" There was a large beech-tree close by — the last large tree before a great open space, sloping presently rather abruptly to the river. There, down on the river's bank, was the Indian camp, and between thirty and forty Indians were scattering behind such covert as the place afforded. "Back to back round the tree!" shouted Noel. "Don't waste a shot ! " As he spoke, a ball struck the tree, and Noel replied by bringing down the Indian who had fired it. As for Fred, who had never been under fire before, he gave himself up for lost, and already saw his bloody scalp hanging at the belt of one of these savages — who looked honibly like devils — but he resolved to sell his life dearly. "Mark each one down — for God's sake, don't fire wild ! " shouted Noel, himself filing a second shot and again bringing down his man. The next ten minutes were ever after to Frea tx confasion of flashing matchlocks, diabolical painted fiices, and more dia- XIX,] "WOLF! WOLF!" 105 holical war-wlioops. But after the first surprise he Logan to recover his presence of mind, and — remembering how Meshach Pike had said a General was better than numbers — did his best to obey Noel's orders. There is no doubt tliat fighting is a plea- sure which grows ujwn one. After Viva\ had had the satisi'iic- tion of seeing one sinewy paint-bedaubed redskin tumble head- long, convulsively clutching at the ground as he fell, his sjnrits somewhat revived. But loading w.is nervous work, and Fred would gladly have drawn his sword, and run in and laid about him, instead of fumbling with a cartridge wdien every instant was 80 precious. But, alas ! his sword was at Oglethorpe, ten miles off, and he had notliing but the long hunting-knife which Noel had lent him. Finding tliat several of their number had fallen dead, while the white men were comparatively uninjured, the Indians pre- pared for a rush en masse ; but Noel was ready for them, and bidding only every alternate man fire, he received them with so well-directed a volley, that they retreated without waiting for tlie other half of it. " Will you not charge them ?" asked Fred, hastily reloading. " No, no," said Noel ; " better wait for their attack. They'll come on agam.' All this time the man who had fallen at the first shot lay Avliere he had rolled, a few yards down the slope. Wondering at the length of time which elapsed before the enemy returne r) 120 A GREAT TREASON. [chap. i.lf f^ if 1 U:.. \ \ \ (■ i ' 1 ! i \ 1 A ^ i enrolled themselves as volunteers on the 19th of April, are angry that the rebels are thus allowed to esoape, and say that their presence is the only guarantee against an assault on the town. As Gage does not reply to this representation, they threatop. to lay down their arms and go themselves ; whereupon the Gover- nor throws obstacles in their way — prohibiting the carrying off of merchandise, then of provisions, then of medical stores. Then, even trunks and beds are to be examined by the guard ; and at last, passes are refused altogether. The Governor especially tries to detain the women, in the hope that their presence may prevent his being attacked. Charlestown is nearly deserted ; only a few of its inhabitants go into it now and then to look after their effects, or to do an hour's digging in their gardens, or to mow their grass — a pathetic touch of peace amidst the fiery rumours which say that the tuwn is to be burned, and that, on a given signal, fire-stages are to be sent down the river. Fred Digby is always on the look-out for this signal. The Provincial Congress, sitting at Watertown, on the first Sunday after the battle, vote the raising of an army of thirty thousand men; and, in an address to the people of Great Britain, they say they will be free or die. Very soon, there are twenty thousand men encamped between Roxbury and Cambridge — a line thirty miles long — with General Artemus Ward as a sort of Commander-in-Chief. Ward has seen war in Canada, imder Abercrombie. His army is made up chiefly of substantial farmers and merchants — men who have a great deal to lose besides their lives. Then there is General Thomas, who fought in the war of '56. On occasion of one of the many ffdse alarms of a sally, Thomas repeats the device of a famous European Commander — having but seven hundred men, the General marches them round and round Prospect Hill, which manoeuvre being visible from Boston, produces a whole- some effect on the enemy. Both parties are always trying to secure the stock on the islands — provisions in Boston are likely to run short, although the King's ships command the harbour — and there are constant skirmishes both by land and water. All this while Jasper Fleming is with his uncle and aunt at Salem, from which place Mr. Lawrence Fleming finds he can carry on his business more conveniently than in Boston, under present circumstances, ^^T^K^^^T" XXIV.] A GENTLE.MAN FROM VIRGINIA. 121 CHAPTER XXIV. A GENTLEMAN FROM VIRGINIA. The pillar of a people's hope. In the meantime, Captain Benedict Arnold — liaving received a colonel's commission from the Massachusetts Committee of Safety, authorising him to raise four hundred men and go and take Ticonderoga — sets out on the 3d of May, intending to pick up volunteers as he goes. But at Castleton he comes up witli Ethan Allen and his Green Mountain Boys, bound on the same errand, and holding a Council-of-war. Allen has a commission from the Connecticut Committee — who have condoned the affair of the New Hampshire Grants. After some squabbling, Arnold, having no men with him, puts his own commission back into his pocket and volunteers ; and that day week, very early on a fine summer's morning, Colonel Allen, with Arnold at his side and the Green Mountain Boys behind him, walks into Ticonder- oga, past the gaping sentinels, and summons the garrison to surrender. "In whose name? "asks Captain Delaplace, run- ning out imdressed, with his breeches in his hand, to see what is the matter. " In the name of the Great Jehovah and the Continental Congress ! " says this new Gideon, waving his sword about the Commandant's ears, who, seeing no help for it, yields up the fortress, and retires to finiwh his toilet. The same day, Allen's lieutenanr, Seth Warner, siu-prises Crown Point ; and the next, fifty men come in to join Colonel Arnold, bringing with them a schooner they have taken, and with these he takes St. John's. But the rival Colonels continue to squabble — it is Massachusetts against Connecticut, and is a specimen of that State je?l-^asy on which Hutchinson and Oliver taught the ministry to count. But if the Provinces are jealous of each other, there is a wonderful unanimity in their behaviour, as Lord Duumore finds to his cost. On the night of the 20th of April, he removed the powder from the public magazine at Williamsburg to an armed sloop which lay in the James River. The secret leaked out next morning, and the Mayor and Corporation demanded the restitution of the powder as the property of the town, and also as necessary to the public safety — for there have for some ^m\ 142 A GREAT TREASON, [chap. a witch ! " exclaimed Fred, greatly struck l)y this explanation of the mystery. " I must say, though, I think she carries her resentment to too high a pitch. Bui she'll relent, when she sees how low poor Fleming has been brought." That same evening the patient arrived at Mrs. Maverick's hospitable door in a hackney-coach, supported by Fred, who, if a rough, was not an inefficient nurse. The surgeon, a good- natured man, had come too, and between them they got Jasper upstairs, and into the bedroom which Mrs. Maverick and Althea liad prepared for him — and where he presently fainted away. It was Althea who first called attention to this, and ran to fetch a burnt feather ; and for a day or two, she was, to quote her own expression, as attentive as though she had appro /cd of her patient's conduct. Under the application of the feather, Jasper came round very quickly, and protested that he felt perfectly well, but for some feelings of natural shame at having been overcome for a moment. " The fact is. Miss Digby," he said, with a most provoking coolness, and as though he gloried in reminding her of whence he had come, — "jail-birds are unused to so many stairs as I have just mounted." Althea looked at him in speechless wrath. Did he intend to defy her ? she asked herself. If so, he was soon punished, for his attempt to outbrave pain and weakness proved a signal failure. He was for many days too ill to do anything but sub- mit to be nursed like a child. He was even past making any exasperating observations — Avhich was perhaps the reason why Althea was for a short time so kind and gentle in her manner towards him, that Fred told her she was a good girl after all. CHAPTER XXVIII. TREATS OF THE SLAMMING OF A DOOR. When I was sick you gave me bitter pills. Two Gentlemen of Vehona. After the first few days, however, and as soon as Jasper began to revive a little under his more favourable conditions, Althea's behaviour was not so satisfactory. It is true she took her full share of waiting upon him — indeed, she was always on ill • < I • XXVIII.] TRE,iTS OF THE SLAIklMING OF A DOOR. 143 the watcb. to do him some little service — to bring him some delicacy prepared by Mrs. Maverick's own hands, to fold the MassacJmseits Gazette and the Boston Post Boy — or to draw down the jalousies, if the sun shone in his eyes. She had ample opportunities of rendering him small kindnesses of this description, as he was for a long time extremely feeble, and it was weeks before he was allowed to use his right arm. But Althea contrived to do all these charitable offices in a manner which left a sting behind. " In performing tluse acts of Christian duty, I never forget that your sufferings are but the just punishment of your enormous offences." This was what Althea's manner said — though her only overt reproaches were conveyed by means of one of the ministerial organs already mentioned, which she never failed to lay beside Jasper's chair, folded with the most virulent article outside, so that it must needs catch his eye. As Jasper slowly amended, Althea's temper became still more uncertain ; and although she never allowed the conversa- tion to turn on exciting subjects, she could not always refrain fi'om a side hit — so skilfully given as to admit of no reply. She would calmly allude to what might be expected when the reinforcements arrived from England — and be in the middle of a remark about the visits she hoped then to pay in the South, before Jasper could make up his mind whether to notice her words or not. He thought he saw^, under all her constrained kindness, a deep-rooted personal aversion t himself, and a fear lest her brother's good-natured geniality should ever make him forget that she saw in him only a traitor and rebel, who had been taken in out of compassion as he lay dying at her door. One day, not long after he w\is aljle to crawl into the drawing-room and sit in Mrs. Maverick's own particular chair, Althea's " throw-a-poor-dog-a-bone " manner — which yet was always kept just within the limit of good-breeding — goaded him out of his resolve to appear unconscious of her unkind- ness. The surgeon had pronounced him convalescent — his wounds were healing, and his broken bones were beginning to unite. All these circumstances are, as every one knows, enough to try the temper of an angel, and Jasper was very irritable. When, therefore, Althea brought him a cup of particularly exquisite lemonade, made after a secret recipe known only to Mrs. Maverick, together with the latest issue of the Post Boy, on which appeared the words, *' The Psalm-singer Un- m \ 4 •! 1 , i 1 In i »f P- ll !| 144 A GREAT TREASON. [chap. MASKED," Jasjier pushed the tray into the middle of the table — so abruptly that some of the lemonade was spilled into the saucer. " If I am sick enough to lie here and drink lemonade, Miss Digby," he said — his thin worn fiice flushing and his hand trembling so violently that, in the attempt to pour back the spilled lemonade, he drenched the Post Boy — " I am too sick to swallow the rhodomontade of hired scribblers. I shall esteem it a kindness if you will spare me until, if ever again, I am able to defend the cause I am ready to die for, but am now past even speaking for ! " Jasper became so ghastly pale as he said this, that Althea was frightened. But she was angry too — angry with him for having brought himself to this pass — and for other reasons — some of them too complicated to be put even into thought. " You doubtless think me a miserable effeminate wretch. Miss Digby," he went on, a little colour presently returning to his face. " But the question is too burning, too personal, to be any less than a question of life and death to me. It is embittered by a thousand personal griefs — friends estranged, friends slain ; judge if a sick man dare think much of such things ! I know," he continued more calmly, and not without a ring of proud protest in his voice, which was steady enough now, — " I know that I owe all to your compassion, and nothing to your regard. You need not fear that I can ever forget it, or imagine you would not have shown as much to any other dying wretch. I have seen pity striving in you with the fear of being misunderstood, and my own pride has made yours more easy to bear." " I am sorry to have offended you," said Althea — her tone was sufficiently cold and haughty, but her face had crimsoned, though the knowledge that she had succeeded in offending him brought with it a considerable amoimt of satisfaction. " I supposed you would be anxious to learn how your friends fared " — she could not resist laying a scornful emphasis on the VfOT^ friends — "and I thought this the least offensive method of apprising you of it." " You wilfully misunderstand me ! " cried Jasper, " and as wilfully, I think, refuse to see how great are the wrongs which you call it rebellion to resent." " I see, Mr. Fleming," said Althea in a very hard tone, " that you and your friends are bringing about a war between two peoiiles who speak the same language. Any day — this very , I XXVIII.] TREATS OF THE SLAMMING OF A DOOR. 145 moment, perhaps, while I say the words " — here all the hard- ness went out of her voice, and she spoke with deep suppressed feeling — " my own brother's blood may be shed — by a man who is of the same nation as himself, yet has been taught to hate him as a deadlier foe than a Frenchman ! " " 'Tis you that hate us. Miss Digby ; we have been patient, but the patient ass revolts at last. But what is the use of talking 1 " he said -wearily. " Every word you say is a fresh sign that the quarrel is gone too far for words to be of any avail — the hatred which has been growing up between us so long can never now be uprooted but in fair tight. Perhaps we may so learn to respect one another — at present we can but hate and despise one another." " You who talk so much of your country, Mr. Fleming," said Althea, looking down, on him from under her long dark eyelashes, and finding a strange pleasure in being inexorable, " I wonder you should wish me not to love mine i " " And hate yom* country's enemy," he said sadly. " 'Tis the almost necessary consequence at such a pass as this. A brother offended is harder to be won than a fenced city. If I was a Frenchman, there's a native generosity in an English bosom, which would have made you forget your nation's quarrel with mine. And yet my obligation to you is so infinite, that 'tis scarce generous in you to show so plahily the aversion you feel." " Indeed, Mr. Fleming, I was not aware that I had been wanting in good manners," returned Althea coldly. But she was on the point of relenting when he spoiled all by saying peevishly, — " Pray oblige me by taking these scm'rilous papers away ! " " I am extremely sorry you don't like the Post Boy," she said with the most provoking calmness. "And very sorry too that I can't get you a copy of the Spt/ instead." So saying she took up the Fost Boy, and walked out of the room with considerable dignity — and Jasper would have had the worst of this encounter but for a gust of wind which happened at the instant of her going out to so snatch the door from her hand (somewhat encumbered by the Fost Boy), that she appeared to have slammed it behind her. This cruelly jarred poor Jasper's broken bones, but was indirectly the cause of Althea's mending her manners ; and upon the whole he had cause to be glad that it had happened. VOL. I. L ii IJ ;.-4 146 A GREAT TREASON. [chap. I Mrs. Maverick was coming downstairs just as the door banged, and Althea's bearing as she swept by her cousin plainly revealed that something was amiss. " The girl has been baiting that poor young man again, I'll be bound ! " she thought, as she went in to the patient. '* I declare she is as proud as Lucifer ! " Mrs. Maverick made a mental memorandum to give her spirited young relative a piece of her mind ; and this she took an opportunity of doing on the following day, when Jasper, who was not so well, kept his room until after dinner. It happened that Mr. Harrison Gray had given them a call, and in asking after '* the prisoner," had observed that he was a lucky rascal, to get a beautiful young woman to make his gruel for him, when, if he had his deserts, he ought to be hung in chains on Charlestown Neck alongside of Mark, the highway- man — to which Althea had returned that he had been pretty severely punished, and that as his brother had rendered hers a great service, she hoped there was no harm in showing him a little common humanity. " Of course," she added in a voice which she believed she had succeeded in making as hard as her heart, "we cannot look on him as an ordinary pri'^oner of war ; but we could scarce have avoided doing what we have done, under the circumstances — 'tis not done for his own sake " Even Mrs. Maverick thought this was carrying loyalty too far — especially when combined with the banging of the patient's door — for Althea had been much too proud to say that this was an accident. So as soon as Mr. Gray had taken his leave (with a message for Mr. Fleming that he hoped to see him shortly restored to health and a sense of his duty), she began upon her cousin. "My dear Althea," said the old lady, putting on her spectacles, and looking at Althea over them, "I think you cannot be aware of the great harshness you show, whenever Mr. Fleming is mentioned. In his present suffering condition, I'm really surprised at you. Yoiu" brother Fred is much displeased with your manner to Mr. Fleming, and has several times begged me to speak to you about it. He is in a very poor way, and if he should not get over it, you would not forgive yourself. 'Tis positively inhumane." Mrs. Maverick netted away vigorously as she said this. A glance at Altliea showed her that that young lady was looking out of window, and apparently had not heard her. ^ XXVIII.] TREATS OF THE SLAMMIXG OF A DOOR. 147 .1 (( her you Mr. I'm eased gged md if 'Tis ly as /-oung heard He is of course a very foolish and wrong-headed young man," she observed after a minute or two of silence. "But he is the brother of a person to whom you are under an nndoubted obligation, and who is so devoted to liim that he will think more of a kindness shown his brother than if it was done to himself. 'Tis true that Mr. Branxholm is unfortunately mixed up with the rebels — but as I've repeatedly told you, the weight of punishment will fall on the New England States — as you see it has done already. Virginia is a loyal Province at heart, and will be let off easy. All the best blood of the Colonies is in Virginia," continued the old lady, unoonsciously bridling. " My dear mother always felt that — although my father's connections was among the oldest families of Massachusetts. I've very little doubt that, on his submis- sion, Mr. Noel would come off with a fine." Mrs. Maverick paused again — to allow time for these words to produce their effect. Althea still stood by the window. Mrs. Maverick thought she perceived a slight droop of the head, and was encoiu-aged to renew the attack more directly. "I do really wish, my dear, you would be a little more womanly in your behaviour to poor Mr. Fleming," she said — wishing that Althea would speak, or at least look round. " I think he feels it. I have observed ■ j eyes following you abo'it the room in a very affecting manner — I've been quite sorry for the poor yoimg man. I'm sure I disapproved cf him as much you can do, when he was fomenting rebellion ; but 'tis the boast of a true-born Briton to be generous to the vanquished. / feel no difficulty in being civil to him, and I don't suppose you pretend to be more loyal than me." As Mrs. Maverick said this, she looked every inch Governor Hutchinson's cousin. ** I'm sure," she continued, " when I see him looking so ill, and yet so obstinate and wrong-headed, I feel as vexed with him as if he was my own son." Still Althea made no sign. There was a long pause, during which nothing was heard but the snapping of the netting-pin, as Mr . Maverick deftly wove her meshes. At last, Althea went to the dooi, and there — with her hand on the lock, and her back tm'ned to hor cousin — she said in a very low voice; " I am sorry you and Fred think I have been inhumane — I did not intend it." " Bless my heart ! " thought the old lady, laying down her netting, and staring at the door — which Althea had closed behind her as gently as though she had feared to awaken her !t!il 1' ' il I I SI (I '0 148 A fJREAT TREASOX. [chap. ^ il ■# n venerable relative. " Bless my heart ! I believe the ^irl was cry- ing ! That hint about Noel told well — I thought as it would ! " Mrs. Maverick resumed her netting with a complacent smile playing about her handsome mouth, and the glow of an approving conscience in her bosom. Neither the smile nor the glow had died away, when the door again opened, and Jasper came in — looking so pale and ill that Mrs. Maverick wondered indignantly how Althea could be so unfeeling; and rising instantly, she insisted on installing him in her own armchair. " Nay, I consider it yours while you are an invalid, Mr. Flem- ing," she said briskly, fairly forcing Jasper into it, who was still too weak to resist so much physical energy. " There — now you will be comfortable," said the good lady, taking another seat ; " and I shall just be as well here. If you are looking for that naughty girl," she continued, observing that Jasper's eyes sought the chair near the window where Althea usually sat, " I don't think you'll see her for a while. She has gone to her room — I h )pe, penitent. I have been scolding her roundly for her incivility to you. In your present state I think it positively cruel, and so I've told her, and I think she felt it. Her brother is quite provoked at her. She is a warm-hearted girl at bottom, though I can hardly expect you to believe it. But if you could see her with your brother, you would not know her for the same creatm'e. However, I've told her that high principles are consistent with feminine gentleness, and I hope she'll remember it." During this speech, Jasper changed colour so often that Mrs. Maverick began to fear that perhaps her words to Althea were truer than she herself had believed, and that Jasper might indeed not get over it. " The slighest emotion throws him into a perfect fever," she thought ; " and then that hard-hearted girl goes an^^ bangs the door ! I could box her ears ! " Mr, Maverick would have been astounded to hear that she had herself just hurt Jasper much more than Althea had done when she slammed that door — so little can we sometimes judge how our words or deeds will affect another. And when Jasper did speak, his manner was so c{dm, and his words were so reasonable, that Mrs. Maverick's conscience continued to approve her. " If you allude to yesterday," he said, with — as Mrs. Maverick noticed — a very weary smile, " I happened to be looking at the door at the moment, and I saw that it escaped from MissDigby's hand; I am convinced 'twas a pure accident." i . I xxvui.] TREATS OF THE SLAMMIXG OF A DOOR. 149 (( i I hope it was," said Mrs. Maverick. *' At any rate, i\Ir. Fleming, 'tis very good-natured of you to say so, and I trust Althea is ashamed of herself." Althea probably was, for she sent word at tea-time that she had a headache, and would not come do^vn. The next day, she and Mr. Fleming chanced to be alone for some time after dinner. It was a very hot day, and there was no breeze astir to slam the doors. Fragrant airs floated in from the country, and mingling with the dusty air of the town, revived the pent-up townspeople. "Oh, how I wish we could get out into a country lane!" exclaimed Althea, as she breathed such a whitf of summer- sweetness. Then, having broken the silence which had been hanging over them both, she went on hastily, — " Mr. Fleming, I should like to tell you that I did not intend to bang that door yesterday." " I knew you did not," rci)lied Jasper quietly. " It was an accident — I saw it." " I have been — I don't know what I have been — but I ask your pardon," continued Althea in an unsteady voice, and with do^Micast eyes. " I am prepared to pardon you for anything," said Jasper, Avith a mournful smile, which Althea did not see — her eyes being fixed on the buckle on his shoe. " But I should like to know what you ask it for." " For — for being — for behaving " "For remembering I am a rebel, Miss Digby*? Nay, I never wished you to forget it." So nicely are feelings balanced in the human breast, that these words irritated Althea singularly. " Nor could I forget it," she said, looking up, with a relapse into haughtiness ; "but I ought to have remembered that an enemy ceases to be an enemy, when he is vanquished." It was a good thing that Althea had resumed her study of Jasper's shoe-buckle, for he looked decidedly amused at this .-'peech. " 'Tis true — / was vanquished," he said. " Then is it peace between us V he asked, with so much sweetness in look and voice, that Althea's i^ride once more smoothed its ruffled l)lumes. She held out her hand, and Jasper took it in his for the space of a moment ; but he did not kiss it, as she thought he was going to do. She would have been almost as angry * ' 1-' "J! I 5 150 A GREAT TRKASON. [( ii.vr. with him for doing so, as she was piqiiod that he did not, ** I owe my life to your brotlier," he said, '* und I sliall never forgot that." He sat so still after Althca had left him, that Mrs. Maveriek, who peeped in at the open door, thought he was asleep ; but he was only thinking. "It was better not," he said to himself, as the sleepy after- noon seemed to grow hotter and more breathless. " The path is dilHcult enough already." CHAPTER XXIX. THE WAY TO GLORY. The Way to Glory leads over rapid rivers and headlong torrents, over lakes, bogs, and swamps, by craggy ravines, and up stony mountains, where the road is always gi-owiug rougher and steejjer, and the air more piercing keen. When the wilderness of the forest is left behind, there begins another wilder waste of morass, and rock, and brushwood — scantier and scantier, as the way — it has long ceased to be a road, or even a path — toils up and up — until the rain turns to snow, and the wind to ice. This is the way to glory — and all the while we are not quite sure of our way. What if we find we have missed it — crossed at the wrong carrying-place, or gone astray in the mountains of Maine — when we trust at last to see the waters of the great Chaudiferc Pond ? The seekers after glory have eaten salt pork till their souls loathe it ; and now there is but half a square inch of that for each man's dinner, to be swallowed raw, with half a biscuit for supper. " We must be near the top now," they say to one another. They press on for dear life through the frightful loneliness. For more than ten days, they have seen no trace of human habitation or presence, except a single deserted wigwam which they passed three days ago. Noel Branxholm finds his spirits almost as much oppressed by the frightful savageness of the landscape as by the scanty food, the biting cold, and the toils of the way. This little party of eleven in all has been sent on by Colonel Arnold, to explore and mark the best route — Arnold's only knowledge of which is derived from the journal of an English officer of engineers — who came this way fifteen years ago — some Il XXIX.] THE WAY TO GT.ORV. 151 he information from Indians, and a very rude map. The expedi- tion marelies in three divisions, with a day l)etween eaeli, to prevent confusion. First, comes Morgan of Virginia, with his three companies of riflemen, and among these are Meshaeh Pike and Noel Branxhohn. Then Greene of lihodc Ishnid, with three companies of infantiy ; then Meigs of Massachusetts, with foiu- ; and, lastly, Enos of Connecticut, witli three. Noel is by this time not a little proud of his own discern- ment, in enlisting under Colonel Benedict Arnold. If never- ceasing vigilance, tar-reaching forethought, and absolutely dauntless valour, can ensure success, this expedition is certainly on the way to glory. At each halting-place, Arnold sees each several division re-embark, and when the last has started, passes them all in a fast birch canoe, paddled by Indians, and waits for them at the next halt. But the way is longer and more difficult than he had bargained for, and the weather is breaking ; so he sends on a little band of volunteers to find the best way. Even this little band is now reduced to four, and a guide or two. At the first pond, where the Great Carrying-place begins, tlie weakest were left behind, with half the provisions, while the other half pushed on to the Dead River. By day they scramble through the wilderness, and by night they sleep on branches of fir and hemlock. So rare is foot of man, red or white, in this untrodden wild, that one of their muskets, lost or forgotten, will lie here undiscovered for seventy -five years. Two days of hard travelling on half an inch of raw pork brings the van of the exjiloring party to a great pine, forty feet high, without a branch. " From here we should see the Chaudi^re's head- waters," says Archibald Steele, the young leader of the party. "Who will climb up and look 1 " They all stand round in breathless suspense, while Eobert Cunningham swarms up. They scarcely dare call to him to know what he can see. The next five minutes will decide whether they have lost their way. But no — from the tree-top he sees the river winding away to the north, till it spreads into the great lake fifteen miles off. And now, having found the way to glory, back with all speed ! The storm breaks on them — they are drenched with sleet — the trees crack and tumble like that spmce-pine which 1 1 i I ^il mmmm^ 152 A GREAT TREASON. [c'lIAl', t' fell in the Shadow of Deatli. Noel, looking bark on this, won- ders how he could have thought it so terrible. When they have picked up the weaker half of their party, and are fairly on the road back to tlie main body, it is a race between them and hunger. On the second day, they shoot a diver. They boil him at night ; every one throws his own bit of pork (marked with a skewer that he may know it again) into tlie pot, and that night they sup on the broth. Next morning, after a short uneasy sleep on the spongy ground, each man takes his own inch of pork and swallows it. Then the diver is divided, hunter's fashion. "Whose shall this be?" cries the carver, holding up the head ; and Noel, his back turned to the pot, says, " Mine." So all is done fairly. Another weary day and night go by, while the starving ex- plorers leave many a mile behind ; and then, next day, they run one of their canoes against a sunken tree, and tcnr the frail skiff from stem to stern. The rent was done in one ..lisastrous moment, but many precious hours are spent on the mending. They find some birches, and strip off the bark ; they dig up cedar- roots for thread, and collect pitch from the pines. At last the rent IS made whole, and, WTary and hungry, they set off once more. As the sun went down on this day, Noel, whose canoe was a little behind, and who was light-headed with hunger and fatigue, was tormented by strange fancies. He thought he saw figures fiitting before and behind him, on the rocky banks of the river. He fancied he heard Polyphemus croak, — " King Philip's coming ; " but it was only the inarticulate cry of some bird that had never known man. Once, when the rays of the sinking sun fell red and lov", darting arrows of light among the tree- trunks, he could have sworn he saw Mary Fleming, walking a little in advance of him under the forest trees. From time to time, she turned her head — as if to look at him — and stretching out her arm, pointed in the direction in which he was going. It seemed to him that the apparition smiled. "Am I asleep? or am I going mad?" thought Noel, rub- bing his eyes — which indeed were heavy with want of rest. " It won't do to wreck another canoe," he thought, rousing himself. The wraith of Mary had vanished; but presently he saw it again — waving, pointing, and smiling as before. "Is she come to warn me of my death?" he thought, with a contraction of his heart. "Am I to die here in the wilder- ness, where no one will ever know my grave ? " • ' XXIX.] THE WAY TO GLORY 158 At that moment, he heard a shari) crack of a rifle on in front, followed instantly by a shout. The vision had vanished ; hut it could scarcely have been a messenger of ill, for when Noel, rowing hard, had come up with the others, he found them leaping ashore round a moose-deer, which lay dead on the bank. It was nearly a week before they regained the main body. The various divisions of it, push on as fast as they would, found it terrible work. At Norridgewack Falls they left all trace of man behind — their last sight of man's handiwork being the ruined altar and chapel where good Father Ralle had om^e laboured for six -and -twenty years, and around whose bloody grave the wilderness had now grown rank for fifty. The cross ^^•llich marked it was the last Christian emblem they saw for many and many a weary day. Then came swamp, bog, pieci- pice, mountain, stream, and rapid. Sometimes they row, some- times they push their canoes along with poles ; often they jump af^hore and pull with ropes. At night, their lodging is ivii the cold ground — ; d often in the morning they find that Dame Nature has flung a second blanket on that hard bed, all woven of the whitest new-fallen snow. And so, over one carrying-place after another, they come at last to a boggy swamp, grown over with ghastly white moss and wizened bushes, where they sink knee-deep in the mud as they carry the canoes across, until they launch them on the swift-running waters of the Dead River. Summer travellers admire the grandeur of desolation and solitude; but these Avinter-beset soldiers, toiling their painful w^ay up the steeps which lead to glory, call the ragged woods and rugged moun- tains "hideous." ]\lemory, like a magic-lantern, sheds its light here and there on the darkness of the past. When Noel Branxholm was an old man he loved to tell his grandchildren of certain incidents, which still stood out as clear as ever through the mist of years. He was never tired of telling, nor they of listening, how, one evening, they came to a river in flood, and for a moment could see no dry ground — until they made out, through the gathering gloom, a knoll rising out of the submerged forest — how they gained this, and then had to wade to a tree, and cut it down for fuel ; and how, liaving at last coaxed ihc damp wood into a blaze, they gathered around the fire. Perhaps this night stood out so clear in Noel's memory, because Colonel Arnold hims-'lf was with their company, and (though Noel seldom 'm • M M ?f i ii : i 154 A GREAT TREASON. [OHAP, mentioned this when he told the story) had shared his cake of baked flour, which was all the supper that was forthcoming — no salmon-trout having been caught since the great storm a few days back. Colonel Arnold had talked with Noel as familiarly as ever, and they had wondered together how young Aaron Burr was fiiring, who had just been sent off disguised as a Catholic priest with a verbal message to General Montgomery. " This is a famous opportunity — if only any of us live through it," Arnold said to Noel that niglit — and, as the fire- light flickered on his dark face, Noel saw an exulting smile play over it — " but the way is worse and longer than I thought, or than my map makes it out." Provisions after this ran very short indeed, and the road grew worse and worse, till at a " ripply place " seven batteaux were lost, and the men barely escaped with their lives. Noel's company coming thither, found a notice to this effect nailed to a tree, and looked at each other in dumb dismay. They have eaten the barber's powder -bag by this time. They stumble on, not quite sure of the way, till they come upon a batteau which Arnold, who has dashed forward as usual, has left for them. And so to a sandy beach where some of the men, seeing roots growing in the sand, dart out of rank, and tear them up like wild beasts. " Why did they not all die, grandfather 1 " ask the children, when they hear these gruesome stories. " Well, my dears, I used often to wonder why we did not," answers the old gentleman. "I really think we was kept alive by laughing at Mrs. Greer, Sergeant Greer's wife, who was such a figure of fun as never was seen, wading with her skirts tucked up. That woman had a genius for finding the shallowest places. The good lady was of a formidable size, but she trudged valiantly after her Sergeant — as virtuous as she was ample. There was not one of us durst let her see us grin — but grin we did. Then there was poor Shafer, the dnunmer- boy, who was the butt of us all. Once, I fished him out of the water, when he had tumbled, drum and all, off" a log by which we were crossing — and didn't hurt the drum neither." But the story which most thrilled the marrow of the chil- dren's bones, was the one which told how their grandfather, as he sat one evening by the fire, thinking of Old Virginia, and wishing he could just once hear Polyphemus say, — " I see you ! " smelt a peculiar and not altogether uuciavoury smell coming, as • II XXIX.] THE WAY lo GLORY. 155 of 1 it seemed, from a i ot boiling over auotiier fire a little way off. Sergeant Greer presently brought him a tin cup, with some greenish broth in it. The sergeant said it was bear — his honest countenance so plainly giving uis words the lie that Noel insisted on knowing more, and Greer thereupon confessed that it was dog — Captain Dearborn's beautiful great dog, that every one was so fond of. " But you wouldn't have it, would you, grandfather ? " the children always asked at this point of the story; and their grand- father answered, as was expected of him, " No, my dears ; my <,^orge rose at it somehow, and I gave the cup back to Greer, as (|uick as I could. It looked like hell-broth." After this, some of them tried to sup off their moccasins and breeches ; but alas ! no amount of stewing availed here. Even the Sergeant could make nothing — though he gave them a fair trial — of a pair of old moose-hide small-clothes. Yet no one grumbled, for every one knew that Arnold was doing his best. He had pushed on now, with a small party of the strongest, for Sartigan, the nearest French settlement. He reached it late one night, and started with supplies next morning at sunrise. They came but just in time — and when the starving companies saw the cattle coming up the river, they wept for joy. Not till now did Noel's young vigour give in — and still he struggled on by the friendly help of his companions, until, as they approached the St. Lawrence, he felt his strength fail him alto- gether, and sat down on a log, wondering if — as had happened to so many others who had died a few minutes after they gave in and sat down — this were to be the end of his march. As he sat there, conscious, but almost indifferent as to what should become of him. Colonel Arnold, riding in the rear, saw him, and dismounting, ran up to a settler's house close by. Tlie man will take care of you — he is an honest fellow," said the Colonel, nnining out again in less than five minutes, followed more slow^ly by a farmer-looking man in a blanket-coat and a high cap, and coming to where Noel was sitting. " Get well as soon as you can, and come on." Tlien he put a couple of silver dollars into Noel's pocket — Noel was almost past moving a finger, though he managed to sit up — and saying, — "In case of necessity," squeezed his hand kindly, and in another moment was galloping after his men. The terror of Arnold's approach had already spread as fiir as Qiiebec itself, where, by the mistake of tole for toiley it was ill ii{ -It ■> r , tij !l:! n i.i I j i I :5i 'i r ■ I 156 A GREAT TREASON. [chap, reported that the men of Boston had come down over the momitains, clad in iron shirts. And now, as soon as General ]\Iontgomery and his force can join him from Montreal, Benedict Arnold means to try and climb by the same way that, sixteen years ago, James Wolfe went up to death and glory. CHAPTER XXX. THE BLOCKADE OF BOSTON. And what have you got now with all your designing, But a town without victuals to sit down and dine in ? The Irishman's Epistle. Jasper's recovery was slow — slower than his medical attend- ants could well account for. They, however, finally discovered the cause to be the patient's anxiety about his friends and the state of affairs in general. Tiiat he was depressed and gloomy was an undoubted fact. Even (Japtain Digby's conversation could not always cheer him. The Captain kept his friend (as he had really by this time come to consider Jasper) informed of the progress of events ; and Jasper, as he grew stronger, and able to walk out, had the opportunity of seeing for himself the entrenchments of Mr. Washington's army beyond Charlestown Neck, and sometimes had heard a distant shout, as some piece of artillery (notably the " Old Sow," brought from Ticonderoga) was placed in position. He also knew by a letter, which found its way to him in a some- what mysterious manner, that his brother had started on his perilous cx]}cdition. Since then, the only events which had broken the monotony of the siege, were one or two other letters of remonstrance, sent by General Washington on the subject of the treatment of prisoners. Gage had been deaf to the appeal of his old comrade ; but Gage is no longer Governor of Massachusetts. His victory at Bunker's Hill had not been considered satisfactory. He lost too many men over it. Sir AVilliam Howe reigns in his stead — the last British Governor who shall ever mount the steps of the Province House of Boston. One other excitement there has been of a mild sort — Dr. Church is, it is said, clapped up by his friends the rebels, on a xxx.] THE BLOCKADE OF BOSTON. 157 charge of treasonable correspondence. Besides this, there is really nothing, except the raids of Captain Wall of the /iVsy, and a cock-and-bull story about the gliost of Dr. Sewall. It seems that a good old woman, passing by the South Meeting (which has been desecrated by Burgoyne's dragoons, and Deacon Hubbard's fine carved pew carried off and made a pigstye of), uplifted her shrill old voice in lamentation, declaring that the sight was enough to make Dr. Sewall's ghost rise and protest — and so it did, one night shortly after, so frightening the Scotch pcntinel, that his shrieks awoke the guard at the Province House over the way. All through the summer the town was sickly. As winter ap- proaches, one or two snows arrive from England, with pork and claret and other stores ; but the troops feel that they are being left to get themselves out of a bad scrape as best they can. General Washington is too strong to be forced ; the chief hope lies in the freezing over of the harbour, which may now be looked for shortly. Anticipating fighting his way out over the ice, Howe does his best to keep up the discipline of his troops, who have grown slovenly. They even come on duty in dirty shirts, leggings hanging about their knees, their hair badly powdered, and smoke when imder arms. After the New Year comes in (heralded with great rejoicings in the enemy's camp, which are as vinegar upon nitre to the beleaguered regiments), indignation at receiving no succour rises very high. Houses are being pulled now for firewood ; the Old North went long ago — no more traitorous lanterns will be hung out from its steeple. The garrison's only diversions are a few skirmishes, and the theatricals in Fanueil Hall, and the Concert Hall — where the ragged Provincials are made exquisite fun of by their almost as ragged foes. There is to be a capital farce called the " Blockade of B$§ton " enacted shortly. Meanwhile, if the blockaded forces did but know it, the Provincial army has no powder, and half the regiments dis- banded on New Year's Day — their term being expired. But the new Union flag flies bravely in the wind, with its thirteen stripes and the crosses of St. Andrew and St. George, and JasjDcr's ears are gladdened by hearing the distant shouts wiiich salute its unfurling. Through the dreary monotony of these months, Althea had almost laid aside her rancour, and had even brought herself to talk calmly with Jasper of the great question, which had become the central fact in all their lives. If she ever felt disposed 1 ii! 1 -I m !■•' I i i ij .-.I '' li 'I, III 168 A GREAT TREASON. [CHAI'. to relapse into her old manner, she seldom did so, after a rumom- reached Boston that the expedition to Quebec had failed, and that those who had not fallen in the assault were now prisoners of war. One day, when the continued mild weather had almost de- stroyed the garrison's hopes of escaping except by ship, Miss Digby returned from a visit in the town, with the news that Sir William Howe had resolved to evacuate Boston, unless he was relieved by a certain day. " What shall you do ? " asked JasjDer — to whom this was no news. There were still a good many rebels left in Boston, and Jasper could, had he chosen, have added the information that General Washington was contemplating giving a gentle filip to Sir William, if he were much longer in making up his mind to a move. " I shall do as Cousin Maverick does," replied Althea. " Many of the loyal townsmen, I am told, intend to take refuge on board the King's ships. Of course I shall not return to Eng- land while Fred is in the Colonies. I've no natural protector left there — nor any relation with whom I should care to live." " Would anything induce you to return to Oglethorpe 1 " asked Jasper, after a pause, during which he had doubted whether he should ask it. " Nothing," answered Althea shortly. Then, as if in apo- logy, she added not ungently, — " Much as we may lament it, we shall be enemies, as soon as the King's troops leave Boston." There was silence between them for many minutes — a pain- ful silence, which neither knew how to break — and then Althea said impetuously, — " Mr. Fleming, have you considered all the consequences which may ensue, supposing even that you suc- ceed ? Are you so sm'e of yoiu* ground 1 " " I think," he said, " that I, and all but the most thought- less —and there are always all sorts of men mixed up in great affairs — have considered the consequences, so far as is lawful." "So far as is lawful?" asked Althea, looking at him in grave surprise ; " you surely can scarce mean that we should act without reflecting on the consequences of our actions ? " " This is a perplexing world, Miss Digby," said Jasper — Althea thought he said it very sadly. "I believe 'twas in- tended to be so, in God's wisdom, as a means to our probation. Where were that, if a man could see all the road he is going, mapped forth plainly at starting ? " ot '. IT^ • ' XXX.] THE BLOCKADE OF BOSTON. 159 " Yet surely," she said, " when we foresee ill consequences, we should pause ? " "Principles, not consequences, must guide us," returned Jasper. " If we regarded remote consequences, 'twould palsy all action — and we may well be mistaken in our foreseeing, but hardly in our seeing. What possible act of any man's life is there, that might not peradventure turn to harm ? No ! " he cried, his eyes suddenly kindling ; "let us do our part in this our day, and leave the rest to God ! 'Tis the manifest duty of the people of these Provinces to preserve the liberties handed down to us by our forefathers. Perhaps it had been better for us that those liberties had never been threatened — with that we've no concern — 'tis a barren speculation. They are threatened, and 'tis our duty to defend them, as I for one will do, with every drop of blood in my body ! " Althea did not speak for many minutes, and when she did, her voice trembled. " And what of those who see it their duty to oppose you ? " she asked. " To their own Master they stand or fall," he re])lied. " It seems to me, that when we give an account of our deeds, 'twill ! matter more how and in what spirit we did them, than what we j did. But however this may be, my own duty is all that concerns me, and that I must do — and by God's help I will ! " Althea rose slowly from her chair, and went out of the room, only saying sadly ; " I cannot contend with you, but my duty must be for ever opposed to yours." It was on the evening of this day, that the Farce of the " Blockade of Boston " was given in the Concert Hall. Althea (who perhaps thought she had been a little too easy on Mr. Fleming in the afternoon) made up for it in the evening, by ask- ing him, as a particular favour, to be good enough to escort her cousin and herself to this precious performance. But she was deservedly punished. Everybody was there, including Gover- nor Howe ; but the play had not gone far before Althea was forced to confess to herself, that she wished she had not brought Mr. Fleming to see British officers laughing at an enemy they could scarcely be said to have yet beaten. She was mortified when Mrs. Maverick laughed at the antics of a fellow got up to travesty Sam Adams, with wild gray hair, a wig all awry, and holes in his stockings. Jasper saw her annoyance with inward satisfaction, but he looked ou in grim silence until there was a pause in the piece. I ! 1 t.. I v^ I ^ m i : 160 A GREAT TREASON. [CHAI'. " I do not think, Miss Digby, that you despise this fooling much leas than I do," he observed. For a moment, her eyes met his. " I am asliamed of it," she said, with an irrepressible movement of indignation — " ashamed that my countrymen can think to hide their disgrace under so sorry a jest. It will be time enough to make merry at our enemy's expense, when he no longer holds us besieged." She paused, and glanced at Mrs. Maverick. Seeing that estimable lady deep in a greasy little programme — hastily written on a sheet of paper torn out of an account-book — which she had procured from the door-keeper, Althea turned again to Jasper. "Mr. Fleming," she said hurriedly, "there's something I've wished to say to you, and to-night may be the last opportunity I shall ever have of saying it. I hardly know why I say it — yet I must, before oiu* paths divide for ever. I once, by a pure accident, overheard you say to your brother, that I was one of the women who make men traitors. I was very angry with you at the time ; but since then I've wished to tell you that you did me an injustice. I should be glad indeed that any one should return to his allegiance — but it must be because he was convinced of his error Loyal as I am to my country and my King, less than this could only move my contempt." She had laid her hand lightly on his arm as she began — her touch rested there but an instant, but it seemed to reopen his wounds, and to burn like fire in his veins. Yet he spoke as calmly as though his heart were not throbbing as if it would leap out of his bosom. " I knew you had heard what I said — I saw it in yoiu* eyes," he answered. " I repented of the words as soon as I had uttered them — I had no right to form so hasty a judgement, and I have long since known that my words w^ere as unjust as they were unwarrantable. I can only comfort myself by the reflection that no opinion of mine can have caused you much uneasiness." Althea had risen to her feet — as Jasper supposed, to look for her brother. As she looked down on him, he saw a strange expression in her beautiful eyes, which flashed through the tears that suffused them. "You would hardly believe," she said, with a kind of proud humility, and forcing her lips to a smile, " how much uneasiness those words caused me. " And then the curtain rose, and every one sat down, as a tall gaunt figiu-e, arrayed like a hedge-general in ragged regimentals, and armed with a portentous rusty sword, came on the stage. Before, XXX.] THE BLOCKADE OF J50ST0X. IGl however, this presentment of General Washington conhl open his mouth, a Sergeant rushed on l)ehin(l him, exclaiming, " The Yankees are attacking our works on Bunker's Hill ! " His words were received with ai)i)hiuse, as i)art of the phiy, and Captain Digl)y remarked to his friend the Ensign tliat the fellow did that capitally well ! But almost before the M'ords were said, every one in the hall was electrified at hearing Sir William Howe — who had instantly sprung to his feet — call out, " Officers, to your alarm-posts ! " Many of the ladies shrieked, and some of them fainted. The officers and soldiers present imnn.'diately left tlic hall, and as they went out a heavy booming sound, cinning at regular intervals, filled the night air Avith its ominous tolling. As the non-combatant portion of the audience poured con- fusedly out into the streets, Captain Digby snatched a moment to kiss his sister. " Don't be uneasy, Ally," he said. " Remember you're a soldier's sister " — this, being precisely the fact which was making Althea uneasy, was not particularly consoling. " For my part," lie continued, "a smart engagement would be a i)rodigious relief to my spirits — never was so hipped in all my life ! I wish they was Frenchmen — 'tis a cursed disagreeable thing to kill fellows that speak one's own language — but that's their affiiir — of course a soldier must do his duty, whether the enemy are Frenchmen or not. But it does come more natural to cut down a parlc-voos." Here the Ca[)tain perceived Jasper, and became as red as his own coat. " At any rate, I shan't cut yon down to-night, my dear fellow, and I hope I never shall," he said, extending his hand. " I can't of course ask you to wish me God speed — 'tis to be expected you wish me at the devil, though I'm hanged if I can look on you as an enemy." " I hope at least that you will return safe and sound ttj- morrow morning," said Jasper, shaking him wannly by both hands. " Thank you, my dear fellow, thank you," cries the Captain. " Good-night, Ally \ I shall be back in the morning — don't fret about me 1 " Although the alarm was a true one, nothing very important happened that night ; but a few mornings afterwards, Boston awoke to see Dorchester Heights occupied by General Thomas. As this placed the town at the enemy's mercy. Sir William Howe made instant preparations to attack with the ships. Meantime VOL. I. M t • :? : hi m !!!i i ■( ll ii;i H H r I fti I 1 162 A GREAT TREASON. [chap. Piituaiii Ix'^ijini to move down on the Charlestovvn side. A l)!ittlo, to wliich IJunkcr's Hill slionld Le a mere skirmish, seemed iiievitahle — when Heaven interposed. A t'urions winds])ranj?iii), which incr(>ased to ti storm so terriiio that no boat eould live in the surf. The human combatants were comi)elled to wait until the conflict of the elements had abated. In this predicament — abandoned by the home authoiities, hemmed in by the enemy, the fleet and army complaining,' of each other — Sir William Howe called a council, at wliich it was resolved to evacuate. There was an indirect attenqit at drivini;- a bargain with the enemy — Avho was to let Sir William depart in peace, on con- dition he did no mischief in tlie town. Mr. Crean Brush, however, was very busy for a day or two plundering stores — although Sir William sent round the provost and the hangman to string up the first man caught red-handed. But on the Satuiday night. General Washington (who was afraid reinforcements might arrive, and spoil all) jogged Sir William- elbow, Ity throwing up a b]'east-work on Nook's Hill, which commands Boston Neck. This was coming to close quarters indeed; and a deserter bring- ing in a re]iort that an immediate assault was intended, the troojis begai j embark at four o'clock on Sunday morning. Great was the confusion in the dark streets and on the wharves. Seventy-eight ships a)id transports all getting ready for sea, and twelve tlunisand soldiers, sailors, and refugees all hurrying to endjark — the last ^\ ith their families and worldly effects, and obliged to man their own vessels, as men enough could not be spared from the transports. Mend)ers of Council, Connnissioners, Custom-house officers, clergymen, merchants, farmers, tradesmen, mechanics, Avomen and children, sick and wounded, were crowded into every availa])le kind of transport. The men were glad to get out of the fever-stricken half-starved town, but the officers were in very poor spirits. " 'Tis a damned shame ! " says Captain Digby. " We are left to get out of the hole as we can — no despatches since October!" For they do not know that Ministers, being goaded with their neglect, did at last send a great supjdy — but so late in the season that half the ships were wrecked, and the British Channel was strewn with dead sheep and hogs. But the I'efugees and the loyal iidiabitants of Boston were the chief sufferers — leaving, as they did, country, home, friends, and often worldly goods behind them. One must needs feel a great pity for these unfortunate persons, whose consciences in XXX.] THE BLOCKADF OF BOSTON. 163 i\ 1 1 «(iinc cases, and whose fears in others, liadc them side with their Kin^if, at the cost of every one of their ohl assoeiations, and who (oven those of tlieni wliu were undoiihtedly conscientious in their clioiee) have received hut veiy httlc aihniration, even from tiie si(h' for whicli they made so great a sacrifice. Cai)tain Digby took leave of Jasper Fleming with many expressions of good-will, and begged him to give his most allcc- tionatc remendjrajiccs to Colonel and Mrs. Branxholm, Noel, .uid I\Iiss Mar/. " Tis a cursed tldng we should bo fn'ced to be enemies, Fleming," he said, with a sincere forget fulness of having onco tliought Jasper a detestable coxcond). " Fm sure we was cut out to be friends, and it's given me the greatest pleasiu-c to make your ac(iuaintance." "Don't say that, Digby," said Jasper, ]»•< sing his hand, "I shall always .onsider I owe you my life. But for you, I shouldn't be here." "Don't speak of it, Flemuig," cries Fred, "Noel did nuich more for me than ever Fvc done fur you — which was mere common humanity, and a }»leasure ])esides — and I beg you'll never think of it again. AVell, God bless you — and don't foiget to give my best respects to Miss Mary." The parting between Jasper and Althea Avas rather bitter. " To day restores you to liberty and your friends," said the 3^oung lady, as she bade him farewell. " And I sui)p(>!se the kind- est wish I can form for you is that we may never meet again." " Why should we not meet again in happier days, wdien our quarrel is reconciled ? " said Jasper, holding her hand, and speaking in a quick agitated voice. " Sooner or later it nuist be so ; this state of things cannot last for over. Will you not at least give me a message for my mother and N»jel 1 " " Give my love to your mother and Maiy," she rei>lied ; "and you may tell Noel that I wish I had repaid him better." Jasper turned very pale, tliough he could have expected no other answer. He tlianked her for all the kindness she had shown him in his illness. To Mrs. Maverick lie expressed him- S(df more strongly still ; but in the nature of the case it was a very painful farewell, and there wa.s soreness on both sides. And so, leaving crows' feet and dummy sentinels on Bunker's Hill, to gain time. Sir William embarked, and dropped down towards Nantasket Roads ; and the sceptre of New England had departed from Great Britain for ever. i .( ■'( l| n i i I ■ %\ ; ■ 161 A (IIJKAT TKKASON. [rllAIV It was as Altlica liad said; l()ii the way that Montj,'omery went with "Wolfe sixteen years before, but found the rrarrlson too strong,'. And then how, early in the she whispered mysteriously — " I hid his best foAvling-piece in the loft, and they never found it. But they took the two old ones, and they threatened him what they'd do, if he smuggled any powder from the Asia. That's all their fear. They thiidc the Tories are a-going to make a rising ; but, lor', why should they 1 My husliand says, let the King's soldiers do the fighting — they're paid for it — and let honest folks mind their own business." " But we all ought to help, as Icyal subjects, in these dread- ful times," began Mrs, Maverick, scandalised at this want of public spirit. " There's many ways of helpin', if you come to that, without runnin' your head agin a wall," remarked the hostess mysteri- ously. " I don't see as we're called to ruin ourselves — and the King jicrhaps never so nuich as hear of it." A call to the kitchen coming at this moment, she left the , 1 I r M (I: 7^ I ,f. 168 A (JREAT TREASON. [chap. ladies to their repast. Although the parlour door was shut, the passage was so narrow that almost every word could be heard. There was a l)risk discussiou going on, and although it was not much past noon, the flowing bowl had evidently not flowed in vain. " Look you, Jacob, you'd better take the oath, and put the accusers to silence," said a sarcastic voice. " Swaller it like a four-pound shot, Jacob," chimed in some one else. "]Jctter turn patriot, Jacob, before it's too late," said a third voice, which potations had rendered mellow. " 'Tud be a pity to have to tar and feather a man o' your figger ; you ain't the build, nuther, for lidin' on a rail. Why be obstinate'? Here's His Excellency's health, and Confusion to tyrants ! " There was an angry nmrmur of several voices, during which it may be presumed the speaker tossed off his glass, for, as if inspired by the toast, he presently struck into a song : "Our country calls for swords and balls Our tlrums aloud do rattle, Our lifer's cliarins arouse to arms, And Liberty calls to battle. Tol do rol, de rol, do rol ! "You don't seem to like the song, Jacob," he continued — and there was a sound as though he slapped some one on the back not over gently. " There's another verse, as 'nil suit your complaint better : "We have some noblo Congressmen, Elected for our nurses, And every jolly farmer -will Assist 'em with their purses. Tol de rol " Tliat is, if he don't we shall be under the sad necessity of compcUin' him," observed the singer, cutting short the burden of his sung to interpolate this remark. " Aud they may stay at home we say, And enjoy their state of ])leasure, "While we do t^o and light their foe, And save their lives and treasure. Tol de rol, de rol, de vol ! '' Ain't that only reasonable, Jacob ? Oh, Jacobus Quacken- boss, Jacol)US Quackenboss, I have great searchings of heart concerning thee. Jacobus Quackenboss ! I fear thou art a r] XXXI.] FLATIJLTSII. im time-server, Jacolnis — a {loul)le-dealcr, like tliy namesake the patriarch — a truckler to the Powers that be — a " " You let Mr. Quackenboss alone in my house," cried a coarser and louder voice. " He's mindin' his l)usiness — you mind yourn ! This sort o' song don't go down here. I'm master in this house, an' I'll let you know it ! " " Don't quarrel, gentlemen," said another voice, in a tone of mock entreaty. "What will the ladies in the ])arlour think of usV Here there was a laugh. "I know a verse or two of a song," he continued, " that may be will please the company better — 'twas made by a friend o' my own." And to the tune of Yanlcee Boodle he struck up in a rollicking voice : " Colonel Hcavd has conio to town, A -thinking lor to phuider, Before he'd done he had to run — He heard the cannon tluuider. " And when he came to Hem])stead town, He heard the cannon rattle — Poor Colonel Heard he ran away And dared not face the battle." There was a roar of laughter. Pots and glasses rattled and clattered, and a general hubbub followed, in which every one seemed to be talking at once. Althea had listened with a heightened colour, and an expression of haughty anger. Mrs. Maverick looked anxious and displeased. " If I have unwittingly brought you into a situation unfit for a young gentlewoman, my dear, I shall never forgive myself," she said in great distress. " I am sure I acted for the best, as I thought " " My dear cousin," said Althea, " I fear there is scarce a place to which we could have gone where we should not have been exposed to hear rebel sentiments." " I believe Quackenboss is there — I am sure I heard that poor misguided wretch say * Jacobus Quackenboss,'" pursued the old lady, knitting her brows. * ' If Quackenboss has turned rebel " But at this moment Captain Ward came in, followed by a stolid and rather sheepish-looking individual, who seemed to come against his will. '' Oil, ]\Ir. (Quackenboss ! " exclaimed Mrs. Maverick on ):* ■j l< !iil 1( ?! ■■B^sr^^wi 1 ii I ' ■ 170 A GREAT TREASON. [CUAP seeing this latter person ; " I daresay you're sur})rise(l to see me, but I had no means of sending you word as I was coming. I hope, however, you've no objections to this young lady and me spending tlie summer at the farm, as we used to do in my poor husband's time." " Well; no; I s'posc you can come. But things ain't ready," said Quackenboss slowly. " The waggin's here handy," put in Captain Ward, cutting short any further demur on Jacob's part ; " and the landlady'll lend you a couple of cheers, and you'll get in nicely afore dark — the road not being very bad." The Captain assisted in hoisting the ladies up into the wagon — a work of some difficulty in Mrs. Maverick's case, as she declared she could not and would not go up a ladder, which the ostler had brought from the loft for her convenience. However, she was safely landed at last, and she and Althea were comfortably settled in two broad-bottomed, splay-legged elbow-chairs, on either of which the most ponderous of the old Dutch Governors of New York might have sat down without a misgiving. The Captain sliot up over the tail of the wagon, as though it had been a ship's side, to shake Miss Digby by the hand, made his bow to Mrs. Maverick, wished thcni a safe voyage and a joyful coming into port, and disappeared — while Jacobus took command of the horses from a tm-ned-up cask in the front of the wagon. Mrs. Maverick, who had expressed her thanks to the Captain, was graciously pleased to wave her hand to him, when, some ten mhuites after (Jacobus having by that time g(jt as much as fifty yards from the ferry), they saw him still standing at the inn door. " I'm sure I don't know what we should have done without him," she observed. " Did he say what he was doing here, my dear Althea ? " Altlica replied that, from a word or two he had dropped, she fancied he was watching t\\^ coast. As this could only mean that he was watching it in the rebel interest, Mrs. Maverick sighed. "The Bible says rebellion is as the sin of witch.craft," she said presently. " And I'm sure 'tis as mysterious in the way it spreads, and the people it gets hold of." Althea said nothing. The ride was a very silent one. J'loobus answered Mrs. Maverick's civil impiiries by mono- ihh XXXI.] FLATBUSH. 171 syllables, or by the very briefest of sentences — the fewness of the words being, however, somewhat eked out by the slow- ness with which they ■were uttered. Jacobus was every inch a Dutchman. Square and .i^lid, slow and sure, he diffused around him a sense of industrious leisure, which he appeared to have communicated to the great white horses which drew the two- spanner. In person he was caimcious — as were his nether gar- ments. His hair was still of a bright chestnut colour, so bright and tliick that it might have been a wig, — but Jacobus would have scorned any such attempt to improve upon nature. His eyes were very small ; and though it could not be said that they never looked one in the flice, they seldom willingly dwelt long on a human countenance. When Jacobus was engaged in con- versation with any one (it would be more correct to say, wlicn any one was engaged in conversation with Jacobus), he usually became deeply interested in some object in a far coiner of the room or in the extreme distance of the landscape, occasionally shooting a glance to see if the enemy was still there. But this afternoon his presence was soothing. After nine months spent in a besieged town, with scarcely a day unbroken by the roar of cannon, the quiet of a country road, the sleepy turn of the wheels, the budding green of the yowng trees, all brought a delightful restfulness to the travellers. "Surely, dear cousin, we have exchanged war for peace," said Altliea, laying her hand on i\Irs. Maverick's, with an irrepressible yearning for sympathy. And j\Irs. Maverick replied, " God grant, dear child, that we have ! " And so they rumbled along towards Flatbush, in the linger- ing March sunset — wdiich always looks like a smile shining before the tears are dry. * -x- * •* ^ The old Dutch farmhouse before which Jacol)us Quackcn- boss brought his waggon to a halt, just as one or two pale-eyed stars showed in the fading saffron of the sky, looked the fitting- goal of their journey. " Here is peace," said the closed win- dows, the neatly-kept flower-border under the house, the solemn old white-oak which stood in such neighbourly nearness to the sloping eave — even the old dog who came out stretching and yawning, with a bark or two out of [lure formality — everything spoke of settled ways, of case and quietness. " Fetch out the steps. I've got JMrs. Maverick," said Jacobus to a gray-haired man and a raw-boned youth, who |i^ ti 1 1. I .i ^'\ ii 172 A GREAT TREASON. [OIIAV, 1 all S: E-: tF; ll ■ r I t : t ! I came from the back of the lioii«r> at tlie sound of the wagon- wheels. " Yonichy ! Yonicliy Come out, Yonichy ! " A short stout woman in a cL '■ fitting cap appeared at the door, shading a candle with her hand. "Come out, Yonichy; I've got Mrs. Maverick," repeated Jacob. " Good lack !" exclaimed the woman, coming out. " How do you do, Ma'am 1 Dear, dear, if I had but a- known " " It was impossible, my good Mrs, Quackenboss," said IMrs. ]\Iaverick, breathless with the exertion of descending from her rustic chariot. "You know you are always as clean as a new i)in, and that's enough for me." To which Mrs. Quackenboss only repeated, " Dear, dear, if I'd a-known " Here her eye fell on Miss Digby, and she stared at that young lady in a fresh access of surprise and discomfiture. " That's a friend of Mrs. Maverick's ; she's come too," observed Jacobus, seeing his spouse's perplexity. " This is my niece — that is, she is really a young cousin of mine," interposed Mrs. Maverick — while Althca won her future hostess's heart at once, by protesting she did not come to give any trouble, and hoped Mrs. Quackenboss would not put her- self to any on her ■'. jcount, to which Mrs. Maverick added that for that night at least they must and would sit in the kitchen — and marched in with no more ado. If the outside of the house was as plain as a barn, the inside was adorned with a cleanliness that many a palace cannot show. The fire in the huge open chimney glowed with fragrant pine-logs, and kindled itself anew in every dish-cover, saucepan, candlestick, and frying-pan. It gleamed on the rows of big-paunched jugs which hung from the brass hooks of the dresser ; and it tipped each individual hook with a living diamond. The sanded floor, the polished chairs, the table set out for supper, all seemed hospitably to say, — " Pray, step in ! " while a cheerful old Dutch clock ticked away close to the ceiling, Ika a gigantic cricket. Mrs. Quackenboss, with fresh laments at not having known, made her unexpected guests sit by the fire, while she retired into a second kitchen, behind the "house-place," where the actual work was done, to make some hasty additions to the meal. A very square-faced little girl of perhaps eight years old, pre- sently made her appearance, and — ignoring all the advances of Mrs. Maverick and Althea — Avent up to her father (who stood r.\ XXXI.] FLATIJUSII. 173 with his back tlivce-quiirtcrs turned to his guests), and ])osses8- iiig herself of the tail of his coat, appeared to he awaiting her execution with imperturbable resignation. As for Jacobus, in not going to see his horses put up, he was paying Mrs. INIaverick the highest compliment he could have paid to any one, were it King George himself. " Make your manners to the ladies, 'Tilda," he said in a low voice, " an' let my coat-tail be." Matilda on this turned her own buck outright, and appeared to be sucking her thumb — as atibrding some slight moral support in so unprecedented a trial as the presence of two strange ladies. "Matilda is very much grown, Mr. Quackenboss," said Mrs. Maverick, wishing to put an end to this embarrassing situation. " Why, bless me ! what have you done with your clock-weight 1 " For as the good lady's eyes rested on ]\Iatilda's straw- coloured head, they caught sight just beyond it of a large stone attached to the chain, in lieu of a weight. Quackenboss faced round, looked a moment at Mrs. Mave- rick, and then earnestly contemplated a side of bacon which hung from a beam, as he replied stolidly, — " It was took for lead." "For lead 1" asked Mrs. Maverick, not realising his mean- ing for the moment. " Lead for bullets," explained Jacobus, his eye resting still on the bacon. " Bullets for shootin'." " Shooting snipes and wild fowl, I suppose 1 " observed Mrs. Maverick, refusing to admit a horrid suspicion. " Snii)es — or Tories, as the case might be," said Jacobus, with true Dutch phlegm, yet evidently uttering the words on compulsion. " Good heavens ! Mr. Quackenboss ! " exclaimed Mrs. Maverick, turning as red as the copper saucepan which Avas at this instant engaging her tenant's attention. " Do you m^an to tell me you allowed the rebels to carry oft' your dock- weights, to make bull'ts of to shoot His Majesty's loyal subjects with?" " Well," said Jacobus slowly, shifting his gaze to the fry- ing-])an ; " I'm afeared that's about what 'twas they took 'em for, for 'twas Colonel Heard as took 'em, and finely I've been l)lagued about it ever since — though I ain't the only one, not by a long chalk, as had their weights took — and their guns too, for that matter." ;ii!i if 174 A CREAT TREASON, [CIIAI*. ■ i- 1 " And dill you not resist 1 " "There was too jnany on 'cm," said Jacolnis. "When tlicre's a Colonel a-ttJkin' fire an' l)rimst()ne, an' a file o' niinute- nien a-lookin' tar an' leathers, an' your wife a-cryin' " The unusual effort of uttering? so numy words at once here ])roved \uade it look like that of a mai-jjiC tavern. The old inn, \vitl\ its rough weutlier-boardingf gave that part of the HtYwt a still more out-of-town asix^^l than it would otherwise have had; but no one locked at the inn — all eyes v.ev(> tumcd towards the door of the State Hous<^ K\ery one knew tliat rennsylvania and Maryland haut he came to in a min- ute or so, and went on with his observations," he continued, when he had given his hearers time to digest this impressive fact. "They say there's not a better astronomer to be found anywhere — hot all over Europe, nor England neither ; and his orrery's the best as ever was made, and 'tis a great shame to us we haven't gotten it hero in Philadelphia." " My memory goes back further nor yourn, Mr. School- master — a vasty deal further back," quavered a very aged man, small and shrivelled, who was sitting in the shade, on a chair which a woman had brought out for him. " I remember when this fair-built town was a little lot o' cabins in the wilderness — lodges in a garden o' cowcumbers, as you might say. I've seen Injuns' wigwams, where now there's stores an' meetin'-houses, an' red men paddlin' their canoes, where now there's vvharves with merchantmen a-layin' alongside. I mind pickin' bla(!k- berries an catchin' wild conies where now there's streets. I can remember William Penn — I could show you the very place where his cabin stood ; it warn't much like the Slate-Roof House, I reckon," said the old man, with a feeble cackling laugh. "Rome warn't built in a day, they say — no more warn't Philadelphia ; but I mind the buildin' o' most part on't." " Ay, that you do. Master Drinker," said the woman who had brought out the chair. " I've hearn my fother say as you an' the city was pretty nigh the same age." " Pretty nigh, pretty nigh," said the old man in his high thin voice. "I can look back more'n eighty years. Eighty years is a long time in a man's life ; but in the life of a city it counts for but a few days. I'm an old man, but this is a young city — young an' foir, young an' fair; and I bless the Lord for letting me see this day before I depart in peace." " How much has happened in those eighty years, Jasper 1 " said Mary, as they moved a little nearer the platform. " It is impossible to imagine that as much can happen in the next eighty." " Do you think history's tale is done 1 " said Jasper, smiling. xxxn.] THE OLD BELL OE INDEPENDENCE. 177 high Eighty a city is a 5S the "A whole now page is ^ning to he unrolled to-day, and all wo who stand here shall luivo tt) write some of its lines.'' As iio spoke, the gi'oat boll began to ring above thoir headn. "Now, thank Cod!" he exclaimed, grii)ping Mary's hand tighter -** they have agreed to the DeolaratiDii ! " The quick joyful strokes smi»to on the air; the snninior day seemed to have suddenly found a tongue. Old Notl Drinker stood up and waved his hat, and most of tin; jjcople cheered — though some of the groups drew back a little, as if alike reluctant to go or to stay. A substantial looking citizen, m hose garb showed him to be a Quaker — and whose fresh -coloured impassive face was a singular contrast to many of tiie eager countenance around him— said to Jasper, " I i)erceive, friend, that thee rejoices ; but has thee sn^ down and counted the cost, whether thee is able with ten thousand to meet him that Cometh against thee with twenty thousand 1 IMoreover, has thee considered that these Colonies can no more tloiu'ish cut otf from Great Britain, than a limb can live after it is cut off from the body, or a branch aft( r it is torn from the tree?'' "But we can take a sHp and ])lant it, and it can grow to a greater tree than its parent," replied Jasper. There was a murmur of assent from those A'.ho heard his answer, and a group of listeners collected round the disputants as the Quaker asked, loud enough for everybody to hear, — "What are we, left to ourselves 1 This very bell, set a-ringing to announce your rash defiance, was fetched hither from Enghuid " "But it was recast here — and they say we taught it a sweeter tunc than it had at first," retorted Jasper. His reply evoked a slight cheer. The Quaker, however, seemed in no wise silenced ; but at that instant a thrill ran through the crowd — by that time very nuicli increased — and every one said, — " They are coming out ! " There was a deep silence (except for the pealing of the great bell), as the members of Congress crowded out. Most of them stood on the stejjs and in the hall. A few went up with Colonel Nixon into the observatory. Many a well-known face was there, and among the foremost stood Samuel Adams, his gray head bared to the sun. He saw Jasper, and waved his hand to him with a gesture of triumph. There too was Dr. Withorspoon of Princeton, in whose veins ran the blood of John Knox — a whisper was already going round the crowd that his words had finally determined the hesitating delegates. VOL. L N • i, i^ 1' (i '.,, IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-S) // 4 *% < <, V % / 5r «z 10 ■ 50 1^ 1^ ■U 12.2 Sili ' us II I.I f "^ i^ IL25 il.4 11.6 V5 % >> >.^^ '^>,.*' Photographic Sciences Corporation 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. 1458G (716)872-4503 >3 [V ^ ^S^ 'Jy" 4&tf> /. '^ & 6^ 178 A GREAT TREASCN. [CIIAP. ■; . i ..: \ The generations which have inherited that day's deed ha'v^e often shown much arrogance in their rejoicings over it ; but those who actually bore a part in it were mostly too much in earnest for any vulgar bragging, and had too well counted the cost. Nixon's voice rang loud and clear — sound travelled far in Philadelphia, perhaps by some peculiarity of atmosphere — and a quarter of the listening city might have heard. All the civilised world has heard it since. The first reading of that famous Declaration has been cele- brated since then, in all parts of the habitable and uninhabitable globe. The sons and daughters of those rebellious colonists have kept that day with sober thankfulness, with rowdy merriment, with exultant pride, with solemn memories, from the forests of Maine to the swamps and jungles of Louisiana, and from the Atlantic to the Pacific Oceans. As that day comes round, it is remembered on the other side of the world — in nooks of the Alban Hills, in passes of the Appenines, among the Umbriau Mountains, and by the banks of Arno, in many a German town, in the heartless streets of Paris, and on ships tossing in mid-ocean, far from any land. Even amidst the eternal desolations of the north, in the brief Arctic summer, that day has been celebrated. On that day, every American, wherever he may be, thinks of home, and if he be in a far country, feels the pangs of home- sickness. If it happen to him to keep that day in the mother- country, whose rule his ancestors cast off, he can perhaps afford after the lapse of a hundred years, to remember it with some abatement of the old bitterness, even though with no less of the old pride. There are wounds that ache for centuries — time itself but skins them over — and this is one. But after a hun- dred years, the inheritor of that day can perhaps afford to remember that his blood, his language, his religion, his stubborn independence itself, are all English — as he says devoutly, Qui TRANtjTULIT SUSTINET. CHAPTER XXXIII. THE DUTY OF A CHKISTIAN MAN". The reading was over ; the people huzzaed, and the Old Bell called all the other bells of the city to rejoice with him that another nation was born, [chap. xxxiri.] THE DUTY OF A CHRISTIAN MAN. 179 As Jasper and IMnry turned to go — when a sort of solemn hush had fallen on the crowd — the Quaker who had spoken before said reprovingly to Jasper, — "Young man, thee looks as though thee had just gotten thy heart's desire ; but lor all that, remember that they that take the sword shall perish by the sword ! " " Say that to cowards, Master Roberts ! " cried the school- master, pushing forward, his pale foce glowing and quivering with excitement. " We ain't afraid to die, if that's all you've gotten to frighten us with ! And hit me tell you, you'll find you've run your head against a wall — or something worse perhaps— if you go about Philadelphia preaching submission to tyranny ! " " I think I am like to be in more danger of nmning my head against a wall, in resisting the power of Great Britain/' rejoined the Quaker. " King George hath a long arm, friend schoolmaster, and we are like to feel it. It is impossible this attempt at Independence can succeed — 'tis sheer madness." *"Tis impossible we can fail — if we can only hold out long enough," cried Jasper ; " and we can hold out long enough if we will but dare do it ! All we need is courage and patience. The King of England is stronger than we, I grant you ; but in this quarrel he will be as a man who is fighting at arm's length — he can but touch us with the tips of his fingers." " We are not to resist evil, but to give place unto wrath," said Roberts, shifting his ground. "Yet the Lord Himself bade His disciples take a sword," said Jasper. " We did not seek this quarrel — 'twas forced upon us ; and for how many years have we not had patience 1 As for perishing, we must all die once — and blest are they who die, like Joseph Warren, for their country ! " A deep hum went round the crowd at the mention of Warren's name. Roberts flushed with some carnal wrath as he replied, — " Thee speaks as a soldier and a man of blood, young man, and I fear art of those of whom it is written, ' Cursed is the people that delight in war.'" As the Quaker said this he looked at Jasper's uniform with evident disfavour. " Nay — I am not a soldier save by sad necessity. I am a lawyer by profession, and, God knows, peaceably enough ^inclined by nature," returned Jasper. ■ If thee is a lawyer, friend, thee belongs to a trade which (( ir if h v' ^■ *■- T k ' II 180 A GREAT TREASON. [chap. ,1 has no place in the Kingdom of Heaven," returueci Roberts. Several people standing by laughed. "You would withdraw the Christian man from the commonwealth," said Jasper rather warmly. *' We have tried all other means ; there is nothing left now but the sword or slavery. The Christian man is a citizen, and must do his duty as a citizen. Our Indr^pendence hath been this day proclaimed. We are this day a nation. For that Independence we must, if needs be, even lay down our lives. Whoever here is not afraid to be a man, say with me, God preserve the united Colonies of North America ! " Jasper had addressed his brief speech to a little knot of people, whom his passage of arms with the Quaker had attracted to the spot. As he took off his hat at the last words, all the men, with the single exception of Eoberts, followed his example, and the women cried "Amen ! " "I was very glad you said what you did, dear cousin," said Mary, as they went home. " I wish Noel could have heard you." "I was obliged to speak, lest Roberts should daunt the people," he replied. " Philadelphia is not whole-hearted like Boston; there are many here who would compound if they could. But I think that after this there can be no drawing back." Mrs. Brauxholm and Mary had now been some time in Philadelphia. As the spring advanced, and it became evident that the blockade of Boston would soon be raised, and the theatre of war removed southwards. Colonel Branxholm (who was now a Brigadier -General, having been appointed in the early part of the wintei*) had resolved not to run the rislc of leaving his family at Oglethorpe, exposed to any Indian rising which the disturbed state of the country might bring about. Nor wera Indians the only danger. Party rancom* had not yet reached the fi-ightful virulence which it was soon to display, but already neighbours were arrayed against each other, and many a lifelong friendship had tm^ned to bitter hatred. Mr. Butler of Fairmead had definitively taken his stand on the side of the British Government ; and it was reported at Oglethorpe that his son had accepted a commission in a Corps of irregular cavalry being raised by the Tories of Virginia. The isolated position of Oglethorpe made its efficient, defence very difficult, even in ordinary times of distm-Jbance ; XXXIII.] THE DUTY OF A CHRISTIAN MAX. 181 and General Branxholm liiul now additioiiiil and iiai'ticnliir reason for anxiety, in the course taken by another branch of the Butler family. They were very distant relations of the Butlers of Fairmead, and the two branches had never been on cordial terms. This branch of the family had fiercely espoused the British side, and had already shown by actions as well as by words that they intended to disregard all considerations of kinship. Mr. Butler of Fairmead had highly disapproved of the intemperate spirit in which his cousins had taken their side, and had expressed himself in terms viiich had brought on him the taunt of being no better than a rebel at heart himself. Mr. Butler was by this time on very cool terms with his relations at Oglethorpe, but he had nevertheless sent a message to his sister to advise her to remove to safer quarters — and above all, not to reckon on the Butlers' forbearance should the war become general. With all these reasons for fear, it was an immense relief to General Branxholm to know that his wife was safely lodged in the Slate-Roof House, whither she had brought everything of value which could possibly be removed, and where she arrived in time to see General Washington when he visited the city in May. Oglethorpe was abandoned to the care of the General's white overseer, assisted by Nebuchadnezzar — on whose shoulders (in his own opinion) rested the chief weight of government. And certainly, if multiplicity of orders constitute government, Nebuchadnezzar ruled Oglethorpe. His very aspect was changed — a portentous solemnity invested his features^ and he was on one occasion heard to remark that the " sponsabilaty was a'most too much for one back to bear up under," and that he felt " like as if he was car'yin' a mountain." He would doubtless have likened himself to Atlas, had he ever heard of that over-burdened immortal. Uncle Memnon with his futile reminiscences of my Lord Baltimore was nowhere — Nebuchadnezzar crushed him with a shake of his care-laden brow. Was Lord Baltimore himself ever in such a responsible situation as I am 1 he seemed to ask with sorrowful triumph, and Uncle Memnon was fain to confine his reminiscences to an audience of an age too tender to discriminate clearly between great and small. Mary remained with her aunt, even after Boston was evacuated. The journey was long, and the country much dis- turbed, and it seemed better to leave her where she was in safety — especially as for many months after the evacuation ! I f 182 A GREAT TREASON. [cHAr. i ^ : P there were frequent runiour.s of an intended attack on Boston by sea. Mrs. Fleming supported her dau^liter's absence with char- acteristic resignation — furtlier assisted by the conviction that Providence was thus preparing the realisation of her favourite plan. Ever since the untimely death of her own son, the good lady had cherished the hope that Jasper would take that son's place. He had somewhat disai)pointed this hope, inasmuch as he had applied himself to the law, instead of becoming a ship- builder and owner like his father and uncle. But at that time it was not impossible to combine several callings. Jasper had on many occasions shown considerable mechanical ability, and had suggested one or two material improvements in the stow- age of corgoes, and even in some of the details of shipbuilding; and Mrs. Fleming kept the hope in a corner of her heart that he would yet take to business — for she had moments when the certainty of his being one of the chief merchants of Boston seemed to her more desirable than the possibility of his attaining to the honours of a judgeship. In either case, however, Jasper was evidently the husband appointed for Mary in the decrees of Heaven. Mrs. Fleming was one of those timid but tenacious women who are jealous of strangers. She had herself married her cousin, and she made a clannish distinction between her own family and the rest of the world. It seemed to her that there was safety in Mary's marrying Jasper. It is true his views on all subjects were on a scale so much larger than her own, that she had never even succeeded in grasping them ; but his moral character was irreproachable, his fortune was ample — and, above all, he was of her own flesh and blood. This being the case, Mrs. Fleming easily persuaded her husband that the journey was dangerous, and that Philadelphia was far safer than Boston, and Mary had better remain there. Jasper (whose company was ordered to New York the day after the evacuation) concurred in his aunt's view, being toler- ably certain that both his mother and Mary would thank him for doing so. Jasper had long ago seen through poor Mrs. Fleming's transparent devices for bringing him and Mary together, and he had his private reasons for thinking that no harm would result from them to either party. He departed therefore, charged with a bulky packet of letters, and with multitudinous messages, which he was to deliver as soon as his duties would permit him to ask for a few days' leave of absence. \XXIV.] A TAINTED KOSE. 183 CHAPTER XXXIV. A PAINTED KOSE. " Absence is vain, for everytliing Wliicli I have known lielong to yon, Your form does to my fancy bring, And makes my old wounds bleed anew." Jasper Fleming's services at Bunker's Hill were not forgotten, and very soon after his arrival at New York he received a Colonel's commission in the artillery. He immediately found a safe hand by which to send the letters ; but the messages had to wait until early in July he was able to go himself to Philadelphia. He accomplished this journey on horseback, accompanied by his negro servant, Tele- machus— the same lad who opened Mr. Fleming's door to Noel Branxholm on the night of his return from England. Tclemachus was a native of Oglethorpe, and had been presented to Jasper some years before by Colonel Branxholm. Somewdiat to the surprise of his friends, Jasper had freed him ; but Telemachus was so devoted to his master that this made no visible differ- ence in their relations, and those who prophesied that Jasper would " spoil a good nigger," saw their predictions disappointed. Jasper found his mother established in the Slate -Roof House at; the corner of Second Street, then one of the best boarding-houses in the town, and where several members of Congress (including Mr. John Adams himself) were lodged. She had brought a couple of servants with her, and lived as much as possible in the Virginian way — somewhat to the scandal of the strictest Philadelphians, who had never seen a person so entirely content to do nothing at all. Like many idle persons, however, Mrs. Branxholm could exert herself on occasion ; and she did so notably at her first arrival, insisting on having a particular room as her sitting-room, and giving further offence by changing the position of the furniture. " Every one else had thought the furniture was set where it should be," murmured the insulted landlady of the Slate-Roof House. " Mrs. Adams had said it was set up real elegant. But Madam Branxholm seemed to think what did for other people wouldn't do for her." However, no one could long resist Madam Branxholm— she had her way, and the walnut press was removed to behind the door, II 1 184 A GREAT TREASON. [c'HAl', ;! .1 h & and the sofa put in its iilacc. ]\Iailani Branxliolni was reclin- ing on this very sofa, when Jasijcr and Mary returned. " Tell nic all about it ! " she exclaimed, sijringing up as they entered. " I heard the bells ring, and was sorry I did not go with you ; but I did not believe they woidd agree for days yet." " They have agreed, dear mother," said Jasper, sitting down beside her, and kissing her fondly. "I wish you had been there — it was all quiet enough." " You don't think I was afraid, I hope, Jasper ! " cried Mrs. Branxholm, with briskness enough to have taken her to the State House. " I was lazy, and I thought there would be nothing to see, and it was a hot day — but I was not afraid ! " " I never saw you afraid yet, mother," said Jasper, putting his arm round her waist in lover-like fashion, as he added mali- ciously, " It may be that you are only too lazy to run away." Jasper had not gone far in his account of the morning, before Mary interrupted him, protesting that he was leaving out his own part. ''You ought to have been there. Aunt, to have heard him reply to Mr. Roberts, who was all for pouring cold water on the Declaration," she said. " And he made a speech that you would have been proud to hear." As Mary said this, her eyes sought Jasper's with sisterly admiration, and her cheeks glowed brightly — he thought she had grown handsomer than ever. While Mary was descanting on Jasper's oratory, he had time to glance round the room. It had from the first oddly recalled to him Mrs. Maverick's sitting-room in Boston, but he did not know what it was that had touched the hidden springs of memory, until his mother said, — " You are looking at those pretty painted fans. Are they not sweetly done? Althea Digby copied them from a pair JMrs. Maverick had, and I hap- pened to say I had always admired them, and nothing would do but the dear girl must make me accept of them. Fetch them here, Mary, my love ; I want Jasper to see them closer." Mary brought the fans. They were painted very delicately with fuchsias and roses, in the stiffly graceful fashion of a hun- dred years ago. " Are they not sweetly painted 1 " repeated his mother. " Take them in your own hand, Jasper; they bear looking into." As Jasper took the screens from Mary, and examined them, he knew that her clear eyes were reading him, and was con- XXXIV.] A PAINTED ROSE. 185 scions of looking riithcr foolish, even amidst the piing which he always now felt at hearing Althea's name. " They are very beantifully done," he said gravely. " When did she give them to you, mother ? " He had a ridiculous diliiculty in fixing his attention on the painted flowers — Althea's lace would come floating between him and her handiwork. " At Oglethorpe," replied Mrs. Branxholm. " She is a delightful creature ! I call her quite one's idea of a heroine. Her brother is a fine young fellow in his way, but not a patch on his sister. Do but look at the fuchsias again, Jasper ; they always remind me of the way she droops her own head, when she is in one of her softer moods. Don't you think so 1 " " I rarely had the advantage of seeing Miss Digby in one of her softer moods," said Jasper drily — but he changed colour a little as he spoke. " You ungrateful wretch ! " cried his mother ; " I protest, I shall have to box your ears ! Did she not nurse you when you was wounded 1 Oh, my poor dear boy, what would I not have given to be there myself ! " she said, tenderly stroking his cheek. " Your cheek burns — you are feverish," she exclaimed hastily. "You must have one of my fever draughts at once ! Riding for days in the sun, as you have " She would have sprung up to fetch it, but Jasper gently but firmly detained her. " My dear mother," he said, " I am perfectly well, and if the decoction you propose to give me is the one I imagine it to be, its nastiness so infinitely surpasses all its other qualities, that now I am come to years of discretion, and am a Colonel of artillery, I am resolved to swallow no more of it." Mary laughed, but Mrs. Branxholm with perfect good faith replied that medicine which had any strength in it was inevit- ably nasty. " If that be so, dearest mother, your potion must have Iteen originally mixed for a sick elephant ; at any rate I'll have none of it," replied Jasper ; at which even his mother w^1s obliged to laugh, and say he was always an obstinate boy, and she must give him up. Then she returned to the subject of Althea, and would have Jasper tell her over again the story of his captivity. " Poor Noel ! I am sure he will envy you for having been nursed by Althea," she said, playing with one of the fans which she had taken out of Jasper's hand — he had forgotten to lay it down. " Between you and me, Jasper, Noel is mightily I '8 i I « i 18G A GREAT TREASON. [chap. smitten witli her — antl, upon my word, I don't wonder at it. I never could bo quite sure whether she returned it or no ; I watched her sharp enough too, Imt she fairly jnizzled me. She has an uncommon interest in him, 'tis evident ; but whether 'tis of that particular kind is another matter — and, to be sure, Noel saved Lieutenant Digby's life. Finely his father scolded him for his rashness ; but 'twas a most gallant affair, and Mcsliach Pike, when he came to hear about it, said Noel behaved like an old general." " Digby has often described it to me," said Jasper. "Digby thinks the world of Noel, and is always lamenting that they cannot fight side by side. When we heard the first rumours that General Arnold had failed, he came to me with the tears in his eyes, to ask me if I had any secret news — he knew I got some sometimes — and when I told him I'd been assured Noel was not among the slain, his joy would have won my heart for ever, if I had not loved him already. He is as free from guile or self-seeking as Noel himself. Would to God the dear boy were safe back again ! I lie awake of nights imagining all sorts of things, and so, I doubt not, mother, do you ! " " I could not endure it, was I at Oglethorpe," cried Mrs. Branxholm. " Here, with so many other wives and mothers in a like situation, and with Mary to cheer me when I'm dull, 'tis more tolerable. But I must have your opinion of Noel and Althea. What do you think, Jasper ? you had opportunity of observing her." " I think she detests me as the instrument whereby (as she pleases herself to think) Noel was persuaded to rebellion," said Jasper, steadily meeting Mary's eye. " She is too generous not to be kind to a vanquished enemy — she called me so one day — but in her heart she accuses me of having decoyed him from his loyalty, and she likes him well enough to owe me a grudge for it." If Jasper had wished to punish Mary for having noted his embarrassment he had his revenge; her own eyes fell before his, and her cheeks grew a little pale. " I told you so, Mary ! You would always have it that she only felt for him as a sister might for a brother ; but you hear what Jasp - says ! " " All I know is, she as good as told me at Oglethorpe that she had no other but sisterly regard for him," said Mary, reddening again XXXIV.] A PAINTED ROSE. 187 Now Jasper knew the history of that day perfectly — hav- ing had it from his motlier in a letter, for which he paid treble postage. He remembered with singular distinctness that Althea on that memorable occasion had bestowed an embrace, sisterly or otherwise, on Noel; and he privately inclined to the belief that her speech about sisterly affection meant no more than that she could never receive the addresses of a rebel. He was aroused from these reflections by his mother playfully shaking him, and declaring that she had asked him a question three times over. " I beg your pardon, mother ; you set me thinking, and I went off in a brown study, as you used to call it when we were boys," he said, trying to give a jesting turn to the conversation. " What is the question ? " " I have been asking you three times what you think of her yourself?" "Of MissDigby?" " Of course ; you know very well we have been talking of no one else." " That is a difficult question to answer in a moment," he replied, feeling the old embarrassment come over him. He nervously took up the other fan and seemed to be counting the thorns on the rose as he said, hesitating between each word, — " I think her beautiful — and accomplished " "And high-minded," cried his mother. "Surely you think her high-minded 1 " "And high-minded," said Jasper, in the same slow quiet tone. "And so proud, that she would, I fear, sacrifice another's happiness — and perhaps her own — to that pride." " You are right there, Jasper," said Mary. " Or, at least, 'twould be a hard struggle. Yet I love her dearly ; and if she would but let her heart speak, what a heart it would be ! " " She'll come round — she must," exclaimed Mrs. Branx- holm cheerfully. "We shall have peace at last — Captain Digby will come into his uncle's fortune, and all will be well in the end. But when will you get a sweetheart for yourself, dear boy 1 For my part, I'm not one of those mothers that hate their sons should marry. I've fancied sometimes — if you was to keep anything from me, Jasper — any grief, I mean — 'twould cut me to the heart ! I've fancied " " Dearest mother, you are all the sweetheart I ever had, be assured of that," said Jasper — smiling at her, as the Spartan 188 A (JRKA r TREASON. [tllAP, boy smiled wliilc the fox tore liiin. ITc fmnd it tliffici'lt to meet Mary's eye without wincing, hut h(^ disscmhlcd admiraidy with liis motlier. "There can be littL- thought of love or marriage ft)r many a 192 A OREAT TREASON. [chap. He persisted in this charge, in spite of all that Jasper conld say, and bitterly reproached his nephew for having seduced Noel. "You flatter me, Uncle — I am happy to know that my brother needed no one to show him on which side the right lay," said Jasper with some warmth. " Don't Uncle me, sir ! " cried Mr. Butler in a rage. " You provoke me to forget you're my nephew ! " "You shall not provoke me to forget that you are my mother's brother, sir," answered Jasper quietly. At the moment there was a look on his face which reminded Mr. Butler of his fiither — between whom and himself there had been very little love lost. "It is useless to prolong our interview, sir," continued Jasper. "I am sorry you did not let my cousins go with Mr. Smith to Haverstraw, where they would have been safer than they can be here. As for the other question, you have made your choice and I have made mine, and I do not think either of us is very likely to change our minds." The girls kissed Jasper, regardless of their father's frown ; but uncle and nephew parted without even a clasp of the hand. This specimen of the rancour excited by the troubles of the times made Jasper forget all about the encounter of wits be- tween Connecticut and Maryland. " He had recrossed the ferry, and had got nearly as far as the guard -house, when he per ceived a crowd of soldiers and civilians — in the midst of whom he instantly recognised the tall figure of General Washington himself. His Excellency was giving vent to one of those rare outbursts of passions, which his usual self-command made idl the more terrible. "Good God! gentlemen," he was exclaiming — while his blue eyes fairly blazed with anger — " if your notion of the way to defend your country is to break each other's heads, you will save the enemy a deal of trouble, and I had better throw up my command ! This is not the first time I have been revolted, by the disgusting spectacle of men who profess to be united in one great and sacred cause, allowing their petty jealousies of each other to interfere with their duty to their country ! Let me see it no more ! " Most of those assembled looked sheepish ; several of them showed by their disordered dress that there had been an en- counter of more than wits; and the smart young lieutenant [chap. (( You XXXVI.] MRS. MAVERICK IN A LOYAL NEIGHBOURHOOD. 193 furtively wiped away some blood which was trickling down the side of his face. The action did not escape His Excellency. " The next time you shed your blood, sir," he said sternly, "let it be in a cause for which you need not kush." Then his eye fell on Jasper. " A word with you, Colonel Fleming," he said ; and as they went away together, he began to complain passionately of the ill-feeling between State and State which made his task yet more difficult. " To bring such different tempers into harmony is a harder task than Noah had to keep the peace in the ark," he ended ; " and our enemies know it, and lay their account on it ! " CHAPTER XXXVI. MRS. MAVERICK FINDS HERSELF IN A LOYAL NEIGHBOURHOOD. You've raised the storm Will sever us for ever. ISABICLLA, OU THE FaTAL MaRRIAGE. At first, though even at Flatbush there was much to grieve a loyal soul, Mrs. Maverick congratulated herself on the step she had taken. They were not free, even at Flatbush, from alarms and marchings — every now and then Althea would start out of her sleep to hear the tramp of a body of minute-men, marching past from Brooklyn or New Utrecht. Once, the house was searched for weapons, by a person whose only pretensions to a uniform were a cockade and a swagger. Mrs. Maverick fixed her eyes upon him, and regarded him with steady con- tempt all the while he was in her presence, and only refrained from calling him a rebel to his face, because she felt herself answerable for Althea. As for herself, she would have liked nothing better than to be clapped into a rebel dungeon, and thus testify to her principles. But in spite of this person's requisition, it was evident that His Majesty had a good many sympathisers in King's and Queen's Counties. Not only was there an Episcopal Church at Jamaica, but Mr. Burnet, the Presbyterian minister, was a staunch loyalist, and it was a great comfort to Mrs. Maverick to have his opinion on how things were going. VOL. I. O T 194 A GREAT TREASON. [chap. 1*1 I ^' Although it was certuin that the Fleet was on its way from Halifax, and there were nimours that Sir Peter Parker and General Clinton were coming up from the Carolinas, there was a rebellious spirit abroad. Mr. Matthews, the ]Mayor of New York, was audaciously seized at Flatbush, only a day or two before the long-expected Fleet came crowding past the Narrows. Staten Island was immediately occupied ; and not many days afterwards Admiral Howe came from England, and Sir Henry Clinton arrived from the South. The joy occasioned by these arrivals was only slightly damped to the ladies at Flatbush, by the possibility of their finding themselves lodged on a field of battle. But Flatbush could scarcely be said to lie on the way to New York from Staten Island ; and Captain Digby would be sure to see that they received no harm. Jacob Quackenboss, who always seemed to have business at Blazing Star Ferry, had brought them more than one letter from the Captain. Fred congratulated them on not having gone to Halifax — it was, he observed, "a cm'sed cold wintry place, with little to eat, and less to drink " — and expressed him- self very hopefully as to the immediate results of the campaign. "By all accounts," he wrote, "Mr. Washington's army is a mere ragged rout, and is deserting every day. Cheer up, dear sister ; one more brush, and I trust we shall for the future keep our swords for Fj-enchmen. This unnatural rebellion must be nipped in the bud — hang one or two of the leaders, especially S. A s, and then issue a general pardon. Everybody says His Majesty will consent to redress most of their grievances as soon us they lay down their arms." This indiscreet letter was within an ace of falling into the hands of the same rebel Captain, or whatever he might be, who had already searched the house. He was riding by, just as Jacob drove up at the door, and called out to him with an oath not to let him catch him carrying any treasonable correspondence, or it would be the w^orse for him. Jacob, who was handing out some parcels to his wife, merely looked round, and Captain Marrener rode on. Mr. Justice Jones paid the ladies several visits, as soon as he returned from circuit, and would have had them take up their quarters in his house at Fort Neck, but that, as he said, he was convinced he was a particular mark for the rebels' eumity ; and at this moment Mrs. Jones was not at home. They had not seen 1 ( XXXVI.] MRS. MAVERICK IN A LOYAL NEIGHBOURHOOD. 195 the Justice for two or three weeks, when one day he came over from Fort K<^ck, with the news that his wife had at last f;ot home, and intended calling on the ladies in a few days. The Judge — who was a dapper gentleman of five-and-forty or so, with remarkably piercing dark eyes, and brows as sharply arched as the string of a cros'.-bow — was fuller than ever of the misdoings of the rebels in general, and of his own grievances in particular. He had, as he took care to observe, held the Courts as usual up to the very last — for which, and for his well-known loyalty, he had just been summoned to appear before the Committee of the Provincial Congress, and show cause why he should be considered a friend to America. " But I'll see 'em damned first, before I'll obey a rebel summons, and give in to their oppression and tyranny," cries the Judge ; and then begs pardon for for- getting himself, but such con-founded impudence is enough to make Job himself use strong language. The Judge then went on to tell them a long story of Lord Stirling's incivility to Mrs. Jones, when she asked for a pass to return to Fort Neck. The Judge had a fine town-house at Mount Pitt, which he had built himself, but he had no pleasure in it, now that General Lee had built a great redoubt close by, — which, to crown all, was called, if you please, " Jones's Hill Fort!" "As if," cries the Judge, "I was a rebel like themselves !" The Judge's indignation seemed to be about equally divided between the designing demagogues who had instigated the rebellion (the Smiths in particular coming in for his roundest denunciations), and the unprincipled crown -servants who, ac- cording to him, had formed a deliberate plan to ruin both Great Britain and America, in order to enrich themselves. In about a week, he came over again — more peppery than ever. It seemed that on his retiu-n from visiting the ladies, he had found what old Nan was accustomed to call a ^^ posse cotatis" waiting to arrest him for not obeying the summons which had so highly offended him. He had been taken over to the city, detained three days, and then discharged by Mr. Gouverneur Morris — the only one of the Committee who attended — on his parole to appear when called on. " You see me therefore, a prisoner on parole. Ma'am," says the Judge. " A pretty way to treat one of the chief magistrates of New York, for doing his duty ! But what can you expect of fellows that will treat a lady as Washington and Stirling V I, V '■U ^1 \ 196 A GREAT TREASON. [CH\P. did my wife t'other day 1 But they'll dance to another tune, now the Fleet has come ! " The ladies had other mild distractions to enable them to pass the time less wearily. Mr. Burnet of Jamaica sometimes invited them to come and drink a dish of tea with him and his family — an invitation issued sub rosd, as tea still stank in rebel nostrils. On such occasions, he would fetch them and drive them back in his own chaise. It was one day late in July, when the sunshine lay burning hot in the wide dusty street of Jamaica as they drove through, and the boughs of the weeping-ashes hung down like thirsty tongues. They had spent a very agreeable afternoon in looking over Mr. Burnet's collection of Lebrun's plates of the Passions, and drinking some excellent India tea. " I protest, Mr. Burnet," says Mrs. Maverick, " I shall take it very unfriendly, if you don't contrive to smuggle me a package of this tea. Poor Mrs. Quackenboss's is a sorry wash, though she vows 'tis real Bohea — and I do believe she puts in twice as much for me as she ever did for her own drinking. I've told her a hundred times not to stand for the piice — and I'm sure I make our being here well worth her while — but she says 'tis the best she can get, and, I believe, poor soul, thinks I'm fanciful for finding fault with it ! " Upon this Mr. Burnet insisted on presenting Mrs. Maverick there and then with a pound of his own mixture, saying with a twinkle of his eye, he doiibted not he could get more where that came from. As it was not a time for unarmed travellers to be gadding about late at night, Mr. Burnet soon after this had his mare put in. It was a fine warm evening, but a white mist was already rising from the swamps beyond Hempstead. They had got no farther than Betts's tavern (Althea sitting bodkin, with very little room to spare), when it became apparent that there was a commotion in the town. A crowd of people were assembled in front of the tavern, listening to a man dressed in a white linen frock, with a fringe round the neck and arms, and a white feather in his hat. This person was reading a document which he held in one hand, while with the other he emphasised his periods. Althea thought she recognised him as one of the party in the kitchen of the inn at the ferry, the day of her landing. Marrener stood not far off" him. Mr. Burnet, on seeing this, was for turning his horse's head w I « ( XXXVI.] MRS. MAVERICK IN A LOYAL NEIGHBOURHOOD. 197 to go round by another way ; but Captain Marrener ran up and seized the reins, exclaiming, — *' Come on. Doctor, you're just in the nick of time to hear the Glorious Declaration of Independ- ence read ! Oh, we won't hurt the ladies ! But we can't let you sheer off." So saying, he led the chaise up to the tavern door, disregarding all Mr. Burnet's remonstrances. *' Late V he said. " It ain't quite sundown yet — you must stop and see the fireworks. And if you're afraid, I'll take the ladies home — I know where they live." He grinned at Althea as he spoke, and she then perceived that he had a paper stuck in his hat. She saw the words " £10 REWARD," and "His MAJESTTS Commissioners," and was pretty sure it was the new placard just issued, offering a reward fur the person who had taken down the ]\Ianifesto from the church-doors. A number of minute-men, all in their white frocks, were drawn up outside the tavern, with a drummer in front, who beat a tattoo as often as the orator paused in his reading. The occupants of the chaise were compelled to listen to the Declaration, and to hear the shout of triumph with which it was received — the reader leading the liu?zas, waving his hat high in the air. Then, to the beat of drum, and with more shouting, he took the flag which his lieutenant had been holding all this whde, and ripped off the letters which formed the King's name, leaving only the word LIBERTY. After this, the speaker, declaring that his tongue clave to the roof of his mouth, called for a glass ; and on its being brought out to him, observed that he would propose a toast — those who had no glasses could drink it in the spirit. " Do not laugh, gentlemen," said the orator — who, however, unless his appearance belied him, was jovially inclined. " Hear my toast. A cobweb pair of breeches, a hedgehog saddle, a hard-trotting horse, and continual riding, to all the enemies of America ! " This toast was received with roars of laughter and applause, and many not over-friendly glances began to be directed to- wards the chaise. Everybody on the ground had uncovered except Mr. Burnet, who sat quietly in the chaise, from time to time addressing a word of reassurance to the ladies. Althea had drawn her green silk calash closely over her head — her face was flushed, her eyes sparkled with indignation ; but it was Mrs. Maverick who, :iir P. (l 198 A GREAT TREASON. I ! ^n [chap. provoked beyond her patience, called out in a voice which was distinctly heard by every one there, " God save King George the Third ! " The person wiio had read the Declaration started, glanced round him, and then coming quickly up to the chaise, and re- moving his hat for a moment, said determinedly, — " Dr. Burnet, we have had too much of this sort of thing. You have just cried 'God save King George the Third ! ' for your own pleasure ; you must say * God save America ! ' for ours, before you leave this ground." Great was Mr. Burnet's dilemma. True, he had not himself cried, " God save King George !" but it was, of course, impossible to throw the blame on a lady — and, as every one there knew perfectly well which of the party it was who had uttered the obnoxious sentiment, would have been a useless piece of cowardice to boot. He saw that the consequences might be ugly, but his Presbyterian gorge was aroused, and he cried manfully that he would say nothing on compulsion. Mrs. Maverick, however, had instantly rushed to the rescue. " 'Twas I, sir, that said it, and I am ready to stand to it," said the undaunted old lady, flashing on the Captain of the minute-men a pair of eyes that were still almost as bright as Althea's own. " Madam, I am sorry to hear it," returned the Captain. " 'Tis a pity to see courage and spirit wasted in a bad cause. But we all know Dr. Burnet's sentiments, and are determined that he shall for once in his life wish well to his country, or pay the penalty." " We shall only just slip him on a suit of American thick- set with white trimmings," cried a voice at the edge of the crowd. Most of the rest laughed, and pressed closer round the chaise. The mare began to be restive, and plunged a little, but several volunteers promptly went to her head, and quieted her more judiciously than could have been expected — while Althea exclaimed, " Surely, sir, you do not threaten a minister of the Gospel with violence ! " " He was a citizen before he was a minister," replied the Captain of the minute-men, and Marrener added ; " And we shall tar and feather him as a citizen, and not as a minister." I ' 1 XXXVI.] xMRS. MAVERICK IN A LOYAL NEIGHBOURHOOD. 109 " You will have to reckon with me first, though, bifore you do it, Mr. Marrener," said a voice which made Althea start as if she had been shot, — while Mrs. Maverick cried, " Oh, Mr. Fleming, for God's sake, protect us from insult ! " " You may be sure I will do that. Madam," said Jasper, taking off his hat to the ladies — but his eyes never once rested on Althea. He took the reins from Marrener, and asked him sternly if that was the way he served his country ? " We only want him to say, ' God save America ! ' " said Marrener sulkily ; " and I should like to know who you are to prevent it 1 " " I am a Colonel in the Continental army," retiu-ned Jasper ; he wore a dark biue coat, with yellow buttons and scarlet fticiugs, and had a small sword by his side. " Not seen much fighting yet, I reckon," sneered Marrener, who had a grudge against INIr. Burnet, and thought he saw his prey about to escape him. "I was at Bunker's Hill." This reply, quietly as it was made, produced a great effect — of which Jasper took immediate advantage to obtain a promise that no molestation should be oft'ered to Mr. Burnet. But he was obliged to submit to a condition — Mr. Burnet and the ladies must stay and see King George burnt in effigy. " I would save you the annoyance if I could," said Jasper in a low voice to Mrs. Maverick ; " but they are very angiy with Mr. Burnet, as the only loyalist Presby- terian on Long Island, and 'tis best to give in to them in a small matter." " That's very fine, Mr. Fleming, I protest ! " cried the old lady, indiscreetly loud. "You have just rescued us from an unpleasant predicament, and I don't mean to quarrel with you ; but I'd have you to know that 'tis not so small a matter to a loyal subject to be forced to stand by and see a gross affront offered to His Majesty ! " "You can avoid it, Madam, by letting Mr. Burnet say, * God save America ! ' " observed Jasper maliciously. And Mr, Biurnet gravely replied that, knowing what was meant by it, 'twould be against his conscience to do so. The bonfire was prepared under a gibbet, from which hung a rude effigy which had been wrapped in the Union. Its face was black, and resembled rather the countenance of one of Dunmore's recruits than the homely featiu-es of Farmer George, \f. V I,.'' 'si f 200 A GREAT TRKASOX. [chap. % -i. but that a profane caricature of His Majesty's sacred ijersoii was iuteuded, could not be doubted. " What seem'tl its head The likeness of a kingly crown had on." But the crown was of wood, and stuck with feathers instead of rubies. Along with it on the gibbet, gently flapping in the evening breeze against this travesty of a diadem, hung the tattered bunting just torn from the flag of Liberty. The crowd gathered round in silence, as light was set to the bon- fire. Jasper stood on one side of the chaise, while Marrener at the mare's head seemed resolved that the involuntary spectators of the performance should have a good place whence to view it. "Wa'al, Miss Digby, I reely shouldn't have expected to find you a-looking' on at a game o' this sort, that I shouldn't, reely now," says Captain Ward, coming up unperceived behind the chaise. " I happened to be passin' through Jamaica this evenin' — but this is an altogether unexpected pleasure." "I am not here with my good-will," says Althea; while the Captain, seeing Colonel Fleming, whispers something in his ear — at which Althea fancies he looks graver than before. When the gunpowder under His Majesty's arms had blown up, and the royal effigies lay a shapeless and blackened mass in the glowing heat of the fire, Mr. Marrener professed himself satisfied, made a rough apology to Colonel Fleming, and offered to conduct Mr. Burnet safe back to his own house — for Jasper had insisted on himself seeing the ladies home. As the chaise was constructed to carry only two (though with a little squeezing it constantly carried three). Captain Ward took his leave, and said he would wait at Betts's tavern for Colonel Fleming. This he said in a significant tone which went to Althea's heart, as showing but too plainly how actively Jasper was engaged in rebellion. Jasper scarcely spoke a word on the way. He drove so fast, that the minister's well-fed mare submitted out of sheer astonishment. Althea thought he was in haste to have the drive over, and would have died sooner than beg him to go slower — while Mrs. Maverick made no remonstrance, only pray- ing to be once safely housed under her own gables. So much in haste was Jasper, that he was only persuaded to come indoors, on the score that Mr. Burnet's mare was old, I l« xxxvr.] MRS. MAVERICK IN A LOYAL NEIGIIIJOURIIOOD. 201 juid ought to rest half an hour before going back to Jamaica ; and so much flurried was Mrs. Maverick, that she all but oft'ercd Colonel Fleming some of that excellent tea which had been weighing down her pocket for the last three hours. He refused all refreshment, and, it must be honestly owned, l)e- haved altogether in a very uncomfortable manner. " Though, to be sure," said Mrs. Maverick afterwards, in excuse for him, "I don't know what he could have talked about, with- out bringing up some sore subject or other: and I think he felt it." Mrs. Quackenboss had put candles in the parlour — a room whose pervading perfume was beeswax and turpentine, and which stood the whole year swept and garnished, in eternal expectation of guests who never came. In this inhospitable apartment Jasper and Althea were left alone for a few minutes, while Mrs. Maverick went out to speak to Mrs. Quackenboss. As Jasper stood near the table, his head a little bent, his right hand resting on the table, and his left (holding his cocked hat, which bore the symbol of rebellion) resting on his hip, Althea sat watching him, torn by a conflict of feelings which she herself did not, or would not, understand. His very dress was a kind of high-water mark, to show how far things had gone. And there was a change in him which she could not define to herself, but which gave her a maddening desire to provoke him to some such display of weakness as she had occasionally goaded him into in Boston. She could have cried with rage— at him, but also at herself. At last, something — perhaps the fear of her cousin's return —got the better of her pride, and she said sharply,—" Have you sworn not to speak to me, Mr. Fleming'? Are you aware that you have stood there for ten minutes, without condescending to notice my presence by so much as a single word ? " He started. " Have I not spoke to you ? " he said in great confusion. " I beg a thousand pardons — indeed 'twas not intentional — I was not conscious that I had not done so." " You had merely forgot me, in thinking of more important matters," she said sarcastically. " What wonder, when you wear that uniform ? And, after all, what can you have to say tome?" " Good God ! " he exclaimed, turning towards her with iH l I; r 202 A GRKAT TRKASON. [(HAP. I.' hi :P. > I :■' i ^■h \ n • 1 ". sudden passion. " What have I done to yuii, that you should delight to torture me thus 1 " Althea turned pale, but before she could reply, Mrs, Maverick came bustling in, with a cup of hot wine. " There, J\Ir. Fleming," she said, " this will keep the fog out of your throat, this damp evening. I was a mother to you so long that I can't quite give over now ; though, indeed, 'tis more than you deserve, as long as you wear that by your side." She pointed to his sword as she spoke — but she looked at him very kindly as she thus rebuked him. " 'Tis most true. Madam, that your kindness far exceeds my deserts," said Jasper, taking the cup. Then, as he raised it to his lips, he looked at Mrs. Maverick and said, smiling, " For this, and all the many kindnesses I have unworthily received at your hands, Madam, pray believe that you have my most heart-felt thanks." But, though Jasper smiled, his face was very pale, and Althea thought his brow was contracted as if by bodily pain. He kissed Mrs. Maverick's hand, and had begim to say, " May we " when he checked himself, drank off the rest of the wine, and, setting down the cup, said hurriedly to Mrs. Maverick that he was exceedingly sorry he had not been able to spare them the annoyance to which they had been subjected, but party-feeling was so bitter that he had not even expected to get them off as easily as he had done — Marrener could have made it very unpleasant if he had chosen. " Of course, Mr. Fleming, I saw very well 'twas your say- ing you was at Bunker's Hill got us off," said Mrs. Maverick. " They was all turned in a moment ; and very grieved it made me, to see such a spirit in them." " I was obliged to say it," returned Jasper, a little embar- rassed. " Believe me, 'twas not intended as a boast, but merely to shut Marrener's mouth, and make them more inclined to listen to me." Without giving Mrs. Maverick time to reply, Jasper begged to be excused for taking his leave. He kissed Althea's hand, desired her to remember him very kindly to Captain Digby, and in a few minutes was rattling along the dark road towards Jamaica, at such a pace that two or three people who wished to speak with Dominie Van Zinder, thought it must be he, and ran out to stop the chaise. XXXVIT.] CONFUSED NOISES. 208 CHAPTER XXXVII. CONFUSED NOISES. What stratagems, how fell, how butcherly, Erroneous, mutinous, anil unnatural, This deadly quarrel daily dotli beget ! Third Part oi' Kincj Henry VI. That sacrilegious insult offered to the divinity which hedges Kings, was not left long unavenged. Jacobus Quackenboss (who in some mysterious manner was evidently in communica- tion with the Tories, though not even to Mrs. Maverick would he admit the fact) brought several more letters for Althea from her brother. These, though necessarily very guarded, prepared her for what was to happen. Meanwhile, the rebels were pre- paring on their part for a desperate resistance ; and many of the leading Tories — among them Mr. Justice Jones — had been seized and arraigned before a Board of rebel oflBcers, and ordered to be sent away, and kept away, till the battle should have been fought. It was known long before the 22d of August, that New York would be attacked from Long Island, and on that day a large British force landed near New Utrecht. No one at Flat- bush slept much that night. At intervals, the reports of distant musketry awoke those who had fallen into an uneasy slumber; and early next morning, when Mrs. Maverick and Althea came downstairs, they found Mrs. Quackenboss busy tying bits of red bunting to the gates and palings, and even to the nearest trees. " I'm sure I'm truly glad to see that colour, Mrs. Quacken- boss," said Mrs. Maverick, coming out into the narrow strip of garden, where late-flowering roses shed sweetness; "but it seems dreadful too — it reminds me of the Destroying Angel passing by." By noon, a whole legion of Destroying Angels swarmed into Flatbush, in the shape of a detachment of Eari Cornwallis's reserve. The farm lay temptingly on the ro^iU, and the house was presently filled with thirsty light - infantry, demanding refreshment. To them enter Mrs. Maverick — arrayed in her stiffest brocade, with a kerchief and apron of the finest India muslin, and leaning on her ivory -handled crutch -stick — and desires to know which is the officer in command ? \'\ t I n: H( ( 1 i ] i I 204 A GREAT TREASON. I 1 I i A I [chap. " This is a loyal house, sir, as you have doubtless per- ceived," she says with iufinite dignity. " I have already given orders for you to be served with the best the house affords — 'tis less than I could have wished, but my tenant assured me 'twould be impossible to make greater preparations, without the certainty of their being instantly seized upon by the rebels. I hav(! only to add, sir, that we place ourselves under your pro- tection ; and — though I'm sure 'tis unnecessary — I may inform you that I am cousin to His late Excellency, Governor Hutchin- son, and that the young lady with me is sister to Captain Digby, now serving in your army." To this the officer replied that the ladies might be confident the utmost possible respect should be shown them, and was in the middle of a most polite apology for the inconvenience which he was unwillingly causing them, when Captain Digby himself came hurrying in, and appeared greatly relieved at finding all well. The lower part of the house being by this time crammed with soldiers, the Captain retired to embrace his sister and Mrs. Maverick on the upper landing, where a few hasty questions and answers were exchanged. Fred was looking bronzed and hearty. He had filled out, too, a little — in spite of the poor fare at Halifax — and was in excellent spirits. " In a week at latest, we shall be in New York," he said, as he bade them farewell. For several days after this, the lonely farmhouse was never quiet. There was marcliing and counter-marching. Mounted officers galloped along, leaving clouds of dust behind them. Artilleiy Imnbered past, and Jacob Quackenboss's fat horses found themselves harnessed to a gun-carriage, and made to pull harder than they had ever done before during the whole course of their sleek lives. There was firing in the woods — pretty hot sometimes ; and a few wounded men were brought in, whom Mrs. Maverick and Althea tended as well as they could, till the surgeon came. And then one night, a rumour spread that the rebels were to be attacked next morning. By this time, the whole British army had passed over to Newtown, and Flatbush was left like the sands when the tide is down. The slip of garden was trampled sadly, and all Mrs. Quackenboss's tulip-bulbs were ruined; but old Nan did not much afflict herself on these accounts. Her resentment, bc/n loud and deep, was directed against the Hessians — who, on their way to encamp in the village, had haltod long enough at [chap. XXXVII.] COIs'FUSED NOISES, 206 the farm to convey her whole remaining store of pickled beef, and had then and there guzzled all her buttermilk. The said buttermilk would have been regarded in less thrifty districts as partaking of the character of hog-wash ; but here it was being reserved to make mush for supper, s the chilly autumn evenings came on ; and great was the wrath with which old Nan beheld the masterful Hessians emptying her churn. She went so far as to call them " Injun-niggers " — an epithet which Nan, herself a cross between those two races, reserved for the darkest shade of criminal. " A pack o' yaller varments ! " she screamed, wringing her skinny hands in rage and g)-ief " Eb'ry drop.o' dat mush gone ! Ef on'y master'd a bin here ! He'd a sent tiie hull posse cotatis about their business ! " In saying this, however, old Nan idealised that pacific Dutchman — who had for the last year or so devoted too much thought to the preserving a whole skin to his body, to care to risk that inestimable blessing for a churnful of buttermilk. A half-foolish fellow named Anthony, who lived at Hemp- stead, brought the first tidings of the battle. He came in a little after noon, very dusty and footsore, and told a long story of how he had guided the British, the night before, across a pass in the hills by Jamaica — left unguarded by old Putnam, whom Greene's illness had placed in command. Anthony had long been suspected by the Whigs of being a Tory agent, and had more than once only saved himself from unpleasant con- sequences by playing the fool. He was an idle good-for-nothing fellow, who never did anything but fight cocks and loiter about, but many believed he had more wit than he chose to own. This not very trustworthy authority said further that the rebels were routed, and had fled in confusion to their lines — hundreds, he added, had been drowned in trying to pass Gowanus Creek. Anthony's account was soon confirmed — so far, at least, as related to the result of the day. The rebels were totally defeated, three thousand of them killed or taken, and the Mary- landers in particular almost cut to pieces ; and three Generals made prisoners. Captain Digby sent a message to say that he was safe and well; and, as Mrs. Maverick observed, nothing was wanting to complete one's satisfaction but to know that Mr. Washington himself was a prisoner, and that poor Mr. Fleming was unhurt— since, whatever his fiiults, she should be sorry to seo her old friend's son perish miserably. 206 A GREAT TREASON. [chap. It may have been this remark of her cousin's, which caused Althea to dream that niglit, that Jasper Fleming was brought out to be hanged in front of the State House in Boston. Althea seemed in her dream to be standing at the window of Mrs. Maverick's drawing-room in King Street — and with the odd slowness of perception common in dreams, had been idly watch- ing the gallows for some time before she knew what it was. Suddenly, a file of soldiers came up the street with Jasper, his arms bound, and bare-headed. She thought he saw her, and stopped, — and with the anguish of the recognition she awoke. But the days which followed brought no news of Jasper. Mr. Washington, seeing that things were desperate, very cleverly slipped across with his army to New York, thus escaping immediate destruction. A few days afterwards, the British commander made another attempt at a compromise. Dr. Franklin and Mr. Adams waited on His Majesty's Commissioners on Staten Island ; but finding that Lord Howe — who received his old friend the Doctor with much kindness — was only empowered to pardon on a full submission, they declined his overtures, and the interview had no other result than the exchange of the captive Generals. A few days after this, the rebels retired from New York, and the British army immediately entered it. No day passed without the sounds and alarms of war. Wild rumours of fresh disaster to the rebels spread — almost, as it seemed, on the wings of the wind. Some of these, however, were brought to Flatbuhi. by a more visible Mercury, in the shape of Anthony. Rumour "painted full of tongues" was not more agog with news t^anhe. The rebels were seized with panic,- — the women and children had run shiieking about the streets of New York, when they saw the British men-of-war pass up the East River. And two whole brigades had run away at Bloomingdale on the 15th, without firing a shot, leaving General Washington alone — who, it was said, was so transported with rage and despair at their dastardly behaviour, that if two of his officers had not seized his bridle and forced him to retire, he would have rushed on the enemy, and must inevitably have been taken or slain. After narrating these and other stories, and freely partaking of such good things as old Nan had contrived to conceal from the Hessians, Anthony would take his departure, to retail his news at the next farmhouse — there to receive a like reward. Jacob Quackenboss spent these days in intermittent at- [chap. lich caused IS brought n Boston, window of th the odd ily watch- at it was. ''asper, his her, and s awoke. )f Jasper, ate, very ork, thus rards, the ise. Dr. Qissioners » received was only lined his than the )w York, y passed of fresh he wings light to Lnthony. og with i women w York, t River. ! on the •n alone spair at lad not rushed lain, rtaking rom the s news 3Ut at- XXXVII.] CONFUSED NOISES. 207 tempts to learn what had become of his horses, for which he had received a memorandum, signed by the officer with whom Mrs. Maverick had had those passages of civility. His wife and old Nan remonstrated against being left with only the old man and the boy to defend them; but Jacob, with much reason, replied that three would be of no more use than two against a regiment, and that if he once lost trace of the horses he might never see them again. Old Nan next entreated him, when he saw the King's General, to tell him about the pickled beef and the buttermilk, and to "give him some hard plums" — to which advice Jacob listened with an impassive countenance, being deeply penetrated with the conviction that a still tongue not only makes a wise head, but is Ukely to pre- serve that head from being broken. He soon after set off on the search for his horses — observing, as he stepped across his threshold, that while the Hessian was there, no one would trouble them. The Hessian was one of the men who had been brought in wounded before the battle. He was so badly hurt, that when Mrs. Maverick asked if it would do him harm to move him, the surgeon had replied that it would most likely be his death — not that there was much hope of him in any case. " Then you shall not move him ! " cried the old lady ; and they had kept him ever since, the three women taking it in turns to sit up with him. It was a singular and pathetic • situation. The poor young fellow — he seemed to be only three or four-and- twenty — could speak no English, and communication was carried on by signs and by a few Low -Dutch words which Yonichy knew. Althea had proposed sending for one of the Dutch pastors ; and Dominie Van Zinder happening to drive by soon after, she ran out, and begged him to step up and see the wounded man. The pastor was a lean and shrivelled little man, with long silver locks under a sugar-loaf hat, like a portrait of Richard Baxter. He climbed down from his chaise, tied his horse's reins to the gate-post, and followed Althea upstairs. The sick man's eyes turned anxiously towards him, and a flush came over his face. " Leave us," said the Dominie, taking the chair from which Yonichy had risen. He was a quaint figure, as he sat there, still wearing his high-pointed hat — his lean face, full of vigour and intentness, contrasting strangely with the large frame and •.J If i % ■I ,, ( \[ 208 A GREAT TREASON. [chap. heavy countenance of the man whose life was so fast ebbing away. " We understood each other a little," said the Dominie when he came out — the women had heard him praying — " and I have here the address of his ftither. I will come again to-morrow." But that evening, a change came on, and it was evident the poor fellow could not last many hours. It was Althea's turn to sit up, and she insisted on taking it, and on sending her aunt and Mrs. Quackenboss to bed. There was nothing to be done, but he could not be left to die alone. He lay quite still — indeed he had sunk into the stupor preceding death — only now and then murmuring a name which sounded like " Leonora." A little after midnight he opened his eyes, and fixing them on Althea, said some words which she knew to be thanks. "All very gut," said the poor fellow, and then he pointed upwards — as if he would say that God must thank them, since he could not. And then he closed his eyes, and spoke no more. But when Althea wiped the tears out of her own eyes, she noticed a strange red glow in the room, and going to the win- dow, saw that the sky was full of a lurid light — which instantly reminded her of the awful spectacle she had beheld at Ogle- thorpe, two years before. It brightened and brightened — rising and falling, and then rising higher — until the whole sky was illuminated. It was in the direction of New York, and she remembered that Anthony had said the rebels meant to burn the city. The red glare continued all night, and when the dawn rose a heavy pall of smoke hung where it had been. By that time the poor young Hessian lay still — he had drawn his last breath so quietly that Althea did not know it for some minutes. The next day was Sunday, and after the afternoon service. Pastor Van Zinder (as Pastor Rubel was that day at Jamaica) buried poor Heinrich Welder — for that was the young Hessian soldier's name — in the graveyard at Flatbush. Mrs. Maverick and Althea attended the funeral. This Mrs. Maver- ick considered to be a mark of respect due to a young man who bad fallen in the royal cause, whether he were a gentlemen or iio ; but she had woven a little romance, founded on the poor fellow's decent behaviour, that he had run away to enlist, and was above the rank of a common soldier. >, ( [chap. XXXVII.] CONFUSED XOISES. 209 she The Dominie drove the ladies back as far as where the road to Flatbush runs into that which leads to Flatlauds — and then, as all was quiet, and he had a sick parishioner to visit, he set them down, and drove on his way. They found Anthony sitting in the kitchen at a great plate of broken victuals, while Yonichy stood listening to him, with Matilda holding on by her apron, and old Nan, with her arms akimbo, calling some persons unknown, "yaller varments." Anthony, it seemed, had just come from New York, and had brought terrible news. Half the city had been burned down on Friday night ; he had himself seen the flames come leaping and roaring up both sides of Broadway like fiery horses, and climbing the steeples of Trinity Church. Dr. Inghs had but just saved St. Paul's, and his own Church of Trinity was burned to the ground. Anthony made his hearers' flesh creep, by his description of how he had seen suspected persons seized by the soldiers, and flung into the flames, and a man hanged on a tavern sign-post in Roosivelt Street. " An' sarve 'em right, tarnation varments ! " cried old Nan. But Anthony had kept his most thrilling narrative until the ladies should return. Yesterday morning, very early, a spy had been caught at Mother Chich's, at The Cedars, near Hun- tington, and this morning he was hanged just by the Barracks in the old graveyard. Anthony had seen him brought out from the Provost, dressed in a white jacket and cap, trimmed with black, with his coflin carried beside him, and the Provost- Marshal Cunningham walking behind, and the black hangman carrying the rope. A handsome fellow — tall and fair, and blue- eyed, Anthony said, and quite young. It was said that he was Captain Nathan Hale, who last May took the sloop under the very nose of the Asia. Anthony had thrust his way through the crowd, and seen and heard all — or so he declared. The rebel died game, and said he was only sorry he had only one life to lose for his country. As Anthony was returning, he had heard that Captain Hale had been taken in consequence of in- formation given by his own cousin — who saw him waiting at Mother Chich's for a boat, and suspected he was on a spy's errand. His boots were full of plans of the British works, all written in Latin — they said he had taught school at New Lon- don, before the rebellion broke out. Now that the rebels were put to flight, Anthony called it the rebellion. This story filled Althea with horror — she involuntarily con- VOL. I. P 4 !< i )' hi I ft! if! r* I t 'U ■ \ 210 A GREAT TREASON. [chap. nected it with her dream. Anthony was positive as to the extreme youth of the spy ; twenty-one at the most was as much as he couid be — but when Anthony said he had blue eyes, Althea's blood had run cold. CHAPTER XXXVIII. in THE RETURN FROM GLORY. The rebels had appealed to Heaven ; but so far Heaven seemed to favour the cause of King George, and those strong bat- talions in which alone General Lee declared he put his trust. If no such signal disaster as the defeat on Long Island be- fell the rebel arms in the North, they had slowly lost all the ground they had gained ; and by the time the fire in New York was well extinguished. Sir Guy Carleton had entirely changed the face of affairs in Canada. With an army dispirited by repulse and very ill found, and himself slowly recovering from a severe and painful wound, Benedict Arnold had maintained his position all through the spring, and kept up the blockade of Quebec. Through the clear wintry air, he could see the sentinel pacing the snow- covered ramparts, and the British standard drooping idly in the frosty stillness against the flagstaff, wh'"^ the tin steeples of the town twinkled against the deep blue Canadian sky. But all attempts to take the town failed, so constant was the vigil- ance of the besieged — some of the British officers sleeping in their clothes for eighty nights together — and Cape Diamond echoed to no later victor's tread. Governor Carleton had added conciliation to valour and vigilance, and had thereby done what no valour or yigilance could have availed to accomplish — he had turned the heart of Canada to the British cause. The American army, which had expected to be welcomed as a deliverer, saw itself regarded as an invader, and its position was rapidly be- coming untenable. Noel Branxholm had by this time had ample opportunities of reflecting on the caprices of Fortune. He had seen the best laid plans fail, the most dauntless valour and the most untiring efforts seemingly thrown away. For all this even his impatient spirit might have found consolation, in remembering how many times in the world's history desperate causes have suddenly [chap. 5 to the as much lue eyes, XXXVIII.] THE RETURN FROM GLORY. 211 ti seemed ong bat- lis trust, iland be- t all the ew York changed und, and [ wound, ough the 5ugh the he snow- lly in the eeples of LJ. But the vigil- jeping in Diamond ad added one what — he had A.merican erer, saw pidly be- )rtunities the best : untiring mpatient ow many suddenly recovered themselves. But his young inexperience had been put to a harder trial still. It would seem but natural that such brilliant exploits and indefatigable zeal as Arnold's should liave been recognised by Congress. But from the beginning ho had been singularly unfortunate. The anticipation by Ethan Allen of his scheme for the surprise of Ticonderoga was prophetic of the fate which awaited him ; he was, it seemed, destined always to see others reap his hard-won laurels. For all thanks, a Commission had been sent, to put him virtually on his trial ; and when he had taken or assisted in taking every post on the Lakes, he had been superseded and recalled. In the second expedition to Canada, he was at first more fortunate — although the great attempt fiiiled. But almost as soon as he was able to mount his horse, his evil star once more pursued him. Colonel Hazen's refusal to take charge of the goods seized at Montreal (under instructions from a Commission) had involved him in endless vexations ; and he had also had a difterence, ending in a serious quarrel, with Lieutenant-Colonel Brown, about the plundering of the officers' baggage taken at Sorel. Brown had been at the capture of Ticonderoga, and was a partisan of Colonel Allen's, and made no attempt to hide that he was General Arnold's enemy. In one of the last days at Montreal, and when the abandon- ment of Canada was already decided on, Arnold sent for his young Captain, to give him some last orders. Noel found him in a bitter mood. He had evidently been writing a letter — and judging from the blots which disfigured his usually clear and firm handwriting, had dashed it off in hot haste. He observed Noel's glance, and said ironically, — " I have received another of Colonel Brown's favor-rn — so much hatred is enough to turn a man's head. He has never forgiven me for having been at the taking of Ticonderoga. He writes to assure me that he has friends in Congress, who will see that my deeds are brought to the light of day. I've told him that in that case I shall be much beholden to him." "Is it about the goods Colonel Hazen left at Chamblay, sir?" asked Noel. "Surely when the facts are brought before Congress " " By that time, so much mud will have been thrown at mo that some of it will stick," retiu-ned the General. " Colonel Brown takes the pains to inform me that I have enemies — a V, I ii^ ' f I :; , 212 A GREAT TRF.ASON. [chap. conclusion I had arrived at some time since. Hazen leaves the goods on the banks of the river to be stole by the first-comers, and the Commission demands my arrest ! " " But they reckoned without their host, sir — General Gates was too much of a soldier to listen to them, " interposed Noel. Arnold laughed. " He has been very civil to me," he said, "so we will let his qualities pass — he is another Lee, without Lee's brutal animal courage. Time will show which is most mischievous — the bully braggart or the specious braggart. Meanwhile, they may traduce me, but I will be the last man to leave Canada, as I was the first to enter it." The General kept his word. He made a masterly retreat to St. John's — never more than a day's march ahead of the British forces — and embarked all his men without confusion. Captain Branxholm's company was among the last to embark — he had begged this favour, and the General, after looking steadily at him for a moment, as his manner was when he v/as pleased, had granted it with a smile which flashed across his dark face like a ray of sunshine over a gloomy landscape. Noel woidd have led a forlorn-hope to win one of those stern smiles. It happened thus, that when the last boat was ready to push off and follow the others — already pulling steadily across the fast darkening waters of Lake Champlain — the General, who was mounted, saw Captain Branxholm standing close to the water's edge. " There's just time to reconnoitre their advance-guard," he said, and turned his horse's head inland ; Noel leaped on the wretched nag he had been riding, and followed him. The June evening was closing in, but gleams of fire could be seen flashing among the distant trees, and once they heard a bugle sounded. " There they come," said the General, reining in his horse. " No one can say we fled like the wicked, when no man pursued ! Might I but once lead a charge against them, with Morgan and his men behind me, I woidd be well content to leave my body on the field ! " He sat for a moment perfectly still on his horse, amidst the silence of evening, which during those moments even the advancing wave of war did not break. Then a bugle was winded in the woods, and Arnold, shaking off the reverie he had fallen into and exclaiming, — "To everything there is a time and a season, says King Solomon. This is the hour for running ^ [CIIAP. eaves the it-comers, ral Gates eel Noel. ' he said, , without I is most braggart. !t man to retreat to 10 British Captain — he had ;eadily at pleased, dark face )el -would s. as ready steadily ain — the standing uard," he id on the I could be '■ heard a liis horse, pursued ! >rgan and my body his horse, ents even )ugle was ie he had time and • running XXXIX.] GREEK JOINS GREEK. 218 away ;" set spurs to his horse, and galloped back to the shore — but not till Noel had seen three or four horsemen leave the covert of the woods, and start in pursuit. Arrived at the beach, where the boat waited, Arnold dis- mounted, and began hastily to take off his horse's saddle and bridle. " No Britisher shall ride him," he said. " 'Tis a pity — but 'twere a greater pity to let so good a horse be pressed into a bad cause." As he spoke, he threw the saddle and bridle into Noel's arms, and ordered a soldier who stood waiting to shoot the horse. "Behind the shoulder," he said. "Do not put the poor beast to tortiu-e." "'Twas a merciful death, at least," he muttered, as the horse rolled over with one convulsive quiver. " And no ,v we have not a moment to lose ! " Noel flung the saddle into the boat, and leapt in himself, in obedience to a gesture of the General's. "I must be the last!" cried Arnold, motioning the soldier to precede him. Then pushing the boat off with his own hands, he too leapt in. " Pull hard, men," he said, bending his eyes intently toward the land. As they pulled from shore, Noel fancied he heard the beat of drum from time to time, but the wind was on their quarter, and the rowers were pulling hard, and soon all sounds from the land died away. No one spoke ; the click of the oars in the rowlocks kept measured time, and here and there a star, unclosing like a waking eye, gleamed pale above the northern mountain -tops. But the General never moved. He sat, hour after hour, his left arm resting on the gunwale, supporting his chin with his hand, and his sword across his knees — looking forward into the darkness. CHAPTER XXXIX. GREEK JOINS GEEEK. The retreat from Canada had not been decided on a day too soon. Sir Guy Carleton was by this time ready to attack the Provincials by water, as well as by land. He had provided himself with a little flotilla of vessels which could be taken to fn ; ] 214 A GREAT TREASON. [OHAP. I pieces, and thus easily carried overland when necessary. Witli these, he hoped to command the Canadian waters, and work his way down to Ticonderoga and Albany, there to form a junction with the King's troops in New York, and thus isolate New England. To oppose him. General Arnold had early in the summer obtained permission to form a naval armament. He had thrown himself into the work with his usual zeal ; but he was obliged to make his own ships for the most part, and though he worked incessantly, and urged on his men to the utmost, he could not equal Carletou's fleet, and his own flotilla seemed destined to serve only to convey his men across the waters of Lake Cliamplain and Lake George, on their retreat from Canada. With his motley civ^w of landsmen he dared not oppose Carleton's tried seamen in open water, so when he knew the enemy was approaching, he anchored under Valcour Island — disposing his line of battle so that, if discovered, he could only be attacked in front. Early on the morning of the 11th of October, the British squadron, with their battle-flags flying, rounded Cumberland Head, coming up with a fair wind. As they made the southern point of the island, the large ships fell behind, and Arnold instantly attacked the smaller vessels. But the odds were too great, and he was gradually pushed back. The unskilled crew ran the Royal Savage aground, and Arnold was oblig'^d to go on board the Congress. By noon the action was general. Carleton had twice the number of fighting ships, and was more than twice as heavy in metal as his enemy — but that enemy was made of the same stubborn stuff as himself, and did not stay to count his guns. Besides the fire from the ships, an incessant blaze of rifles was kept up by the Indians posted in the covert of the forests on the island and the mainland ; but their fire did little harm, thanks to the fascines which Arnold had attached to his ships' sides. He pointed the guns himself; he seemed to be every- where at once — directing, encouraging, repulsing attempts to board — while the conflict grew hotter and hotter as the day wore on, and the cannonade was heard as far away as Crown Point. The Congress had been hulled twelve times, and had received seven shots between wind and water j she reeled and staggered with the recoil of her own guns, and seemed as though she would settle down. Her mainmast was twice [chap. r. With work his junction ate New summer d thrown s obliged e worked ould not 1 to serve bamplain ^ith his n's tried smy was )sing his acked in ! British nberland southern . Arnold were too ed crew d to go vice the IS heavy le same lis guns, iies was rests on harm, s ships' e every- npts to the day Crown ,nd had led and med as twice I r XXXIX.] OREKK JOINS GREKK. 215 struck, and her rigging cut to pieces ; but still Arnold refused to abandon her. At last, night came on, and the British commander with- drew a little — but only, as Arnold presently ascertained, to post his fleet across the only channel whereby the Provincials could escape. " He thinks he has got us," said Arnold, looking round on the handful of officers he had called to a council. No one spoke. The Philadelphia had just sunk, and the Washington was every moment expected to follow her example. But when Arnold said abruptly, — " Gentlemen, the Philadelphia is sunk, the Royal Savage was abandoned this morning, and the Congress is as you see her. We have lost a considerable number in killed and wounded. We have spent three-quarters of our ammunition, and the enemy is greatly our superior in both ships and men. What do you say?" It was Noel who — seeing the General's eye resting on him — ventured to reply, '• I suppose, sir, we must break through." " Yes," said the General slowly, looking at the two Colonels who stood beside him. " I suppose that is all we can do." It was a hazy night, but a fair wind had spnmg up from the north after sundown. Every vessel put out her lights, leaving only a single signal-lantern in her stern, to guide the ship that followed her. As soon as the darkness of night had fairly come on, one vessel after another glided away silently before the wind. General Arnold standing in the stern of the Congress^ the last of the procession, with his hand laid heavily on Noel's shoulder, watched the lights of the British squadron. In the intense stillness Noel could hear each breath the General drew ; and as often as a rope creaked, or a sail flapped, or the slightest movement was heard below, he felt his shoulder clutched more firmly. Noel had time to think of many things, as they glided along over the waters rippled by the night wind. Long after they had slid past the shadowy outline of the last of the enemy's vessels, and their lessening lights gleamed low on the lake like will-o'-the-wisps, he kept his watch by his General's side, and wondered where Althea was that night, and thought — " At least, she cannot despise me now — and if she hears I have found a soldier's death, she will perhaps permit herself to shed one tear for the rebel who loved her so well." i ' i 216 A GREAT TREASON. [chap. ; f t h I 1 f .;!■ i r' At Schuylcr'ti Island, twelve miles up tlie lake, tlie fugitive flotilla lay-to, to mend the sails of tlie Washington^ and repair the most pressing damages. With their utmost diligence, they could not get away till the afternoon — and then the wind dropped, and presently veered round to the south. All that night, they beat up with sails and oars against the wind, but they had by morning got no farther than Split Rock ; and as the sun broke through the fog, the Provincials saw the whole British fleet with every sail set, crowding down on them. But even in this terrible predicament General Arnold did not despair. He ordered those vessels which had suffered least to press on under all sail towards Crown Point ; while he, with the Congress, the Washington, and a few gondolas, held the enemy in check, and gained precious time. The Washing- ton struck soon after the British opened their fire, but Arnold fought on in the crippled Congress — now almost a wreck. He was attacked by three schooners on his bow, one on his broad- side, and two under his stern, all within musket-shot, but he showed his teeth to such effect that for five hours he held them all at bay, continually forcing his way nearer and nearer to the shore. The smoke of battle hung dense and black over the blue waters of the lake, and the artillery rolled echoing along the mountain sides which shut it in ; but amidst the smoke the thirteen stripes still flew bravely from the Congress — whose riddled hull and torn rigging bore her witness that she had not shunned the thick of the fray. There is nothing like it in history, but Richard Grenvil's last fight. In the midst of that furious conflict, when for a moment the battle paused, Noel found himself close beside his beloved leader — from whose head he had more than once been so happy as to divert an enemy's sabre. " This ; :> warm work," says Arnold, with his grim smile, his dark face purple, and the veins on his forehead standing out like cords. " If we come alive out of this, they will scarce say again we are afraid to show fight ! To be sure, though, we could hardly run away if we would." "If we come alive out of this, sir," says Noel, all his own hot young blood in his face, " so help me Heaven, I will never fight under any General but you ! " The General's right hand held his sword — he laid his left on Noel's shoulder, and said, still smiling, — "Thou art a good lad, and deserving of a General more fortunate than I seem to be." \ I [OHAl', XL.] A HAPLESS LOVER. 217 " Fortune favours the brave ! " cried Noel — and then the battle joined again. This time, Arnold broke through, fighting to the last. Tiiere was a little creek on the cast side of the channel, and into this he ran the Congress and the four gondolas which had remained with him. He made the marines wade ashore — then, protected by the fire from their muskets, he set fire to his ship, standing by her till the flames had taken hold. And so he left her, with her flag still flying defiantly amidst the flames, and, leaping from her bow to the beach, was the last to land. That same evening, escaping an Indian ambush set for them, the retreating Provincials reached Crown Point, and pushing on, were at Ticonderoga next morning, where General Gates received them joyfully. CHAPTER XL. A HAPLESS LOVER. 'Tis glory only with her potent ray Can chase the clouds that darken all his way. Anna Seward's Monody. Not long after New York was occupied, Mrs. Maverick and Miss Digby removed into the city, to a respectable lodging which Fred had found for them in the Bowery Lane ; and although Mrs. Maverick professed to be for ever expecting that the rebels would set fire to New York again, they were very much more comfortable than they had been since they left Boston, and were certainly safer than they would have been on Long Island. The British occupation was far from rendering Long Island a desirable place of abode. What with rebel raids and Tory escapades, it was very insecure ; and Mr. Burnet wrote to Mrs. Maverick, that he had but just been in time to stop a party of ingenious loyalist youths from sawing off his steeple, and was in daily expectation of being kidnapped by the rebels. " Thus am I," wrote the worthy divine, " between two fires — or, like the ancient Britons, tossed between the sea and the barbarians." New York itself, however, was not a cheerful place at this time. The Broadway was still encumbered with ruined and deserted houses. Trinity Church was a blackened heap. The 1] .1' ■ ^ I I I I' : :^ I l 218 A GREAT TREASON. [chap. soldiers were disorderly ; they had even broken open the City Hall, and plundered the College Library. Then, too, the knowledge that there were so many wretched prisoners in the Sugar House and the Provost's, was not enlivening, especially as some of those from Philadelphia were known to Mrs. Maverick — who often carried them relief. As winter came on. Sir William Howe gave occasional entertainments (at which Mrs. Loring appeared as conspicuously as in Boston) ; but many of the inhabitants of the city had fled before the British took possession, or had obtained passes soon afterwards ; and those who were left had no great reason to feel merry. Such of them as had estates on Long Island, or the mainland, complained bitterly thac the British foraging parties showed no respect of persons, but seized on any cattle or horses they came across — never so much as asking them if they were rebel beasts. Moreover, insult was added to injury — the remonstrating owners were bidden go carry their com- plaints to a remote and torrid region of the universe, which it is a gross incivility to mention in respectable ears. There should have been — and doubtless was — much con- solation in the fact that the rebel cause was growing more hopeless every day — until it seemed that Sir William Howe had only to bring down his hand and crush it at a blow, as one crushes a hornet (sometimes, it is true, getting stung for one's pains). After Fort Washington was taken, even Mrs. Maverick pitied the rebels — that is, she pitied the unhappy prisoners whom she saw being marched through the streets of New York, on their way to the jails. As lor Sam Adams, John Hancock, Mr. Washington, and the other leaders, who had brought them to this, Mrs. Maverick declared herself capable of sitting unmoved to see them sither hanged or beheaded, as His Majesty might command. Captain Digby had made acquaintance with a Captain Gray- don of Philadelphia, who wafj one of the prisoners taken at Fort Washington. The acquaintance began by Lieutenant Beckett (a good natured fellow, who had been very kind to the luckless prisoners) saying to Fred one day — when he had ridden out to the prisoners' temporary quarters — that he was sorry for these poor devils, and pointing out Graydon as a particular object of compassion — he being terribly anxious about his brother, who had, he feared, fallen at Fort Washington. A few days after the prisoners were marched into New York, [chap. XL.] A HAPLESS LOVER. 219 Fred came upon Graydon, not far from the battery (by Judge Jones's house), and was talking to him, when they heard — what was heard pretty often about that time — the buglers amusing themselves by giving the view-halloo. This was intended for the rebels across the water, and was considered an exquisite jest. It brought tears of mortification to poor Graydon's eyes. Digby pretended not to see them, and began to ask all sorts of questions, with the charitable design of diverting his atten- tion — and in the course of his questions discovered that his rebel acquaintance could give him some very interesting in- formation. From Graydon he learned that Miss Fleming was in Philadelphia. Graydon added that he had seen the young lady with her cousin, Colonel Fleming, about the time of the Declaration of Independence — a detail at which Fred's countenance fell considerably — and further remarked that he had heard that General Washington had a particular regard for the Colonel, who had shown great gallantry at Bunker's Hill, and had a cool steady head, to be depended upon at an emergency. " These particulars can hardly be expected to concern you," observed Mr. Graydon ; " but you seemed to take some interest in the family — and I rather fancied it might be a match between Colonel Fleming ^ d Miss Mary." "Did you — that is, had jou any particular reason for thinking so 1 " asks Fred, with an attempt at carelessness. " Only that she is a very charming girl, and he is a young man any girl might be proud of," returns Graydon — who, being safely engaged ta the object of his own affections, can afford to be generous. " And 'twas evident they was on very familiar terms." " The devil it was ! — I mean, could you really see that 1 " " I don't mean that they wa"^ foolish — only cousinly — they are cousins, you know," returis Graydon, a little surjirised at Captain Digby's showing so much feeling on the subject. From the upper windows of the house in Bowery Lane there was a view over the hills of Long Island, and Althea sometimes stole up to a certain window at the end of the upper corridor, and looking out towards Flatlands, wondered whether Jasper Fleming was among the prisoners who were ther'. on parole. Looking out of window is proverbially an un^trofitable employment ; and Althea used to come down in not the best of humours. -1 'h ! ! i\ T 1 1 1 ' ^ ' ! r I yi ■ , ' t I 220 A GREAT TREASON. [chap. She went dutifully with her aunt to visit the prisoners — but always with a sickening dread of seeing a face she knew. By this time she shared the opinion of Mr. Justice Jones as to the conduct of the war ; and although the exploits of rebel marau- ders, privateers, whaleboats, and skinners, sufficiently kept alive her prejudices against the rebels, she was often heartily disgusted at even so much of the Provost-Marihal's brutality as he permitted himself to show before ladies. This was some- times, however, — when he had begun at the punch-bowl earlier in the day than usual, — not much disguised. Althea did not know the secrets of those prison-houses till years afterwards — nor the hideous stories of prisoners poisoned, that the Provost- Marshal might go on drawing their rations as if they were still alive — but she saw enough to make her loathe Cunningham ; but party feeling was by this time risen to a madness which only civil war can excite, and which confused the judgements of per- sons who knew more of both sides than AJthe;'. T)igby could possibly have known. Althea's natural delicacy was offended by much that she saw that winter. Mrs. Loring flaunting it at the State-balls, was not a decorous spectacle; and old General Robertson appeared to her an odious old man. He had been presented to her at one of the balls, and was vastly smitten. He was always calling, and would squeeze her hand, and ogle her — as only such old men can — until she declared that next time he came, she would go up to her own room and stay there till he was gone. General Robertson had a "lady," as everybody knew — a certain Mrs. Carroll, at whose house some of the rebel prisoners, among them Mr. Graydon, were lodged. For the old G ..ural (a Scotsman by birth, and who had risen from the ranks) combined business with his pleasures. He was making a w -y pretty fortune out of his " Robertsons," as the rebels called tl> guineas, moidores, andsix-and-thirtieths, which had passed through his hands — and which might be known by the holes he punched out of them. As he also clipped the half-joes, these coins too were called by his honoured name. This venerable old gentle- man, now nearly eighty, had been made Governor of the city, in place of Governor Try on, to the unspeakable disgust of Mr. Justice Jones. It was not until December — by which time some^ at least, [chap. XL.] A HAPLESS LOVER. 221 beginning to tliinl;. it might be as well to of the rebels were have a friend at Court in time of need — that the Justice was released on parole, and returned to Xew York. He soon found out the ladies — and it may be imagined whether he spoke charitably of the rebels now ! But he soon saw things in New York, which put him in a still more towering rage with those who made the King's name and authority a cover for peculation and rapine. He came in one day, soon after his return, with a pretty thick book under his arm. "How do you do. Judge?" says Mrs. Maverick, holding out her hand, as she sat behind her tea-pot. It was easy to see that Mr. Jones was even more peppery than usual. " Do, Ma'am ! " he cries, bristling with wrath. " Very ill. Ma'am ! Infernally ill, saving your presence ! I'm ashamed to say it, but 'tis the truth, and damn it ! it shall be said ! The King's troops did more mischief the first week they were here than the rebels — confound 'em — did in seven months ! They only took a telescope for Mr. Washington's own use ; and the King's troops have stole forty thousand volumes out of the College Library ! I saw a villain yesterday hawking about some volumes of the Annual Register, neatly bound and lettered on the backs, and selling 'em for a dram ! " " 'Tis a shameful thing, to be sure ! " says Mrs. Maverick, much concerned. " Ma'am, 'tis infamous ! And this very afternoon, coming along to wait upon you, I saw an infernal scoundrel offering Coke lipon Littleton for one-and-sixpence ! One-and-sixpence, Ma'am, for a fine copy of CoJce iqjon Littleton, stole out of the town library by these pretty fellows sent hither to icstore order ! Ma'am, when I think how we loyalists are treated, I am like to burst with rage ! My cows and horses on Long Island have been taken. My loyal neighbours have had their fat cattle and wagons seized, just as if they was rebels. My friend Dr. Tredwell's horse — a descendant. Ma'am, of the famous Wildair, of the true English breed, and worth a hundred and fifty guineas — was poimced upon t'other morning by the Colonel of the 17th Dragoons. ' Get off that horse, in the King's name ! ' says this precious specimen. * I am a loyalist,' says the Doctor. * No matter ; get off, in the King's name,' says my fine gentleman. ' I want that horse, and, by George, I'll have him ! ' and when the Doctor remonstrates, the f 't T 222 A GREAT TREASON. [chap. i^ir I: 1: ^'i ill 1; jackanapes tells him to take the saddle home on his back, and be damned to him, and thank his stars that he don't take the saddle too ! And calls him a rebel, and threatens him with the Provost if he says any more ! " To this Mrs. Maverick replies by relating the woes of Jacobus Quackenboss — who, having after infinite pains found his horses, presented his memorandum. " But they only hove it at his head — 'tis the very word the poor man used — and I never saw any one more cut-up in my life," says the old lady. " I call it a shameful thing — and very impolitic too." "Ma'am, they're all traitors together," cries the Judge, clutching Coke iqjon Littleton and shaking it at Mrs. Maverick. " They're all in a league together, every one of 'em ! I believe on my soul, that there's a set plan to betray His Majesty — a plan to enrich themselves and let these Provinces be lost ! Howe is a traitor ! " " Come, come. Judge ; this is going too far," exclaims Mrs. Maverick, a little scared at such words. " I don't say his brother is. Black Dick, as the sailors call him, is, I think, an honest man. But Sir William — dallying with loose women, neglecting the best opportunities, and rob- bing His Majesty's loyal adherents — I say he's a traitor, and we are being bought and sold by him ! " The winter would have been dull indeed but for the presence in the city of a very accomplished young officer, a Captain in the Fusileers, named Andr^, who became exceedingly intimate with Mrs. Maverick and the Digbys, and was always dropping in and enlivening them with his witty conversation. Captain Andr^ — or Jack, as his friends called him — was a young man of Swiss extraction, who had begun life in com- merce. He had fallen in love with a young relative of Miss Anna Seward, the poetess, who was also a connection of his own ; but the course of true love ran cross. Jack Andrd was an amiable and agreeable young man enough, but he had neither fortune, connections, nor expectations, so the lady's friends opposed the marriage. She wept and protested, but she yielded at last, and allowed her family to marry her to Mr. Richard Edgeworth — a young widower of six-and -twenty, of almost as lively and ingenious a turn of mind as his rival. Having been so unlucky in love, Jack Andr^ determined to see if he could not be more lucky in war. Ambition woke up in li: XL, J A HAPLESS LOVER. 228 hiin, and whispered that glory was still left, even if love's labour was lost. He threw up his clerkship, and entered the army — where his charming manners and versatile genius quickly made him friends. There was nothing he could not turn his hand to, from a lampoon to a lady's fancy dress, and he was an authority on all matters of taste. With all this he was also a smart and intelligent officer, and men liked him as much as women admired him. Everybody knew that Jack Andre's heart was broken ; he still carried his lost Honora's portrait about with him, but he by no meaus therefore shunned the society of the ladies — who for their part did their best to comfort him. But, indeed, no one could resist the young fellow. There was a boyish impul- siveness about him which disarmed every one, always excepting his Honora's parents and guardians; but, as we all know, parents and guardians sometimes have millstones instead of hearts. Even in America, he had not been without his adven- tures. He was taken prisoner in Canada, and carried south to Lancaster — where, as usual, he won the affections of every one who had to do with him. He sketched the house in which he was quartered ; he made the most graceful and spirited pen-and- ink portraits of the family ; and when hi was exchanged, there was a general lamentation. In person Captain Andr^ was slight, and scarcely reached the middle height. His featiu'es, without being regularly hand- some, were decidedly pleasing; and a pair of ingenuous blue eyes, full of vivacity and sensibility, betrayed his feelings before he uttered them. He looked even younger than he was, and the charm of his conversation was all the more irresistible from the singular union of so boyish a face with so accomplished a mind and so polished a manner. There was nothing of the forlorn lover of tragedy about him — it required, indeed, some stretch of imagination to believe that so light-hearted a being could be the victim of blighted affection. But to doubt this, would have been to wrong Jack Andr6. His passion for his Hon- ora had been a true one, and if he hovered round other shrines now that she was lost to him, who could blame him 1 Was he to be accounted incapable of deep suffering, because his com- plexion was not a fine olive-green, and his general aspect that of a Calabrian brigand 1 Jack Andre's character had nothing tragic in it by nature, bat he had had a great passion neverthe- less. The women who allowed him to flirt with them, knew ■■« 224 A GREAT TREASON. [chap. ! ': 1/ f-'Vi » well enough that he would never love again as he had loved — from which it will appear how eminently disinterested was the interest which they took in him. Being thus naturally sanguine and imi)ulsive, it was but a law of natm'e that he should believe himself to be a deeply-tragic person — and being as transparent as the day, that he should be convinced he had a prodigious aptitude for intrigue and diplomacy. He had his young brother with him — a mere boy — he him- self was not much more than five-and-twenty ; but he told Miss Digby that he had several sisters who came betwcv^n them in age. This ingenious young gentleman had conceived a huge ad- miration for Althea Digby. He had confided his sorrows to her ear, and she had listened very patiently. He had shown her his Honora's portrait — a pretty miniature taken by himself ; and he told her how, when he was made prisoner at St. John's by General Montgomery (a little before Arnold's attempt on Quebec), he had concealed this portrait in his mouth, lest it should fall into the hands of his captors. He sighed deeply as he told all this, and it was evident that he had suffered much — although he went on to speak of the Phoenix, and to beg Miss Digby's opinion as to that classic fowl's peculiarities, and especially as to its alleged power of rising renewed out of its own ashes. Here, however, Althea gently withdrew her hand (which the Captain had respectfully kissed out of gratitude for some words of womanly sympathy which she had just uttered), and remarked that, although no one could justly blame a man for transferring his affections from a woman who did not return them, yet that, in a case like this, it was difficult to see how either of the parties could hope for happiness. " For I will not suppose either of you so fickle as to be able soon to forget each other," she added, leaning back in her chair, and looking full in Jack Andre's face, as she took up the netting which she had laid down for a moment. " Heaven knows I have remembered her too long for my own peace of mind ! " cried Captain Andrd, ruefully contem- plating his rufiles, to avoid meeting Miss Digby's steady glance. But she was inexorable. " Nay, I hope you are not going to abuse your own con- stancy," she said, smihng but determined. " In the past, no ; but for the future — 'twere folly, if not indeed sin, to continue to cherish feelings towards her which it were now a sin in her to retm'n." [chap. XL.] A HAPLESS LOVER. 225 id loved — d was the y sanguine Lild believe ransparent prodigious — he him- 3 told Miss lem in age. a huge ad- sorrows to had shown by himself ; St. John's attempt on uth, lest it d deeply as red much — to beg Miss arities, and cl out of its V her hand ratitude for st uttered), ame a man not return to see how le as to be jack in her ook up the ong for my ly contem- ;ady glance. ir own con- folly, if not ler which it i* "I protest, Captaui Andr)lonel to on which )r written rays that that His vhich this days are iboiir, and say, if lie urned her , tired of )ld stroke fy General lurprise of lie terrible Delaware, ras frozen iom camp down to the wind, the blocks seemed to is was the mist cross d, was in sing every on which it outside, nd a voice ks hastily I thought " So I was this morning," replies Wilkinson, dismounting. "I've a letter to His Excellency, from General Gates." As he goes in, Jasper, standing just outside the window, hears His Excellency say, — " What a time is this to hand me letters ! " Then he hears Wilkinson's brisk young voice replying ; and presently catches the word "Philadelphia," and hears His Excellency repeat, in the same tone of solemn reproach and in- dignation, — " On his way to Congress ! " " Dear me — beg your pardon. Colonel Fleming, I'm sure — didn't see you, coming suddenly out of the light," exclaims Wilkinson, who has run into Colonel Fleming's arms, and would have fallen on the slippery stones, if the Colonel had not promptly caught him. " How dark it has grown ! " " Dark enough to make the venture," says Jasper. " If you ever say your prayers. Major Wilkinson, now's the time, for I think the future of this country hangs on to-night." "God grant you succeed!" cries Wilkinson, "But was ever an army so ill-found 1 I traced you here by your bloody footsteps in the .^now." "Who will lead us over?" -ries His Excellency, coming down to the water's edge. Colonel Glover and the Marble- head fishermen are there to do it. They might be a regiment of seals, for their indift'erence to water, but work as they may, they cannot get the artillery over before four in the morning. As the troops crossed the river, the sleet and snow drove in their teeth, and the night was as dark as their hopes. The light of the lantern in the prow fell on Washington's face — set like iron. " This is the Rubicon with a vengeance ! " whispered a voice in Jasper's ear, and turning, he saw the fair boyish face of Alexander Hamilton. "This work is too rough for you," he said involuntarily, as he contrasted Hamilton's small slight form with the stalwart figures around him. "And your head is too valuable a one to be risked without necessity." " I mean to run worse risks than this before I die," said Hamilton. " Look at His Excellency — he means to do or die, and I think he will do." " I bade young Wilkinson pray for our success," whispered Jasper in Hamilton's ear. " But I think I had better have told il 232 A GREAT TREASOy. [chat. i ri: him to pray that his master Gates may rot wriij^gle himself into Washington's place, while we are away on this errand." They were to march in two divisions — one on the upper and one on the lower road. The ^econd division, under Sullivan, was to halt at the crossroads leading to Howland's ferry. It was a nine miles' march ; the roads were slippery and the men half-clad, but they marched on manfully — uj) hill and down — amidst sleet and hail. Part of the way led through forests of hickory and black oak, whose boughs sheltered them a little from the violence of the wind ; but more than once Jasper was obliged to get off and lead his horse, so deep were the ruts, and so much was the poor beast distressed by the hailstones. The cold gray dawn broke before they saw the roofs of Trenton, where Colonel Rahl and his Hessians lay. They can scarcely hope to effect a surprise by broad daylight. " Sir, we are at the cross-roads, but General Sulliva i desires me to uiform your Excellency that his arms are wet,'" says an aide-de-camp, trotting up at this moment. " Then tell your General to use the bayonet," replies His Excellency sternly. " The town nmst be taken." And so they went on along the snowy road in the gray December morning. They were close to the village, but the snow lay deep, the Hessians slept heavily, and no alarm was given until they were fairly in the street. Now Colonel Rahl loved music and deep potations — as a good German should — yet perhaps, as a com- mander stationed so near the enemy, rather too well than wisely. He had vexed the military soul of one of his lieu- tenants, by neglecting the weightier matters of drill and defence, in his anxiety that the hautboys should play up bravely. He delighted to make his men march round the church to martial strains ; but he had laughed at a proposal to throw up some earth- works — and when the old veteran Von Dechow had respect- fully urged that at least it could do no harm, he had made a boastful joke, which may be best described as mediaeval. The Herr Colonel had yesterday received a warning that he was to be attacked by Lord Stirling, and had been on the alert ; but it so happened that last night, in the twilight., one of his pickets was fired on by a party which instantlj fell back into the woods ; so thyi Colonel concluded that this was the attack, and went home to bed — having some wassail-cups to sleep off. But at eight o'clock in the morning, a very different alarm was given. That same disapproving lieutenant was in command of the XL!.] A BOLD STROKE. 233 picket, just at the top of King Street. Hearing a slight com- motion, he popped his head out of the door, and saw the enemy's advance-guard with the artillery behind filling the street. " her Feind ! Der Feind ! Hermis ! Heraus ! " shouts the lieutenant ; and in another instant they hear firing at the lower end of the town, and in a moment more the cold frosty air is full of the noise of war — bugles sounding an alarm — drums beating to arms —dragoons galloping hither and thither— shots from windows- shouts of officers trying to form their bewildered men ; while Washington rides up the street beside Forest's artillery, which is just ready to open fire. " Sir," says Jasper, " your position is too exposed. No success could make up for any accident happening to you." But His Excellency's blood is up, and he will not listen. The enemy are getting two field-pieces in posi- tion across King Street— but Captain Washington and Lieutenant Munroe with the advance make a brave rush, and take the pieces before they can be fired. The Herr Colonel is by this time on horseback, drawing his men together — he has actually got them safe out of the town. But his evil genius suggests to him that one wild dash may recover all, and save both honour and baggage. So he gallops back into the town, now in full possession of the enemy. There is a wild charge— and then the Colonel falls from his horse, and the Hessians, seeing his fall, break in dismay and try to flee. As Jasper returns from carrying a message to Sullivan, he sees the luckless Colonel, supported by a file of sergeants, pre- senting his sword to His Excellency, and knows that the bold stroke is accomplished. ***** The elephants of King Pyrrhus were not more monstrous in the eyes of the Romans than were the F essians to the rebel Provinces. They ate babies; they drank the blood of their enemies. Mothers frightened their naughty children with their name. And now more than seven hundred of these wild beasts were marched prisoners into Newtown, and discovered to be but men after all. They wore towering brass-fronted caps, and bristled with brass all over. TL^y blacked their shoes and their moustaches out of the same gallipot; their queues reached their waists ; altogether they looked terrible fellows. But the spell was broken, the day that their blue coats and yellow breeches were seen coming down Newtown Street. By the spring, Washington had recovered the Jerseys with- \ 234 A GREAT TREASON. [chap. out a pitched battle ; and though as spring canje on, the clouds began to gather in the north, and faction lifted up her head in Congress, the tide had turned, — there was never any more talk of retiring behind the AUeghanies. [ ^ . :t i CHAPTER XLII. PHILADELPHIA. There are always some dull pauses in the midst of the most exciting times — pauses long enough for the acuteness of suspense to become blunted, and for the more prosaic part of the evils of war and tumult to be felt. In Philadelphia, even the presence of Congress could hardly keep the town alive, in the stagnation of business caused by the interruption of com- munication. Occasional rumours of dissensions in Congress (who sat with closed doors, and admitted no reporters), and more disquieting rumours from the seat of war, could not prevent the town from being extremely dull. Most of the young men were gone to the war — many, alas ! slain, or prisoners in New York, or in the prison-ships off Jersey — for there was scarcely a family on the side of the Provincials which had not to lament some member killed or taken at the surrender of Fort Washington. Then came the gloomy day when the members of Congress departed for Baltimore, and seemed to ler,ve the city to its fate. Mrs. Branxholm and Mary had endured their full share of suspense throughout the winter. General Branxholm, with his brigade of mounted rifles, was chiefly engaged in repressing the raids of the loyalists of Long Island — who were beginning to establish a regular system of rapine. It had become a recognised method of plunder, to carry olf a substantial citizen in a mid- night raid, and hold him to ransom. The other side naturally tried reprisals, so there were occasional exchanges of captives. In such a state of things, cattle-lifting and housebreaking were mere matters of course. No one who had the misfortune to live on Long Island, or in any of the districts around New York, could go to bed, without a reasonable probability of being awakened by Pagan and his men, or some other marauder of the same kidney, having his house stripped, and being himself car- ried off" to New York, until he shoiUd have paid a round ransom. [chap. le clouds head in Qore talk XLII.] PHILADELPHIA. 235 the most ieness of 3 part of hia, even alive, in of com- Congress ers), and )uld not t of the slain, or sey — for ovincials II at the )my day Dre, and share of with his sing the nning to cognised 1 a mid- aturally aptives. ng were [•tune to id New of being of the self car- ransom. Philadelphia was as yet too far from the seat of war to be subject to such plagues as these. As yet, Washington and his army lay between her and the enemy ; aid the piratical whale- boats, which infested the Sound and the Hudson River, dared not try the waters of the Delaware. But the dark cloud of war shut in her horizon for all that, and the air was heavy with disquiet. Many of the leading citizens were known to disapprove of the resort to arms — there were whispers of plots — and every now and then the decorous Quaker city saw the unseemly spectacle of the tarring and feathering of some obnoxious loyalist. To Mary Fleming, born and bred in Boston, Philadelphia had a strangely sleepy and old-world air. Fashion — time itself seemed almost to have stood still there. There were no steep streets and crooked alleys as in Boston ; all here was laid out with the right angular precision of Quaker morality. The fair broad streets, with their avenues of trees, gave a sense of leisure unknown to the busy thoroughfares of Boston. Mary said that, after the narrow streets of Boston, Philadelphia seemed to her like a house without walls. Mary had been awakened early that morning by the long- winding of a cow-horn. Before the Revolution, this was the reveille of the citizens of Philadelphia. The cow-herd blew his horn in Dock Street, and the people let out their cows, — who knew the sound, — and when they were all gathered, he led them to the common pasture. In the evening, he went for them, and brought them back — blowing his horn as the signal for the housekeepers to open their gates. Then he blew again, and every cow came home to her own door, as some of us have seen them do in villages of the Bavarian Highlands to this day. Mrs. Branxholm's rooms possessed the lately-introduced luxury of wall-papers — an experiment to which the landlady had brought her mind only after great searchings of heart. That the paper would harbour dust, and the paste turn mouldy, were the private convictions of that estimable person. But the Slate-Roof House had a character to maintain, and she had been assured by Mrs. Franklin (whom she had happened to meet in a drapery store, while her mind still trembled in the balance) that wall-papers would soon be all the rage — Dr. Franklin had said so, founding his opinion on the love of womankind for gay colours and change. The new wall-paper exhibited a choice collection of classic I -1 I \ 286 A GREAT TRE4S0N. [chap. Mj . i; vases, from which depended festoo.ift of elegant pale -puce flowers. Against this unwonted background, stood the heavy- Spanish mahogany furnitiu'e, which had already served two generations, and was to serve at least three more. In those days (which in the Colonies answered to a period full fifty years earlier in England), respectable people were no more ashamed of inheriting their father's tables and chairs, than of bearing their names, or of following their opinions. In England, long before this, great progress had been made, and fine young gentlemen, who had gone on the grand tour, tried almost as hard to make themselves into French gallants as the frog did to swell heiself into an ox ; and to be old-fashioned was to have committed the one unpardonable crime. A man might be guilty of all the seven deadly sins, and yet be admitted to repentance in a coat of the latest mode — but the door of mercy was inexorably shut against an unfashionable sinner. In Philadelphia, however, before the revolution, it was not thus — perhaps because the shade of William Penn still haunted the streets of his city — or, perhaps, because Paris was so far away. Instead of wearing two or three watches at once, like modish gentlemen at home, the citizens of Philadelphia so often wore none at all, that it was quite a recognised custom to step into a watchmaker's and ask the time of day — until Mr. Duffield put up a public clock. But fashion lies deep in the heart of man — even in Phila- delphia, the boatmen went about with their hair tied up in eelskins, to make it grow into a toupee. I/Iany gentlemen had laid aside their wigs since Braddock's men came back from Fort Duquesne in their own hair ; and many nioic had done so since the King of England had cast away his own peruke. For all this, however, Philadelphia was half a century behind- hand (at the very least) in the arts of genteel dissipation. There was not even a public promenade ; it had not yet occurred to the Pennsylvanians to go out except on business. But there was plenty of homely sociality ; and in summer the ladies dressed up of an evening, and sat in their doorways, or went from porch to porch gossiping with their neighbours. They rode, too, in neat little jockey-caps, or drove iu one-horse chairs, with leathern bands for springs. Indoors and out, there was the same substantial simplicity. Mrs. Branxholm's sitting-room had no carpet, but the boards were as white as the silver-sand they were sprinkled with, and [chap. XLII.] PHILADELPHIA. 237 )ale-puce lie heavy Ted two In those ifty yeara ashamed f bearing iind, long le young Imost as frog did s to have night be nitted to of mercy ler. In )t thus — mted the far away, e modish 'ten wore .ep into a ffield put in Phila- ed up in men had ick from done so peruke. behind- sipation. not yet business. [imer the ways, or ghbours. )ne-horse mplicity. boards rith, and which Doborah, the hired woman, swept into figures with her brush. Tlie chimney-place was in a corner ; it was one of Dr. Franklin's " Pennsylvanians," and bore the appropriate device of a friendly-faced sun, with the motto, ALTER IDEM. A little above the stove, and set across the corner of the room, hung a fine mirror, in a scalloped mahogany frame, further embellished by a fi .toon of flowers painted on the glass itself. It had a shelf in front of it — on which Althea's haud-screens enjoyed the post of honoiu-. This arrangement was Mrs. Branxholm's own doing, suggested by a mantel-shelf which she had seen in Boston, and was one of the innovations which her landlady had resisted. She had, however, handsomely owned that the effect was elegant, and gave the room quite a new air. If the town was dull, what society there was in the Slate- Koof House was of the best. Mr. Rittenhouse (lately appointed State-treasurer) would drop in pretty often. He was very partial to Mary, and spent a deal of pains in explaining to her how he calculated the exact size of the moulds for his clock-weights — for he had been charged with replacing with iron the leaden weights for which Congress had found another use. One morning, however, Mr. Rittenhouse came near receiv- ing a warmer welcome from Mary than he expected. Ho was coming along — rather earlier in the day than he usually went abroad — and being somewhat lost in medita'^n, did not observe until he was actually in front of the door-steps that half-a-dozen boys and girls were gathered round the porch of the Slate-Roof House, where Mary Fleming, her face crimson with anger, was holding up an egg to the general view. " This is a wicked attempt to frighten silly people ; there's no magic in it — 'tis a trick ! " Mary was saying indignantly, as she looked round on her audience, who seemed rather awed — but whether by her eloquence, or by the trick she was denounc- ing, was not apparent. " I have heard of these eggs, and I'll serve every one I see as I serve this one — and not pay for it, neither ! " With this, Mary dashed the egg into the middle of the road — with so swift and unexpected a movement, that Mr. Rittenhouse very nearly received it into his own bosom, as he came up the steps to see what might be the matter. " I scarce expected, Miss IMary. to be pelted by you with rotten eggs," he observes, bowing politely — while the boys laugh (out of piu:e respect, as Jasper said, when this story was told him). I I memmmmmmm 238 A GREAT TREASON. [chap. ; ■(( : t ! i " 'Tis not rotten that I know of, sir," stammers Mary in great confusion. " But indeed I am so ashamed, I do not know what to say to you — only I was so put out ; and so I think will you be when you know why I did it. 'Tis what they call a magic egg " Mr. Rittenhouse now perceived a great girl with a basket of eggs on her arm. " Magic egg or no, Humpty-dumpty hath had a great fall," he observed, quietly stepping into the road, and turning over with his cane the shattered remains of Humpty-dumpty, as he lay in the dust. Some letters were faintly visible on the broken shell — " America, Hoive shall he thy conqueror ! " says Mr. Rittenhouse slowly reading the inscription. " It looked so indeed three weeks ago, but now I think that Sir William Howe shall no more conquer America, than All the King's horses and all the King's men Shall put Humpty-dumpty together again. Pray do not apologise, my dear Miss Mary — 'twas a patriotic act, and I trust will be imitated. As for the magic, 'tis a very simple scientific secret, and could only impose on ignorance." Mr. Rittenhouse said this rather severely, for the benefit of his hearers ; and added — " Go home, and tell your mothers that I could in an hour write, ' America, Washington shall be thy deliverer^ on a score of such eggs." Dulness and safety are frequently supposed to be convertible terms ; but though Philadelphia was undoubtedly dull, its safety was threatened pretty often from without, while within, as every one knew, the great body of the Quakers inclined strongly to the royal cause, as to the Powers that Were. They did not always confine their opposition to the sort whereof it is said, " he that is not with me is against me " — but were known to give aid and comfort to the enemy in many ways, more or less direct — even if they did not, as was suspected, positively plot to restore the old order. There was a brief flash of rejoicing when the Hessians were marched through, and poor Colonel Rahl's colours were hung up in Carpenter's Hall. But not even this could give much hope to the New Year, with Congress fled away, and every now and then an alarm of Howe's approach — the militia ordered out, shops to be shut, and people packing up their bedding and clothes in wagons, ready to start for the mountains. XLIII.] A MAN BORN TO COMMAND. 239 The New Year was but a fortnight old, when the body of General Mercer (slain at Princetown) was brought in, to be buried at Christ Church with the honours of war. There were many such solemn spectacles after tliis, and one rainy day youno- Ensign Morris was laid to rest in the Friends' burying-ground" —but with no volley from weapons of carnal warfare breaking the sacred stillness. Rumours that New York was taken— Tory prisoners brought in— backwoodsmen marching through to join the army- more funerals — so the winter wore away. The very excitements in Philadelphia that winter were gloomy— the last being the hanging of Molesworth, for tryino- at the instigation of Ex - speaker GaUoway, to corrupt three pilots of the town, and get them to bring the Eagle up the Beside this, two or three flying visits from General Branx- holm and Jasper, and as many letters from Noel— now in Ne vr Jersey with General Arnold— were the only events of any vital importance to either Mrs. Branxholm or Mary Fleming until spring was far on its way to summer. sians were CHAPTER XLIII. A MAN BORN TO COMMAND. Magisque magisque viri nunc gloria claret. Noel Branxholm accompanied General Arnold on his visit to the camp on the Delaware, in December— not very lonff before the surprise of Trenton, and had the happiness of there seeing his brother, for the first time since the breaking out of the war In the few days which he and Jasper spent together, there was no lack of subjects for conversation. If Jasper could possibly have entertained any doubt before as to the extent to which Noels affections were engaged, he could have none now. They were one day discussing the loss of New York, and all the disastrous consequences which had followed therefrom when Noel said— with a somewhat heightened colour and an uneasy manner, which Jasper did not fail to notice— '* I suppose Miss Digby is there ? " " I suppose so," said Jasper— and hesitated so long before i I 240 A GREAT TREASON. [chap. i' he could find anything more to reply, that Noel mistook his brevity for displeasure. " You hui't me once, brother — the only time you ever did," he said, holding his head high, and meeting Jasper's gaze. " Do you remember hinting that Miss Digby might move me from my principles 1 I hope you do not think it now ? " " No — I do not think it now," replied Jasper in a con- strained tone. Noel had introduced Miss Digby's name so suddenly, that he was taken unprepared. " All ! but you speak doubtingly — you wish it was other- wise ! You wish 'twas any other woman in the world I had set my thoughts on!" cried Noel excitedly. '"Tis so — con- fess it ! " " If it wciC so — even if it were, 'tis not because I — that is, you have no right to suppose — I mean, I never gave you cause to imagine — you mistake me " Jasper stammered and hesitated more and more. To accept Noel's accusation was to seem to think Althea unworthy — to repel it too openly, might be to betray himself. But Noel had not the remotest suspicion of the truth. " Dear brother, I understand you better than you can explai.: yourself," he said. " I'll even own my love is a misfortune — God knows 'tis so, for I can never hope 'twill have a happy conclusion. But we cannot control our hearts — that's a task beyond the power of all our philosophy, as you will, I doubt not, find out one day for yoiurself." " I have learned it already," said Jasper — and even the unsuspicious Noel noticed an unwonted bitterness in his voice — " and, like much other wisdom, 'tis of very little use to its owner. But why do we talk thus, when we must part so soon, and may never meet again in this world ? As you know, His Excellency means shortly to strike a blow somewhere, though no one as yet knows where, and wherever he goes I follow." " There's a something about His Excellency which compels respect," said Noel, " and then he is a Virginian — but if he throws your life away in one of his unlucky engagements, I shall not forgive him. I could wish you had served imder General Arnold " — " If I have rightly understood your description of his cam- paigns," said Jasper drily, " I should but be exchanging the frying-pan for the fire." Noel laughed. "'Tis true he does not choose the safest [chap. istook his ever did," xze. " Do e me from in a con- 5 name so was other- )rld I had i so — cou- I — that is, ) you cause To accept A^orthy — to t Noel had can explaiii ^fortune — e a happy at's a task I doubt tU, even the n his voice use to its irt so soon, know. His 3re, though follow." ch compels -but if he cements, I ved under )f his cam- anging the the safest XLIII.] A MAN BORN TO COMMAND. 241 roads," he said ; " but if you had ever seen him fight you would think of him as I do. You have seen him and heard him speak — is he not a man born to command 1 " " Yes, in action," returned Jasper. " He is a man of aston- ishing daring and resolution, quick to resolve, and bold — and cautious too — to carry out. But I think he is too thirsty for glory, and, though 'tis the least ignoble sort of self-seeking, 'tis self-seeking still. No one can have seen Washington — as I have — sober and undated in success, patient and steadfast under defeat, without perceiving that the heart of a nation may safely trust In him. I'm ever reminded of those lines in Ennius — * Unus homo nobis cuuctanclo restituit rem ; Non ponebat enim rumorcs ante salutem ' — But I think the greatest men seem at first less great than they are ; 'tis not till I compare Washington with others, and even with your own intrepid commander, that I see how great he is." " That may be," observed Noel ; " but if General Arnold had been here you had never lost New York." Before they parted, Noel put his brother through a close examination as to all that had happp^jd in Boston. Jasper answered these questions very fully, ar frankly told his brother that although Miss Digby had shown him kindness wh .oh he could never either forget or repay, he feared she disliked him. "'Tis all my fault if she does," cried Noel eagerly — " not that I believe it for an instant. But I talked bo much of you, when we was at sea, that she's got an idea, I know, that I take all my opinions ft-om you. 'Twas in vain I assured her I thought for myself. She as good as told me you had made a rebel of me, and she called you a fire-eater before she'd ever seen you." "I can assure you I take that as a compliment," said Jasper, and his cheeks flushed. "I fancied she thought mo rather a fellow who set the ball a-rolling, but himself escaped the fuil penalty of his sedition." " She could Uyjt have thought that," said Noel. " But I see plainly how 'tis ; you misunderstood her from the first — nay, I'm not reproaching you. She's unjust too — I admit it. She chooses to think me your tool ; 'pon my word, I'd sooner she called me a fire-eater ! But you say she always spoke kindly of mel" " She never mentioned you without some kind expression or VOL. I. R I 242 A GREAT TREASON. [chap. i: ; ■ I ;/ ' I I ■ 1 , A fj I: other, and she has spoke a hundred times of your rescue of her brother." " She makes too much of that," said Noel, " I don't mean to say but in another instant lie had lieen lost, but any one would have done the same. But sure, dear brother, you wasn't with her all those raontlis without seeing what a noble creature she is 1 " " Can you not understand that the perceiving that may bring more pain than pleasure, under our circumstances?" returned Jasper, " I am fast becoming an accomplished dissembler !" he thought to himself, as Noel exclaimed, — " I understand it but too well, brother ! Is not that pre- cisely what I feel ten times more sharply than you possibly can 1 Well, whatever be the issue, I believe she will do us justice one day — 'tis scarce to be exi)ccted she should yet." A day or two after this. His Excellency ordered General Arnold to Phode Island, to assist in rallying the militia, and Noel bade his brother farewell with many embraces, in which everything was forgotten but their love for each other. Before General Arnold left camp, he had the satisfaction of getting his friend Captain Lamb exchanged. Lamb had been left for dead under the walls of Quebec, and had been a prisoner ever since. He was now empowered to raise a regiment of artil- lery, and, wanting funds, Arnold lent him a thousand pounds. The surprise of Trenton and the recovery of the Jerseys seemed to Noel's sanguine temperament siu-e signs of final and speedy victory to the cause of the United Colonies, He doubted not that the retaking of New York City would soon follow, and pleased himself with the idea of presenting himself very shortly before Miss Digby, in the character of a modest and chivalrous victor. He had by this time fresh reason to complain of his Gen- eral's wrongs. His relentless enemy. Colonel Brown, having been refused a coiu-t-martial, had sent no less than thirteen charges against Arnold to General Gates, who treated Brown very coolly, and forwarded the papers to Congress. This persistent persecution roused the anger of Schuyler (himself a victim to the New England grudge against a New Yorker) ; and he had written to Gates, that it would be well to court-martial officers who abused their superiors — adding that General Arnold's impartiality and candour would always expose him to complaint. [CIIAP. le of her n't mean any one >\i wasn't creature lay bring returned [)ler!"he that pre- libly can 1 istice one [ Genera] ilitia^ and in which itisfaction I had been I prisoner it of artil- ponnds. Jerseys final and doubted )llow, and ry shortly hivalrous his Gen- having Q, thirteen id Brown s. This himself a ker); and rt-martial 1 Arnold's omplaint. XLIII.] A MAN BORN TO COMMAND. 243 The effect of Brown's accusation? was soon seen. In February, Congress elected five Major-Generals, but Arnold's name was not among them. Washington was much annoyed, and vainly remonstrated against this injustice ; and Arnold, deeply hiurt, requested leave of absence to go to Pliiladelphia (to which place Congress had now returned), to demand an investigation of his conduct. He first, however, went home to New Ilaven, where his sister was taking charge of his children — his wife having died during his first Canadian campaign. He was still at New Haven when, one day in April, Governor Tryon of New York, who had planned a sudden descent on Rhode Island, landed two thousand troops at the foot of Compo Hill. He burned the stores at Fairfield, and then went on to Danbury. Wooster and Silliman, the Generals in command of the Provincials, had hastily called a few militia, and marched with them through the night, guided by the flames of Danbury. They were not more than six hundred in all. Just as they came into Reading, Noel — riding a little in advance of his company, anxiously listening for any sound, and wishing that General Arnold were but there to lead them — heard the sharp trot of a horse approaching, which slackened presently, and the very voice which he had been longing to hear, called out, — "Who goes there?" " Friends ! " cried Noel, spurring his horse up the street. " You are just in time, sir, we shall beat them now you are come !" " That will depend a good deal on how many they are," returned the General, not, however, displeased. As the day dawned, the street of Ridgefield presented a strange and unwonted spectacle. General Arnold, with Silli- man and the main body of the militia, were waiting there behind a barricade hastily thrown across the street — carts, logs, earth, and stones, anything that came to hand, had been used to block the road. On one side was a ledge of rocks, on the other, houses and barns. Five hundred of the militia of Ridgefield had come in during the night. Nine hundred men in all were waiting in Ridgefield street for Tryon, whose rear would be harassed by Wooster and his two hundred — Tryon, having done all the mischief he had intended, was retiring. It was neither dark nor light. The chilly dawn wrapped I 244 A GREAT TREASON. [chap. all the fariiilinr surroimdings in a dim gray mist — like the dim- ness which hangs between life and death — and the close-drawn blinds of the houses looked like eyes shut in death, to open no more. And so they waited, in a light more dreary than darkness itself, until the heavy tramp of the advancing British column sounded hollow through the fog, and they heard the distant firing of Wooster's men in the rear. The encounter was desperate j but numbers began to tell, and the heavy firing soon made a breach in the barricade. Still it would have gone hard with Tryon, if a platoon of General Agnew's infantry had not gained the ledge of rocks. Arnold was evidently the object of attack. The balls whistled round him — Noel expected every instant to see him fall. His horse was struck and began to plunge ; but that personal prowess which had so often before dazzled Noel's imagination, kept the foe at bay by sheer dint of hard blows. Then there was a sudden rush, and Noel, hard-pressed himself, and swept to the side of the road, suddenly missed the General, and desperately fighting his way towards him, heard a voice cry, — " Surrender ! you are my prisoner ! " At this Noel struck about him so madly that he found himself the next instant by the General's side, whose horse had sunk down dead under him, and at whose breast a Tory partisan was pointing his bayonet. Noel had but just time to wonder why he still kept the saddle, when Arnold said coolly, " Not yet ' " and, drawing out a holster-pistol, fired and killed the Tory. By this time Noel perceived that the General's foot was entangled in his stirrup, and helped him to get clear. There was a thickly- wooded swamp a little farther on, and here Arnold rallied his men, and hung on the British rear all the way back to Compo, where Lamb came up with his artillery. There was another smart encounter here, before the enemy could re-embark imder cover of the fire from the ships. and the General lost another horse — having nearly persuaded the enemy that he bore a charmed life. After this, Congress relented so far as to appoint him a Major-General, and presented him with a horse in the stead of the two killed at Ridgefield. But even by this tardy act of justice his late juniors still outranked him. In vain did Washington once more urge his claims upon Congress, and represent that [chap. XLIII.] A MAN BORN TO COMMAND. 246 ; the dim- ose-drawn ) open no I darkness ih column le distant an to tell, ide. Still if General . Arnold tied round His horso d prowess , kept the lere was a ept to the lesperately Surrender ! he found lose horse Eist a Tory st time to aid coolly, and killed foot was |ir. There and here II rear all ■with his before the the ships, persuaded int him a le stead of t of justice ''ashington 3sent that General Arnold would scarcely consent to act under the new Major-Generals — whom as senior Brigadier he had commanded but a few weeks ago. Arnold was obliged to soothe the injured pride of a soldier, by taking Avhat comfort he could from the report of the Board of War, which (confirmed by Mr. Carroll's evidence) pronounced Brown's charges to be cruel and ground- less. His Excellency had offered General Arnold the command on the Hudson. Arnold, however, had resolved to go to Philadelphia and demand the restoration of his seniority, and the settlement of his accounts. He had carried on the cam- paign in Canada to a great extent at his own charges, and had expended large sums to relieve the necessities of his starving soldiers. General Washington gave liim a letter to the Presi- dent of Congress; and Noel Branxholni, having obtained leave of absence, made the journey in his General's company. As, owing to the disturbed state of the country, the stage- coaches had ceased to ply even as far as Princetown, they journeyed on horseback, with a couple of attendants. They had ridden some way in silence, when the General suddenly asked Noel what he was thinking of? *' I was thinking, sir, of the first time that ever I saw you, and of all that has happened since," answered Noel. " 'Twas an odd meeting," said Arnold, looking sharply at his young companion. " I'll wager you thought I was a swag- gering apothecary." " I thought, sir, when you spoke of opportunity, that you was the man to seize one," replied Noel boldly — he knew that his General loved an outspoken answer. " And you may re- member I promised to follow wherever you might lead. 'Tis not a promise a man makes every day, but I've never regretted making it — and I shall never, I'm sure, regret keeping it." "You have kept it," said Arnold; "and whoever may turn against me, or play me false, I know you will not. Before ever you had spoke a word that day we met, I knew you was single-hearted." " To be faithful, sir, is the least a man can do," said Noel ; " we cannot control good fortune, but to be faithful lays in a man's own power." mmmmmmmmmm 246 A GREAT TREASON. [chap. CHAPTER XLIV. 1 ■ f GENERAL ARNOLD WITHDRAWS HIS RESIGNATION. Let me embrace you, Ere you depart ! It may be one of us Shall never do the like again. The Tragedy of Valentinian. It was in a very disconsolate mood that Noel was waiting at General Arnold's lodging on a sultry afternoon in July. The General had desired him to be there by three o'clock, and it was now past four. Noel had read the Pennsylvania Packet, which he found on the floor, until he had nearly dropped asleep — to be awakened by a blue-bottle fly buzzing in his ear. He had in sheer desperation examined a hideous shell-work cornucopia — a chef d'ceiivre which the General had considerably damaged by keeping his pens in it. Some one upstairs was playing the Old 100th on the harmonica. The casement was open, but very little air was stirring. Now and then, a step was to be heard going along the street, but this was so rare that Noel took the trouble to get up and look out. Once, it was a slow and pompous step — and Noel, peeping between the tall pots of lavender and golden-rod vdiich effectually screened the window, saw Dr. Yeldall, in three-cornered hat, full-bottomed wig, and rod cloth coat, on his way to visit a patient, shaking his head and muttering tc himself, as he bangod the pebbles with his gold-headed cane. Noel watched the doctor out of sight, and then impatiently returned to his chair and his meditations. Things were going ill. Tlierc was evidently no thought now of striking the one great blow with which all the young soldiers dreamed of putting an end to the war. Above all, there was no idea of attempting to dislodge the enemy from New York — an enterprise with the anticipation of which Noel had beguiled the long way from Canada. That New York would be invested, a concerted attack made by sea and land, and the city forced to capitulate — these were visions on which Ncel had allowed himself to dwell, until it seemed to him incomprehensible that General Washington should hesitate a moment before beginning his preparations. If only a sufficient force were brought to bear, success would be certain — for Noel was far too sanguine to perceive the dangers of becoming 1 [chap. JN. TINIAN. vaitiug at uly. The Liid it was het, whicli ep — to be Se had in Licopia — a. maged by g the Old but very I be heard I took the slow and 1 pots of } window, wig, and his head with his light, and ions. thought he young .bove all, emy from lich Noel ew York md land, on which to him lesitate a sufficient -for Noel becoming XLiv.l GEN. ARNOLD WITHDRAWS HIS RESIGNATION. 247 entangled in the British lines, in a districi where Tories abounded, and where the enemy would therefore be sure of receiving instant information of every movement. It was a necessary part of the picture that Althea Digby should by this means fall into the hands of the victorious besiegers, to be by them treated with such chivalrous magnani- mity that she must needs forgive her captors. How else could Noel ever hope to see her ngain? If, indeed, she had not left for England already ! But Jasper had expressly said that she did not intend to return thither. She had told him iliat her relations tliere had not been so eager with offers of seiTice, immediately after her father's death, as that she would care to throw herself on their kindness now. Though Jasper hud answered his brother's questions fully, it was evident to Noel that the subject of Althea Digby was one which he shrank from discussing. •'You still tiimk ill of her in your heart, — I can see it, Jasper, — but, by heaven, you do her wrong ! " he had exclaimed the last time they spoke of her. And Jasper had replied, — " I never thought ill of her — never, that is, after I had heard her speak. Will you never forget that one unfortunate word, for which, as I've told you, she herself has forgiven me ? " "'Twas like her to do so !" said Noel. "I protest, brother, you've given me such a picture of her generosity, that you've made me love her more than ever ! " "Then do not again accuse me of thinking ill of her," returned Jasper. But this afternoon, as the moments went by, and the General did not come back, Noel told himself that whatever Jasper might protest, he was certain he was uneasy about Althea's influence over him. " He knows her very little — and me still less," he thought, with some chagrin, " to imagine it possible. 'Tis the only time I ever kiiew his judgement to be at fault. But he hath never yet loved a woman himself, and so hath a notion that a man in love is bt)t a nose of wax, to be moulded as his mistress chooses." Noel felt that something had come between Jasper and himself, and that that something was Althea Digby. So keenly did he feel this, that he had even asked himself if it was worth while to let the mere memory of a woman, whom but too probably he would never sec again, estrange him ever so little from his brother. But he knew that so long as there remained in >.'i 1 lii I !! 1 1 1 I -I 248 A GREAT TREASON. [chap. the least hope of winning her, he could never deliberately give her up. He believed that she felt kindly towards him — she had assured him of her sisterly regard, with a sincerity he could not mistake ; and all that Jasper had said confirmed this. But Noel did not deceive himself ; in his heart he knew that he had not yet gained her love. And if the King's troops were to be left much longer in comfortable possession of New York, who could tell but that some smart young British oJQScer might not step in and carry off the prize 1 Noel had seen his brother several times since he had been in Philadelphia, but by tacit consent, they had avoided speaking of Althea. There was nothing new to say, and even Noel felt a disinclination to dwell on hopes which every month, as it went by, made less likely to be realised. It is obvious that there was very little in all this calculated to cheer Noel's spirits ; and the longer he waited for the General, the more dismally was he persuaded that everything was going wrong. He had been pouring out this conviction to Mary Fleming, that very morning, and he wished the General would come, that he might get away in time to go and take a dish of tea at the Slate-Eoof House. They ought not to have drunk tea ; but they did — and called it coffee. Mary had protested a little, but Mrs. Branxholm declared there was no harm — there could be no talk of tea-duty now, and the tea was there, and why not drink it ? Meanwhile, time was running on, and that young coxcomb, Graydon's cousin, would be there, hanging over Mary, and Noel would not be able to get a word with her ! The General must be detained by something serious. In disgust at the long-continued refusal of Congress either to pass his accounts, or to give him his proper rank, he had yesterday sent in his resignation ; but surely Congress would decline to accept it ! General Arnold had now been three months in Philadelphia, vainly demanding the settlement of his accounts. Once during that time it had seemed as though something was to be done. Sir William Howe had made a demonstration towards the city, and Arnold had been sent for to the Delaware above Trenton ; but the British Commander had refused battle — though those best able to judge, believed that he was meditating crossing the Delaware with a view to marching on Philadelphia. Noel respected his brother's opinion too much to have ever wished to see Washiaigfton superseded by Lee, but he could not help secretly lamenting the capture of that General — as the [chap. XLiv.] GEN. ARNOLD WITHDRAWS HIS RESIGNATION. 249 and silencing of a voice which was always given for action. He tried to comfort himself by remembcing that General Arnold had never expressed any admiration for Lee's military abilities, and had even said that his ignominious capture served the braggart right. " If His Excellency had full powers, as he ought to have. General Arnold would not have been kept here, dancing attend- ance, till he resigned his commission in disgust," thought Xoel ruefully. " Oh, for one bold dash, in which we might risk all to win all ! " Just then, he heard the hasty determined step — which always made his heart leap with the hope of something to be undertaken — and caught a glimpse of General Arnold turning in at the door. In a moment he entered the room. His face was flushed and angry, yet something about his whole manner made Noel say respectfully,— " You look, sir, as though you had heard good news. May I hope that Congress has done you justice at last 1 " " Congress be d d ! " said Arnold with a triumphant defiance in his tone. '' No ! they think to wear me out with their rascally lawyer-like delays ! His Excellency's only fault is that he shows 'em too much respect — he should send 'em about their business, as Cromwell did the Rump ! A curse on Kings and Congresses, say I ! No ! they have not done me justice, and they never will — but, for all that, I've withdrawn my resignation ! " "Then are we to attack New York, sir?" cried Noel joyfully. " No," said Arnold, smiling at the young fellow's impe- tuosi ; " we leave that for General Lee to do, when he is exchanged — he hath been long enough in New York," he added sarcastically, " to know the best points of attack. We are to do better than that. Burgoyne is advancing on the Hudson, and two expresses have come in from Schuyler. St. Clair has evacuated Ticonderoga without striking a blow, and is wandering in the woods with his army — no one knows where ! You look astounded — but 'cis but the inevitable result of the pig-headed obstinacy which would not believe the Sugar- Loaf Hill was accessible, though Wayne and I climbed it last summer, to prove it was ! Well, Ticonderoga is lost, and SHinjler writes that he is at the head of a handful of men — fi.v.e hundred at most — and only five rounds of ammunition a wr r ■\ i. . H ^ . « if fl H 260 A GREAT TREASON. ""chap. man — the country in consternation, Fort George threatened, and the Indians at work scalping by Fort Stauwix ! " The General walked about the room, clenching his hands with rage as he spoke. " Fools ! always counting on what may not be — instead of acting on what may be ! " he exclaimed presently, while Noel stood by in dismayed silence. " The loss of the place and all the artillery and stores is bad enough, but the panic is a thousand imes worse than all ! Burgoyne is marching through the country like a conqueror, and if he once gets down the Hudson we are lost ! When I think how all I won in Canada has be n fooled away, I could curse ! " And then with a sudden change of manner, he added quietly, — " I have withdrawn my resignation, and offered to serve, if I must, under St. Clair." He smiled sarcastically as he said it, and when Noel ex- claimed ; " 'Twas a noble patriotic resolution, sir ! " he rejoined that it was a sacrifice he might never be called on to make, as it was quite possible that St. Clair's scalp was dangling by this time at Joseph Brant's girdle. '* But however that may be, I shall go," he concluded. " Then I was right, sir, and you've brought good news," said Noel, who believed his General to be invincible. " When you came in, I was just wishing we might for once be permitted to risk all to win all — and here is the opportunity, and a glorious one indeed ! " " 'Tis well there are wiser and cooler heads than yours, my young fr.snd, to remember that one may also risk all to lose all," said the General looking at him good-naturedly. " But I like to see spirit. And this time we must do more than last — Burgoyne must be beat at all hazards. I have told 'em I'll serve without a command if they won't give me one ; but Washington will, I know, never let that indignity be put upon me." It so happened, that next morning Jasper came in from Morristown. He had only one day's leave, and had ridden all night. He came just in time to see his brother once more. On both sides the interview was affecting — almost solemn. Noel was about to start on what must prove a perilous cam- paign, and it was equally certain that Sir William Hov/e did not mean to leave General Washington in undisturbed pos- session of the field much longer. " We may be pretty sure 'tis all part of one plan," said Noel in answer to a remark which Jasper had made. Ana XLV.] SIR JOHN BURGOYNE PUTS ON HIS ARMOUR, 251 then he took his brother's hand and said, looking at him very sadly, — " Jasper, if I fall, and you escape, and you are ever able to get speech of her, tell her I never forgot her. Nay, dear brother, why should my saying it move you 1 " for Jasper's eyes had filled with tears. " 'Tis no more like to be because we speak of it. And for God's sake, take care of yourself, for if anything was to happen to you, 'twould, I'm sure, break my heart. 'Tis my greatest troulDle that we are so often parted. We've never had a thought that the other did not know, — oh, I guess more of yours than you tell me ! And if we do not meet again, remember I said nothing on earth could ever come between us for long, — not even a woman's love." They embraced each other without speaking. "I've nothing to say in case anything should happen to rae," said Jasper when he had a little recovered his calmness — his hands still rested on Noel's shoulders, and he looked in his eyes without flinching — " except that I would have you remem- ber you was always dearer to me than myself." Many tears were shed the day that Noel left Philadelphia. Mra. Branxholm seemed as though she could not let him go, and Mary, when she kissed him, was as pale as death, and her lips were almost as cold. But Noel had shaken off his mo- mentary depression, and he rode away in very tolerable spirits. CHAPTER XLV. SIR JOHN BURGOYNE PUTS ON HIS ARMOUR. If after all my loving warnings, My wishes and my bowels' yearnings, You shall remain as deaf as adder, Or grow with hostile rage the madder, I swear by George and by St. Paul, I will exterminate you all. Subscribed with my manual sign, T'attest these presents, John Burgotne. It was with a Proclamation conceived very much in this strain, that Sir John Burgoyne set out upon the conquest of the rebel- lious Provinces of North America. So admirably appointed an army had perhaps never been sent out before. It only num- bered somewhere about ten thousand men in all ; but these men 1 ; I; i: ( i' » , ^ ■\ \ 252 A GREAT TREASON. [chap. were the very flower of the British army, and the Generals were men of tried courage and ability. One of them, General Fraser, was the sol of that old Simon, Lord Lovat of Fraser, who, having hunted with the hounds and run with the hare for so long, at last laid his gray head on the block upon Tower Hill, after the 'Forty-five. His son hoped, by zealously serving the House of Hanover, to get the attainder reversed and the estates restored. The train of artillery was the finest ever given to so small a force. There were four thousand mercenaries — Hessians, Wal- deckers, Anspachers, and Brunswickers, under Baron Riedesel — and it was credibly asserted that the Hessians had double teeth all round their jaws. Sir John himself was a person whose birth, antecedents, and character, all combined to make him a romantic figure. Every- body knew that he was a son of Lord Bingley. He had fohowed up this advantage by running away with Lord Derby's daughter. The Earl — perhaps misliking the bar-sinister — had been for a long time inexorable. Bm'goyne, however, distinguished himself in Portugal, where he had formed a friendship with Lee. He was also a wit, and a man of elegant tastes. So at last, when his heir was to be married. Lord Derby relented, and permitted his audacious son-in-law to write a play for the occasion. It was called The Maid of the Oah, and Mr. Walpole made cruel fun of it. But the General wrote another, which he called The Heiress — and this Mr. Walpole was pleased to say was the gen- teelest comedy in the language. Besides all these claims to admiration. Sir John was a brave soldier; and, if he was a weak man, and too fond of vainglorious proclamations, was a very kind-hearted one, with a foolish romantic generosity — not of the highest sort, but genuine in its way. And his abhorrence of cruelty was quite genuine — for which reasons we will hope that Junius, when he accused him of cheating at play, was merely indulging the innate malignancy of his genius. This gallant little army was to march from Quebec, by the St. Lawrence and Lake Champlain, to the Hudson, and so to Albany. Colonel St. Leger was to co-operate with Sir John from the Valley of the Mohawk, and Sir Henry Clinton was to advance up the Hudson. There was plenty of elbow-room here. The march lay through the old battle-grounds on which French and English had so often contended for the mastery. The way led by lakes and mountains, fertile flats, and deep [chap. XLV.] SIR JOHN BURGOYNE PUTS ON HIS ARj\[OUR. 253 rals were il Fraser, ser, who, re for so lill, after House of restored. ) small a -ns, Wal- iedesel — ble teeth 2nts, and Every- foj lowed laughter. ibr a long mself in He was /hen his itted his It was ruel fun led The the gen- a brave glorious foolish le in its ne — for 3ed him ignancy by the 1 so to John on was w-room I which astery. d deep valleys, through dark forests, along gi'cat rivers, through districts sometimes populous and cultivated, and sometimes inhabited only by wild animals and wilder red men. The little stone church of each village that they passed had often been turned into a citadel, wherein the men had defended their wives and children from the terrible Mohawks and Oneidas. A large body of these warriors was attached to General Burgoyne's army, led by Sir John Johnson and Joseph Brant, the famous Sagamore of the Mohawks. The General harangued these noble savages at Crown Point. He carefully explained to them (as they stood or sat round with impassive faces, all feathered and painted, and wrapped solemnly in their blankets), that in this war they must not act up to their national tradi- tions — here the contending parties were of the same blood, and the loyal might even be confounded with the rebellious. Having thus exhorted the leopard to change his spots, Sir John moved down the country, driving Schuyler before him step by step towards Fort Edward. Schuyler meanwhile was not idle. He was too weak to fight till the arrival of the reinforcements which "Washington was hurry- ing up; but he could do much to gain time — and he did it. Time was everything ; if Burgoyne could once get down the Hudson to New York, the Colonies would be cut in two, and all would be lost. So while Sir John was haranguing the Six Nations on the amenities of civilised warfare, and denouncing the torture of prisoners, Schuyler was destroying bridges, felling trees, blocking roads, digging trenches, rendering creeks unnavigable, driving off cattle, destroying forage, and placing every possible obstacle in his enemy's way. More than this, he had a spy who had consented to run the awful risks of entering Burgoyne's service, and who brought him Burgoyne's despatches to Clinton, and Clinton's replies, which Schyuler was thus able to alter so as to ensure yet more delay. Lincoln was at Manchester, raising the militia of Vermont, and Arnold was already on the march. Delay was salvation. No one can have much observed the course of human affairs (whether on the great or the little scale), without having per- ceived a certain ebb and flow of Fortune's tide. " Misfortunes," says the proverb, " never come alone." One piece of ill-luck will sometimes seem to have broken the spell of good-luck — thereafter, everything goes wrong. Something like this happened to Sir John Burgoyne, as he I . I t ! I' lii k. h 254 A GREAT TREASON. [chap. marched on, flushed with success-to-be. We may be sure that these strange turns of fortune are not mere chance, but have their causes deep-rooted in the moral law of the universe ; but we cannot always trace the connection of cause and effect so clearly as here. The tragic death of a young girl was to put an end to the panic which Burgoyne was spreading, and to raise him mortal enemies out of the very ground ; it was the first small cloud which grew and grew until it covered all his sky. Burgoyne's old comrade Lee delighted to vent his misan- thropy in praising the fine breeding of the Mohawk chiefs who honoured him with their friendship ; but it was scarcely to be expected of the author of a genteel comedy that he should admire them. General Burgoyne did not love Mohawks and Oneidas, but he believed that a certain wild honour inspired the savage breast, and he trusted that a diligent study of the humane arts of European warfare would soften their manners. In this confidence, he remarked with satisfaction that the very same Indians who had destroyed poor Braddock (led by Lang- dale, who had commanded them on that terrible day) were now marching peacefully beneath his banners to annihilate the rebels. But even already his satisfaction was dashed by the perpetual anxiety in which they kept him, and he was further plagued by the Canadian interpreters, who could not always be trusted to interpret truly. He had got almost as far as Fort Edward by the end of July — moving at about the rate of a mile a day, and doubtless cursing Schuyler's ingenuity — when, one morning, a party of Indians brought into camp a very stout elderly lady, stripped to her chemise, who proved to be Mrs. Campbell, a cousin of General Eraser's, and a staunch loyalist. No woman in camp had a gown big enough, so the General lent the poor lady his own camp-coat, and a pocket handkerchief for a cap. She told how she and her young friend Miss M'Crea — who was that very morning to have gone down the river to join her brother — had been seized in their own house at Fort Edward by Indians, and were beiiig hurried off, when a negro boy gave the alarm, and a detachment of Provincials from the fort came out to the rescue. At the foot of an ascent, where the road divided, she had been parted from Jennie, and knew not what had become of her. Mrs. Campbell had hardly got thus far in her story, when another party of Indians came in — with Jennie's bloody scalp. The rest has been told many times, with various degrees of XLV.] SIR JOHN IJURGOYNE TUTS ON IIIS ARMOUR. 255 horror. Perhaps the least shocking version is the true one, and the fierce "Wyandot Panther" only took her scalp — as he protested — after she had been killed by a shot from her would-be rescuers. Mrs. Campbell was inclined to believe it — for Rurgoyne, to show himself in earnest, had promised a much larger reward for a living prisoner than for a scalp. But the truth is tragic enough. Jennie's brother was a Whig, and she was betrothed to Lieutenant David Jones — now serving in Burgoyne's army, and there present to behold her long dark hair dripping with her blood. The report spread, and was long believed, that he had sent the Indians to bring her into camp, knowing that her brother was about to take her away to Albany. This was not true ; but there can be no doubt that the poor girl had lingered at Fort Edward, in spite of her brother's urgent messages entreating her to return, in the hope of seeing her Tory lover. All the inhabitants were fleeing ; but Mrs. Campbell, as a loyalist and General Eraser's relative, had nothing to fear — and poor Jennie knew that along with General Fraser would come Lieutenant Jones, Most people know the end of the heart-rending story — how the poor young lieutenant, after indignantly denying that he had any part in the affair, asked lo resign his commission, and, being refused, deserted, taking with him that long tress of hair — which he had bought of the Indians — and never held up his head again. Sir John's horror was unfeigned. He wanted to punish somebody, but was taken aside by St. Lu(?, the other leader of the Indians, — Sir John had called him " a Canadian gentle- man of honour," — and informed that the " wild honour " of Sachems forbids the giving up of a culprit, and that if he is to be too extreme to mark iniquity, his savage allies will abandon him, and perhaps ravage Canada as they go. The General was by this time heartily sick of wild honour, but he was obliged to content himself with is^suing still more urgent restrictions. But no proclamations, or restrictions, or severity, could undo the effect of that deed. The British General had let loose these fiends on a Christian country, and poor Jennie M'Crea had an avenger in every man and woman who heard her story. The burning indignation which it aroused united the whole country in the resolve to resist to the last. 'it ? :. ti t i ii 256 A GREAT TREASON. [chap. CHAPTER XLVI. THE RELIEF OF FORT STANWIX. When, on one of the last days of July, General Arnold brought up his reinforcements, and joined Schuyler at Fort Edward, he found that General preparing to move down to Moses Creek, a little below, and affairs in a very critical state indeed ; and a few days after, in spite of all the hindrances wliich Schuyler had put in his way, Sir John Burpjoyne was at Fort Edward — where his army, with loud rejoicings, first beheld the river Hudson. Nor was this all. On the 3d of August, Colonel St. Leger, with Sir John Johnson and Joseph Brant, had in\ ested Colonel Gansevoort in Fort Stanwix, in the Mohawk Valley; and General Harkeimer, marching to his relief with some militia, was caught in a forest-ambush prepared by Brant — whose sister Molly, old Sir William's left-handed wife, had sent him word. Harkeimer . I his men had made a gallant stand, but not one would have f scaped, but for a storm of rain so violent that even the Indians could not fight until it ceased ; and before it ceased, Gansevoort, who had heard by a messenger that Harkeimer was coming, sent out Colonel Willett to make a diversion. But the slaughter was frightful — neighbours were there fighting against neighbours (for Tryon County was full of loyalists), and Harkeimer's own brother was commanding the Indians, who, as though maddened by this strife of brethren, surpassed them- selves in ferocity. Harkeimer was dead of his woimds, Johnson was threaten- ing Gansevoort with an Indian massacre, and Colonel Willett had crossed the Mohawk on a log, in a violent storm, and reached the camp at Stillwater — but not till the 12th — to beg for aid. Schuyler, who had already heard of the disaster of Oriskany, and was devising means to save the fort and the Valley of the Mohawk, instantly called a council-of-war. But the council hesitated — the array was too weak already — they dared not spare a detachment. If the head that wears a crown lies uneasy, a General does not sleep on roses. General Schuyler had fared almost as ill as Arnold himself. As a New Yorker, he was obnoxious to the [chap. XI, VI. J THE RELIEf OK FuRT STANWIX. 257 [ 'brought ward, he Creek, a I ; and a Schuyler idward — the river it. Leger, a Colonel i General itia, was 3se sister im word. t not one that even it ceased, [arkeimer on. But fighting ists), and ans, who, ^ed them- hreaten- Willett Drm, and -to beg )riskany, jy of the council ared not eral does ost as ill us to the New Eii,t,dand party; and Ids strict Dutch disciiillne did not commend liim to the insubordiiuite spirits of New llaiupHliiro. He had been a Commissioner, on the part of Kew York, on the much-vexed question of the Grants, and was detosted for this also by the New Hampshire grantees. All the Eastorii influence in Congress, led by the Adamses, was being exerted to supersede liim by Gates — who had been a Commissioner for New Hampshire, and who was, moreover, well versed in the practice of those arts of popularity which riiilip Schuyler dis- dained. Vexatious and malicious char;.'(\s had been brought against him. Dundcr-headed Vermont militiamen had written to Washington, to say that "on their consciences" they believed General Schnyler was a traitor, and had introdnced the small- pox into the army. He had even been accused if having .^old Ticonderoga, and ot having been paid in silver bullets fired into his camp ! More serious attempts than these had been made to poison Washington's ear, but all in vain. His health had for a time given way, and he had wished to resign his com- mand ; but Washington had persuaded him to stay and serve his country through good report and evil — and so he stayed. The council-of-war was held in Dirck Swart's house. The officers sat at a rude wooden table in the centre of the room, on which some ingenious person had amused his leisure by carving the effigy of a Hessian — brass cap, belt, sword, bayonet and all, and made more hiih^ous by various splashes of red. The ink-pot happened to be set on this foreign mercenary's stomach — so that as often as any of the assembled council dipped in his quill he seemed to be running him through — so at least it appeared to Noel's lively fancy, as he stood just within the door, having come to the council as General Arnold's aide, but modestly refraining from taking a seat, until Schuyler himself asked him somewhat brusquely, why lie stood'? Schuyler was walking up and down the room with long impatient strides, smoking furiously; every now and then he would snatch the pipe from his mouth and utter a word or two, but most often he muttered to himself, casting angry glances at the end of the table farthest from the place where Arnold sat. Arnold himself was silent — he had scarcely spoken a word since his brief greeting of Schuyler on his entrance ; but his eyes were restless, and his lips were set. Noel knew the signs well, and knew that his General was in a fume. He sat half-turned from the table, his arms clasped over the back of his chair, VOL. I. s 258 A GREAT TREASON. [chap. ; t watcliing Schuyler as be turned in his walk — with, however, many a swift glance towards the farther end of the room, where a group of officers were whispering together. Presently Schuyler spoke. " Are we to leave Gansevoort to his fate ? " he asked angrily. Noel saw Arnold's eyes flash, but he did not speak — he only turned himself on his chair, so as to be able to watch Schuyler. As he caught Noel's eye, he slightly shrugged his shoulders, with an almost imperceptible movement of his hand in the direction of the group of officers still laying their heads together at the other end of the table. One or two older men who sat on one side looked up from a map they were studying. Their grave anxious liices turned inquiringly towards Arnold. " It is a heavy responsibility. General," said one of them, " and demands the utmost prudence." And Arnold replied shortly — " Boldness is the best prudence sometimes;" and fixed his eyes again on Schuyler. " Will none of you speak, gentlemen 1 " asked Schuyler, facing round impatiently. " Are we to leave Gansevoort and his garrison to the tender mercies of Sir John Johnson and the Mohawks 1 You know my opinion ; but if you have anything to urge " He ivants to weaken the armi/" Noel heard the words distinctly, but did not know who had uttered them. Schuyler heard them too, and a dark flush dyed his sallow face, as he crushed his pipe between his teeth. But he controlled hi& rising passion, and said with dignity, raising his head, and looking at the group — not one of whom cared to meet his eye, — " Gentlemen, I take the responsibility on myself. Where is the Brigadier who will command the relief?" " I will ! " answered Arnold, springing up so impetuously that he upset his chair. " To-morrow morning early I will beat up for volunteers ! " 'fi 3|* 3|5 3J* ^P Wlien General Arnold with his nine hundred volunteers set out to the relief of Fort Stanwix, he said to Schuyler — ** You will hear of iny being victorious, or no more." But at Fort Dayton he held a council-of-war, at wiiich a friendly Oneida Indian told them that the enemy numbered seventeen hundred besides Tories — on hearing which, the council thought the attempt too hazardous, until the army should be reinforced. The General's manner of taking this greatly puzzled Noel, [CIIAP. lowever, Q, where angrily, -he only khuyler. ers, with direction er at the it on one 3ir grave of them, i replied and fixed Schuyler, voort and a and the anything who had ush dyed :th. But ', raising cared to )n niyself. petuously jly I will * iteers set [._-" You at Fort r Oneida hundred lught the )rce(l. lied Noel, XLVI.] THE RELIEF OF FORT STANWIX. 869 who expected to see him full into a rage. He heard his oflicerii' opinions almost in silence, merely saying absently, that the odds were great, and no precaution mu.^t be neglected. But his mind was evidently preoccupied; and as soon as the council rose, he desired Major Branxhnlm (who as aide-de-camp took that rank) to have Hon Yost Cuylcr sent for — and began to hastily draw up a proclamation. Hon Yost was a half-witted fellow — a Dutchman, of the Mohawk Valley — who had been seized at Mr. Justice Shoe- maker's house the night before, with Lieutenant Walter Butler of St. Leger's detachment. Being caught in the act of trying to persuade the inhabitants of German Flats to abandon the Provincial cause, and join the King's forces before Fort Stanwix, the lieutenant had been tried that morning by a court-martial, and sentenced to death. But many of the officers had known him when he was a law-student in Albany, so (unluckily for Cherry Valley) he was repiieved. Hon Yost's family were Tories, but his mother and brother had instantly hastened to Fort Dayton, to beg him off. The mother was a wild gipsy-looking creature, who most likely had Indian blood in her veins ; and she be- sought General Arnold with such frantic eloquence that the whole court was moved, — all but, as it seemed, the General himself, who sat listening to her — his chin propped on three fingers, while the forefinger rested on his cheek — as if he hardly heard her. Noel was much puzzled by his insensibility. Surely he did not mean to hang this poor half-witted wretch, when he had spared Butler ? " 'Tis not like him to strike the low, and spare the high," he thought. " Nor have I ever seen him unmerciful before." Meanwhile the General, breaking silence at last, was sternly telling the unhappy mother that it was such as her son who did such incalculable mischief, in carrying news and acting as go-betweens, and that he would make an example — heie he frowned so darkly, that she gave up hope, and ceasing her prayers, broke into loud weeping. " Provost, do your duty ! " said the General, rising — but before he left the court he beckoned to the Provost, and whispered in his ear. So now, when the General desired Hon Yost to be sent for. Major Branxholm made bold to say, — " I'll go this instant, sir, but I fear he may be hanged by now." " No ; he is not hanged," replied the General, with an odd 260 A GREAT TRE "SON. [chap. t . a smile. " I do not hang idiots. Send the three to me, and leave us alone." Not even to Noel did the General speak of what passed at this interview; all that he knew was that the mother and brother were taken back to the lock-up, while Hon Yost (after having had half-a-dozen shots fired through the skirts of his garments) was permitted to go, with a stern warning from the General at parting, to mind what he was about. And the same afternoon, the General said he shoui'l go on, council or no council, and repeated his favourite adage — that in war expedition is equal to strength. *p Tf ^P "^ ^P It was about noon of the next day, and Major Branxholm was riding beside his commander. The General had been obliged to borrow a horse of Colonel Lewis, as, by some chance, his own had not arrived, though his sister had sent them on weeks ago. The horse was a thoroughbred, almost black — a gallant high-spirited beast, and was named "Warren," after that beloved leader who fell on Bunker's Hill. The General had been Fpeaking much of Jospeh Warren, whose intimate friend he had beeu, and had complained indignantly that Congress had not, been more prompt in providing for his orphan children. He added that he believed the matter had now been attended to — but Noel knew that if it were so, it would be thanks to General Arnold. As they were still talking of this, a horseman came gallop- ing towards them — at sigh*-, of whom the General's dark countenance relaxed into a grim smile, as he said, very mean- ingly, — " I should not in the least wonder, Branxholm, but what this is an express from Gansevonrt, come to tell us the siege is raised. Hon Yost is half an idiot, 'tis true, but the other half of him is a very cunning fellow." "What, sir?" cries Noel. "Was that, then, why you seemed so implacable with him at first 1 " "If I'm not much out in my reckoning," returns the General, still with that grim smile, " we shall hear that the siege of Fort Stanwix was raised in the night, on a report of General Arnold's being at hand with two thousand men." And so it was. sf5 3|C 3^ ^ 3p When Arnold returned to camp (after being received with a salute of honour at Fort Stanwix), he found that Schuyler's ' [OHAP. me, and massed at ther and 3st (after ts of his from the the same council, 3dition is * Iranxholm had been le chance, ; them on black — a en," after eneral had ate friend , Congress a children. L attended thanks to me gallop- ral's dark i^ery mean- but what le siege is other half why you turns the ir that the report of XLVI.] THE RELIEF OF FORT STANWIX. 261 I len. » icived with Schuyler's enemies had triumphed, and that Gates reigned in his stead — appointed, however, directly by Congress, as Washington had declined to have anything to do with the matter. But there was more news than this. On the 15th of August, Sir John Burgoyne had sent Count Eaum and his Hessians to destroy the stores at Bennington. John Starke was there — having resigned and gone home to his farm last spring, in wrath at being passed over in a list of promotions. Starke had called out the militia, and fallen upon Baum in the forest, in the rainy dawn of a day so tempestuous, that the earth- works which Baum hastily cast up were washed down as soon as they were made. Meanwhile, from every township the Provincial railitia came pouring in, all eager to fight. " We iiave been called out very often, and never been led against the enemy yet," — say the people of Berkshire, with Parson Allen of Pittsfield at their head. " And if you don't let us figiit now, we won't come again." " Please the Lord to once more send us sunshine," says Starke, " and if I don't give you fighting enough, I'll never ask you to come again." The sun shone out of a cloudless sky next morning, and Starke kept his word. At daybreak on the 17th, General Burgoyne was awakened to be told that Baum was defeated and slain, and that Breyman, who had been sent to reinforce him, was trying to retreat, hotly pursued by the enemy. This was a great blow. If the loss of Ticonderoga had struck the rebels with panic, the victory of Bennington put them in such heart that their Generals could hardly keep them back. Tiie British army began to be harassed by skirmishers, who cut off the pickets, and attacked the parties engaged in repairing the bridges which Schuyler had broken down. By this time, a great number of the Indians had slipped away ; the British General's illiberrlity in the matter of plunder and scalps had outraged their "wild honour," and having vainly tried to make him hear reason, they remembered that it was harvest-time, and departed to their wigwams — not going empty away. * * * ♦ * General Arnold was now to suffer more tangible evils from the refusal of Congress to give him his proper rank and position. The cabals in Congress had never run higher than now. Lee's star had set for the timC; but Gates's was in the ascen- IT, ii ; ( I t 262 A GREAT TREASON. [chap. dant. How strong his influence was, no one knew precisely — whispers had got about that some of the greatest names in Congress were with him. But Washington's advice could not be entirely disregarded — Congress had ungraciously yielded so far as to request Arnold to " co-operate " with Schuyler, and so great was his anxiety to serve, that he accepted this nondescript and unrailitary commission. He had hardly, however, reached camp, when he heard that Congress had decided against his seniority. His first impulse had been to resign, but his old friend Schuyler had persuaded him to follow his own example, and swallow the aff'ront for the sake of his country. As long as Schuyler was in command, this was easy, but with the arrival of Gates Arnold's position became almost intolerable. Horatio Gates might fairly be described as being everything that Philip Schuyler was not. He was by birth an Englisiiman, and a godson of Horace Walpole's — some said that the second half of the word would have sufficed to express the relationship, but as Gates was only twelve years the younger, there must have been some error in this bit of scandal. Like so many other leading actors in the war, he had been with Braddock at the Great Meadows, but had sold out of the army, dissatisfied Avith his promotion. His enemies said that years of solicitation had taught him to wheedle and flatter, and be all things to all men. He had retired to Virginia, a disappointed man, and had there renewed his old soldier's iriendsbip with Washington, and when the war broke out had espoused the Provincial cause. He had long been secretly mauonuvring to supplant Washington, and he thought that he had now almost succeeded. In the former Canadian campaign. Gates and Arnold had been friendly ; but Gates was beginning to count Washington's friends as his own enemies — and some said he was afraid lest Arnold's brilliant daring should eclipse his own generalship. I . He was now nearly fifty, and looked much older — a stout florid -complexioned man, rather comely than otherwise, but fussy and excitable in manner — as great a contrast in person as in character to the high-minded soldier and gentleman whom he had supersedc^ ^ reinforced. But Morgan sounded his " turkey-call " loud and shrill, and gathered his men again ; and by this time Arnold, with the New York troops, was trying to turn the enemy's flank, and cut off Fraser from the main army. So dense was the forest, and so uneven the ground, that neither party knew that each was attempting the same manoeuvre, until they suddenly met on the level ground near Mill Creek. Arnold led the van — as those who saw it said, "like a tiger." With voice and action he encouraged his men ; but he was outnumbered, and Fraser, seeing his design, brought up Breyman's riflemen and some infantry. Just then Arnold, rein- forced by Dearborn's regiment and three others, attacked again, so furiously, that the British lines were beginning to give way — when Phillips, who had heard the din of the conflict, hurried over the hills and through the thick woods, with fresh troops, and part of the artillery, and appeared in the very nick of time. There was a lull. It was three o'clock. The combatants were on two gently-sloping hills, separated by a thick wood and a narrow learing. Noel, returning from headquarters, whither he had been sent to ask for more reinforcements, could hear the voices of the British oflicers giving orders on the opposite height. He even fancied that he distinguished Fred Digby's voice, but this was surely fancy. General Gates sent word that the British left was too near his lines — he dared not detach any troops. Arnold angrily asked if he was to make bricks without straw 1 And then the enemy began to open fire again. Burgoyne had ordered the woods to be cleared ; and the Provincials soon saw column after column of British infantry advancing steadily across the clearing. For f-^ur hours, the conflict raged in alternate advance and retreat, u id the contending armies measured their strength in sheer liard wrestling. The Generals on both sides exposed themselves like common soldiers. One of Burgoyne's aides was shot down as he was giving him a letter, and it was believed for hours by the Provincials that Burgoyne himself had fiillen. All through the afternoon, and far on into the twilight, the two armies wrestled — cannon were taken and retaken, and taken again. And still victory hung in the balance — the British troops fought with stubborn valour, and even in the [CHAI'. XLViii.] A GLOOMY VIEW OF THE SITUATION. 267 •ne — and sounded n again ; as trying he main ground, he same ind near "like a ; but he )ught up old, rein- ed again, re way — , hurried h troops, of time. iTibatants ck wood quarters, its, could 3 on the icd Fred too near angrily then the ered the column ross the ince and ength in exposed ides was believed fallen, ght, tlie en, and ce — the in the gloom of evening there were some brisk renewals of the action. But Gates, though not himself engaged, would send no more reinforcements. In vain had Arnold despatched message after message. The evening was gray, when Noel rode back once more with the old answer — the Commander-in-Chief dared not expose his own lines. " He will fling away all we have won, with his paltry prudence!" cries Arnold, on hearing this reply. "I'll go myself ! " And so he gallops off on the good gray horse he rode that day — now covered with dust and foam — and is lost in the smoky mist. Noel waited long, watching the field, where every now and then a nmning fire would blaze out for a moment, and then as suddenly cease. On the extreme left, he could at first make out Breyman's rifles, by the brass match-cases on their breasts, gleaming feebly in the fast-fading light ; but soon friend and foe were wrapt in one monotonous cloak of gray, which was fast turning to black when an order came to retire within the lines. Before this, however, Noel, fancying he heard something stirring in the wood on his right, rodu towards it. As he came into the shadow of the trees, he dismounted, and leading his horse, looked about him. Several bodies lay just there, and a groan testified that there was life in at least one of them. Noel was just turning away to get help to remove him, when he saw a figure leaning fonvard against a tree, grasping a musket. It was not yet so dark but that at these close quarters lie saw that it was Meshach Pike. He called him by his name, but Meshach did not reply. Perplexed by this strange silence, Noel went nearer, and pulled him by the sleeve. At the touch, slight as it was, Meshach fell heavily against him, almost knocking him down by the suddenness of the shock — and Noel ^jund that he was holding a dead man in his arms. CHAPTER XLVIII. LIEUTENANT PEEKINS TAKES A GLOOMY VIEW OF THE SITUATION. Captain Digby, in command of a picket on the field of battle, spent the night of the 19th in a state of iuteuse disgust with 268 A GREAT TREASON. [chap. fn human affairs. The best -contested engagement of the whole war had been fought, and the Light Infantry (into which, by Lord Percy's influence, he had exchanged) had not taken part in it. True, the result was indecisive, and his turn might yet come. But what opportunities had not been presented to-(hiy for a determined officer (and the Captain was modestly conscious of a very stiff determination when once fairly roused) to make a smart flank-attack, throw the enemy into confusion, and get mentioned in the General's next despatch, as "a gentleman whose services merited particular notice " ! There had been a good many such movements made in the course of the day — but alas ! the Light Infantry, though forming part of the right wing, had never been actually under fire. The night was cloudy, and a sulphurous mist hung over the field, where burying -parties might be traced by the lights they carried. More than onco, Digby heard the howling of wolves in the forest, as they followed the scent of blood. The sound recalled to him his summer in Virginia — when it had seemed as thougl. Fortune was going to make up to him for the ill turns she l.ad done him. How admirably well things might have gone I And how execrably ill thoy had gone ! Upon the whole. Captain Digby reflected that he did not like this country for fighting. There was too much cover for the enemy (who of course knew every bush) ; while, in the event of anything like a repulse, it would be a monstrous awk- ward thing to be entangled in all this wood. "A fine open plain, with plenty of room to manoeuvre," he thought, " that's the kind of place for a regular army to come to an engagement in. These woods and thickets may be all very well for Indian warfare, but artillery and cavalry want more room to play in." The thought of cavalry reminded the Captain of his hard fate in belonging to a foot regiment, and of the mysterious ill fortune which seemed to attend him. ** It is certainly a monstrous odd thing," he thought (listening ad the while for any sign that the enemy was moving), " that my poor uncle should die just when there was going to be the very devil to pay — to be sure, if he'd died before though, the poor old dad might have made ducks and drakes of it all. Then there's Ally. How the doose is she to get married, till this confounded business is over*? And by all on*: can see it wLl go on till Doomsday. We've beat in all the barttles — but what's the good of that, when the rebels go on rebexiing the same a» ever 1 I [chap. XLViii.] A GLOOMY VIEW OF THE SITUATION. 269 lie whole fc^hich, by ikcn part [light yet 3(1 to-day conscious to make , and get an whose n a good but alas ! ving, had Jy, and a g- parties lian once, ' followed immer in 1 going to n. How execrably ! did not cover for 3, in the ous awk- ine open "that's ^agement )r Indian ay in." his hard erious ill listening that my the very poor old n there's founded J on till the good !ver ? I thought when we'd once beat, there'd be an end of it — a general pardon, or something of that sort — let bygones be bygones, and give a man a chance of attending to liis private afltiiis." At this point in his reflections, the entirely irrelevant thought occurred to Captain Digby that by this time Mary Fleming might be married to Jasjier " You was asleep, sir ! I've had my eye on you these ten minutes ! " The Captain addressed these words to one of the sentinels, who was leaning against a tree in an attitude suggestive of drowsiness. " Dv'u't let mo catch you at it again, sir ! " says Digby, cutting short the man's protestations, and continuing his patnd and his n>(Wti«Mi8. He imparti^d \\ portion of these leflcctions n^ext day to his friend Lie\itouant Peikuts (whose regiment had been likewise out of the a\'tu>n, and who ugri-cl with him that it was a prei)osterouH thing the rebels did lot lay dates had Id on the ticing the gh it was spatch to 3 through eneral to ) much as esign — to the consternation of the army. This, however, being precisely what Gates desired, he only became more insolent than ever, and one evening went so far as to tell Arnold that he did not know of his being a Major-(Teneral — he had resigned his commis- sion before he joined that army. He added that General Lincoln would arrive in a day or two, and that he shoiUd then have no occasion for Arnold, and could give him a pass for Philadelphia. Maddened by this insult, Arnold had gone back to his own quarters and written to Gates, demanding a pass for himself and his suite — for his aides had declared they would go with him. Major Livingstone, one of them, had been Schuyler's aide, and Mr. Wilkinson had hinted to Arnold that the General felt some natiu'al jealousy of a partisan of Schuyler's ; perhaps if Major Livingstone was to be replaced " No, sir ! " replies Arnold, looking indignantly at the smirking Wilkinson. " Such a proposition is a worse insult than any that General Gates has put upon me yet ! You can tell him, sir, if you choose, that I will not sacrifice a friend to please the ftice of clay ! Tell him, too, that I will have a pass made out in proper form ; I've already sent him back by Major Branxholm the letter to Mr. Hancock in which he has huddled me in a corner." Meanwhile all the general-officers in camp had signed an entreaty to General Arnold to remain, as another action was expected daily — the British General would not dare to wait until his provisions were exhausted. This argument was so strong, that Arnold stayed — even though, when Lincoln arrived. Gates gave him the right wing, and, taking the left himself, made good his words about having no occasion for Arnold. " Oh, that Schuyler was here 1 " said Noel to Major Living- stone. "But Gates must be very sure his intrigues have suc- ceeded, before he would dare depose the General that His Excellency was so set on appointing ! 'Twas a shameful thing to send him here to reap the fruit of Schuyler's labours — and now he will reap the credit of General Arnold's valour ! There's no justice in the world ! " " Gates is an old fool," rejoins Livingstone ; *' but that pert young fool Wilkinson makes him a thousand times worse than he would be else. He is Gates's creature, and has persuaded him he is a Marlborough. However, if my being out of the way will appease him, and promote General Arnold's remaining, I'll go to-morrow." ***** VOL. I. T I\ ■ t I 1 \i I li r ^ c^ 274 A GREAT TREASON. [chap. Captain Digby had long before this (at infinite pains) pro- cured himself some walnut-juice, with which he intended, when the time should arrive, to transform the natural ruddiness of his countenance into a good mahogany brown, such as is acquired by perseverance in agricultural pursuits. He had also obtained a long-waisted blue coat turned up with sun -bleached buff, Avhich met upon his brenst for the space of a single button, and thence retreating, displayed a red waistcoat, which had been cut when George the Second was King. A pair of superannuated sherry-vallies completed this costume, and cost the Captain no little trouble to get into them — he being accustomed to knee- breeches only. These garments, which had belonged to a soldier of one of the New Hampshire regiments engaged on the 1 9th, Captain Digby had bought of a camp-follower, who had become l)ossessed of them in the manner usual to those human vultures. They were all a thought tight for him, but he had been so for- tunate as to procure a pair of coarse leather shoes which fitted liim as comfortably as if he had already worn them six months. The walnut-juice was too precious to be wasted in rehearsals, but he had tried on the garments in presence of Lieutenant Perkins, who considered that the disguise was complete, or would be so, when the walnut-juice came to be added. " Ton my soul, Digby, nobody'd ever thiiik as you was a gentleman — 'pon my soul, nobody wouldn't!" he exclaimed admiringly. " Yes, that's right — slouch just a leetle more; don't hold up your chin too high ; and for God's sake remember to turn your toes in ! Though, to be sure," he added, with his head very much on one side, the better to observe the eftect, "you could always say as you'd served in a milishy regiment — per- haps, on the whole, 'twould be better to go in for the Canadian reb — I mean Whig. By the bye, perhaps we'd better practise calling 'em Whigs, lest you should ever let t'other word slip out by mistake." " Patriot's the proper word," observed Fred, endeavouring to move with rustic clumsiness. " Don't overdo it ! " cries his master of deportment. " I should strongly advise you to go in for being a reb — a patriot niilishyman — that'll allow you to have a military air. I'm af-fraid you'll never (ju-ite get ritl of your military air," con- tinued the Lieutenant slowly, with a critical frown. " So you'd better account for it naturally, by saying you're in the Provin- cial army. By the bye, I s'ppose you'll have your despatches so as you could swallow 'em if you was forced to 1 " [chap. ius) pro- id, when diness of acquired obtained led buff, :ton, and been cut annuated ptain no to knee- a soldier he 19th, i become vultures, en so for- ich fitted : months, ehearsals, ieutenant iplete, or ou was a xclaimed ; don't ember to his head ct, "you nt — per- Canadian practise slip out javounng ent. " I a patriot lir. I'm lir," con- So you'd e Provin- espatches XLIX.] A RECONNOITRING PARTY. 275 "I am to take none," says Fred, going warily through various leg-and-arm exercises, by way of making himself at home in his clothes. " Sir Harry knows me, so there's no need. I daresay I shall have to bring something back — that's if I go. 'Tis my belief that General Burgoyne wants to fight it out with- out help ; 'twould mean a coronet for him, if we smashed up the Provincials here, got down to New York, stamping out the rebellion a^ we went, and then beat Washington on the Dela- ware. I must get the sergeant's wife to let out this sleeve an inch or so, or I shall split it, to a dead certainty." So sajdng, Captain Digby motioned to his friend to assist him in divesting himself of his coat, bidding him for God's sake pull gently. But greatly to his relief, General Burgoyne seemed to have forgotten him. Captain Campbell departed secretly on the 28th with despatches for Clinton — which did not, however, represent the situation as absolutely desperate ; Burgoyne had sent home so glowing an account of his success at Ticonderoga that it was galling indeed to speak of even falling back. Mean- while, if he had but known it, the rebels had had only forty rounds of ammunition left, on the evening of the 1 9th ! If he had but known it, and had renewed the battle early next morning, before a supply came in ! And in the long course of history how many such Ifs have there not been ! He did not know this, and he did not know something else — something which, in the Record of Blunder, stands out, one would hope, as unique as it is certainly almost incredible. Burgoyne did not know, that at the very moment when he was anxiously calculating on how near Sir Henry Clinton might be, and buoying himself up with the hope of at any instant hearing his guns on the enemy's flank, the despatch ordering Clinton to march northwards was lying, neatly docketed and tied up with red tape, in a pigeon-hole at Lord George Ger- maine's office at Whitehall ! His lordship had been going egin the I hiin;3elf ', ruffling I..] GENERAL ARNOLD DOES SOMETHING RASff. u t like a turkey-cock, and glancing at Wilkinson to see if he is doing right, — " I have nothing for you to do, and you have no business here ! " " I think, gentlemen," says Arnold to his aides, " that in that case we had better go," and departs forthwith to his own quarters, in a towering rage ; and presently the battle begins without him. Morgan had requested to be allowed to take the heights on tlie enemy's right, where Fraser was advancing with five hun- dred picked men. Poor and Learned were to attack Ackland and his Grenadiers. It was half-past two in the afternoon as they marched up the sloi^e, in deathly silence, and the game began at once in earnest ; but the British fire rained high over the heads of the Provincials, and at first did tliem little harm. After a stubborn struggle at the brow of the slope, the Provincials charged among the cannon, and took and re-took one gun four times. The last time. Colonel Cilley leapt on it, and, waving his sword above it, dedicated it to the patriot cause. Major Ackland, severely wounded, was made prisoner, as his friend Captain Simpson was trying to carry him off the field on his back. Major Williams, who commanded the artillery, was also taken, and the artillerymen and grenadiers gave way. Morgan's fierce onset had driven back even Frtuser for the moment ; but the centre, rallying under Balcarres, held firm. General Burgoyne, himself in the thickest of the fight, did his utmost to strengthen his centre, where Colonel Specht and his Germans were being pressed hard. And so the battle raged all along the British centre, while Eraser on his gray horse was always in the front. At that moment, there was a great shout all along the Amerioan line of " Arnold ! Arnold ! " It rang above the din and roar of the battle — and so did Arnold's voice, crying. — " Come on ! come on ! Victory or death ! " CHAPTER L. GENERAL ARNOLD DOES SOMETHING RASH. Ever since Gates dismissed him in the morning, Arnold has been fuming in his tent, sending one or other of his aides to bring him word how the day is going ; until at last, when the roar of battle reaches him, he can endure it no longer, and orders Warren to be saddled. ij 278 A GREAT TREASON. ■1 fi [chap. But the soldiers, " I'll fight in the ranks ! " he says. God bless them ! will follow in my lead ! " As the great black horse and his rider giillop towards the front, General Gates sees them go, and instantly despatches Major Armstrong to order Arnold back, — " lest he should do something rash," says the General, all of a pucker. So Armstrong mounts, and gallops off in pursuit, but soon loses sight of horse and rider, as they plunge into the battle. But though Major Armstrong could not overtake Warren, Noel Branxholm kept close beJiind his General, until they reached the front, and heard the mighty shout which greeted Arnold, and saw the wavering line of battle gather itself together, ready to follow him to death or victory. Arnold put himself at the head of Learned's brigade, and led it against the British centre. He fought like a madman, and at his second charge the terrible Hessians broke and fled. But even then Fraser rallied them, and set his line once more in array. But then Morgan called his best marksmen round him, and asked them if they saw that gallant officer on the iron -gray gelding. "That is General Fraser," says Braddock's old wagoner. " I admire and honour him — but it is necessary he should die." Presently afterwards, there comes a perfect hail of shot about the iron-gray horse, and an aide begs Fraser to withdraw a little, as he is evidently a mark. But he refuses — and five minutes afterwards falls, shot through the body. With Fraser's fall, a panic seized the whole British line. Burgoyne sent Sir Francis Gierke to order a retreat, but he fell mortally wounded before he could deliver the order, and the moment for a successful retreat was lost, as Arnold formed his men and lead them again to the charge. Amidst the flame and smoke, and hail of whistling bullets, Arnold on the great black horse thundered along the line. His voice rang like a trumpet above the battle, still bidding the Provincials conquer or die. The memory of his wrongs, and the thirst for the glory which Gates had tried to snatch from him, goaded him to almost superhuman exertions. He returned to the charge again and again, and with part of Patterson's and Glover's brigades, led the assault on the works still held by Balcarres and the light infantry. At the point of the bayonet, he drove them from a strong abatis, and mac^e a desperate attempt to storm the camp. But the light infantry made a stand as desperate. It was after sundown ; Major Armstrong, who had [chap. soldiers, ^ards the 3spatches ihould do but soon battle. 1 Warren, [itil they ti greeted 'together, gade, and [man, and led. But e in array, him, and iron -gray ock's old cessary he 1 of shot withdraw —and five itish line. )ut he fell and the ormed his Lg bullets, ine. His flding the ongs, and itch from returned son's and held by lyonet, he attempt stand as who had I.] GENERAL ARNOLD DOES SOMETHING RASH. 279 now been for two hours vainly trying to get near liini, saw Arnold suddenly dash forward to the enemy's right llauk, ex- posed to so terrible a cross-fire that he gave up the chase. As Arnold went, he met Learned's brigade, and gathering up them, and every other brigade he found, he hurled himself once more against the enemy — this time, at an opening in the abatis, be- tween Balcarres's light infantry and Breyman's German reserve. The Canadians and loyalists were here. Arnold came up like a whirlwind, and before the incredible fury of his onslaught the defenders at last gave way, and the abatis was carried at the point of the bayonet, as Breyman fell mortally wounded. In that scene of blood and slaughter. Captain Digby, just within the abatis, and resolutely disputing every inch of ground, saw an officer's horse shot under him, and in the uncertain light, and the confusion of the assault, thought it was Arnold himself. The officer waved his sword, and rushed on. The ground was encumbered with wounded and dying men, and knee-deep in blood and mire, and the assailants were pouring in at the opening in the abatis — but the works themselves might still be defended, and Bigby, desperately rallying a hand- ful of the infantry, threw himself between the enemy and the sally-port, making straight for the dismounted officer. He was ill the very act of cutting him down, before he saw that it was Noel Branxholm, whose sword had shivered in his hand. Digby instinctively turned the flat of his own sword, or that moment would have been Noel's last ; but even so the blow descended on his head with a force which felled him to the ground. " You hound ! " cried Digby. striking up a loyalist's bayonet, " would you strike a wounded man 1 " His words were lost in the din. Arnold was at that in- stant ordering a general assault ; and Digby fell slowly back, hoping that the infantry might yet rally once more — but the Provincials came on with an impetuous rush, which carried everything before them, and the entrenchment was turned. Digby saw that reckless rider on the gallant black horse dash- ing madly on into the sally-port, and then he himself was caught in the irresistible wave, and though but at the edge of it, was flung down, and, his head coming in contact with part of a gun-carriage, he lay half insensible to bodily pain, while perfectly aware of the sounds of conflict going on all around him. As Arnold and his brigade rushed within the sally-port, the Germans gave way, discharging a last volley as they retreated. The gallant Warren fell dead under his rider, and at the same w^ mmm mmmm I' !i r^' I « Wn )|t^ til,. r 280 A GREAT TREASON. [chap, instant, a German, lying woumlcd on the ground, fired point- blank at the General. The shot struck him above the left knee. " Rush on, my brave boys ! rush on ! " he cried, seeing that his fall was checking the pursuit. A Provincial soldier was imi- ning up to bayonet the German, but Arnold called out to him not to hurt him, for he had only done liis duty. As they are lifting the General from his dead horse, Major Armstrong comes up with Gates's order. He is too late to pre- vent Arnold from doing something rash ; but he comes in the very nick of time to help carry him off the field. Having handed him over to the surgeons, Armstrong returns to inform General Gates that the day is won, and finds him deep in an argument with poor Sir Francis Gierke — who has been brought in to die on the General's bed — about the justice of the quarrel between Great Britain and America, and very indignant at his obstinacy. "Did you ever hear such an impudent fellow?" says Gates (adding a more uncivil epithet still), as he steps briskly out, to hear in private what Armstrong has to say. Generation after generation reads of the deeds of Greek and Trojan, " Far on the distant plains of windy Troy ; " and, looking into the enchanted distances of Antiquity, imaginesj — according to the spirit of its age — either that there have been no heroes since Ajax and Diomede, or else that the heroes never lived at all save in a poet's dream. Yet the charge of Benedict Arnold at Saratoga is as Homeric as anything in Homer ; and the story of the two battles, and of the whole Canadian cam- paign, is as worthy to be told as the story of any of the wars of Greece or Rome. Vixerunt jpost Agamemnona fortes. END OF VOL. I. I k A 1 ; ■ ( i I N; rrintedhy R. & R. Clark, Edmbur^h. [chap. ed point- left knee. I that his was mu- lt to him se, Major ,te to pre- les in the Having to inform eep in an I brought le quarrel mt at his fellow?" he steps say. keek and imagmes) lave been oes never Benedict ner; and lian cam- the wars