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A Loyal Lass 
 
HISTORICAL BOOKS BY AMY E. 
 BLANCHARD. 
 
 Each fully illustrated, j 27110. Pj-ice $i.jo. 
 
 A GIRL OP '76. A Story of the Early 
 Period of the War for Independence. 
 
 A REVOLUTIONARY MAID. A Story 
 of the Middle Period of the ^Vaf for 
 Independence. 
 
 A DAUGHTER OF FREEDOM. A Story 
 of the Latter Period of the War for In- 
 dependence. 
 
 A HEROINE OF 1812. A Maryland Ro- 
 mance. 
 
 A LOYAL LASS. A Story of the Niag- 
 ara Campaign of 18 14. 
 
" '//".c oc/J: s/ic' saiJ, 'ami I like it''' 
 
A LOYAL LASS 
 
 A Story of the Niagara Campaign 
 of 1814 
 
 BY 
 
 AMY E. BLANCHARD 
 
 ILLUSTRATED BY 
 FRANK T. MERRILL 
 
 W. A. WILDE COMPANY 
 
 BOSTON AND CHICAGO 
 
Copyright, igo2, 
 By W. a. Wilde Company. 
 
 All rights reserved. 
 
 A Loyal Lass. 
 
^0 
 
 DOROTHEA HARRISON ALLEN 
 
 IN MEMORY OF OUR HAPPY DAYS 
 AT NIAGARA 
 
 A. E. B. 
 
Contents 
 
 CHAPTER 
 
 I. War Clouds .... 
 
 II. Across the River 
 
 III. A House Divided . 
 
 IV. New Friends 
 V. A Surprise for Royal 
 
 VI. Scheming .... 
 
 VII. An Exchange of Prisoners 
 
 VIII. Friend or Enemy 
 
 IX. A Little Fun 
 
 X. The Husking and What Folloa\ 
 
 XI. A Turning of the Tables . 
 
 XII. Trouble for Sue . 
 
 XIII. Runaways .... 
 
 XIV. Kate and Royal . 
 XV. Home No More . 
 
 XVI. Jerusha to the Rescue 
 
 XVII. Asa Again .... 
 
 XVIII. Sorrowful Hearts 
 
 XIX. Marianne Celebrates . 
 
 XX. Peace 
 
 7 
 
 PAGE 
 II 
 
 29 
 
 47 
 63 
 
 n 
 92 
 107 
 120 
 135 
 151 
 167 
 181 
 198 
 210 
 225 
 242 
 
 255 
 271 
 286 
 302 
 
 r/i575151 
 
Illustrations 
 
 PAGE 
 
 " ' It's odd/ she said, ' and I like it ' " . . Frontispiece 17 
 
 " She took one of his big strong hands in hers and stroked it 
 
 gently '' ' . . .57 
 
 '" • This ... is the young lady of whom you were telling me ' '^ 123 
 
 "• Each with her attendant cavalier, rode up the morning after 
 
 the capture " . . . . . . . . -173 
 
 " She had discovered a comfortably hollowed seat " . . 259 
 
A LOYAL LASS 
 
 • CHAPTER I 
 
 War Clouds 
 
 IT was getting dark in the woods which ran along 
 above the deep gorge through which whirled and 
 rushed the waters of the Niagara River, and Marianne 
 Reyburn unconsciously hurried her steps; for, though a 
 frontier lass and fearless to a degree, she was alive to 
 the dangers which lay hidden in the forest, and at this 
 particular time she felt a new apprehension, for there 
 were mutterings of a war with England, and that 
 meant — what, she hardly knew. It might include 
 other dangers beside the Indian horrors of which her 
 grandmother was always ready to tell her. Those tales 
 of the early settlements, of the days of Frontenac, of 
 the Seven Years' War, and of the "Hungry Year," were 
 what had fed her childhood's fancy, and even now she 
 listened to them with wide-open eyes and parted lips. 
 Canadian was this grandmother, and it was Marianne's 
 father who had come up out of the south with his 
 
12 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 parents. Marianne liked to hear him tell how they left 
 their Kentucky home in an emigrant wagon to settle in 
 Ohio, and how a few years later her father, a young 
 man of adventurous turn, had followed along the great 
 lakes till he found him a wife on the borders of Ontario, 
 and had finally made him a home near the little village 
 of Lewiston. 
 
 Fair of skin, blue-eyed, light-haired, Marianne was 
 like her father, though he was long-Umbed and muscu- 
 lar; from her French mother she had taken her petite 
 figure and her quick, animated movements. She was 
 half French, but as she ran along through the woods 
 her heart beat more loyally for her father's country 
 than for that land of her grandmother, on the other 
 side of the river. Her moccasined feet made little noise 
 as she followed the pathway before her. The sun was 
 low in the west, and was setting blood-red, so that it 
 flecked with a ruddy hght the trunks of the trees. '' It 
 is getting late; I must hurry," murmured the girl. 
 Suddenly she paused and her hand sought her belt. 
 She stood very still and listened, then with stealthy 
 tread she moved forward and with a catlike spring 
 swung herself up amid the branches of a large tree 
 near by. Stretching her slim body along a heavy limb, 
 she lay quite motionless, hidden by the leaves, her ears 
 alert for the slightest sound. 
 
 Presently down the pathway came two men talking 
 
WAR CLOUDS 13 
 
 earnestly. Marianne was very quiet after the first start 
 of surprise and the whispered word " Victor ! " which 
 accompanied it. One of the men wore the rough dress 
 of a habitant ; the other, in homespun, bore a pack on 
 his back, and Marianne decided him to be a Yankee 
 pedler. He was talking with the garrulity of one accus- 
 tomed to an audience. As the two approached nearer, 
 Marianne caught the words : " I sez, sez I : That's 
 neither here nor there. If we hev a war, it's every 
 man's dooty to fight for his country whether he's sartin 
 she'd ought to hev fit or no. Fur my part, I say she 
 hadn't oughter fight, but then I dunno as I'm capable 
 of jedgin' — mebbe she'd ought. At any rate, ef she sez : 
 Son, I want you should fight, I'll fight. I guess mebbe 
 I kin. I'm kinder curious about it; but there ! I'm the 
 curiousest fellow you ever did see, — always pryin' into 
 what's no consarn of mine." 
 
 The young Canadian eyed him, a Httle puzzled, then 
 seeing some reply was expected of him, he said, " For 
 me, no, I fight not." 
 
 " You don't say ? Wal, I dunno as you want to, but 
 then I dunno as you won't hev to, come to thet. Ef the 
 weepons of war are handy and your hairth and home 
 are invaded, I dunno, bein' a man, as you won't up and 
 fire a shot at somebody. Seems to me 'most any man 
 would. But there ! I dunno, mebbe you'd stand and 
 take it all." 
 
14 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 ** I ? Not I ! " cried Victor. " I defend, yes, I defend, 
 but I do not thrust myself, as it were, into the front 
 of the fighting." 
 
 " Mebbe you'll hev to. Seems to me you're going 
 to git the thick of it up here, if all I hear's correct. 
 I'm sellin' out my pewter mugs and plates with jest 
 that idee. Sez I, They'll come in handy, come time 
 you want bullets ; and it's an indoocement to buy. 
 I've got a few left right here; you wouldn't care to 
 take the hull lot cheap, would you } I'm wilHn' to let 
 'em go rather than lug 'em cross country." And the 
 man from Connecticut swung his load from his 
 shoulders preparatory to opening it. 
 
 The young Canadian laughed. " I do not buy, not I. 
 Not of the pewter mug, but if you have — " 
 
 ''A ribbon, or a few yards of calico.?" returned 
 the other, briskly. "Wal, I hev, though you don't 
 look like one that needs either one to commend 
 you," he added slyly. " But gals is gals, and it don't 
 do no harm to propitiate 'em." 
 
 Before the open pack the two squatted, while 
 Marianne, filled with inward mirth, watched them. 
 First a roll of bright caHco was displayed, next a gay 
 kerchief, then a string of beads, some yards of coarse 
 lace, and a bolt of ribbon. " Now, there you are," 
 said the pedler ; "that's as good a stock as you'd 
 find to Buffalo or anywhere else about. Goods is 
 
WAR CLOUDS 15 
 
 goin' to be fearful high on account of the war, and I 
 dunno as I sh'll ever be able to sell so cheap ag'in, — 
 allowin' that I do come 'round ag'in, which ain't likely." 
 He waited to see the effect of his words while Victor 
 eyed the array doubtfully. '' Dunno which she'd 
 like ? " continued the pedler. " I'll bet she'd like that 
 ribbon. She'll take to that, I'll be bound." 
 
 ''Oh, but I don't." There was a rustle in the 
 leaves overhead, a quick movement of something slid- 
 ing down the trunk of the tree, and Marianne stood 
 before the astonished pair, who started to their feet 
 at sight of her. " I don't care for that," the girl went 
 on. *' I would much rather have the neckerchief. 
 You meant me, didn't you, Victor.'^ You wouldn't 
 buy anything for any other girl, except Victorine or 
 me, would you.?" She clasped her hands around his 
 arm and looked confidingly up into his face. 
 
 "Wal, I vum ! " said the pedler. ''Where did you 
 drop from .'' " 
 
 " That tree," replied Marianne, with a toss of her 
 head toward the spreading branches. She laughed as 
 she saw that the look of astonishment had not left 
 the face of the younger man. " I surprised you, 
 didn't I, Victor ? Did you think me a wildcat when 
 I sprang into your midst ? " 
 
 He looked down at her admiringly. " No, not that, 
 Marianne. You could be but a kitten at best." 
 
i6 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 " And you meant to buy a ribbon for the kitten's 
 collar ? Well, I am not sure that I want it. Show 
 me what you have there," she said imperiously to the 
 pedler. 
 
 The man winked at Victor and held up the necker- 
 chief. 
 
 *' Is that the very prettiest thing you have in your 
 pack.''" the girl asked. "I want something else; 
 something that nobody else has ; something rare and 
 unusual. I am tired of seeing myself wearing what 
 every girl in Lewiston can have. I know you have 
 sold dozens Hke this. Confess, haven't you ? " She 
 smiled archly at the man, who grinned in response, 
 nothing abashed. 
 
 ** You're a peart little crittur," he said admiringly, 
 " and I dunno as I haven't sold quite a few of them. 
 But now, see here, I've got something that I ain't 
 ever shown to a woman soul, not sence I £:ot it, and 
 that wa'n't but jest yis'day ; got it from an Injun 
 squaw. Bless you, she had her heart sot on a few 
 yards of bright calico, and I ain't one to deny my 
 goods to women folks s'long as they've anything to 
 swop. Now, I call this pretty and sightly." He drew 
 from his pocket a quaint bracelet of curiously carved 
 stones linked together ingeniously. '' I don't guess 
 either of you ever saw a thing just like that. I 
 dunno's them stuns is perticklerly precious, but it's a 
 
WAR CLOUDS 17 
 
 sightly piece of work, and some folks east might give 
 me a pretty penny fur it. But there ! I dunno's 1 
 ain't willing to part with it right here." 
 
 Victor shot a quick look at Marianne, who was 
 examining the bracelet with much interest. *' It's 
 odd," she said, '' and I like it. I want it, Victor." 
 She slipped it over her wrist and held out her slender 
 young arm, her head to one side, and a critical expres- 
 sion upon her face. *' Yes, I hke it," she repeated. 
 " It isn't a bit bright, or shiny, or anything like that ; 
 in fact, it's rather dull-looking, and it's made of only 
 common little stones, but it's nothing like other people 
 wear. I like things that way. I don't want what 
 any one can have. I like the first strawberries because 
 they are scarce, and I like the last wild flowers be- 
 cause no one can get any more. I don't suppose 
 any one could get another bracelet just hke this." 
 
 Victor nodded to the pedler. "What will you 
 take for it.?" 
 
 "Wal," returned the man, considering, "seein's you 
 give me my supper and come this fur out of your 
 way to show me the path, I won't be hard on you. 
 I guess about five shillin's won't be overcharging. 
 Calico's going to be skeerce, and I guess I could hev 
 done better to hold on to what I hed, but there ! I 
 couldn't disa'pint that old Injun woman. I al'ays 
 am weak consarnin' weemen, — hed a mother myself, — • 
 
i8 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 and, though I ain't overfond of the redskins as a 
 rule, I hed to humor that old soul and let her have 
 that piece of calico." 
 
 " How big a piece was it? " Marianne asked sharply. 
 
 " Wal, I dunno as I kin tell you how much just to 
 an inch, but 'twas a sizable piece," he replied evasively. 
 
 Marianne looked doubtful. *' Who was the woman.? 
 Where does she live .'' " 
 
 " Oh, suz ! I can't tell ye jest who she is. Them old 
 squaws all look alike. But I'm telling ye the gospel 
 truth, as sure as my name is Asa Peaslee. I'll tell 
 ye what I'll do : call it five shillin's, and I'll throw in 
 the ribbon ; it's a yard good measure and true Scotch 
 plaid." 
 
 Victor's hand sought his pocket, for Marianne .made 
 no comment, and in a moment he had transferred 
 the amount to the pedler, and Marianne had her 
 bracelet. 
 
 **Wal," said Asa, cheerfully, "I'll go on my way 
 rejoicin'. I guess I'll reach the old fort by night, and 
 I'll hunt ye up if I come along this way ag'in. I may 
 be shoulderin' an unwieldy musket, but all the same 
 I'd like to see how that bracelet's wearin'. Moreover, 
 wherever my eyes gits a chance to be sot on a purty 
 gal, I 'low 'em the chance." He slung his pack over 
 his shoulder and trudged up the path, leaving Marianne 
 and Victor standing together. 
 
WAR CLOUDS 19 
 
 *' And now I will kiss you for my present, Victor," 
 said Marianne, and, suiting the action to the word, she 
 lightly touched her Hps to each of his cheeks, stand- 
 ing on tiptoe to do so, although Victor himself was 
 below medium height. "Now come," she said, *'we 
 must hurry, for it is growing late. Tell me, is it true 
 that we shall have war.? I don't understand much 
 about it, but my father will fight for the States, of 
 course ; and you, Victor ? " 
 
 " I shall not fight ; for I do not love England, and I 
 am French, I am Canadian. I am loyal enough to my 
 government, but I have no quarrel anywhere." 
 
 " I am glad of that. I wonder what grandmother 
 will say, and — I hope it will not be, for it is all very 
 silly. You will not go back to-night, Victor ? " 
 
 " No, I thought I could perhaps row you over in the 
 morning. Your grandmother wished it so." 
 
 *' Then I will go. I wish to show her and Victorine 
 the bracelet. The ribbon — I do not know just what I 
 shall do about the ribbon. You were very good to get 
 these things for me. Did I scare you when I dropped 
 down so suddenly ? I had hidden myself there when 
 I heard you coming, for this talk of war made me feel 
 less secure, and I did not know who might be prowHng 
 around the woods. I was so glad it was you." 
 
 " Marianne ! " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
20 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 " Nothing ; yet if I were to go to the war, you 
 would be sorry ? " 
 
 " Of course. What a foolish question ! I shall be 
 sorry if my father goes. He declares he will, and 
 mamma shuts her ears — so, and shakes her head when 
 he speaks of it. Yet, I shall side with him. I always 
 do, poor mamma says ; but I tell her that she sides 
 always with my brother, and so why should I not ? I 
 am a Reyburn, though my mother is a Desvouges. 
 I am like my father, am I not, Victor.'' Say I am." 
 
 " You have his blue eyes and brown hair and are like 
 him in feature, but you are little, like your mother, and 
 have many of her ways of moving your hands and 
 head." 
 
 " I wish I were tall, like my father. Why did Royal 
 have all the height of the family.'' He could easily 
 spare me an inch or two and not miss it, and he is not 
 like my father in anything else. Still, I should be glad 
 of my blue eyes." 
 
 *' And you do not like dark eyes, Marianne ? " 
 
 " Not for myself. I don't mind them in other 
 people," she replied cheerfully. 
 
 '' I am glad of that, else I should stand a poor chance 
 of being admired." 
 
 Marianne laughed. "As if you wanted me to 
 admire you, stupid old Victor. Why this is, I cannot 
 tell, but when one has been used to seeing a person 
 
WAR CLOUDS 21 
 
 all her life, she cannot tell how he looks. Now, you 
 see, I cannot remember the time when I did not know 
 you, and if, let me see — if Rose Maury should come 
 and say to me : Do you think Victor handsome ? I 
 should say. How can I tell ? I know he is a dear, good 
 fellow, as a son to my grandmother, as a brother to my 
 mother, as an uncle — not uncle either — as a — an 
 elder brother to me ; and as for his looks, I never think 
 of them." She looked mischievously at him, nodding 
 her head. " But I know what Rose would say." 
 
 Victor did not reply, but switched the leaves away 
 from beneath their feet. 
 
 " You feel so, too, no doubt," Marianne went on. 
 '* If Rose or — or Leon or some of the boys were to 
 ask you if you thought me pretty, you could not tell } " 
 She looked at him inquiringly. 
 
 Victor laughed. " Fishing for a compliment, Mari- 
 anne ^ I will not tell you." 
 
 " Oh, you will not hurt my feelings, I assure you." 
 
 *' No, I suppose not." 
 
 *' But you do feel just that way ? " 
 
 " Not just that way. I think I could express an 
 opinion." 
 
 '' Oh, and — you will not tell me ? " 
 
 " Marianne," — he turned and stood in front of her, 
 taking her two hands in his, and swinging them to- 
 gether lightly, — " you know as well as you can know 
 
22 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 anything that I have told you a hundred times that I 
 think you are adorably pretty. You know it." 
 
 *' I do not. I didn't know but that you'd changed 
 your mind ; you haven't told me so for a long, long 
 time, and one changes. My grandmother told me only 
 last week that I had changed, and that a girl at sixteen 
 is often quite different from a woman grown. Some- 
 times, she said, a really pretty girl grows up to be a 
 hideous old woman, so — " 
 
 '* You are so nearly an old woman that you thought 
 you might be in danger of becoming hideous } " Victor 
 asked mockingly. 
 
 " No ; but how do I know that I do not change .? " 
 
 " You do not look quite as you did when you were 
 a little girl." 
 
 *' I am more — " 
 
 " Yes, more — " 
 
 " What you said just now } What was it ? " 
 
 " No, Marianne, I will not repeat it. Once a day 
 is enough. Your grandmother long ago bade me not 
 to feed you on sweets. See, we are out of the woods 
 now, and the Hghts begin to twinkle from the houses. 
 We are quite late." 
 
 " And I am very hungry ; are not you } " 
 
 "Very." 
 
 *'I forgot to ask. Did you come out to find me?" 
 
 " Not altogether. I came to show the pedler the 
 
WAR CLOUDS 23 
 
 way to the fort. He will sleep there to-night, and 
 go on to Buffalo to-morrow." 
 
 By this time they had emerged from the woods, 
 and the roaring of the cataract came less distinctly 
 to their ears, though the river rushed toward the lake 
 with tremendous swiftness as it broadened out after 
 its maddening whirl. Where the cliffs ended, the 
 village of Lewiston appeared on the American side, 
 while opposite, the heights of Queenston frowned. 
 Marianne stood still* for a moment, looking from the 
 steep cliff to the roofs below her. Here were grouped 
 the warehouses which held the goods brought by the 
 lake boats, and stored' there awaiting shipment, east 
 or west. Here, too, were comfortable dwellings of the 
 villagers, becoming more and more scattered as the 
 town stretched off into the fertile country. 
 
 "About this war, Victor," said the girl, after a long 
 pause, " will it come here .? " 
 
 " It is reported so, yet who knows ? One cannot 
 tell. Think of it no more, Marianne, but enjoy the 
 present. It will be a fine day to-morrow, I think, and 
 we shall enjoy our trip across the river." 
 
 "Perhaps. Who can tell that, either.? One may 
 have a headache or be triste. It is not well to count 
 on the future," she added demurely. 
 
 Victor laughed. " Since when did Marianne Rey- 
 burn consider the future ? " 
 
24 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 " Since a moment ago," she returned, laughing in 
 her turn, and beginning to descend the steep path 
 toward the village, a little beyond which stood her 
 father's farmstead. A light twinkled from one of the 
 windows before they had reached the house, and 
 Marianne gave a sigh of satisfaction. " That means 
 that supper is ready, but," she added, " it also means 
 that I shall get a scolding for being so late. To be 
 sure, they do not need help in matters of cookery, 
 yet my mother will say I neglect my duties. Help 
 me out, Victor, with some startling tale of adventure 
 to spare me much blame." 
 
 As they stepped into the big kitchen, savory odors 
 arose from a huge kettle hanging over the fire, for 
 Mrs. Reyburn followed the fashion of her own people 
 and served soup at least twice a day, even in 
 summer. 
 
 ** Ah me, but that smells good ! " exclaimed Mari- 
 anne. 
 
 "And well it may," returned her mother, sharply, 
 " since you have not had a hand in it. Gadabout, 
 where have you been ? Not a sign of you since mid- 
 day." 
 
 "Victor and I met a pedler," returned Marianne, 
 evading the question. " See, mamma, what a curious 
 bracelet Victor got for me. Is it not odd and fan- 
 tastic? Oh, yes, and what was it the pedler said 
 
WAR CLOUDS 25 
 
 about the war, Victor ? That it was sure to come ; 
 and will father go ? and Royal ? " 
 
 Her mother paused, ladle in hand. '' War ! Alas, 
 there is much talk of it, and it will divide famihes 
 and lay waste the land. You surely are not thinking 
 of going soldiering, Victor ? " 
 
 " Not unless I needs must." 
 
 *' Good ! " returned Mrs. Reyburn, approvingly. 
 " That is what I say. Go, call your father, Mari- 
 anne." 
 
 Glad of escaping her scolding, Marianne ran out. 
 It was still a little light, for the summer was upon 
 them. The girl went to the stable, from which the 
 sound of voices came. ''Papa," called Marianne, 
 *' come, do you know how late it is ? " 
 
 " By the clock, no ; by my appetite, yes," answered 
 her father, appearing at the door. " Come, give an 
 account of yourself. Where have you been hiding 
 all the afternoon ? In the woods with the other wild 
 things, I'll be bound." 
 
 Marianne nodded. " That is exactly where ; it is so 
 lovely to be out of doors when summer is coming. 
 I can't bear to be pent up in the house. We met a 
 pedler." 
 
 "We?" 
 
 "Yes; Victor and I." 
 
 "Ah, Victor was with you.'*" 
 
26 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 " We met in the woods, and came back together. 
 It was Victor who was showing the pedler the way 
 to Fort Schlosser, and they came my path so — 
 See my bracelet, papa. Isn't it odd ? " 
 
 He examined it gravely. " Where did you get 
 it .? " 
 
 " From the pedler, who got it from an old squaw. 
 Victor bought it for me." 
 
 " Did you happen to hear the pedler's name .? " 
 
 "Asa Peaslee." 
 
 Her father nodded. " I know him. A sharp 
 Connecticut Yankee, yet not half a bad man. No 
 doubt he drove a good bargain. I wouldn't pa- 
 rade this thing around. Keep it safe. I saw one 
 something like it once, and it served as a sort 
 of talisman. This may be useful to you some 
 day." 
 
 "Then I will keep it safely. Where is Royal.?" 
 
 "Where, but at his grandmother's. He'd better 
 live on the other side of the river altogether, it seems 
 to me. He's his mother's own son — more French 
 than American." 
 
 "While I am more American than French," put 
 in Marianne, with a satisfied air. " I wish I were 
 as fair as you, papa. It does not seem right 
 that I should have this dark skin with my blue 
 eyes." 
 
WAR CLOUDS 27 
 
 "Your skin is all right," replied her father, pinch- 
 ing her cheek. " You have a good healthy color." 
 
 " Papa," said Marianne, suddenly changing the 
 subject, " shall you fight if there is a war ? And what 
 will Royal do.?" 
 
 "What he is doing now, no doubt — hob-nobbing with 
 his French cousins. And I ? Well, you needn't ask 
 the son of an old Continental what he will do. There 
 is going to be war fast enough, and I shall be in it ; 
 that's all." 
 
 " And Royal ? " Marianne repeated. 
 
 Her father compressed his Hps. " Let us go in ; 
 your mother will be waiting, and you know she does 
 hate to have a good meal spoiled." 
 
 Arm in arm they walked slowly toward the house, 
 the little girl and her tall father. On the doorstep 
 the man paused and put his hands upon his daughter's 
 shoulders. " See here, daughter," he said, " don't 
 discuss this matter of war before your mother ; she 
 feels it sorely, and no wonder. We'll laugh and be 
 merry while we can. Victor is in there .'' " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " So much the better. He's a good chap, if a little 
 slow." 
 
 No reference was made to the matter, which was 
 now becoming a serious one in the family. Mrs. 
 Reyburn asked, " Where is Royal ? " and her husband 
 
28 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 replied, '' At his grandmother's," and there the sub- 
 ject dropped. Marianne set herself to playfully 
 teasing her father and Victor, while her mother sat 
 silent, keeping a furtively watchful eye upon her 
 husband's countenance. 
 
CHAPTER II 
 
 Across the River 
 
 TO Marianne the little trip across the river to the 
 Canada side where her grandmother lived was 
 always a pleasant outing, and on this June morning 
 when she set out with Victor to row over, it was as 
 fair a day as one could wish. 
 
 "Tell Royal I want him," Mrs. Reyburn had 
 whispered at the last moment. There was a troubled 
 look on her face which Marianne understood, and 
 she was a little more quiet than usual when she joined 
 Victor and the two stepped into the light canoe which 
 was to take them over. A short walk beyond the 
 landing and they would reach the house of her grand- 
 mother, — a typical country mansion of the French 
 period. The house was but one story high, but its 
 sloping roof gave ample space for bedrooms above, 
 where peaked dormer windows let in the light. 
 Though but one room deep, the house stretched along 
 for nearly a hundred feet, and with its many out- 
 buildings was a cosey and comfortable abode. 
 
 29 
 
30 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 " My husband was a seigneur on his own domain," 
 Madame Desvouges was wont to tell her granddaughter 
 proudly ; " and though the old regime has passed away, 
 we do not forget what we have been." A quick, alert, 
 bright-eyed, little woman was Madame, despite her 
 seventy years ; independent to a degree, and with the 
 help of Victor, her adopted son, she managed her 
 estate fairly well. The old French customs were 
 religiously observed, and Madame never failed to 
 impress upon the younger generation that they should 
 not forget their family pride however much their 
 fortunes were altered. 
 
 ''You are very silent, Marianne," remarked Victor, 
 as the canoe sped through the water. 
 
 '' I am thinking," she repHed, dabbling her fingers 
 softly in the ripples. ''Out upon the war! as they 
 used to say in Shakespeare's day. Isn't it funny, 
 Victor, that I like Shakespeare, and Royal does not 
 care a sou for him.? That in itself should prove me 
 more English than French — not Enghsh, but Ameri- 
 can," she added quickly. "And yet when I listen to 
 grandmother's tales and hear how my grandfather 
 fought under Montcalm and De Le\ds, I feel myself 
 glow all over. My father would have been on the 
 Enghsh side then if he had been of that day, and — 
 O dear! who can tell just what is right.?" 
 
 "One cannot," returned Victor, "and that is what 
 
ACROSS THE RIVER 31 
 
 I say when I am urged by these bombasts to join 
 the army. Fine enough, say I, when the war is 
 all on paper, but to go through life maimed is not 
 so fine. If I must defend yonder home, I will shed 
 my life's blood for grand'mere and Victorine, but — " 
 He shrugged his shoulders, and Marianne lapsed again 
 into silence until they had reached their landing- 
 place. She was full of the thought of her brother 
 Royal, and of how he would take her mother's mes- 
 sage. 
 
 When she arrived at her grandmother's door she 
 was geeted in voluble French : " But yes, you have 
 arrived. I told Royal you would come, ma chere, 
 though he would not be certain of it." 
 
 "Where is he.?" Marianne asked eagerly, after kiss- 
 ing her grandmother on each brown cheek. 
 
 ''He.?" Madame spread out her fingers. "Who 
 knows ? He is at Queenston or perhaps at Fort 
 George. One knows not just where. He is not 
 like Victor whom one can always count upon." She 
 patted the girl upon the shoulder and led her into the 
 house. In the corner of the large room by a clumsy 
 loom stood a little figure busy at work over the threads 
 of flax. Above the clatter of the shuttles arose a voice 
 sweet, clear, and pathetic, singing a Canadian boat-song 
 through which thrilled a wild note. Marianne stopped 
 short to Hsten. 
 
32 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 Suddenly the clattering stopped and the figure 
 turned, showing a face beautiful by reason of wild-rose 
 color, soft luminous hazel eyes, a mouth whose sweet- 
 ness hid its sad curves. A mass of auburn hair touched 
 by ghnts of sunHght fell over the shoulders, unhappily 
 much misshapen, and the long arms were those of a 
 hunchback. This was Victor's twin sister, Victorine 
 La Rue, born in that terrific "Hungry Year," and left 
 motherless and fatherless by reason of it. But for Ma- 
 dame Desvouges the two tiny babies would have fol- 
 lowed their mother, but wrapped in softest skins they 
 were carried to the seigniory ; and cuddled side by side 
 in a basket like two kittens, they were tended, nursed, and 
 saved from starvation, becoming as her own children to 
 Madame Desvouges. In her tenth year the little Victo- 
 rine had developed spinal trouble ; and though by means 
 of an out-door life she finally grew quite strong and 
 well, the twist in her back could never be lessened and 
 she arrived at womanhood a hunchback. Yet withal, 
 so sweet and lovable she was that she seemed a sun- 
 beam in the house and had her compensations in the 
 love given her and in the power to use a beautiful 
 voice. Her face lighted up as she saw Marianne, and 
 she made a swift step forward. 
 
 "I knew you would come when Victor stayed all 
 night." 
 
 Marianne laughed. "That is what grandma said. 
 
ACROSS THE RIVER 33 
 
 I wanted to come, Victorine, and Victor said he would 
 bring me. I have something to show. See, isn't it 
 pretty ? " She held up her arm, from which dangled 
 the Indian bracelet. 
 
 Victorine showed immediate interest. Like most 
 afflicted persons, she had an intense love of adornment, 
 and decked her own person almost fantastically. " It 
 is not so pretty as it is curious," she replied, examining 
 the bawble. *' Where did you get it ? " 
 
 ''Victor got it for me of a pedler." She dived 
 down into her pocket and produced the ribbon. '' And 
 this is for you. Victor is too generous to me." She 
 shook out the ribbon and held it against Victorine's 
 hair. " It looks well with those curly locks ; it is blue 
 and green, and you must wear it." 
 
 " Oh, no," protested Victorine, " not when Victor 
 bought it for you." 
 
 " He had no business to," laughed Marianne ; " and 
 after all, he did not really buy it, for the pedler threw 
 it in for good measure. Besides, as I said before, Vic- 
 tor is too generous to me." 
 
 Victorine looked at her steadily, stroking the silken 
 bit of ribbon with her slim fingers. " I wonder if you 
 really think so, Marianne." 
 
 ''What.-^ That Victor is generous.? Of course. 
 Don't you know he is .-* " 
 
 *'You are a sly puss," said Victorine, "but in my 
 
34 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 opinion the ribbon will be much more becoming to 
 you than to me." 
 
 " Nonsense ! nothing of the kind ! I won't have it. 
 I told Victor so as we were coming over. I'll tie it 
 around the cat's neck if you don't take it." And she 
 darted across the room to catch up a sedate tabby 
 which was blinking in the doorway. 
 
 '' Stop, Marianne ! " cried Victorine. " You shall not 
 do that. I will take it and keep it ; and when you want 
 it, come to me." 
 
 " I'll do nothing of the kind. You must promise to 
 wear it, or I'll do as I said. Here, Gris-Gris, come and 
 have your collar on." 
 
 Victorine caught the ribbon away and shook her head 
 at the laughing girl. ''There is no doing anything 
 with you, Marianne. I'll take it, since you will have 
 it so. Come, tell me what is the news." 
 
 The roguish smile died from Marianne's face, and she 
 said soberly : *' News enough and of an ill sort. My 
 father is pleased to join the American forces in their 
 fight against the British, and Royal — " She paused. 
 '' You know about Royal, Victorine." 
 
 '* Yes," she replied slowly. " He has joined the loy- 
 alists of Canada." 
 
 Marianne started. ** Do you mean that he has really 
 enlisted } Are you sure ? " 
 
 " He said last night that he meant to do so to-day." 
 
ACROSS THE RIVER 35 
 
 " Dreadful ! dreadful! " murmured Marianne. '* If I 
 could but see him and dissuade him before it is too late. 
 My mother's last words were to bid him come home 
 at once." 
 
 "There is a bare chance of his not having gone," 
 returned Victorine. " Wait a moment. He will not 
 come back if he knows you are here." 
 
 " But he will come for you, — yes, I know that, — or 
 for grandmother." She turned to where her grand- 
 mother was covering the bake-kettle with coals. 
 
 After the fleur-de-hs ceased to wave over Canada 
 Madame Desvouges had been obliged to live very fru- 
 gally and simply. Though many of the old customs 
 were kept up, the retinue of servants had dwindled to 
 one stout maid for the house, and the manor was let 
 out in parcels to those who lived humbly in their log 
 houses. Madame Desvouges declared herself a loyal 
 subject of Great Britain, but it was none the less a sore 
 trial to her when her daughter married a man of the 
 English-speaking race. She comforted herself later 
 with the knowledge that her grandson was more French 
 than English, and she adored him. It had been a 
 dream, which even now she could not relinquish, that 
 Royal and Victorine would marry, and for Victor there 
 was Marianne. So would the younger generation re- 
 turn to the French side of the border, and all would 
 be as she desired. No one spoke English in her house- 
 
36 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 hold, and at Marianne's *' Grand'mere, j'ai quelque 
 chose de vous dire," she smiled and straightened her- 
 self up from bending over the bake-kettle. 
 
 "I wait to hear," she replied. "What is the 
 secret ? " 
 
 "Grandma, Royal will bear arms against his own 
 father. Think how terrible, how terrible ! He did not 
 know, perhaps, that our father really intended to fight ; 
 but he will, my father will, and it will break my 
 mother's heart. Dear grandma, I beg you will en- 
 treat Royal to leave fighting for others to do, and to 
 come home. If my father must leave his home, what 
 will my mother and I do with no natural protector ? " 
 
 " You will come here ; that is easy enough," returned 
 her grandmother, with some satisfaction. But Immedi- 
 ately after she said : " It is indeed, my child, a sad con- 
 dition of affairs, yet I fear it is too late to change it. 
 Thank Heaven, Victor has no palm-itching for a sol- 
 dier's pay. He will not fight unless driven to it in 
 order to defend his home. For my own part, I see 
 no use in this war — a folly all around. We, who are 
 neither EngHsh nor Americans, what have we to do 
 with the quarrels of Great Britain and the States.? 
 Why cannot Royal, and your father, too, be content to 
 remain at home peaceably and let others fight out their 
 differences ? " 
 
 "For the same reason," returned Marianne, slowly. 
 
ACROSS THE RIVER 37 
 
 "that my grandfather could not content himself; he 
 made his stand for France in the New World. My 
 father comes of Revolutionary stock, and he will not 
 stand by and see his country threatened a second time 
 by British oppression." 
 
 " Mon Dieu de la France ! " cried Madame, lifting 
 her hands dramatically. " Hear the child talk. Had 
 your grandfather lived, he would have returned to 
 France, as did many of his comrades ; and I am not less 
 French because we did not go, nor is your mother 
 less French." 
 
 "And it was France who helped America win her 
 freedom in the Revolutionary War ; so now will I, who 
 am half French, become indifferent to the cause which 
 La Fayette made his own ? " 
 
 Her grandmother threw her arms around her and 
 hugged her. " You are such an orator, of such a per- 
 suasive tongue, that I have no more to say. This all 
 may be as a bag of wind ; a prick in the side, and 
 pouf ! it goes. Yet I will have a word with Royal if 
 it be not too late. See, here he comes with Vic- 
 torine." 
 
 Marianne looked up to see a young man, tall of 
 stature, dark-eyed, and dark-haired. Just now his eyes 
 were bent upon the ground as he hstened to what Vic- 
 torine had to say to him. He stopped short when he 
 reached the door. 
 
38 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 ** Royal, my son," said his grandmother, "your 
 mother wants her boy. She will need you. Royal, if 
 your father goes to the war. And as you are a duti- 
 ful son, you will go home to-day and say : Here I am, 
 my mother, to be your comfort and protection when 
 my father is gone." She spoke in a gentle, half -ques- 
 tioning voice. 
 
 The young man made no reply, but dropped upon 
 the bench by the door, and with elbows on knees and 
 head held between hands he kept his eyes fixed upon 
 the ground. Marianne went up to him. " Royal," she 
 said, imitating her grandmother's gentle tone, " mother 
 wants you. Her last words to me as I left home were : 
 'Tell Royal I want him.' You will go, brother .? " 
 
 He rose to his feet. "Yes, I will go." 
 
 "And you will stay," urged his grandmother. 
 
 He was silent a moment, and then he faced them 
 with : " That must be as I am ordered. I shall hardly 
 be allowed on the American side, for to-morrow I re- 
 port for duty." 
 
 Marianne recoiled aghast. " For duty ! Oh, Royal, 
 have you — " 
 
 "Yes, I have joined the army under Brock." 
 
 Marianne's eyes showed the distress she felt as she 
 said : " And that means you will arm yourself against 
 your own father. A shot fired by you may be the 
 cause of his death." 
 
ACROSS THE RIVER 39 
 
 '' Don't ! " Royal lifted his hand. " It may be the 
 other way. At all events, it is too late. I cannot 
 retreat from the step I have taken." 
 
 " Oh, but why, why did you need to fight at all ? " 
 cried his sister, with tears in her voice. 
 
 " Because I come of a fighting race, I suppose," 
 he replied with a half attempt at a smile. ** There 
 is no use in saying anything now, Marianne; the 
 thing is done, and I have as good a right to fight 
 for my cause as father has for his." 
 
 " No, but his ought to be yours, too. Are you not 
 an American born ? Did not your father's father 
 fight for your country's freedom .? and how could 
 you join hands with his enemies ^ " cried Marianne, 
 passionately. 
 
 " Hold, my children," interrupted their grandmother. 
 *'Do not quarrel here on the verge of a separation. 
 Royal may have been hasty, but he thinks he is right, 
 and if he finds he is not, he can lay down his arms 
 and remain at home. No doubt, after all, it is all 
 bluster; much smoke and no fire. Go home, Royal, 
 and see your mother and then return to us ; that is, 
 if the way is open to you." 
 
 " Oh, hostilities have not begun ; one can cross as 
 he wills, if he but knows how." 
 
 " And I will go, too," decided Marianne. 
 
 Royal looked uneasy. 
 
40 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 "You don't want me," pouted Marianne. "I think, 
 when you are so soon going to leave home, that you 
 are very unfeehng not to want your only sister to be 
 with you all she can." 
 
 "It is not that," returned Royal, "but I do not want 
 my father to know, for more than one reason." 
 
 "I would not tell him." 
 
 " It would only make it that much harder for you 
 to have to guard your speech, and to feel that you 
 were keeping a secret from him." 
 
 "Yes, I know, for you do not love father as I do, 
 else you could not do this thing." 
 
 "Tut, tut!" Madame Desvouges interfered. "I 
 would not say such things, Marianne." 
 
 " But it is true. He cannot love his father if he be 
 willing to side with his mortal enemies." 
 
 " I do love my father," said Royal, sullenly ; " but 
 he will not understand me, and he never has tried to. 
 He has always been annoyed because I am not like 
 his people." 
 
 " Oh, no. Royal, not annoyed. He has wished you 
 were like them; that is all. And you are like them 
 in self-will," she added, under her breath. "At all 
 events," she went on after a miserable pause, " he loves 
 you, and so does mother, and it will break their hearts 
 to have you do this." 
 
 " But I have told you I cannot undo it. Don't you 
 
ACROSS THE RIVER 41 
 
 understand ? " said Royal, impatiently. '* Would you 
 rather I were shot as a deserter ? There is no use 
 staying here arguing the question. I will go home 
 and see them. I shall tell my mother, and I will take 
 leave of my father, but I will not let him know that 
 it is a real farewell. And I want you to stay here, 
 Marianne." 
 
 His grandmother nodded. " It will be better all 
 around, Marianne." 
 
 " But I want to go," persisted the girl. 
 
 "You will remain," said her grandmother, drawing 
 herself up to her fullest height, and speaking in the 
 voice that Marianne had learned as a little child to 
 obey. There was no appeal when grand'mere spoke 
 in that way, and the girl yielded, turning away with 
 tears in her eyes to enter the house. She sat down 
 by the loom which Victorine had left, and idly fingered 
 the hnen threads. She was hurt and indignant at 
 Royal's attitude, and half resentful at her grand- 
 mother's authoritative manner. " I've a mind to go, 
 after all," she murmured. 
 
 "You wouldn't do that," said a voice at the vine- 
 covered window. 
 
 Marianne started. ''Victor! " she exclaimed. "You 
 heard it all.?" 
 
 " Yes, and you would not make it harder for your 
 mother and father." 
 
42 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 " No, of course not ; but how could I ? " 
 
 " By that telltale face of yours, which cannot hide 
 a secret. Your father would be sure to suspect some- 
 thing unusual ; then your sense of loyalty would make 
 it hard for you not to tell him he had one of Brock's 
 soldiers under his roof, and it would be hard for him 
 to have to give up that soldier to the authorities." 
 
 *'0h ! " Marianne's eyes grew big. "Would all that 
 happen ? Would he have to give him up .? " 
 
 ** He might consider it his duty." 
 
 " How dreadful ! but Roy is not a Britisher." 
 
 "He is the same thing in the eyes of the Ameri- 
 cans." 
 
 Marianne sighed and repeated : " How dreadful ! 
 I wish Royal had sense enough to stay at home and 
 let the real Britishers fight their own battles." 
 
 " If your father goes, you and your mother will 
 come here .'' " Victor spoke with more than indifferent 
 curiosity. 
 
 " I don't know. It will be as mother and father 
 say, of course ; and — oh, Victor, is it really getting 
 dangerous to cross the river ? Will it make any differ- 
 ence which side one is on .? " 
 
 " Yes, I suppose so. This will be the enemy's coun- 
 try ; it is so even now ; and one must be known to 
 be a non-combatant to get over." 
 
 " O dear ! O dear ! what a mess it all is ! I don't 
 
ACROSS THE RIVER 43 
 
 like it at all." She arose and began to pace the room. 
 Victor, leaning on the window-sill, watched her. 
 
 Presently she came back to the window. " Has 
 Royal gone .? " 
 
 " I beHeve so. Your grandmother and Victorine 
 are coming in." 
 
 Marianne scrambled over the window-sill. " I want 
 to get out of this enemy's country," she explained, half 
 laughing. " I am afraid I shall be captured. I am 
 going to hide, and then grand'mere will be sorry she 
 told me I must stay." 
 
 "Where are you going to hide?" Victor asked, 
 smiling. 
 
 '' It wouldn't be hiding if I told ; and if you dare to 
 watch me, I'll never forgive you. I won't speak to 
 you for a week if you say a word about it ; you must 
 just say that you don't know where I am. Promise." 
 
 ''What will you give me if I promise ? " 
 
 " I'm sure I don't know. What do you want.? " 
 
 " A kiss will do." 
 
 " That's easy enough given ; yet what have you done 
 with all those I have been giving you ever since I 
 was a baby ? " 
 
 " I have them all, and I will give them back to you 
 whenever you say so." 
 
 Marianne laughed. ''You silly old Victor; if you 
 are so ready to return what I give you, I'll give you 
 
44 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 no more. You'll have to promise anyhow, or I'll never, 
 never give you one more. I'm getting too big to 
 kiss, anyhow, even if I am not as tall as you." 
 
 "You're only a foolish little girl still," returned 
 Victor, teasingly ; "and I'm your uncle, so you must 
 obey me." 
 
 " I never did, and I'm not going to begin now, at 
 my age. Besides, it is different from what it would 
 be if you were really my uncle ; then perhaps I would 
 obey you. I am glad you are not." 
 
 " So am I, monstrously glad." 
 
 " You unkind creature ! My uncle, Tom Reyburn, 
 adores me." 
 
 " I am willing he should, but that is not saying that 
 I — " 
 
 " What ? That you do or you don't .? " 
 
 " Why didn't you wait for me to finish ? You have 
 broken the thread of my speech now, and I cannot 
 tell what I meant to say." 
 
 Marianne gave her shoulders a shrug and made a 
 face at him. "Stay right here for five minutes," she 
 commanded. "Don't dare to move or you'll be sorry." 
 She gave one look back to see if he intended to do 
 as she had ordered, and then ran off, not pausing till 
 she had reached the river. She was in time to see 
 her brother's canoe half over, but she had no intention 
 of following him ; though she unfastened a little boat 
 
ACROSS THE RIVER 45 
 
 from where it was tied, and, getting in, was soon pad- 
 dling up-stream. 
 
 It was nearly dark when she reappeared at her 
 grandmother's, looking half ashamed and half defiant. 
 
 ''Have you been over to your home.''" asked Vic- 
 torine, quickly. 
 
 " No, I have not," replied Marianne, nonchalantly, 
 '' I have simply been entertaining myself as I could. 
 I have been where I was neither scolded, starved, nor 
 frowned upon." 
 
 "You are a saucy girl," said her grandmother. " You 
 ought to have known that we would worry about you." 
 
 **You needn't have done that. You know I am 
 perfectly at home anywhere around here. I know the 
 country thoroughly." 
 
 " But you do not know war," returned her grand- 
 mother, gravely. " Girls would best bide at home when 
 battles are in prospect." 
 
 "Where were you, Manny.?" asked Victorine, coax- 
 ingly. 
 
 " Oh, up the river a little way. I went to see some 
 of my Indian friends, if you must know, and I learned 
 several things I did not know before." 
 
 " I hope one of them was obedience to your elders," 
 said grand'mere. 
 
 Marianne put her head to one side with an air of 
 giving serious thought to the remark. " I didn't have 
 
46 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 to learn that. I never disobey," she said after a 
 moment. 
 
 '' You were bidden to remain this side the river." 
 
 "Well, grand'mere, and can you say I did not.''" 
 laughed Marianne. Then she went up and kissed her. 
 "I didn't disobey; please say I didn't." 
 
 " Nevertheless you might as well have done so for 
 all the peace of mind I have had over it, as if it 
 were not enough to worry over one grandchild's im- 
 petuosity ; but I must needs have another's naugh- 
 tiness to keep me in an affright all day." 
 
 Marianne was at once penitent. " I was naughty ; 
 I confess it, granny, dear. I wanted to do something 
 to tease you, but I didn't think it would really put 
 you in an affright. I am sorry. I am, really." 
 
 " Then go and call Victor, and come eat your sup- 
 per," replied her grandmother, mollified by this con- 
 triteness. 
 
 Marianne was only too glad to obey. She had ex- 
 pected a scolding and had escaped better than she had 
 any reason to think she deserved. 
 
CHAPTER III 
 A House Divided 
 
 WHEN Royal returned the next morning, he 
 maintained a stolid indifference, which Mari- 
 anne felt covered a real regret at his impetuous 
 decision. He would not talk, and gave her no further 
 information than that he had told his mother the step 
 he had taken and had made his farewells. 
 
 " Does father know 1 " Marianne asked. 
 
 Royal was silent for a moment, then he answered, 
 "No." 
 
 " Oh, what will he say } " Marianne exclaimed. 
 
 Royal did not reply, but ground an inoffensive dan- 
 delion into the earth at his feet. The two were stand- 
 ing in the orchard, whither Royal had followed his 
 sister. She watched the gloom gather upon his face 
 more and more deeply, and said, with a sisterly attempt 
 at cheerfulness : " Oh, well, it may all blow over very 
 soon, and at all events you don't have to serve more 
 than this first term of enlistment ; and since you are 
 only in the militia, you won't have to be at camp all 
 
 47 
 
48 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 the time like the regulars, and can stay here at grand- 
 mamma's, and that will be almost Uke being at home." 
 
 Royal smiled a little. '' But you will be on the other 
 side of the river," he said, '' and it will soon be not 
 so easy to come back and forth. As it is, we could 
 scarcely do it but that we are known at the ferry. 
 When I am a soldier on this side, and you are the 
 daughter of a soldier on that — " 
 
 Marianne put her hands over her ears. " I won't 
 hear it. You don't mean this is a real good-by, 
 Royal.? Why, I thought I'd see you a dozen times, — 
 that you could pop in when you pleased." 
 
 "That will not be possible." 
 
 " And this is truly adieu ? " She threw her arms 
 around his neck and kissed him over and over. Then 
 suddenly flung herself from him and down on the 
 grass, where she lay sobbing. 
 
 Royal watched her for a few minutes before he 
 went over and shook her shoulder gently. *' See here, 
 Marianne," he said, " I had one scene yesterday with 
 mother. She vows she will not face my father with 
 the news of my enlistment, and — and I depended 
 upon you to do it. Sit up, there's a good girl, and 
 listen to me." 
 
 Marianne obeyed, wiping her wet eyes and turning 
 her tear-stained face toward her brother. 
 
 "I confess I may have been in too great haste 
 
A HOUSE DIVIDED 49 
 
 about this matter," he contmued. '* I was at Queens- 
 ton one day when the subject was put before us in 
 this way : the Americans desire the annexation of 
 Canada ; if we would not be merged into that hodge- 
 podge of nationaUties, we must stand up for ourselves 
 and fight, that Canada may keep her individuality." 
 
 The tears were gone from Marianne's eyes, and now 
 they flashed with indignation. " Her individuality, 
 indeed ! Are you forsooth an EngHshman, Royal 
 Reyburn ? Is Canada French ? Hasn't she given her 
 allegiance to Great Britain ? And if she is not fight- 
 ing under the French flag, why are not the American 
 Stars and Stripes good enough for you ? You are an 
 American born, and it is all nonsense, this talk of 
 Canada's rights. If you were talking of her rights as 
 a French province, that would be another thing; but 
 when you begin about English rights for her, I don't 
 see why it wouldn't be just as good for her individu- 
 ahty, as you call it, if she were an American posses- 
 sion. She isn't French, either way you fix it. One 
 would suppose that England had suddenly become a 
 part of France to hear you talk." 
 
 "At all events, she doesn't want to belong to the 
 United States," persisted Royal. 
 
 *' I don't see what business it is of yours if she 
 doesn't," said Marianne, sharply. " Besides, that is not 
 what the war is about. Father told me the whole 
 
50 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 trouble. It is because the English will not allow us free 
 trade, and they impress American-born sailors whenever 
 they can, just to be overbearing bullies. We are not 
 going to stand having our liberties abused in that impu- 
 dent way, and we are not going to allow our own real 
 American sailors to be stolen from us by Johnny Bull. 
 Canada has nothing to do with the question. Besides, 
 you are not Canadian; you are an American." 
 
 " I am Canadian now," said Royal, soberly. 
 
 Marianne jumped to her feet. " Thank Heaven, I 
 am not. Hurrah for the Stars and Stripes ! Down 
 with the British ! Death to the redcoats ! Hurrah for 
 America! Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah!" She caught 
 off her apron and waved it around her head excitedly. 
 " There ! " she cried, stamping her foot, " there ! I am 
 an American, and I hope you remember it, and your 
 father is an American ; so was your grandfather, and 
 your great-grandfather, and your great-great-grand- 
 father. Now, what have you to say.?" 
 
 ''Take care!" Royal warned. "You are on British 
 soil, and war is declared." 
 
 " Maybe you would like to arrest me," Marianne 
 taunted, dancing before him mockingly. " Maybe you'd 
 /ike to have your sister and your father and your whole 
 family in some vile prison-ship or some loathsome 
 prison.? Such a noble ambition!" 
 
 *' Marianne!" Her brother spoke impatiently. "This 
 
A HOUSE DIVIDED 51 
 
 is perfectly childish. I have done what I believe to be 
 right, and I am not going to be taunted out of my duty 
 by a silly girl. If you will not make your adieux to me 
 in a sisterly fashion, then we will part without them." 
 He turned on his heel and walked off. 
 
 Marianne ran after him and caught him by the arm. 
 " Royal, Royal, don't go away like that. I will do my 
 best to spare my father. I will tell him you thought 
 you were doing right. Don't go without kissing me 
 good-by; please don't." 
 
 He stopped, a smile lighting up his dark face. " That 
 sounds more Hke my little sister." He lifted her up 
 bodily and kissed her two or three times. " Good-by, 
 my little girl. I hope to see you soon again. You 
 must try to be son and daughter to our father and 
 mother. Perhaps my father has not meant to be hard 
 on me, but he has treated me as if I were an infant to 
 be told not to go beyond the garden gate, and I could 
 not stand it. That's the true reason, Marianne, only 
 don't tell any one. Politics have little to do with it." 
 
 *' No, I will not tell. But he doesn't mean to be hard 
 on you, Roy, I know he doesn't. He forgets that you 
 are a child no longer. He treats me as if I were a babe 
 in arms, and I rather like it, so why should not you? 
 My grandmother says you are like father in disposition, 
 that he will not be controlled by another's will, and 
 neither will you; I suppose that is the way of it. 
 
52 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 Adieu, Royal. I will be good, and I will stay at home 
 and try to be a comfort to father and mother." 
 
 He lifted her up once more to kiss her, and they 
 parted. 
 
 Marianne returned to the house. Victorine was not 
 singing at the loom. She was very soberly engaged in 
 scouring a pewter dish. Her beautiful hair fell down 
 each side her face so that Marianne could not see her 
 eyes, in which she would have discovered traces of tears. 
 *' Where is Victor ? " asked the younger girl, abruptly. 
 
 " He is in the garden," Victorine answered in a quiet 
 voice. 
 
 " I want him to take me home. I want to go now, 
 right off." 
 
 "Why need you do that.-^" her grandmother asked 
 from the buttery. 
 
 *' I must. Royal has gone, and they are all alone 
 there; they will need me. I promised Royal that I 
 would go." 
 
 ''She is right," commented Madame Desvouges. 
 " We must do without her for a while, Victorine. This 
 troublesome war is going to put a stop to the freedom of 
 going back and forth as one wishes ; and besides, they 
 say the country about is Hke to be full of soldiers, and 
 it will be best that maids remain at home. We will keep 
 our eyes on Royal, my child, and no doubt there will be 
 found a way to keep up communication. If your father 
 
A HOUSE DIVIDED 53 
 
 goes to the war, you and your mother will, of course, 
 come here, and we will all be together." 
 
 Marianne did not reply, for her mind was made up on 
 that score. So she kissed her grandmother and Victo- 
 rine good-by with more than usual warmth, and set out 
 with Victor toward her home. 
 
 "You will only ferry me over, Victor," she said to 
 him, "and the rest of the way it will be all right." At 
 the opposite shore she held out her hand. " Good-by, 
 Victor." 
 
 He took the offered hand in both his. "And why 
 adieu so seriously, Marianne ? I shall see you again 
 soon ; to-morrow, it may be." 
 
 " You may not," she returned. 
 
 " Then I will go all the way with you." 
 
 "No, you had better go back. I don't want you. 
 The way is easy enough, and I shall have work to do 
 when I get there." 
 
 " I can help you with it." 
 
 She shook her head. " Not with the kind that I have 
 on hand. Go back, please." She pushed him gently 
 by the shoulders, and he obediently stepped into the 
 boat and picked up his oars. 
 
 "Very well, Marianne. Good-by for to-day, if you 
 say so, but you do not prevent me from seeing you soon 
 again." 
 
 She watched the little boat push off, and then she 
 
54 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 took her way up the path toward the road which led 
 to her home. It was still early in the day, but the 
 warmth of a summer day brooded over the woods and 
 fields. Usually Marianne noted every wayside blos- 
 som, the songs of the birds in the trees, and the drift 
 of white clouds floating across the sky ; but to-day she 
 was intent upon reaching home, and gave but scant 
 heed to the pleasures of the way. She walked rapidly, 
 and her hair clung in little damp rings around her face 
 when she appeared before her mother. 
 
 "You are returned," said Mrs. Reyburn. "I am 
 glad, Marianne, that you did not tarry. They are all 
 well ? Yes .'' " 
 
 *' Quite well, and sent their love and a hundred mes- 
 sages, as usual." Marianne sat down and fanned her- 
 self vigorously with her hat. " I saw Royal," she 
 announced abruptly. 
 
 Her mother's Hps quivered. '* His father does not 
 know," she said tremulously. 
 
 " No, I know he does not. Where is father ? " 
 
 " In the shop. There was some tool to be mended, 
 and he took it there. I heard him hammering upon it 
 a moment ago." 
 
 Marianne did not waste words. She picked up her 
 hat again and went toward the door ; then something in 
 her mother's face made her turn back. " Do not worry, 
 mother mine," she said. '* I am going to tell father, 
 
A HOUSE DIVIDED 55 
 
 and I think I can make him understand that he is not 
 to blame Royal too much." She took her mother's 
 head between her hands and kissed the shining bands 
 of dark hair before she started again upon her 
 errand. 
 
 Walter Reyburn was hammering away at a bit of 
 iron, giving powerful blows, which brought out the 
 muscles on his bare arm. Marianne stood watching 
 him. What a great, strong man he was ; what mighty 
 sinews and strong, brawny hands ! It was funny, she 
 told herself, that any one as little as she should have 
 such a big father, and what was funnier still, she was 
 not in the least afraid of him. She stood poised upon 
 the sill of the rude work-shop until her father caught 
 sight of her. 
 
 "Well," he exclaimed, ''you are back I see, bright 
 and early, too." 
 
 "Yes, I would have come yesterday, but — " She 
 paused. 
 
 "But what.?" Her father examined carefully the 
 bit of iron he had been pounding. 
 
 " Only they would not let me. Grandmamma said I 
 shouldn't, and I had to mind her." 
 
 "Yes, of course. I'm glad you've come, though. 
 Mother needs you. She doesn't seem quite as bright 
 as usual ; something on her mind. I fancy she sus- 
 pects I am going off as soon as I get the call." 
 
56 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 Marianne was silent for a minute, then she said 
 bravely, "That isn't all." 
 
 '' It isn't ? She isn't ill, is she ? " 
 
 *' No. It's — it's about Royal." 
 
 "What about Royal.?" Her father turned his back 
 to her and picked up his hammer again, weighing it in 
 his hand aimlessly. There was dead silence for a 
 moment. 
 
 " He's joined the army," said Marianne, in a low 
 voice, after she had summoned sufficient courage to 
 make the statement, "the army over there at — at 
 Queenston." 
 
 The hammer dropped with a thud, and the strong 
 man grasped the rough work-bench for support. Mari- 
 anne ran up to him and leaned her face against his 
 sleeve. " Father, dear," she whispered, "don't be hard 
 on him. He is a man full grown. You were married 
 and were his father at his age, and — and — I think if 
 you'd only let him feel that he is not a child. You see 
 he wanted to let you understand that he is old enough 
 to do what he had made up his mind to. I don't be- 
 lieve he would have gone if you hadn't laid down the 
 law and said he shouldn't do anything except what 
 you told him he could. Grandmamma says he has a 
 strong will just like yours." 
 
 " Mine never led me to be a traitor to my country," 
 replied her father, in a stifled tone. 
 
i 
 
 I 
 
 V k 
 
 She took one of /lis big strong hands in hers and s/rohed it gently 
 
A HOUSE DIVIDED 57 
 
 It was a critical moment, and Marianne felt the need 
 of the right word which would turn her father's bitter- 
 ness of spirit into something gentler. She took one 
 of his big strong hands in hers and stroked it gently. 
 "Father," she went on, *'do you remember that when 
 your father joined the American army that his grand- 
 father called him a traitor, and you have often said 
 that your great-grandfather thought he was right in 
 being a Tory at the beginning of the war, though he 
 changed his opinions later. You know Royal feels as 
 if he belonged to Canada as much as to the States, and 
 if he thinks he is right to fight for his mother's coun- 
 try instead of his father's, do you think that makes him 
 altogether bad.?" Marianne's arm had stolen around 
 her father's neck, and she looked at him with anxious 
 eyes. 
 
 '' You don't understand how a man feels about these 
 things," her father replied, with a little more heartiness 
 of tone. "I don't think Royal altogether bad, but 
 isn't it a terrible thing for father and son to be arrayed 
 against each other ? " 
 
 " It is dreadful, dreadful, but it was so in the last 
 war, and perhaps it will never come to that really. 
 You may neither of you have a chance to fight at all ; 
 and if you do, even then you would forgive Royal and 
 let him come again, wouldn't you .'' " 
 
 Her father was silent for a little. '' We will talk of 
 
58 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 that when the time comes," he said at last. ''There 
 may be no home to come to." 
 
 '' Oh ! " Such a possibility had never entered Mari- 
 anne's head. "What do you mean .? " 
 
 " Just what I say. While I never for a moment 
 doubt the righteousness of our cause nor the result of 
 our arms, there are chances to be taken, and war on 
 this border land means perhaps destruction. That 
 brings us to something else I want to say. I had 
 hoped when I joined our troops, that Royal would at 
 least remain at home and look after you and your 
 mother, even if he did not give active assistance to our 
 side. Since this is not to be expected now, I see nothing 
 for you to do but to go to your grandmother's." 
 
 " Mother may go, but I am not going," repUed Mari- 
 anne, decidedly. 
 
 " You will go where your mother does." 
 
 *' I will stay where my father stays. I am not going 
 to grandmamma's, any such thing, and I don't believe 
 mother will either. We are going to stay right here 
 where you are. Do you suppose I want to be over 
 there in that nest of Britishers ? If I were a man, Ld 
 shoulder a gun with you, and we'd march off together. 
 As it is, I mean to stay in the United States of America. 
 There ! " 
 
 Her father looked at her half amused. She had left 
 his side and was standing before him. He took her two 
 
A HOUSE DIVIDED 59 
 
 hands and gave them a hearty shake. ''Well, little 
 girl, I've one loyal child, anyhow, I'm happy to see. 
 Stay you shall, while there is any chance of safety. It 
 may be that you are right and that there is more bluster 
 than danger." 
 
 Yet a few days later Marianne, looking toward the 
 foot of the cliffs in the rear of Lewiston, saw the fields 
 white with the tents of Van Rensselaer's encampment, 
 and then war seemed very near home. 
 
 Her father was not yet in active service, and 
 brought home the news of a cessation of hostilities. 
 Then came the information that Hull had surrendered, 
 not only Detroit but the whole of Michigan, to the 
 enemy, and the troops under Van Rensselaer chafed 
 under their enforced inaction when they saw, marched 
 in ostentatious parade on the other side of the river, the 
 unhappy prisoners taken at Detroit. 
 
 Then came the battle of Queenston, with its dis- 
 heartening ending, when a stolid body of militia saw 
 their companions, who had started out so bravely and 
 who, reinforced, could easily have won the day, — these 
 they saw overpowered and made prisoners; that, too, 
 after their fierce fight, when they had attained to their 
 position by making the perilous cHmb up the heights of 
 Queenston. A brave fight it was for those of the 
 American troops who were in it, and all glory is theirs. 
 
 It was with a great fear in her heart that Marianne 
 
6o A LOYAL LASS 
 
 heard the news. She had watched the battle from the 
 American shore, had beheld the dead and wounded 
 brought back in boats, had witnessed the stubborn re- 
 fusal of the militia to advance to the relief of those who 
 were so dangerously in want of reenf orcements ; and at 
 last, when all was over, the great question that arose to 
 her lips was : Where is my father ? Was he among 
 those cowards on the bank ? If so, he was safe — yet a 
 coward. Was he among those who had valiantly scaled 
 the heights, but to be captured at last after their noble 
 defence ? If so, he was a prisoner. Together mother and 
 daughter watched and waited all that day and the next. 
 
 About dusk of the second evening came the sound of 
 footsteps along the path leading to the kitchen door. 
 Marianne jumped to her feet. " It is father ! " she cried. 
 
 " No, no, it is but a neighbor," her mother declared, 
 afraid to encourage hope. 
 
 *' But it must be father," persisted Marianne, flinging 
 open wide the door. But there was disappointment in 
 her tones as she exclaimed, " Oh, it is only you ! " 
 
 Her mother came rapidly forward, asking, *' Who is 
 it, Marianne .? " 
 
 "Only Victor." 
 
 " Victor } And how comes he here } " 
 
 *'I have come to take you home with me," he an- 
 swered, entering the room. 
 
 "I shall not go," Marianne objected decidedly. 
 
A HOUSE DIVIDED 6i 
 
 ''You'd better," returned Victor. 
 
 " I shall wait here for my father. Oh, Victor, have 
 you heard anything of him } We do not know whether 
 he was with those who crossed ; and we have heard that 
 there has been a fearful battle, and that the Indians 
 who came rushing in at the end of it under that half- 
 breed. Captain Norton, were the cause of our losing the 
 day. The mihtia, they say, were so terrified at the sight 
 of the painted Indians, that they refused to cross the 
 river, and go to the assistance of their friends. I know 
 my father was never afraid of an Indian ; he is too used 
 to them, and so we fear he is hurt, or that worse has 
 happened." 
 
 " Nothing worse has happened, Marianne. He is 
 wounded, to be sure, and is at our house. It was a stiff 
 fight, and General Brock was killed, and your General 
 Scott, with some others, officers of high rank, have been 
 taken prisoners." 
 
 ''Mon Dieu!" cried Mrs. Reyburn. "We do not 
 care to hear of those ; what we are waiting to know is 
 my husband's condition." 
 
 " He is wounded severely, but not dangerously. It 
 will be some time before his wounds are healed." 
 
 " Oh, and I said I would never leave this side ; I told 
 him that." Marianne clasped her hands. "And now 
 he is over there, and Royal — do you know anything of 
 him .? " 
 
62 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 " It was he who obtained consent to have your father 
 brought to our house. You will go to him ? " He 
 turned to Mrs. Reyburn. 
 
 " I ? Yes, and quickly, too. Come, Marianne, we 
 must go at once." 
 
 But Marianne still hesitated. " Can I come back 
 again ? " 
 
 " I don't know," Victor answered. " You will be bet- 
 ter off with us." 
 
 " Did father say I was to come .-* " 
 
 " I did not ask him. He was in no condition to talk." 
 
 Marianne stood uncertainly, twisting her apron around 
 her finger. She did not want to be disloyal and break 
 her promise to her father, but she longed to be with 
 him, and she finally decided that it would be right for 
 her to go, and she would find a way to get back when 
 her father should have recovered. So she said, '' I will 
 go if mother does." 
 
 " To be sure you will," her mother replied. *' No one 
 questioned your doing otherwise. We can leave Jerusha 
 in charge of the house, and Mark will no doubt attend 
 to the other affairs. Go, Victor, and give him proper 
 directions. Explain the situation, and he will under- 
 stand that he is accountable. I think he will do his 
 best, and I am sure of Jerusha. We will get ready at 
 once. Make up a bundle of your clothing, Marianne ; 
 enough to last some time, but be quick about it." 
 
CHAPTER IV 
 
 New Friends 
 
 BEFORE the night had settled down, Marianne 
 found herself again under her grandmother's 
 roof and by the side of the wounded man was her 
 mother estabhshed. It was a much more comfortable 
 state of things than to be left at home, still the girl 
 chafed under the fact that she was in the enemy's 
 country. Her feelings had been roused to their fullest 
 extent by the fact that her father lay suffering from 
 wounds inflicted by the Britishers, and she felt very 
 bitter about it. 
 
 "You'd better make the best of it," Victorine told 
 her, " and be thankful that you are all here together. 
 It was a Providence, to my thinking, that your father 
 was wounded thus early in the war, else there might 
 have worse trouble come upon you." 
 
 " It is bad enough," Marianne returned ; "yet when I 
 think of those dead and dying men I saw brought over 
 in the boats, I am thankful that my father was not one 
 of them. The churches and houses at Lewiston are 
 turned into hospitals, and the sounds of the groaning 
 
 63 
 
64 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 and moaning is terrible. As you say, there is no doubt 
 but that we are kicky to have father here instead of 
 among strangers. I wonder if he knows that it was all 
 Royal's doing, and that he found him among the 
 wounded, and rescued him from those horrible savage 
 Indians, and then went to headquarters, and begged 
 that he might be taken here." 
 
 Victorine's eyes shone with a starry softness. " I 
 don't think he does know, but he will some day. It 
 was like Royal." 
 
 "Yes, but who wouldn't do it for his own father.? 
 Still, I am glad that Royal could rescue him, though I 
 am sure father would have done the same for him." 
 
 " Poor Royal, he is quite used up over General 
 Brock's death. He admired him greatly." 
 
 Marianne looked up. " Oh, I didn't know you had 
 seen Royal. Has he been here.?" 
 
 Victorine hesitated, then replied, " Yes, he has been 
 here every day to inquire for his father." 
 
 " And I have not seen him." Marianne spoke in 
 quite an injured tone. 
 
 '* He thought you might not care to see him, know- 
 ing the outcome of the battle." 
 
 '' It wasn't he who won the battle," sniffed Mari- 
 anne, but she said nothing more about seeing her 
 brother, and after a while burst out with, " It isn't 
 very nice to be in a place where you don't dare to 
 
NEW FRIENDS 65 
 
 speak your own mind, and where every one hopes 
 your best friends will get beaten." 
 
 " They are our friends, too," returned Victorine. 
 " We girls need not bother our heads over any part 
 of the war except that which gives us wounded men 
 to nurse. Grand'mere says our duty is that which is 
 nearest at hand, and she nurses your father as tenderly 
 as she would her own son." 
 
 "Of course she does; and if she didn't, there would 
 be mother to do it." 
 
 "You are a discontent, Marianne." 
 
 " I am, just now. I hke to be free, and I cannot 
 speak my mind, nor run through the woods as I am 
 used to doing, for fear I will meet some vile soldiers, 
 and I cannot do this and that, so I have half a mind 
 to run away." 
 
 " Where .? " 
 
 "I shall not tell you." 
 
 Victorine laughed, but Marianne's words were some- 
 thing more than mere jest. She was busy forming a 
 scheme which in time she meant to carry out, and 
 which she dared not breathe to any one. It was when 
 her turn came to sit with her father that she gave him 
 the first intimation of what she desired to bring about. 
 
 " What is the news ? " was his daily question when 
 he was able to take an interest in what was going on. 
 He depended upon Marianne for all his information, 
 
66 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 for he knew her keen sympathy with his own cause 
 would lead her to glean all the bits she could. She 
 had her own methods of procuring her news, but she 
 did not whisper the reports to any one but her father. 
 She would tell him of the squabbles in the American 
 army, of how General Van Rensselaer had been dis- 
 gusted with the conduct of the militia and had asked 
 to be relieved, and that General Smyth had taken his 
 place, and many other newsy items. 
 
 " Where did you learn all this ? " her father would 
 ask. 
 
 *'A little bird told me," Marianne would reply with 
 a smile. 
 
 " What is a parole ? " she asked one day. 
 
 " It is one's word given that he will not take arms 
 against a foe within a given time, and so he is allowed 
 freedom of a certain sort." 
 
 " All the militia and their officers who were taken 
 prisoners in your battle were sent back to their own 
 side, on parole. Are you a prisoner on parole ? " 
 
 " No, I was unconscious when they picked me up 
 and brought me here. I have been puzzling lately 
 to know how I happened to be brought to my own 
 mother-in-law's house, and who was the means of 
 doing it." 
 
 After a moment's silence Marianne told him, " It 
 was Royal." 
 
NEW FRIENDS 6j 
 
 Her father turned his face away, but made no com- 
 ment when she gave him the details. After she had 
 finished she looked cautiously around and whispered, 
 "Father." 
 
 He turned his head toward her again, and with her 
 face close to his she laid bare her scheme. 
 
 Her father Hstened attentively, and when she had 
 concluded he said, '* But your mother, and Victor, and 
 grand'mere — you forget that it might reflect upon 
 them, and perhaps do them an injury." 
 
 "I have thought about that," Marianne told him. 
 " I think I can arrange it so it will do them no harm. 
 Will you trust me, father.?" 
 
 "You are pretty quick-witted, and — yes, I can't 
 afford to miss a chance. I don't mean to submit to 
 being a prisoner if there's a chance of freedom, but 
 I'm not strong yet, and the only thing I object to in 
 the matter is, that we do not consider your mother." 
 
 " Yes, I know ; I think that is a difficulty, but I don't 
 believe we ought to tell even her. I'll come back and 
 get her after you are safe." 
 
 Her father laughed. " For up and down assurance, 
 commend me to a little body of your size. It is a case 
 of the elephant and the mouse. Well, Marianne, it's 
 worth the trying, and it cheers me up to have one good 
 staunch American at my side. You would have been 
 a brave soldier if you had been a boy." 
 
6S A LOYAL LASS 
 
 ''Royal is a brave soldier, "said Marianne, **but he 
 just happens to be on the wrong side." With that 
 she left the room, but this was not the last conversa- 
 tion her father had with her upon the subject of his 
 escape. 
 
 The leaves were falling fast when the time at last 
 seemed ripe for Marianne to venture upon the thing 
 which she so long had in mind. The frequent warn- 
 ings of her elders, not to venture far from home, were 
 unheeded one crisp afternoon in November. And 
 while her grandmother was at work preparing a ra- 
 gout for Mr. Reyburn, and her mother was no less busy 
 with Victorine at the loom, and Victor in the barn with 
 the men, she sHpped out of the house, and down 
 through the orchard, which she skirted, reaching the 
 road without being seen. Her destination was an 
 Indian wigwam in the woods, back some distance. 
 She hoped she would encounter no one on the way, 
 which was one lonely enough to encourage her be- 
 lief that she could make her journey unobserved. 
 She sped along, crunching the crisp leaves under foot, 
 and singing softly to herself. Once in a while she left 
 the path to chase a saucy squirrel or to gather chest- 
 nuts from the fallen burrs, already opening to the frost. 
 
 It was upon one of these excursions from the bridle 
 path, that she finally came to grief, for in following the 
 quirks and turns of a specially impudent squirrel, she 
 
NEW FRIENDS 69 
 
 stepped knee-deep in a bog so covered with fallen 
 leaves as to be iindistinguishable. She was flounc- 
 ing and floundering, and trying to get out as best she 
 could, when she heard a stifled laugh, and looking up 
 she saw a boyish face above a scarlet coat. The face 
 was on a broad grin, and the mischievous brown eyes 
 were running over with mirth. 
 
 Marianne was indignant. That any one should see 
 her in this phght was bad enough, but to be so dis- 
 covered by a Britisher was too much. '' You are in a 
 hole, little girl," said the Britisher. "How did you do 
 it.?" 
 
 This was adding insult to injury. " Little girl," 
 indeed ! Marianne maintained a furious silence, and 
 made no effort at all to extricate herself. 
 
 " Oh, maybe you like it in there," continued the 
 youth. "Perhaps you went in on purpose — for 
 leeches or something." 
 
 "It's none of your business what I went in for," 
 cried Marianne, roused to speech. " There is one thing 
 I didn't go in for, and that is, impertinence from a vile 
 Britisher." 
 
 " Aha ! then I have a prisoner without capturing one, 
 — the mud has done that for me ; but if you will cry, 
 ' God save the king,' I will help you out." 
 
 "I will not cry God save anything, for you, — no, 
 not if I stay here forever." 
 
70 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 " You won't ? All right. I suppose you do not 
 really want to be helped out?" 
 
 " Not by you, you horrid rude creature ! " 
 
 " Because I wear a scarlet coat ? Don't you like my 
 uniform ? " 
 
 " I like you less, and that is saying a great deal. If 
 all the British army were as ungallant as you, I should 
 think they'd better be wiped off the face of the earth, 
 and I hope we'll do it." 
 
 "We ? Who are we?" 
 
 "We Americans." 
 
 " If you are an American, what are you doing over 
 here, this side the river ? " 
 
 "That, too, is none of your concern." 
 
 " You are a saucy little child. But, say, look here, 
 you are getting in deeper." He spoke with real ear- 
 nestness, and looking about him he spied a stout log 
 which he dragged to the edge of the bog and pushed 
 toward Marianne, then stepping upon it, he dragged 
 her out, despite her protests that she would rather stay 
 there forever than have him touch her. 
 
 " You'd smother after a while, or if you didn't go 
 deep enough for that, you'd catch your death," he said 
 coolly. " I may be an ungallant Britisher, but I'm not 
 going to see little girls smother to death before my very 
 eyes." 
 
 " Little girl ! " there it was again. " I'll thank you to 
 
NEW FRIENDS 71 
 
 put me down," said Marianne, as soon as they had 
 reached the soHd ground. 
 
 " I'm going to. You are heavier than I thought. 
 My! but you are a sight." He looked her over, and 
 suddenly a half embarrassed expression came over his 
 face. "Say," he remarked apologetically, "you are 
 older than I thought you were. You see you were so 
 far down in the mire that you looked like a small child. 
 I didn't mean to be rude. I was only teasing." 
 
 " You were rude, — very, — but now that I see you 
 nearer, I perceive that you are only a boy, and of course 
 one cannot expect much politeness from hobbledehoys 
 hardly out of their pinafores." Having given voice to 
 this withering speech, Marianne turned her back and 
 began to scrape the mud from her dress with a bit of 
 bark. 
 
 " Here, let me help you do that," said Master Redcoat. 
 
 "You needn't trouble yourself," replied Marianne, 
 magnificently, " I don't require your services. When 
 I want the attentions of young gentlemen, I don't go 
 to Httle boys dressed up in soldier clothes. You might 
 spoil your boomaladdy coat, and your mother might 
 put you to bed without your supper," she said 
 mockingly. 
 
 The lad laughed. " You are giving it to me hot and 
 heavy, aren't you ? If you don't want me to help you, 
 I'll sit down here and wait." 
 
72 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 "Wait? What for?" 
 
 " For you." 
 
 ** You can spare yourself the trouble. I don't want 
 you. I know my way home." 
 
 *' All the same, I'm going to stay. You can't possibly 
 go far with your shoes heavy with mud and water, even 
 if you should get the worst off your frock. Besides, it 
 isn't safe for young ladies to go wandering around the 
 woods when there are encampments of soldiers so near. 
 My sisters are not allowed to do it." 
 
 ''I'm not allowed to do it either, but I do when I have 
 a purpose." The accent on "young ladies" mollified 
 Marianne somewhat, but she could not resist adding, 
 " I don't think it is much safer for little boys to be out 
 alone." 
 
 " Look here ! how old do you suppose I am ? " asked 
 the lad. 
 
 "Oh, I don't know — ten or twelve," returned 
 Marianne, with marked indifference. 
 
 Her companion laughed. " That overdoes it. If 
 you had said fifteen or sixteen, I might have felt 
 aggrieved, for I believe I do look younger than I 
 am. I am nineteen." 
 
 "You don't look it. How old do you suppose I am ? " 
 
 " When you were in the bog, I thought you were 
 eight or ten, but now you are out of it, I suppose you 
 may be — let me see — fourteen." 
 
NEW FRIENDS 73 
 
 " I am seventeen," replied Marianne, with dignity. 
 
 " Really ? You aren't very big for your age." 
 
 ** No, I am little, like mamma, though I look like my 
 father. My brother. Royal, looks hke mamma, but he 
 is tall like father." 
 
 " You don't happen to mean Royal Reyburn, do 
 you ? 
 
 " Yes. Do you know him .'' " 
 
 " Don't I ? Why, he is up at our house now. I am 
 in his regiment, and we belong to the same company. I 
 wish I had known in the beginning that you were his 
 sister." 
 
 " You would have been more polite, I suppose. It 
 doesn't speak very well for your gallantry that you were 
 not so anyhow, even though you didn't know who I 
 was." 
 
 " That is so. I am a thoughtless fellow, and I am 
 afraid I like to tease. Please don't tell Roy, or I'll 
 never hear the last of it. He will be sure to tell Kate. 
 By the way, I haven't told you my name. I am Jack 
 Silverthorn. Now I will tell you what we'd better do : 
 Our house is just back here a little way, and I think 
 we'd better go up there and get you a dry rig." 
 
 '' Oh, no, no ! Appear before entire strangers in this 
 condition.? I could never do it." 
 
 " Oh, but you needn't see any one but Kate. We can 
 sneak around the back way, and I will get Kate to 
 
74 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 come to you and fix you up. You will like Kate ; every 
 one does. Then I will see that you get home safely." 
 
 Marianne was still doubtful. " You said Roy was up 
 there ? " 
 
 " Yes, I left him there with the girls when I came 
 away." 
 
 " What girls ? " 
 
 " My two sisters, Kate and Sue. I came out to get 
 some chestnuts. I forgot all about that." 
 
 Marianne's curiosity to see the two girls whose society 
 her brother seemed to enjoy overcame her scruples, and 
 she finally consented to accompany Jack to his house. 
 The thought of the surprise she w^ould give her brother 
 quite drove away her ill feeling, and she became more 
 gracious to her companion as they walked along. After 
 all, he had done her a service, for, as she thought of it, 
 she was in a predicament ; and if no one had chanced to 
 come her way, even if she had not sunk deeper in the 
 marsh, she might never have been able to extricate her- 
 self, and might have died of cold and starvation there 
 in the lonely wood. At the thought of this she 
 relented still further, and they were laughing gayly by 
 the time they reached the outbuildings of the Silver- 
 thorn farm. The lad had such a cheery, unaffected 
 way with him, that in his presence Marianne forgot to 
 be resentful ; but once his back was turned and she was 
 left standinof in the woodhouse, she realized that she 
 
NEW FRIENDS 75 
 
 was in the hands of the enemy, and all her complacent 
 acceptance of the situation died within her. 
 
 But the feeling did not have time to acquire bitter- 
 ness before Kate Silverthorn appeared. Hers was a 
 bonny face, showing honest blue-gray eyes, a nose just 
 a trifle tip-tilted, and a mouth with sweet, smiling 
 curves. Around her smooth forehead clustered curHng 
 brown locks, and her homespun gown, open at the neck, 
 displayed a round white throat. 
 
 She hurried toward Marianne, holding out both 
 hands. "This is too bad," she said. "Jack has just 
 been telhng me that you fell into a bog. How did you 
 manage to get out ? " 
 
 " He pulled me out," Marianne told her, half- 
 reluctantly. 
 
 " That was good. I am glad he was there to do it. 
 Let me take off those stiff shoes and stockings." She 
 was down on her knees in a minute. 
 
 " No, no ! " protested Marianne. But Kate laughed 
 and said coaxingly : "Just let me do it. You have 
 such little feet that unfortunately my shoes will not fit 
 you, but Sue's will be a little better. I will run into the 
 house and get them. Stay right here. No one will 
 see you. I will lock the door behind me." And 
 Marianne was left a veritable prisoner for a few 
 minutes. 
 
 Presently Kate returned with a pan of warm water 
 
j6 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 and the necessary articles of clothing. " There," she 
 said, "you'll soon look like yourself. I want to see 
 your brother's face when you come in with me. He 
 hasn't an idea that you are anywhere about." 
 
 '' He is still here then .? " 
 
 " Oh, yes, he comes nearly every day with Jack. 
 You see, they are in the militia and can get away. 
 There, you look fine ! That blue is very becoming. 
 Here, let me do your hair over." And the deft fingers 
 soon piled up Marianne's hair in a becoming twist. 
 Then Kate stood off to see the effect. " You are 
 lovely in that gown," she declared. *' It is quite long, 
 and makes ybu look ever so much taller." She 
 leaned over and kissed her visitor, and putting an arm 
 around her, drew her into the garden. Marianne felt 
 her charm and was unable to make the slightest resis- 
 tance or to conjure up any feeling of animosity ; instead, 
 her heart warmed toward this unaffected, cheery girl as 
 it had seldom done toward any one. 
 
CHAPTER V 
 
 A Surprise for Royal 
 
 WHEN the two girls had reached the porch, 
 Kate paused with a suppressed laugh, then 
 she beckoned Marianne around to where, through a 
 half-open doorway, she could see the group in the 
 room beyond. Here, before the crackhng open fire, 
 sat Royal, Jack, and Sue. They were roasting chest- 
 nuts in the hot embers and appeared to be thor- 
 oughly enjoying themselves. Jack had emptied his 
 pockets of the nuts he had remembered to gather at 
 the last moment, and they lay in a shining brown 
 heap upon the hearth. 
 
 '' It was a sight, I assure you," Jack was saying, 
 "to see the American's general. Van Rensselaer, 
 with old Judge Peck in cocked hat and carrying a 
 big sword, riding up and down, trying to get their 
 brave troops to come over and fight us. But not an 
 inch would they budge ; they simply stood there and 
 sulked. If that's the kind of soldiers we have to 
 confront, who run at the first sound of a bugle, there 
 will not be much of a war. We have a lot of prison- 
 
 77 
 
yS A LOYAL LASS 
 
 crs. Did you see General Scott ? He is a fine-looking 
 fellow, if ever there was one. " 
 
 "No, I didn't see him," returned Royal, ''but I did 
 see what must have been gall and bitterness to the 
 other side, — their heroes of Tippecanoe and the garri- 
 sons of Mackinac and Detroit, five hundred or so, I 
 should say. We marched them from Fort Erie to 
 Fort George, and a parade we made of it that must 
 have been a dose to the Americans." 
 
 Here he was interrupted by a figure which came 
 flying in through the doorway, — a figure clad in a 
 blue Empire gown, which, falling to her feet in soft 
 folds, made her look taller than she really was. With 
 scarlet cheeks and snapping eyes the girl cried : 
 " American yourself. Royal Reyburn. Suppose it had 
 been your father who was driven along like an ox, 
 could you have borne to see it ? For shame on you, 
 to boast of the woes of your countrymen ! " 
 
 Royal sprang to his feet, surprise and confusion 
 written upon his face. " Marianne, how in the world 
 came you here ? " he exclaimed. 
 
 "I'll explain," Kate made answer. "Jack discovered 
 your sister in the woods, where she had made a mis- 
 step and had fallen into a bog. You know what a 
 rainy autumn we have had, and there are many 
 treacherous spots under the fallen leaves. Jack pulled 
 her out, it seems, and brought her here to us, that 
 
A SURPRISE FOR ROYAL 79 
 
 she might dry her clothes and get rid of the mud 
 upon them. If it were not for the discomfort she 
 has undergone, I should be glad of an accident which 
 has given us an opportunity of making her acquain- 
 tance." And she smiled down on Marianne, but met 
 no response, for her visitor was still smarting from 
 the effects of her brother's speech. 
 
 ''You ought to suffer for it," Marianne went on, 
 still addressing Royal, "and when your own father 
 was wounded and is still a prisoner, it shows you 
 are very heartless. You will be a prisoner yourself 
 some day, and perhaps you will find it no laughing 
 matter. As for General Van Rensselaer," she turned 
 to Jack, "he was ill when he went on the field of 
 battle. He carried away five painful wounds. Was 
 he a coward ? And General Scott wore his bravest 
 regimentals, and by so doing became all the more a 
 target for your men. Was he a poltroon ? And I 
 have heard even your own soldiers say that no fiercer 
 nor braver attack was ever made than by our men 
 who stormed Queenston Heights. Before this war is 
 over you will not be laughing at the exploits of my 
 countrymen, I'll venture to say ; and by that time you 
 may be old enough to do something more than play 
 at soldiering." There was silence all around ; but at 
 last Royal said, a little awkwardly, " But, you see, 
 Marianne, we didn't know you were listening." 
 
8o A LOYAL LASS 
 
 " It doesn't make any difference who was listening. 
 You can jest at the misfortunes of your own people, 
 and that is enough. I want to go home, if you 
 please," she said, turning to Kate. '' I don't care if 
 my clothes are wet." 
 
 *' No, please," Kate's voice began coaxingly ; ''we'll 
 not mention the war nor anything approaching it. 
 We are not responsible for all the dreadful things 
 that are done. Please let us be friends, even if we 
 don't think exactly alike. You cannot, you ought not, 
 to go home alone, for the country is overrun with all 
 sorts of riffraff. What with the soldiers and the 
 Indians and the refugees, no one on the border is 
 safe. Do stay with us and don't mind what our 
 brothers say; I'm sure I wouldn't." She shot a saucy 
 look at Royal. "This is my sister Sue," she went 
 on. " You haven't met her yet. Let me whisper 
 something in your ear : Sue is half on your side. 
 She always stands up for the Americans." 
 
 Here was one friend at court, and Marianne looked 
 at Sue with more favor. This other sister was not 
 unlike her brother and sister, except that her features 
 were more dehcate and her eyes and mouth more 
 serious. She was taller and more slender than Kate, 
 too. Marianne put her hand into Sue's extended one 
 and responded to its warm pressure. 
 
 '' You see," Sue told her, *' we were Americans once; 
 
A SURPRISE FOR ROYAL 8i 
 
 that is, our grandparents were. The family lived in 
 New York from the settlement of the colony till the 
 Revolutionary War, and then my grandfather, being 
 a loyaHst, fled across the border into Canada." 
 
 *' By loyalist you mean Tory," said Marianne, bluntly. 
 
 ** Yes, if you like that word better. He called him- 
 self loyal to the king. He was an EngHsh subject 
 before the war broke out, and he kept on being one ; 
 that was all. He thought he had a right to." A 
 merry, mischievous look came into her eyes as she 
 said this, and Marianne felt that she was showing 
 rather an aggressive spirit. 
 
 "Of course he had a right to," she returned, with 
 more exhibition of tolerance, " only I don't see how he 
 could think he ought not to stay and fight for freedom." 
 
 "I don't either," Sue replied, "but then, you know, 
 we don't all think alike. Don't let's talk about it 
 any more. Come over here and sit down by the fire, 
 and let Jack roast you some chestnuts. You deserve 
 a big share, for he says you helped him to gather 
 them." 
 
 There was no resisting this sweetness, and Marianne 
 yielded, feeling that she had been rather ungracious, 
 and that she might take a lesson from these sisters of 
 him whom she had termed a discourteous boy. Yet 
 in her character of young lady Jack's deference to 
 her was very noticeable, and the members of the Httle 
 
82 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 party before the fire soon were laughing and talking, 
 becoming better friends every moment, though it was 
 chiefly to the girls that Marianne unbent; for she did 
 not intend that Jack should be admitted to her good 
 graces. The short afternoon had nearly gone when 
 she came to a realizing sense that it was getting very 
 dark, and she looked quite aghast. " Oh," she cried, 
 *' I ought to have been home an hour ago." 
 
 "Don't go," begged her entertainers. ''Stay all 
 night with us. It is so late for you to be going 
 home, and we should so Hke to have you." 
 
 " But they will miss me, and will wonder where I 
 am and will be so worried," Marianne objected. 
 
 ** I'll ride over and tell them where you are," Jack 
 offered. "They know me. I have been there often." 
 
 " I never saw you there," Marianne returned. 
 
 " No ; it has just happened that you haven't seen 
 me. I don't always go to the house. We haven't 
 been living very long on this place, for we used to 
 live farther up the country ; and that is why you and 
 the girls have never met before, I suppose. Please 
 stay." 
 
 "Do you Hke pumpkin cake.-*" Kate asked. "We 
 are going to have some for supper." 
 
 If there was anything that Marianne did like, it 
 was pumpkin cake ; that mixture of pumpkin and corn- 
 meal, sweetened with maple sugar, spiced, and baked. 
 
A SURPRISE FOR ROYAL 83 
 
 had always been something that she considered a great 
 treat. She looked out of the window. It certainly was 
 dark. She looked down at her little boots drying 
 before the fire. 
 
 Kate stooped to feel them. "They are still very 
 wet, you see." 
 
 "You'd better stay, Marianne," said her brother; 
 and Marianne doubtfully consented. " Only I don't 
 like to have you go so far for me." She turned her 
 blue eyes on Jack, and in them he saw the first gentle 
 expression she had yet shown him. 
 
 " I'd go twice as far," he said, in a low, eager voice; 
 and she felt her cheeks grow hot under his look. To 
 hide her confusion she tossed her head with a saucy 
 laugh. " Little boys don't usually like to go on 
 errands," she said. 
 
 Jack laughed, too, and from one to the other passed 
 a look of understanding. 
 
 " What are you two laughing at ? " Kate asked. 
 
 " At each other," Marianne repHed. Then she 
 nodded to Jack. " If you like to go, very well ; but 
 I would rather stay, if I were you." 
 
 " So I w^ould," Jack answered quickly. 
 
 " Oh, then I wouldn't have you go for the world," 
 Marianne made haste to assure him ; and Jack stam- 
 mered that he only wanted to please her, and what- 
 ever she desired was his wish. And he made such a 
 
84 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 mess of it that Kate had to come to his relief by say- 
 ing : ** We all know what you want to say, Jack. Just 
 go along and hurry back. We'll wait supper for you." 
 
 " I'll take Duke ; he's the fastest horse on the place," 
 said Jack, as he hurried from the room. 
 
 They had been having such a cosey time of it, just 
 this group of young people, that Marianne quite for- 
 got that there were probably other members of the 
 family ; and she was rather taken aback when two 
 men strode into the kitchen, where the three girls 
 were busy over the preparations for supper. " This 
 is Royal Reyburn's sister Marianne, father. Grand- 
 father, you haven't met Miss Reyburn," were the words 
 with which Kate presented her; and Marianne was 
 suddenly conscious that here was the grandfather whom 
 she had called a Tory, and whose actions she had dis- 
 cussed with Sue. He was rather a fierce-looking old 
 fellow, she thought, and she felt that she would rather 
 not bring up the subject of politics before him. She 
 hoped he would not introduce the subject, and was 
 half sorry that she had consented to remain. Kate's 
 father she liked better, and saw at once how Jack 
 had become possessed of his good nature and his love 
 of teasing; for when Grandfather Silverthorn left the 
 room, his son began lazily to ask the girls if they had 
 sent Jack for the doctor, that he had ridden off in such 
 hot haste. 
 
A SURPRISE FOR ROYAL 85 
 
 " No," Sue explained ; " he went to tell them at 
 Madame Desvouges's that Marianne would stay with 
 us all night." 
 
 '' He was in the mischief of a hurry to get there," 
 said Mr. Silverthorn, with a quizzical look at Marianne. 
 
 " He wanted to get back to supper," put in Kate. 
 ** We are going to have pumpkin cake, and no doubt 
 he is afraid he will not get his share if he does not 
 hurry." 
 
 Mr. Silverthorn laughed. "Judging by the way he 
 was riding, I should say that he thought there was 
 some other sweet thing for him to hurry back for." 
 
 Marianne caught his teasing look, and blushed scar- 
 let. Kate shook her head at him, and went on to 
 say, " You are quite right, father ; we are going to 
 have some honey." 
 
 " Come here, honey," said Mr. Silverthorn, turning 
 to Marianne. And then she could but join in the 
 laugh that followed, while half angry, half pleased, 
 she dropped him a curtsey, and stood smiling down 
 at him as he lounged on the big settle by the fire. 
 
 "You're not a bit like your brother," he said. 
 
 " No," returned Marianne, " I am like my father." 
 
 " And he is about five feet one or two in his stock- 
 ings .'' " Mr. Silverthorn asked quizzically. 
 
 " No, he is six feet two ; but except for height I 
 am exactly like him, only my skin is not so fair." 
 
86 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 "Must be a pretty good-looking man," Mr. Silver- 
 thorn added. '* Lll be switched, if there isn't Jack 
 back again. That horse must be in a perfect lather. 
 I'll have to go out and look to it that Jack gives him 
 a good rubbing down. See here. Miss Marianne, if 
 you send my boy off on many such trips, I'll have to 
 fix him up a flying machine, or else he'll ruin my 
 horses." And the man went out, leaving his daugh- 
 ters laughing at Marianne's confusion. 
 
 ''You mustn't mind father," they told her. *' He 
 jokes with everybody and has always been the greatest 
 tease ; but he is the dearest father in the world, and 
 ever since our mother died he has been father and 
 mother both to us. Grandfather can be pretty sharp 
 sometimes, but father never is." 
 
 Royal had gone out to help with the evening's chores 
 in Jack's absence, and presently all came in together, 
 ready for the pumpkin cake, which, done to a turn in 
 the bake-kettle, was set smoking hot upon the table. 
 
 Kate's quickness of wit saved Marianne any wounded 
 feelings, for, though the subject of the war was begun, 
 she turned it into a channel of reminiscence, and Mari- 
 anne found herself deeply interested in those tales of 
 hardship which the refugees had to tell. She looked 
 with renewed interest at the tall old clock, the weather- 
 beaten chairs, and the other carefully preserved pieces 
 of furniture, reUcs of a former luxury, and it gave her 
 
A SURPRISE FOR ROYAL ^y 
 
 a new respect for these jDeople, to learn how cheerfully 
 they had accepted privation and discomfort for con- 
 science' sake. 
 
 "Yes," said Mr. Silverthorn, as he rose from the 
 table, ''the only gown my wife had when we were 
 married was of deerskin ; that was her wedding-dress, 
 and she came near not having that." 
 
 " Why } " Marianne asked, much interested. 
 
 "She took it off to wash it for the great occasion. 
 Deerskin lasts pretty well, but it does get greasy, so 
 Kitty thought she'd be specially particular and use 
 lye for it, soap being scarce, but, bless my soul! it 
 shrank away to nothing, and she hadn't anything to 
 wear but a blanket till all the women folks around got 
 together and helped her get a new deerskin ready for 
 her wedding. It looked for a time as if we'd have to 
 put off getting married, but they got her rigged up 
 finely, after all; at any rate I thought so. I wasn't 
 thinking of what she had on; it was the girl herself 
 that was in my mind." He gave a sigh, and Kate 
 said softly : " And mother often told us it was the 
 happiest day of her Hfe. She often used to tell us 
 that story, to show us that fine clothes aren't necessary 
 for happiness." 
 
 Marianne glanced down at the blue dress she wore 
 and smiled. 
 
 "That is the one bit of finery we possess," Kate told 
 
88 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 her. " It belonged to our grandmother, and we made 
 it over a few years ago for Sue ; but now she has out- 
 grown it, yet it is full long for you. Doesn't Mari- 
 anne look well in it, grandfather.?" 
 
 The old man turned his sharp eyes upon Marianne, 
 who wondered how he would like the idea of her 
 parading around in his wife's one fine gown, if he had 
 known her dislike of Tories ; but he made no comment, 
 only nodded assent and walked from the room. 
 
 Very amicably did the grandchildren of Tory and 
 Whig spend their evening, and Marianne went to bed 
 feeling as if she must love these new friends, whatever 
 side their ancestors had fought upon; and she parted 
 from them the next morning with promise to see them 
 soon again. Royal and Jack escorted her back to her 
 grandmother's house, which she reached none the 
 worse for her adventure. 
 
 It was when she came again into her father's presence 
 and saw him still pale and weak from his wounds, that 
 she fully appreciated the fact that she must make an- 
 other effort to start the ball rolling which would urge 
 on the plan she had made for his escape. If he had 
 belonged to the militia instead of to the regular 
 troops, he would simply be paroled and returned home, 
 as were the other militiamen, and the matter would be 
 very simply adjusted ; but to think of his being sent to 
 Quebec to wait for exchange, was not to be thought of. 
 
A SURPRISE FOR ROYAL 89 
 
 She gave a full account of her visit to the Silver- 
 thorns, and her father listened gravely, shaking his 
 head when she told him of her adventure in the 
 woods. " It was fortunate that it was no one but a 
 good-hearted lad that you met. I do not want my 
 little girl to be running wild in the woods and about 
 the country when hordes of soldiers are gathering ; and 
 if the Indians are on the war-path and learn that you 
 are the daughter of an American, what can you 
 expect. No, no, my child; let matters take their 
 course." 
 
 This Marianne was determined not to do, though 
 she said no more at the time, but went to Victorine 
 to relate her adventures. She received a scolding 
 for running off alone, and Victorine made minute in- 
 quiries about her entertainers, at first a little disposed 
 to discourage the acquaintance. " What are they like, 
 these girls ? " she asked. 
 
 Marianne described them in glowing terms. 
 
 " I have heard Royal speak of them, but I did not 
 know they were such intimate friends," she said mus- 
 ingly. " I think it is the one you call Kate that he 
 likes best." 
 
 '' Oh, I don't know. What makes you think so ? 
 When have you seen them } " 
 
 " I have not seen them," said Victorine, '' but," with 
 a wistful little smile, " the last time he mentioned them 
 
90 
 
 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 he called her sJic, and when he spoke of her sister he 
 called her by her name." 
 
 Marianne pondered over this for a moment. " Any- 
 how," she said, " he didn't talk to one more than the 
 other. He likes Jack — I mean the brother ; and it is 
 convenient and pleasant for him to have a place like 
 that to go to." 
 
 "Instead of coming here." 
 
 " He doesn't come here, because he thinks it would 
 distress father to see him." 
 
 " Perhaps. You haven't told me yet why it was 
 that you went off in that naughty way." 
 
 " I am not going to tell. I said I meant to run 
 away. Don't you remember.? And one may have 
 secrets." 
 
 " Oh, yes, one may." 
 
 " You have yours ? " 
 
 "Yes, I have mine." Victorine spoke with a little 
 sigh. 
 
 "Vic, dear," Marianne leaned over and kissed her, 
 " I would tell you if I could, but I can't now. Per- 
 haps — yes, I am sure I will some day, and then you 
 will tell me, too." 
 
 Victorine drew a needle from the stocking she was 
 knitting and began the next row before she answered. 
 " I cannot promise." 
 
 "Well, then, we will leave it." And she spoke no 
 
A SURPRISE FOR ROYAL 91 
 
 more of her secret, though it was on her mind night 
 and day how she could carry out her schemes for 
 her father's deHverance. The river was guarded by 
 pickets ; there were encampments on both sides, bat- 
 teries above and below ; desertions were frequent, and 
 those in sympathy with the Americans listened anx- 
 iously to the reports of disease and disaffection in 
 the camps. 
 
CHAPTER VI 
 
 Schemmg 
 
 NEARLY every day Royal and Jack made their 
 appearance at the house of Madame Desvouges, 
 but it was a rare chance that gave them a sight of 
 Marianne. She was more disposed to become good 
 friends with Sue and Kate than with their brother, 
 for while the exchange of visits between the girls 
 was frequent, Marianne took care that her visits were 
 made when Jack was not at home. 
 
 Her father was now nearly well, and the question 
 of his being transferred to some other point became 
 one that must be settled very soon. Only out of 
 consideration to Royal and by the influence of his 
 friends had his case been left unsettled. 
 
 "If they take him away," Marianne made her plaint 
 to Victor, ''they will perhaps send him to some of 
 those dreadful places we hear about; and even if he 
 were allowed a parole, he would not be able to fight." 
 
 "Perhaps he will soon be exchanged," Victor tried 
 to comfort her by saying. "That would not be a 
 bad fate at all. It has been very pleasant, I am sure, 
 
 92 
 
SCHEMING ' 93 
 
 for the family to be all here together, even if your 
 father and brother do not meet." 
 
 Marianne turned away impatiently. " You don't 
 understand what it means to father and me not to 
 be actively at work for our own country. You have 
 no special country, and what do you care which side 
 wins } There is no use asking your help in the matter; 
 that is plain to see." 
 
 '' I have a country, and I am loyal to it," Victor 
 returned. 
 
 " No, no, you are not, for this is not a struggle 
 between French and English, and you are French. 
 Don't talk to me about your being loyal, I don't want 
 to hear it." 
 
 Victor was discomfited ; he realized that he was not 
 making much headway in Marianne's good graces. 
 
 "I'd help any way that I could, but I don't see 
 what can be done," he said helplessly. " If you would 
 only tell me." 
 
 " If you can't see of your own accord, there is 
 no use trying to make you," returned Marianne, 
 impatiently. 
 
 "You know I'd do anything in the world to please 
 you." 
 
 "Then use your wits and find me a way to get 
 back home with my father," she said, as she walked 
 away. 
 
94 
 
 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 Victor felt that he was between two fires. His 
 desire to please Marianne, and his desire to keep her 
 where she was, conflicted. She would never cease to 
 reproach him if he did not make some effort to liber- 
 ate her father, and yet he was a British prisoner whose 
 own son was his captor. If Royal could not find a 
 means to get him decently exchanged, how could he 
 be expected to do it ? Victor was faithful, but he was 
 not brilliant, though inadvertently he did play into 
 Marianne's hands. 
 
 He came to the girl with an air of mystery one day. 
 "There is some one out in the barn who wants to 
 speak to you," he said. He looked cautiously around 
 as he made the announcement. 
 
 Madame Desvouges and Victorine were busy in one 
 corner of the kitchen; Marianne in the other was at 
 work paring apples. She looked up quickly. " Very 
 well," she replied. " I will come directly I have 
 finished these, that is— Who is it, Victor.?" 
 
 "The old pedler. He says he has something to 
 tell you about the bracelet." 
 
 Marianne nodded. " I will come as soon as I have 
 pared these apples." 
 
 Victor sat down beside her. " I will help you." 
 
 Madame Desvouges from the other side of the room 
 watched them with a pleased look. " They grow con- 
 fidential, those two," she whispered to Victorine. " It 
 
SCHEMING 95 
 
 is an ill wind that blows no one good ; and when two 
 young people are thrown together day after day — 
 well, one knows what is likely to be the result. We 
 have never been able before to keep Marianne with 
 us for so long a time." 
 
 "Why is Asa Peaslee so secret in his coming.? 
 Why didn't he come to the house ? " Marianne asked 
 in a low tone. 
 
 '' That I cannot say, but he seemed desirous of not 
 being seen." 
 
 " I wonder how in the world he happened to know 
 I was here." 
 
 " He did not know till he asked me of your 
 whereabouts. He knew I lived here, it seems." 
 
 " They do not wish to be heard," said grandmamma, 
 significantly. " We will not try to overhear them, 
 will we, Victorine ? " She laughed a little pleased 
 chuckle. ''Start the loom and let them talk." 
 
 But presently Marianne brought the apples over 
 to the table. " They are all ready, grandmamma. I 
 am going to the barn to hunt eggs. With the army 
 so near it is hard to keep supplied, and we have not 
 an Qgg left in the basket." 
 
 '' Go, then," said her grandmother. She watched 
 the two depart, and her satisfied air was very obvious 
 to Marianne ; it half annoyed her. Grand'mere was 
 too ready to thrust Victor upon her, she was beginning 
 
96 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 to see, and it would have been better for his cause 
 if there had been less eagerness on the part of the 
 good lady. 
 
 Once out of the house, Marianne ran ahead to the 
 barn, where, sitting on a pile of hay, she found Asa 
 Peaslee. " Go, you, and hunt the eggs, and don't come 
 back till I call you," she ordered Victor. *' I want to 
 talk to our friend here. How are you, Mr. Peaslee ? " 
 
 *'Wal, I'm 'bout as usual; pretty smart in body, 
 though I must say Fm considerable upset in mind." 
 
 "Why is that.?" 
 
 *' Oh, these blamed fools o' gin'rals make me sick. 
 That pompous old Smyth is the biggest idiot that 
 I ever did see. He's all gab; and if he 'mounts to a 
 row of pins, Lm mistaken. But there ! I didn't come 
 over here to talk about him. It's a wonder I got 
 acrost at all, but I did. They know me, and I jest 
 snuck over above here. Found an Injun that showed 
 me a way." 
 
 ''Oh, how did you come.? Do tell me," Marianne 
 broke in eagerly. 
 
 Asa nodded his head with a sly wink. '* I wa'n't 
 born yist'day. You don't ketch me. What I come 
 to this here place is to see if you'd got that there 
 bit of a bracelet yit. Ain't lost it, hev ye ? " 
 
 " No, I have it safe enough ; but why do you want 
 to know ? " 
 
SCHEMING 97 
 
 ** 'Cause that there old Injun squaw's been pesterin' 
 the Ufe out o' me to git it back for her; says it's a 
 sort o' — what d'ye call it ? — amulet or somethin', and 
 she's had bad luck ever sence she parted with it ; wants 
 to git it back at any cost." 
 
 " Oh, and you think you'll make a good bargain 
 with her; I see." 
 
 " Now, ain't you a suspicious young miss ? Jest 
 you wait a bit. I don't calc'late to make nawthin' off 
 the old soul. Lord ! she's wore out the calico I give 
 her for it long ago ; but, wal, her and her son's been 
 pretty good to me, and I'd ought to show 'em some 
 'preciation of it. Now, jest let's us come to business. 
 What'U you take for it.?" 
 
 Marianne considered the matter. *' I don't know. I 
 am not sure that I want to part with it. I shall have 
 to think about it." 
 
 " Mebbe I've got suthin' along with me that you'd 
 like better. I ain't over here peddUn', to be sure, but 
 then I dunno's I couldn't git ye what ye want, and 
 send it to ye when I git back." 
 
 " You are goin' back ? When ? How ? " 
 
 " That's neither here nor there. There's more ways 
 of kilHn' a dog than by chokin' him with soft butter. 
 I'm a-goin', and, as the Bible says, an' that right airly." 
 
 Marianne leaned forward and looked at him stead- 
 fastly. The shrewd gray eyes met hers honestly, 
 
98 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 and the humorous mouth gave her a twisted smile. 
 *' I'm a purty crittur, ain't I ? " he said with a chuckle. 
 ** Look as long as ye want. I ain't the blushin' 
 kind." 
 
 Marianne laughed. Then she said in a low voice : 
 '' I thought you were a true, loyal American." 
 
 He looked around cautiously, put both hands on 
 his knees, leaned forward, and whispered back, " So 
 I am. Ain't you ? " 
 
 •'To my heart's core." 
 
 "That's what I thought." 
 
 " My father was wounded in the attack on Queens- 
 ton." 
 
 " So I heerd tell." 
 
 " He is a prisoner there in my grandmother's 
 house." 
 
 Asa nodded. 
 
 Marianne leaned still closer and whispered still 
 lower, ** Are you a spy.-'" 
 
 Asa drew down his face. '' Don't like the eepithet. 
 You're true blue ? I kin trust ye ? " 
 
 " To the utmost." 
 
 •'\Val, then, Lm here for my country's intrus'. I 
 guess Lve found out what I come for, and I'm goin' 
 back with w^hat no man kin find on my pusson. Good 
 reason why — 'tain't there; it's all in this timepiece." 
 And he tapped his head. 
 
SCHEMING 99 
 
 Marianne sat with her chin in her hands, her 
 thoughts busy. 
 
 "What about that bracelet?" Asa asked, breaking 
 the silence. 
 
 ** I will let you have it upon one condition. I think 
 the good God has sent you to help us. If you will 
 help me to invent a plan for my father's escape, you 
 shall have the bracelet. I know you are a shrewd 
 man, and the Yankees, they tell me, are very inven- 
 tive ; so, now, here is a chance to exercise your wits." 
 
 ''Blamed if I don't do it." He thought a moment, 
 then struck his knee hard. " You've hit it ; the brace- 
 let will do the business. That's a happy thought. 
 The old squaw can help us out." 
 
 Marianne clapped her hands. " To be sure, and 
 that will carry out my first plan. Let me tell you 
 about it. I started out one day, thinking I would go 
 to the Indian village and see if I could get some 
 paint and things to disguise my father, and then I 
 thought he could at least escape from the house 
 undetected. I thought we would dress up like Ind- 
 ians, he and I, and escape to the woods and hide 
 there, and maybe we could avoid the pickets and get' 
 across the river in some way. I was going to offer 
 the bracelet to the Indians ; for father told me it was 
 not a common thing, and that it might be of use 
 some day. I hadn't quite settled it all, for I fell 
 
loo A LOYAL LASS 
 
 into a bog, and since then they have not let me go 
 off by myself." 
 
 Asa regarded her admiringly. ''You've got a head- 
 piece, and I guess two heads is better than one, if 
 one is a pumpkin head. You've got the right idear, 
 and we'll work on that, and see how's the best w^ay 
 to carry it out." 
 
 " It must be soon, for my brother is responsible for 
 my father. He is his prisoner." 
 
 Asa stared. " What ye talking about ? Yer brother .? " 
 
 "Yes, my brother is on the enemy's side. He be- 
 longs to the militia; and it was he who found my 
 father wounded, and rescued him from the Indians. 
 I should hate to have any trouble come to Royal, 
 but father must be helped away. Do you suppose 
 they would think Royal had contrived his father's 
 escape ? He has given his word that he will deliver 
 him up when it is required of him, and my grand- 
 mother, too, promised that he, should be guarded as 
 any other prisoner. It was only on that account 
 that they were allowed to take him to her house." 
 
 ''We'll have to see into that. You're like that old 
 fellow we used to read about when I was a little 
 chap: avoidin' Scylly he fell onto Charybdus." He 
 leaned back against his pile of hay, and meditatively 
 pulled his beard, much the color of the hay itself. 
 Presently he began to chuckle to himself. "That 
 
SCHEMING loi 
 
 would be a joke," he said, "a big joke." He wagged 
 his head in enjoyment of the thought. " Brother's in 
 militia.?" 
 
 *'Yes." 
 
 '* 'Spose they ever give him picket dooty?" 
 
 ** I suppose so. Yes, I am sure of it." 
 
 **Wal, if fortune favors us, and we happen on a 
 dark night, we might be able to kill two birds with 
 one stone. I'd like nawthin' better. Jeehosophat ! 
 but that would be fun. Now, sissy, you keep quiet, 
 and to-morrer I'll come along 'bout this time. Mean- 
 while, I'll see the old Injun woman, and mebbe we kin 
 git this straightened out. She done me a good turn 
 oncet upon a time, — cured me up with her yarbs, — 
 and I happened to be able to do her son a favor, so 
 we keep on tryin' to git quits ; and this time she 
 thinks she's in my debt, and if I promise that 
 bracelet, I guess that will clinch matters." 
 
 Marianne arose to her feet. " Then I will trust it 
 all to you." 
 
 ''Ye kin." 
 
 " I know I can." She held out her hand, and the 
 old man took it gingerly, but did not fail to give it a 
 squeeze before he dropped it. 
 
 " Call yer young man, and I'll git out," he said. 
 
 Victor obediently appeared at Marianne's summons. 
 He had been patiently sitting up in the loft with his 
 
102 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 hat full of eggs. "You did find some; that's good," 
 said Marianne, in a satisfied tone. "You may bring 
 them in for me, and don't, for your life, let any one 
 know that we did not hunt them together ; and keep 
 it a dead secret about Asa Peaslee." 
 
 "What about the bracelet.?" 
 
 "Oh, the old squaw wanted to get it back again, 
 that was all." 
 
 "Did you let him have it.?" 
 
 " No, Asa is going to see what she will give for it, 
 and will let me know to-morrow." 
 
 All the next day Marianne was excited and watch- 
 ful. As evening approached, she waited her chance 
 to make an excuse to absent herself from the house. 
 Victor, her usual willing cat's-paw, was busy in the 
 garden. She would fain have offered to go and help 
 him, but she had never been too ready with such 
 offers, and she would best not do anything to arouse 
 suspicion. She knew that Roy and Jack might 
 appear that day, and she had set Victor upon the 
 watch for them. There were no eggs needed .? Yes, 
 there should be. She would see to it that there 
 were ; and before the afternoon was over, there was 
 a crash in the pantry, an exclamation of dismay, 
 and Marianne appeared at the door, crying out : " Oh, 
 grandmamma, I have overturned the egg basket in 
 trying to reach the top shelf, and alas ! I have broken 
 
SCHEMING 103 
 
 every egg. Was ever such an unfortunate ? It is all 
 due to my being such a mite. If I had been taller, 
 I would not have had to stand upon that treacherous 
 stool. What shall I do .-* I will clear up the mess at 
 once ; but there will be no eggs for supper, and you 
 had promised my father one of your own best 
 omelets. Is it not unfortunate } " 
 
 She seemed so genuinely distressed that her grand- 
 mother tried to comfort her. " Never mind, my child. 
 Of course, one is sorry for such a waste, but there 
 are others to be found, I have no doubt, and your 
 only punishment shall be that you go and hunt for 
 them." 
 
 "That I will do gladly," replied Marianne, brighten- 
 ing up. 
 
 " I will help you," Victorine volunteered. 
 
 ** Oh, I can never allow that," Marianne hastened 
 to say. " You are too good, Victorine. I ought to 
 do it all by myself for having been so naughty and 
 careless. If I allow any one to help me, it shall be 
 Victor, for it is partly his fault; he should have 
 made a better stool." 
 
 " True enough," put in Madame Desvouges, well 
 pleased. " You have a cold, Victorine ; I would not 
 go out in this keen air." 
 
 So Marianne made her escape unsuspected and 
 found Asa waiting for her, as before. **' Wal, you don't 
 
104 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 keep a feller long coolin' his heels," was his greeting, 
 ''and it's well you don't, for we've got to make hay 
 while the sun shines. Ye see, grandma and brother 
 and them mustn't know, or else it may be wuss for 
 'em. Me an' them Injuns hev concocted a plan. Old 
 squaw wunt leave a stone unturned to git back that 
 jig-a-me-rig armlet, so says I, ' Ef you help me to git 
 a man back to his hairth and hum, the bracelet you 
 shell have, as sure as my name's Asy Peaslee.' An' I 
 says to Fire-Eyes, — that's the old woman's son, 'We'll 
 call it quits if you git us all over safe.' So here's the 
 scheme : About dark this evening you and pop steals 
 out of the house and meets me here. I've got stuff 
 to rig you up Injun shape, and we'll go along, striking 
 into the woods unmolested. Pop kin walk a bit, I 
 s'pose. Ain't too weak ? " 
 
 " No, I think not. He grows stronger all the time, 
 but has pretended weakness that he might still remain 
 here, and does not venture beyond the gate. He has 
 orders to keep within bounds. We think it is intended 
 that he shall be sent to Quebec or elsewhere with 
 the next company of prisoners sent." 
 
 " Pray God there'll be no next ones," remarked Asa, 
 fervently. " Wal, then, we're all right if w^e don't 
 git nabbed. Pop kin talk Injun, I guess. I see some 
 of them red cattle comin' in here yist'day." 
 
 "Yes, they come with various things to sell." 
 
SCHEMING 105 
 
 " That's good. We'll pretend we have various 
 things to sell if we meet up with any Britishers. Now 
 all you've got to do is to make your chance to git out 
 here, and leave the rest to me. We'll flank them 
 pickets and git acrost, for it's goin' to be a dark night, 
 no moon and cloudy. Now run in, or they'll suspi- 
 cion ye." 
 
 '' I've got to hunt for eggs; that is my excuse." 
 
 "I'll help ye. I guess nob'dy is better at findin' 
 things than Asy Peaslee." He was as good as his 
 word, and was not many minutes in finding a nest of 
 eggs, which he made over to Marianne, who ran quickly 
 to the house with them. 
 
 It required some contriving to arrange it so that 
 her father could leave the house unobserved. First 
 Marianne must find a chance to give him a whispered 
 account of her interview with Asa. Then Mr. Rey- 
 burn declared that he must not leave his wife, and 
 Marianne was in a quandary. " I don't want to leave 
 mother, either," she said. " But, father, if you are 
 carried off and should be sent to England to prison, 
 you would have to leave her, and in much worse 
 manner. We will find a way for her to come to 
 us ; and if she knew, she would feel that her mother 
 ought to be told, so you see — you know how it 
 would be." 
 
 Her father nodded. " I see, but it seems a 
 
io6 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 cowardly thing to leave women behind to bear the 
 brunt of my escape." 
 
 ''You would do worse to bear the brunt of your 
 being carried off. This is much less dreadful. Do, 
 dearest father, consent. The time is short, and 
 mother will be so glad to know that you are safe at 
 home. She would stand by you, of course, if she 
 knew, but she is excitable, and could not keep it to 
 herself. Every one would know that something unus- 
 ual was on hand." 
 
 At last Mr. Reyburn was won over, and consented 
 to announce that he would take a nap, and being left 
 alone would cHmb out the window, his room being 
 on the ground floor, and would meet Marianne in the 
 barn. To Marianne's relief all went well so far, and 
 if Mrs. Reyburn wondered why her husband and 
 daughter were so unusually affectionate to her when 
 she left the latter to cover up her father for his pro- 
 posed nap, she ceased to wonder when she found the 
 note which announced their flight. Yet, good woman 
 that she was, she did not tell her secret that night, 
 and rejoiced rather than regretted their going, being 
 anxious only that they should reach their destination 
 in safety. 
 
CHAPTER VII 
 
 An Exchange of Prisojiers 
 
 IT was dark when two figures clad in Indian garb 
 stole out of Madame Desvouges's barn, and under 
 cover of the shadows of evening were able to get to 
 the woods without discovery. Asa Peaslee, startUngly 
 arrayed in the red coat of a British soldier, met them. 
 " We were so afraid Victor or some one would come 
 into the barn while we were getting ready," said 
 Marianne, in a hysterical whisper. "We were going 
 to hide in the hay if we heard any one, but as good 
 luck had it, not a soul saw us except the old white 
 horse. Do you think we shall get through all 
 right?" 
 
 ** As long as we are out of the way of the 
 patrol, we needn't fear," Asa told her. " We've got 
 some weapons hid up here in the hollow, and we'd 
 ought to be able to defend ourselves against more 
 than one man. If any one must bite the dust, it will 
 have to be the Britisher." 
 
 They followed along, one after the other, Indian 
 fashion, through the dark woods, Asa leading the 
 
 107 
 
io8 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 way. It seemed a grewsome journey to Marianne, 
 used, though she was, to forest ways. When they had 
 reached a certain hollow tree, Asa stopped and drew 
 from it a rifle, which he handed to Mr. Reyburn. 
 Then he gave Marianne a pistol, saying, " I guess 
 you know how to use that when occasion requires." 
 
 The girl in her deerskins, looking Hke a funny little 
 Indian lad, stuck the pistol in her belt and replied : 
 " I don't believe I shall need any one to show me 
 how to aim straight, but I am not sure whether my 
 courage will hold out, i| it is light enough to see the 
 thing at which I must shoot." 
 
 " I guess when it comes to a question of self- 
 defence, you'll be all right," Asa remarked, — an answer 
 which did not add to Marianne's peace of mind. 
 
 After keeping to the road for some time they 
 struck into the road leading to St. David's, and 
 finally made the branch road, which would take them 
 to the Heights. At the angle of these roads stood 
 the remnant of the Hamilton house, battered by the 
 American guns on the day of the battle of Queens- 
 ton. " There is a battery not far off," said Asa, 
 under his breath ; " we must fight shy of that, and get 
 down the cUffs as best we can. You can manage 
 it, I hope, sir." 
 
 '' I managed to climb up, and I've no doubt I can 
 climb down again," replied Mr. Reyburn, grimly; 
 
AN EXCHANGE OF PRISONERS 109 
 
 and the scramble down the steep cHff s began, — an 
 almost perpendicular cHmb, rendered possible only by 
 the presence of the trees and bushes which held fast 
 to the crannies of the rocks. Yet a dangerous way 
 it was, for a misstep might hurl one into the rapidly 
 flowing river beneath. They were about halfway 
 down, when from the dimness came a voice : " Halt ! 
 Who goes there } " The snapping of the branches 
 had betrayed them. 
 
 '*A friend," repHed Asa. *' Go on," he called as 
 loudly as he dared to his companions. "We're all 
 right." 
 
 "Advance friend, and give the countersign," said 
 the voice they had heard. 
 
 " It's easy enough to say advance," said Asa, " but 
 when a fellow has lost his way in the dark, advancin' 
 ain't so easy, but I'll give the countersign all right, 
 if you'll trust to the advancin' bein' down hill." 
 
 There came a chuckle from the dimness. " Go 
 ahead, I'll take the countersign," returned the voice, 
 and Asa proceeded to give it. He stood still for a 
 moment after, and muttered to himself, "I'd like 
 plaguey well to know if that fellow's above or below." 
 
 The voice of the patrol continued, " Just follow 
 this light and you'll be all right." A bit of a flame 
 flashed out, and Asa, by its hght saw that by their 
 circuitous route they had come very near to the 
 
no A LOYAL LASS 
 
 battery. He proceeded to scramble down the rocks 
 as fast as possible. '* Hold there ! " cried the patrol. 
 " You're going the wrong way." Another flash 
 showed him Asa's red coat ; and, seeing that the man 
 had no idea of advancing in his direction, the patrol 
 called again, " Halt there, will you ! " 
 '' Halt yourself ! " shouted back Asa. 
 " You're trying to desert ! " shouted the patrol, and 
 his rifle rang out upon the air, the bullet passing 
 close to Asa's head. The pedler dodged behind a 
 tree, and gave an answering shot. There was the 
 sound of a faUing body which came crashing through 
 the bushes, rolling past the pedler, and on down 
 the cHff. Then there came a startled scream from 
 below, and in a moment Asa had scrambled down 
 almost to the river, to find upon a small abutment, 
 Mr. Reyburn and Marianne, the latter clinging to 
 her father. Just above in the bushes lay the body 
 of the man who had rolled down the cliff, and who 
 was stopped from going farther by a thick clump 
 of undergrowth. 
 
 ** You've struck the exact spot," announced Asa. 
 He gave a low whistle, followed by a pecuHar call, 
 and over the edge of the jutting rock came the 
 head of the Indian, Fire-Eyes. He actively scram- 
 bled upon the place where the others were standing, 
 and waited orders. 
 
AN EXCHANGE OF PRISONERS in 
 
 A slight groan came from the man in the bushes. 
 " Oh," cried Marianne, '' he is alive. Don't leave him 
 here to die." 
 
 *' We'll take him, too," returned Asa ; " the more the 
 merrier. This isn't bad; two prisoners for our side. 
 You've got the other fellow ? " he asked the Indian. 
 
 Fire-Eyes signified that he had, and then Marianne 
 was lifted down into the boat, rocking on the river. 
 She was grasped by the sinewy arms of the Indian 
 squaw. Next came Mr. Reyburn, and then the 
 wounded man ; last of all, Asa and the Indian. 
 
 " We've one more passenger than we bargained 
 for," said Asa, "but I guess we'll get over all right." 
 
 Marianne perceived that there was with them a 
 man gagged and bound ; she wondered how he 
 happened to be there. To this man Asa presently 
 addressed himself : " Soon's we git over, young man, 
 we'll take that bandage off your mouth. I dunno's 
 there's anything I'd hate wuss'n hevin' to keep my 
 mouth shet," he added, chuckling softly. 
 
 The muffled oars made no sound, and at last they 
 were safely landed, the willing and the unwilling 
 prisoners. 
 
 Marianne, half bewildered, stumbled along in the 
 darkness. Once during the silent walk the old 
 squaw laid hold of the girl's wrist, and gave a grunt 
 of satisfaction as she felt the presence of the bracelet. 
 
112 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 Marianne loosened the trinket and handed it to her. 
 She received it without a word, and stowed it away 
 in her bosom. Fire-Eyes and the little pedler bore 
 the body of the wounded man, and Mr. Reyburn kept 
 a close grasp upon the shoulder of the other prisoner. 
 Asa had removed his coat and tossed it back into the 
 boat, saying : '' If we come across any of our Yankee 
 brethren, they shan't take me for a blamed Britisher. 
 I'm about as ready to keep out of the way of my own 
 countrymen as I was out of the enemy's. What you 
 want to do, Mr. Reyburn, is to make tracks for home 
 as quick as you kin. We want to git this man some- 
 where and the gal, too. You know the way better'n 
 I do ; s'pose you lead. Keep a tight holt on your 
 man. You kin trot him into camp in the morning 
 if you want to, but we ain't goin' to let him give us 
 the slip to-night if we kin help it" The warning was 
 needed, for more than once the prisoner tried to 
 wrench himself from the grasp of his warder ; and 
 seeing this, the old squaw lent her strength to the 
 holding of the fellow. 
 
 It was a tedious and exhausting journey which at 
 last brought them into the road leading to the Reyburn 
 farm. They had encountered no patrol on this side, 
 though the camp-fires gleamed along the foot of the 
 cHffs. The Indian's sharp eyes had been on the look- 
 out before they landed, and he had discovered the 
 
AN EXCHANGE OF PRISONERS 113 
 
 form of a picket to the right of them. The boat 
 was then directed a little farther up-stream, and being 
 favored by the darkness, they were able to get under 
 shadow of some bushes before the man on picket 
 duty could come that way again. 
 
 " The dark's a good friend when you want to keep 
 out of sight," said Asa, ''but I'm blest if I wouldn't 
 like a little more light to travel home by; I'd like to 
 borry a camp-fire for a while." 
 
 Long and wearisome as the journey was, they came 
 to the end of it at last, and Marianne was glad 
 enough to see the familiar landmarks, and to hear the 
 barking of old Towser, who came bounding out to 
 meet them, and after sniffing around, yelped with joy, 
 and jumped against one and another, nearly knocking 
 Marianne down in his deHght. His barking and 
 yelping brought some one to the window. " Shut up 
 there, Towser ! Who's there ? " came from a door 
 hastily opened. 
 
 " Let us in, Jerusha," replied Mr. Reyburn. The 
 man under his grasp made a quick movement. 
 
 *' No, you don't, my fine sir," Asa exclaimed. 
 " We've got you this far with some trouble to ourselves, 
 and we'll keep you now." 
 
 " It is I, Walter Reyburn," said Mr. Reyburn in 
 answer to the query from the doorway. '' I have some 
 friends with me; you needn't be afraid to let us all in." 
 I 
 
114 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 There was an ejaculation of surprise, but the door 
 opened wider, and a lank figure with a candle peered 
 out. " Bless my soul ! " exclaimed Jerusha, " you could 
 have knocked me down with a feather when I heard 
 your voice, Mr. Reyburn. Which are you ? " She 
 peered around at the various faces, holding the candle 
 so it would fall on each in turn. 
 
 "I'm here, all right," rephed Mr. Reyburn, grimly, 
 "though I'm not surprised that you don't recognize 
 me in this rig. I'm a big Injun, Jerusha," and he 
 laughed. It was good to feel himself at Hberty 
 again. 
 
 To his laugh Jerusha responded by a dry cackle. 
 " That's proof positive, Mr. Reyburn. Come right in, 
 sir." She held the door wide open, and they passed 
 through, Asa and the Indian, Fire-Eyes, depositing 
 their burden on the floor. 
 
 "Not there," exclaimed Marianne, "put him on the 
 settle." 
 
 Jerusha stared at the little figure in deerskins. 
 " Why, land sakes ! if that ain't Mary Anne. Why, 
 I want to know ! " 
 
 "Yes, it is I, you dear old Jerusha." She hugged 
 the lank figure, in her joy at seeing her again. " Here, 
 Jerusha," she said, as soon as she had finished her 
 embrace, " help me to get our man here safely looked 
 after. I do not know how badly he is hurt." 
 
AN EXCHANGE OF PRISONERS 115 
 
 "You go 'long," said Jerusha. 'Til attend to him. 
 I guess I'm capable of it." 
 
 Meantime Mr. Reyburn and the others were busy 
 in securing the other prisoner. "We'll take off this 
 bandage, and make him comfortable," said Asa. He 
 lifted the man's fur cap from his head, and untied 
 the handkerchief which covered his mouth. As the 
 dim Hght of the candle disclosed his features, Marianne 
 gave a cry of surprise, " Father ! Father ! It is 
 Royal ! " 
 
 "Wal, I'll be switched!" exclaimed Asa; "if that 
 ain't what you might call a coincidence, I'm a sinner. 
 'Tain't your brother .? " 
 
 " It is, it is ! " Marianne's arms were around him. 
 " Oh, you poor Royal, you've been bandaged up all this 
 time and couldn't speak a word. If we had only 
 known who it was, do you suppose I would have 
 allowed you to come this distance without saying a 
 word to me ? Did you know us } " 
 
 "Not for some time," he replied doggedly. 
 
 "Mary Anne," came Jerusha's sharp voice. "This 
 here man's in want of more attention than your 
 brother. I want you should go and get me some 
 bandages. There's some in the chist in the upper 
 room." 
 
 "Is he badly hurt.?" asked Marianne, as she took 
 up the candle to light her way. 
 
ii6 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 *' He's not so terrible hurt, as near as I kin make out ; 
 but he's been bleedin' pretty freely, and he's faint. 
 I'd like a little spirits for him, Mr. Reyburn. Never 
 mind, Mary Anne can get me some." 
 
 Marianne went off to obey directions. Meantime 
 father and son faced each other. "If I had known 
 it was you, sir," said Mr. Reyburn, ''I am not so sure 
 that I could have held you with a pistol in my other 
 hand, ready to blow your brains out if you got the 
 best of me." 
 
 Royal made no reply, only stood with head thrown 
 back and defiance written on his face. His father 
 turned on his heel. "We must keep a watch over 
 him," he said. "Where is Mark.?" 
 
 " It is Royal Reyburn, your son, sir," said Jerusha, 
 turning from the man to whom she was ministering. 
 
 " I know it," was the answer, "but he is none the less 
 a prisoner, captured in the service of the enemy." 
 
 By this time Marianne had returned with the bottle 
 of spirits and some bandages. She was at no loss to 
 find things in this her own home. She leaned over the 
 man lying white and still on the settle, and seeing him 
 for the first time she gave a little smothered cry, then 
 she cried, "Oh, father, Royal, it is Jack, — poor Jack 
 Silverthorn ! What a strange, strange fataHty ! My 
 brother and his best friend our prisoners. Yet I am 
 glad, glad that we are the ones to take them." 
 
AN EXCHANGE OF PRISONERS 117 
 
 ''Who is the man ? " asked her father, coming up. 
 
 *' It is Jack Silverthorn." 
 
 " A friend of yours ? " 
 
 *' Yes, — I mean, no. He is a friend of mine, and yet 
 he is an enemy. I know his sisters, and I am very fond 
 of them; so for their sakes I am glad their brother has 
 fallen into our hands, — though, to be sure," she added, 
 " he wouldn't have been hurt but for us." 
 
 *' The man shall be made as comfortable as possible," 
 returned her father. '' Jerusha will not let him suffer 
 for want of nursing. But Marianne, my child, you 
 must go to bed. You can leave the patient and the rest 
 of us to Jerusha's good graces." 
 
 " You must go to bed, too," said the girl, tenderly. 
 " I do not see how you have held out so bravely when 
 you are not as strong as you ought to be. You will 
 remain here with us," she continued, turning to Asa 
 and the two Indians. 
 
 " I guess I know when I'm well off," Asa replied ; 
 " but these two friends of mine say they must go back 
 to-night. I'm well content to stay where I am." 
 
 " Won't you stay ? " Marianne asked the Indians. 
 "You will be very welcome." 
 
 But they thought it safer to return, as they had come, 
 in the darkness, although Mr. Reyburn added his invita- 
 tion to Marianne's. They responded gravely to all ex- 
 pressions of gratitude, assuring the family of their 
 
ii8 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 friendship and promising to remember that the hospital- 
 ity of the house was open to them. 
 
 "We are quits, though," Asa told Fire-Eyes. "I 
 don't forget that." But the old squaw shook her head, 
 and produced the bracelet as a token that she felt there 
 was still an obligation on her side. At last, after many 
 ceremonious speeches and an exchange of grave fare- 
 wells, the two Indians glided out into the night, leaving 
 the others safe in-doors. 
 
 It was strange, indeed, to Marianne to sleep under 
 her own roof again, brought thither through such pecul- 
 iar circumstances. What a twist of fortune's wheel, 
 that had made her brother her father's prisoner, after 
 the latter had been in the hands of the enemy and had 
 escaped. She was not quite sure of Asa's part in the 
 capture of her brother, and determined to ask him about 
 it. She did this later, but received no satisfaction, 
 though if the truth had been known, it was he who 
 planned that Royal should be taken by Fire-Eyes as 
 the lad was returning from a visit from the Silver- 
 thorn's. He thought it a huge joke, did Asa, but he 
 would not tell Marianne of it. After her thoughts had 
 dwelt upon Royal for a while, Marianne began thinking 
 of Jack. She wondered if he suffered much. Would 
 he be very angry with them all when he learned how 
 he had been fired upon in the discharge of his duty .'' 
 She was very sorry for his sisters, who would be dis- 
 
AN EXCHANGE OF PRISONERS 119 
 
 tressed over his condition. She cared more for their 
 feelings than for his, for they were innocent, and he 
 had been an enemy. She would Hke to get word to 
 Kate and Sue. Perhaps Asa would help her do that, 
 and send a message to her mother, too. The tears 
 came to her eyes as she thought of her mother. She 
 wondered if she were lying wide awake, worrying over 
 her beloved ones. Excited as Marianne was, she was so 
 weary in mind and body that she soon fell asleep, the 
 thought of her mother her last conscious one. 
 
CHAPTER VIII 
 
 Friend or Enemy 
 
 WHEN she awoke the next morning and saw 
 her familiar surroundings, for a moment Mari- 
 anne forgot that she had been from home all these 
 weeks; but gradually the events of the night before 
 came back clearly, and she sprang out of bed, remem- 
 bering that Jerusha would need her help. She found 
 this maid of all work had already a good fire started, 
 and was stirring' around, making breakfast ready. 
 ''What can I do, Jerusha?" Marianne asked. 
 
 *'You can go and see if the men folks are getting 
 up ; and if they are, you might ask that little whiffet 
 of a pedler how the wounded boy is, and if he can 
 eat any breakfast. I ain't had time to see to him this 
 morning, and I don't know as I need to. They was 
 all quiet when I got up. I Ustened at the door, and 
 I didn't hear nothin' but a snore." 
 
 ''Where is father.?" 
 
 "Land! he was up and off before daybreak! He 
 ain't going to let grass grow under his feet when it 
 comes to getting back to camp. He said last night 
 that he wouldn't be back to breakfast." 
 
FRIEND OR ENEMY 121 
 
 Leaving Jerusha vigorously stirring up a johnny- 
 cake, Marianne went to the door of the room where 
 the three men were, and timidly knocked. The door 
 was opened by Asa, who was keeping cheerful watch 
 over the two prisoners. On the bed lay Jack, laugh- 
 ing, actually laughing, at some of Asa's witticisms. 
 Marianne stood still in the doorway, surprised at this 
 levity on the part of the wounded prisoner. 
 
 " Come in," called Jack, cheerfully. " Isn't this a 
 huge joke.^ Peaslee has been teUing me about it." 
 
 " I don't see the joke," said Royal, looking grum. 
 
 '' Roy has no sense of humor," Jack went on. " For 
 my part, I think it is the funniest thing I've heard for 
 many a long day. You must have been surprised 
 when you got here and saw who your prisoners 
 were." 
 
 " It was owing to the dark that we didn't know 
 sooner," Marianne replied. " I don't see now why 
 we didn't recognize Royal ; but he had no chance to 
 speak, and I was so scared, and altogether we didn't 
 seem to have our wits about us. Are you much 
 hurt.?" She felt a little more kindly disposed toward 
 this young man, now he was helpless. 
 
 " No, not so much," Jack made reply. " I was 
 stunned by the bullet, and I got a rough tumbling 
 rolling down hill; but, beyond a few bruises and a 
 sprained ankle, I'm not so badly off. Asa says your 
 
122 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 father has gone to see if we can be set free on 
 parole." 
 
 "Oh, then will you stay here?" She turned to 
 Royal. 
 
 " Not necessarily," he replied. " I, for one, am 
 not willing to promise not to take up arms again." 
 
 ** Nonsense ! " broke in Jack. " I am willing enough 
 to do it; and, moreover, I don't object to staying 
 where I am. I should think you'd be glad enough 
 of your luck, Roy, when here's your home, and you've 
 a good excuse for not fighting against your people. 
 You've shown your colors, and that's all that is nec- 
 essary for you to do. So far as that goes, if it hadn't 
 been for grandfather's being so set upon my joining 
 the army, I don't believe I should have done it; at 
 least, not till things were a little more lively. I sup- 
 pose you think I would have been perfectly right if 
 I had remained a neutral. Miss Marianne." 
 
 "I don't like half-hearted people," she replied 
 coldly. Then she added: "I came up to see if you 
 could eat any breakfast." 
 
 " I ? Oh, yes. Can't I .? " He turned to Asa. 
 
 "I'd be a little keerful," returned the pedler. "A 
 bit of porridge, maybe, with a little milk." 
 
 "Porridge!" Jack made a wry face. "I'm not a 
 baby." 
 
 "You've a bit of fever," Asa warned him. 
 
This . . . is the young lady of 70/10111 you -awrr Idling vu 
 
FRIEND OR ENEMY 123 
 
 " Jerusha will fix you up something, if there's any- 
 thing to be had," Marianne promised him. She felt 
 her responsibility with a sick man in the house. So 
 she bustled about, and hunted here and there till she 
 was able to provide a couple of poached eggs for 
 Jack; and Jerusha had made ready quite an abun- 
 dant meal for the others, for Mark had started out 
 early, and had brought in some game to supply the 
 larder. It was well he did, and that Jerusha was 
 capable of exhibiting her merits as a cook, for Mr. 
 Reyburn came in just before the meal was ready, 
 and with him was no less a person than the colonel 
 of his regiment. He was quite a young man, but 
 tall and distinguished looking, and he met the little 
 frontier maid with all the courtesy in the world. " So 
 this," he said, "is the young lady of whom you were 
 telHng me, and to whom the success of your escape 
 is due." 
 
 " Oh, no," returned the blushing Marianne, " not 
 to me, for it was Asa Peaslee and his Indian friends 
 who carried out the plan." 
 
 " But it was your plan, to begin with," insisted the 
 colonel. " Now about these prisoners of yours. Miss 
 Reyburn; since they are young, and don't know any 
 better, I think we shall have to release them on 
 parole. I have consulted the general, and that is his 
 opinion. Will that suit you ? " 
 
124 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 " Indeed, yes." 
 
 "You are specially interested in them, of course." 
 
 "In my brother, of course, sir; and as the other 
 is the brother of some very good friends of mine, I 
 should Uke to see him receive the same generous 
 treatment." 
 
 " Only because he is the brother of your friends .? " 
 said the colonel, quizzically. 
 
 Marianne drew herself up to the full extent of her 
 height. "That is the only reason. Do you suppose 
 I could have any other with regard to one who is 
 my country's enemy ^ " 
 
 The colonel laughed, and asked to see this terrible 
 foe. Jack, with his boyish face and his bandaged 
 head, did not seem very formidable ; and he was so 
 ready to give his word not to take arms within the 
 time proposed by the colonel, that there was no 
 trouble at all in settUng his case. Royal was more 
 stubborn ; yet there was something in the dignified 
 courtesy of the colonel, something in the half sarcastic 
 way in which he referred to the lad's birthplace, to 
 his ancestry, and his father's loyalty to his country, 
 that finally broke down the boy's obduracy, and he 
 confessed that it was not so much a matter of 
 principle as of bravado which had caused him to 
 take the other side, and he gave his parole with 
 Jack. 
 
FRIEND OR ENEMY 125 
 
 '* Then you are safe not to fight against your coun- 
 try for a year," said the colonel. " At the end of that 
 time you may see more clearly that it would not show 
 a lack of manhood to fight for her." 
 
 Royal made no reply, but accepted with a good 
 grace the colonel's advice to say at home quietly. It 
 is doubtful if he had been quite so ready to accept the 
 situation, if his father had been present at the inter- 
 view ; but he with good judgment stayed away, and, 
 indeed, Royal did not see him again till the matter was 
 half-forgotten. 
 
 He rode back to camp with the colonel, but not 
 before he had had a talk with Marianne. " I think it 
 is best for all concerned that I remain at camp," he 
 told her. '' I shall, perhaps, be able some day to tell 
 my son that I am not ungrateful to him for having 
 saved my life, but now does not seem the best time for 
 it." 
 
 " He wasn't in a very good humor this morning," 
 Marianne confessed. " I suppose he thinks you had 
 something to do with his capture." 
 
 " Well, you can tell him I didn't. It's best that we 
 should not meet for a time, and I can leave, feeling 
 secure in your safety. I hope we can get your mother 
 home before long." 
 
 '' And I, too. Jerusha is very capable, but one does 
 want one's own mother." 
 
126 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 " Yes, I can well imagine that. I want her, too. 
 Jerusha will attend to our wounded man ; you will not 
 have anything to do there." 
 
 " He isn't very badly hurt. I thought he must be, at 
 first. I should like to get word to his family." 
 
 '' Asa tells me that he sent them a message by Fire- 
 Eyes." 
 
 " That was thoughtful of him. He is such a funny, 
 queer old fellow, that Asa ; but I think he has a very 
 good heart." 
 
 Mr. Reyburn smiled. " Yes, he is a queer Dick, but 
 he is all right. Now I must be off, daughter. I see 
 the colonel coming. Do the best you can, and if I 
 don't see you soon, I will let you hear from me." He 
 rode off, and Marianne returned to the house feeling 
 rather disappointed that her father was not to be on 
 hand to consult, and to direct affairs. 
 
 She found her days passed busily enough. There 
 was more or less excitement at this time, for there was 
 the constant expectation of an attack upon the British 
 from the Americans, and, indeed, several abortive 
 attempts to advance upon Canada were made. There 
 were days when the thunder of guns from the batteries 
 on one side or the other of the river, struck terror to 
 those living near by; but little was accomplished 
 beyond the destruction of some stores at Black Rock 
 and the injuries to General Porter's house, in which 
 
FRIEND OR ENEMY 127 
 
 he made his headquarters, being then in command of 
 a body of New York miUtia. 
 
 Had she willed it otherwise, Marianne at that time 
 had few moments for Jack, a fact of which he com- 
 plained, but only laughed good-naturedly when she 
 remarked severely that he was treated a thousand 
 times better than he deserved, and that a prisoner, 
 even on parole, could not expect more than toleration 
 from his enemies. " Are you really my enemy ? " 
 Jack would ask, and Marianne with dignity would tell 
 him that she most decidedly was. 
 
 The noise of the cannonading brought war almost to 
 their very door, and gave Marianne a big scare, but 
 Royal and Jack laughed at her fears, and Jerusha tried 
 to comfort her by saying that death must come to all, 
 and those that took the sword must expect to die by 
 the sword ; consequently, she had no reason to expect 
 death from a cannon ball. Rather peculiar logic, but 
 it had a certain effect. Jerusha, be it said, was a real 
 comfort. She had been with the family for some fif- 
 teen years, having first appeared at Madame Des- 
 vouges's, where she applied for work, and later she 
 was taken into the Reyburn family. She had little to 
 tell of herself. She was originally from Maine, and 
 had married a Canadian, whom the Reyburns supposed 
 to have been a worthless sort of fellow. Jerusha, how- 
 ever, seldom made references to her past life, but she 
 
128 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 had a fine scorn of men in general. She was brusque 
 of manner, plain of speech, energetic, capable and 
 trustworthy to a degree, and quite content and grate- 
 ful for the home offered her. She was specially fond 
 of Marianne, whom she always called Mary Anne, to 
 the girl's discontent. Whether Jerusha preferred the 
 name, or whether she used it from a grim sense of 
 humor and a desire not to cater to small vanities, no 
 one ever knew. She was in her element with the 
 responsibiUty of the housekeeping and a sick man to 
 look after ; for the greater call upon her, the better she 
 liked it. Though usually a taciturn and rather melan- 
 choly person, her spirits rose in an emergency ; and the 
 more depressed were those around her, the more cheer- 
 ful she became, accentuating her speech with trite 
 maxims and quotations from Scripture. 
 
 It was one day when Marianne felt particularly de- 
 spondent that Jerusha's prophecies came really true. 
 All the morning Marianne had complained of loneliness, 
 seemed possessed of forebodings, and longed for her 
 mother, and Jerusha had answered her with, " It's 
 always darkest before day" and ''Every cloud has a 
 silver lining," concluding with " Many are the afflic- 
 tions of the righteous, but the Lord will deliver him 
 out of them all." 
 
 " I'm afraid I'm not very righteous, then," said Mari- 
 anne, petulantly. 
 
FRIEND OR ENEMY 129 
 
 " Now, Mary Anne, don't you go speaking lightly of 
 Scripture," Jerusha chided her by saying. " I guess 
 we all fall short, if it comes to that. I ain't a saint, 
 but the Lord has delivered me from the hand of the 
 ungodly. This is a vale of tears, to be sure, but some- 
 times them very tears waters joy and gladness. I 
 rather guess your ma's more anxious to see you 'n you 
 are to see her." 
 
 *' If she were, she'd try and come home." 
 
 " Now, that's what I call right down undutiful," 
 returned Jerusha. '* You'll forget your fifth command- 
 ment next. There's your brother removed from the 
 device of the enemy, and your father freed from the 
 pit digged for him, and you're safe and sound. What's 
 the use of complaining ? Count your mercies, child ; 
 count 'em over." 
 
 Marianne leaned her head against the woman's 
 shoulder. " But I am homesick for mother." 
 
 " I guess you ain't the only one's been homesick in 
 her life," returned Jerusha, giving a vicious dig to the 
 pumpkin she was paring. " There's some that never 
 expects to git a sight of their home ag'in, and they 
 live and move and have their bein' just the same. 
 Your mother'll come when you ain't looking for her." 
 
 And sure enough, about dusk the very next evening, 
 who should appear but Mrs. Reyburn, laughing, cry- 
 ing, chattering half in French, half in English : 
 
I30 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 " Nomme de Grace ! but I am glad to embrace you 
 again, my daughter. Ciel ! but I have a mind not to 
 love you at all. Oui, ma chere, vous etes mechante 
 to steal away from your poor mother in such fash- 
 ion. Grand'mere, how she was mystified, and how 
 she was outraged that you did not confide in her! 
 As for me, I wept tears, such tears that my pillow 
 was damp from them. But they send love, all. And 
 Victor, he goes about as a sick owl. Royal we have 
 not seen at all. I know not where he is. We are 
 afraid he has been made responsible for your father's 
 escape. I am anxious, yet I make my first opportu- 
 nity to come over, and here I am." 
 
 '*Oh, mother, mother, but I am glad to see you," 
 Marianne murmured, patting her face. "And yes, I 
 forgot, you did not know; Royal is here." 
 
 " Mon Dieu ! " screamed Mrs. Reyburn, raising her 
 hands. " My son is here ? " 
 
 *'Yes." Marianne told her the story, concluding 
 with : " Mother dear, it is well you have come home, 
 for you see we need you, and besides, you are forget- 
 ting your English which you spoke so well." 
 
 ''Naughty child, I do not forget." 
 
 " But you are speaking French half the time, and 
 the other half it is with the accent of my grand- 
 mother." 
 
 Mrs. Reyburn laughed. "It is because I am ex- 
 
FRIEND OR ENEMY 131 
 
 cited. I will soon become accustomed to my English, 
 now I am at home." But the hands went up again. 
 " Tiens ! I have forgot. Our guest, where is she } " 
 
 '* She ? Who is she ? You mean, I think, the 
 wounded Jack Silverthorn." 
 
 *' No, no; I did not tell you in my joy to embrace 
 you again. It is the sister of your wounded prisoner, 
 your Silverthorn. She came with me. It was she 
 who procured the passes through the lines, that she 
 might come and see her brother." 
 
 " Kate, or Sue, is it .-* " 
 
 " The one called Kate. I left her with her brother, 
 whom we found on the porch outside, too late in the 
 evening for a man who has been ill, I thought. I 
 sent them inside, and there they must be now." 
 
 "Then I must go to her at once. I am very glad 
 to have dear Kate. Ah, but I am happy now, with 
 my mother and my good friend of whom I am so 
 fond. Dearest mother, if you but knew how mother- 
 sick I have been." 
 
 Her mother gathered her again in her arms, and 
 they stood in a silent embrace for a moment. Then 
 Marianne withdrew herself and said, " I must go and 
 give Kate a welcome, but I shall not stay long, for I 
 want to hear all you have to tell me." 
 
 She found Kate in animated conversation with 
 Jack. "Am I not an impertinent piece.''" Kate cried. 
 
132 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 " I invite myself here without so much as a * by your 
 leave.' But the message alarmed us so ! The Indian 
 brought it, you know, and we felt sure that Jack 
 must be much worse than he said ; but see him, as 
 lively as a cricket ! Sue at first insisted that she 
 would come, but she gave in when grandfather said 
 that she was halfway an American already, and we 
 might count upon never seeing her again if she once 
 escaped to this side. Behind his back she told me 
 that she thought after all that I might as well come 
 and learn her way of thinking, which speech, if 
 grandfather had heard, he would have scolded her 
 well for." 
 
 ''You would both have been w^elcome," Marianne 
 assured her, ''and now we have one of you here, we 
 will try to keep you till you do become Americanized. 
 Your brother does not need much nursing. His 
 sprained ankle seems now to be the worst of his 
 troubles, and it is but a question of time when that 
 will be well. Royal and Jerusha and Asa Peaslee 
 have been his nurses, so he has not lacked for atten- 
 tion, I can assure you." 
 
 " Royal ? " The color flamed up into Kate's cheeks, 
 and she stooped over to caress a purring cat which 
 had followed Marianne into the room. 
 
 "Yes, Royal. You didn't know he was here.-*" 
 
 " No, I hadn't heard," Kate returned, in a low voice. 
 
FRIEND OR ENEMY 133 
 
 " We had not seen him, but that was not strange, see- 
 ing that Jack was away from home ; and, besides, a 
 soldier's duties make him rather an uncertain visitor." 
 She was a Httle confused, but quickly regained her 
 composure, and then Marianne bore her off to her 
 own little room in a corner of the sloping roof, and 
 there they chattered as girls will, till Marianne, jump- 
 ing up, declared that she was neglecting her duties, 
 and would Kate come with her to the kitchen. 
 
 A big cheerful room it was, with white-washed 
 walls, great open fireplace, and well-scrubbed floor. 
 Mrs. Reyburn was already bustling about, exclaiming 
 at this and that thing, and excusing all deficiences 
 upon the ground of her absence. " Not that you and 
 Jerusha have not done famously," she said to Mari- 
 anne, "but I see many things to be made ready for 
 winter. My faith ! but I am glad to be at home again, 
 with my husband safe and both my children beside 
 me." 
 
 " And other people's children as well," put in Kate. 
 ''You are very good to take us in, but I really see 
 no reason why we should remain long to burden 
 your hospitality, for Jack is comparatively well now, 
 though the hypocrite pretends he is not." She looked 
 up lovingly at her brother, who had followed the girls 
 into the kitchen, using a crutch to assist him. 
 
 " Comparatively well," he repeated. '' If you had 
 
134 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 been knocked over by a bullet, and sent rolling down 
 a cliff, banging your head and arms and legs against 
 every tree in your way, I don't believe you'd call 
 yourself comparatively well for a year." 
 
 *' A year ! Am I given to suppose that you mean 
 to stay here a year ? " Kate asked. 
 
 " I'll stay .here as long as they'll keep me," re- 
 turned Jack, with a laugh. "There's no use in going 
 home when I can't fight; besides, I am told our 
 troops are half starved and half clothed. Do you 
 imagine I could think of going with that ragout 
 of Mrs. Reyburn's in my nostrils ? " 
 
 They all laughed, and Marianne declared that since 
 it was all a matter of loaves and fishes, and though 
 the Bible said, that if our enemy hungered, we should 
 feed him, yet she thought that Master Silverthorn 
 might have found a better excuse for staying. 
 Whereupon Jack told her that he had excuse enough, 
 which he had more than once sought to reveal to 
 her, but that she would not hear it. Marianne tossed 
 her head impatiently at this and announced that it 
 was her intention to go immediately to the dairy, and 
 would Kate go with her. As for Jack, he would 
 best remain where he was and tell her mother his 
 fibs ; perhaps she could be made to believe them, but 
 as for Marianne herself, she knew better. 
 
CHAPTER IX 
 
 A Little Fim 
 
 THE year 1812 was closing with but small en- 
 couragement to the land forces of the Ameri- 
 cans. General Van Rensselaer having resigned, his 
 command was turned over to the bombastic Smyth, 
 who was a veritable windbag. His high-sounding 
 proclamations, however, had some effect, for they 
 brought volunteers flocking to the front. But these 
 found their leader a man of words and not of deeds, 
 for, after twice bringing them to the very brink of 
 an invasion into Canada, he recalled them, and 
 thereby brought down such jeers and threats upon 
 his devoted head that he at last retired to his home 
 in Virginia. 
 
 Mr. Reyburn, like most of his comrades, chafed and 
 fumed under all these disappointments. Since his 
 return he had been raised to the rank of captain, and 
 was now more away from home than ever. He and 
 his son never met, for Royal made a point of getting 
 out of the way when he saw his father coming. The 
 young man felt somewhat embarrassed at the position 
 
 135 
 
136 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 he was in as paroled prisoner in his father's house, 
 and he also felt somewhat aggrieved that his father 
 had not acknowledged his efforts in saving him from 
 a savage enemy. On the other hand, Captain Rey- 
 burn saw that Royal made a point of keeping out 
 of his way, and he made no advances. 
 
 "They are both entirely too proud," said Marianne 
 to her mother. " I think Royal might give in, 
 because he is the younger, and he knows father 
 appreciates what he did for him ; because I told 
 Royal what father said." 
 
 " It will all come right in time," her mother told 
 her, ''in the meantime let us be thankful that we 
 have them both so near. Your father complains at 
 the inaction, but I am thankful enough that it is so 
 quiet. Here comes the dear man now. Let us wel- 
 come him with cheerful faces." 
 
 " Such management ! " said Captain Reyburn, throw- 
 ing off his cap, and sitting down before the fire. 
 "As if it were not enough to have incompetent 
 leaders, but some idiot must circulate the report 
 among the militia, that if they cross into Canada 
 for military purposes, they become liable for five 
 years' service, becoming regulars in so doing. Such 
 talk ! yet there is nothing but desertion and rioting 
 to be heard of. The only fighting the men seem 
 to be able to do is that among themselves, and their 
 
A LITTLE FUN 137 
 
 leaders are not any better. By George ! I wish I 
 were back in Kentucky ; there they are putting out 
 real stuff, true soldiers with WilUam Henry Harrison 
 at their head. I wish I were with them. Ordered 
 into winter quarters, when our force, if it had any 
 grit to back it, could knock out the British over 
 on the other side in no time ! They don't begin to 
 have the number of troops we have. Imagine ! 
 brought to the very brink of an invasion, and then 
 ordered back, the regulars to winter quarters and 
 the volunteers to their homes ! " 
 
 Marianne brought her two hands smartly together. 
 '' Oh, then you are at home for good! How glad I am ! 
 We knew that the expedition was given up, but we 
 heard there had been some fighting, and we were afraid 
 that there was more to come." 
 
 *' I wish to Heaven there were more to expect. Yes, 
 I am at home for a time. It's a pretty poor outlook 
 for our success, as things are now." 
 
 " We've given 'em some good licks on the sea," said 
 Asa Peaslee, who had come in and was Hstening to Cap- 
 tain Reyburn's report. " I've half a mind to jine the 
 marines myself. I ain't much of a climber, an' I dunno 
 's I wouldn't tumble kerflunk on deck, if I was to try 
 to shinny up them ropes, but I like to be on the win- 
 nin' side ; and, seein' as there ain't much glory to be 
 had soldierin' around these parts, I dunno's I won't 
 
138 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 light out and go where it's more excitin'. You're goin* 
 to be at home now, cap'n, and my days of usefulness 
 so far's helpin' you out is concerned, is most over." 
 
 " I thought you meant to fight only in self-defence, 
 Asa," put in Marianne. 
 
 ** That's what I said ; but I guess it'll be self-defence 
 if I git a sight of the enemy's weapons," he replied 
 dryly. "S'long as they ain't no Injun fightin', I kin 
 stand it, but I would like to save my scalp, seein' as 
 I've kep' a-holt of it all these years. Injuns ain't 
 sea-farin' folks, and when a fellow hears of victories 
 like the Coiistitiition over the Career, and the Wasp 
 takin' the Frolic, seems as if he'd Hke to be there. I 
 guess I'll be hitchin' along in a day or two, and see 
 what gol-durned foolishness I'll be gittin' into next. 
 I don't seem to be able to keep from meddUn' some- 
 wheres. Used to be always pokin' my fingers into 
 the pies and cakes when I was a youngster, and gittin' 
 licked for it, so I guess it's inborn original sin's the mat- 
 ter with me now that makes me just ache to be gittin' 
 into trouble." 
 
 True to his word, he started away one morning soon 
 after, saying, at parting: "You ain't rid of me for good, 
 I guess. If I don't git blowed up, or scalped, or 
 hacked to pieces, like as not I'll be coming this way 
 ag'in, when there's anything goin' on. I'm the curios- 
 est fellow you ever did see; must be pokin' my nose 
 
A LITTLE FUN 139 
 
 into other folk's consarns, and never can mind my own 
 business." 
 
 Marianne watched him depart, having first loaded 
 him down with provisions. " I Hke the old fellow," 
 she told Kate. '' I suppose he may be shrewd in 
 driving a bargain, and doesn't always tell the exact 
 truth about his wares, but he is so good-hearted and 
 brave, though he pretends he is neither." 
 
 "He poses for an innocent," said Kate, "but he 
 is really pretty smart, and knows a heap more than he 
 tells. Here come our brothers. Shall we go and meet 
 them } " 
 
 "You may, if you choose," replied Marianne, "but 
 I've something better to do." 
 
 Kate caught her around the waist, and laughing said : 
 " You don't escape this time. You always make that 
 excuse. Do you really dislike poor Jack so much .? " 
 
 " You know I do," replied Marianne, struggling to 
 get away. 
 
 " Just because he fought on the other side .'' " 
 
 " No, not that altogether, but you know he was very 
 rude to me when he first saw me, that time in the 
 woods." 
 
 " When he pulled you out of the bog ? Did you 
 want to stay there ? " 
 
 " Stop teasing, Kate. You know it wasn't that, but 
 he made fun of me." 
 
140 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 " He thought you a small child. He doesn't make 
 fun of you now. I am sure he is as polite as possible." 
 
 " Yes, but — it is really because he is on the enemy's 
 side." 
 
 " So is your brother, but you don't dishke him." 
 
 " That is a very different thing. One ought not to 
 hate her own brother ; and besides, Royal is fond of me." 
 
 '* Then if Jack were fond of you, you'd be fond of 
 him." 
 
 " How you do make one choose words. Let me go, 
 Kate. I don't hke him, so there ; I am sorry he is 
 your brother, for you I love." She suddenly broke 
 away, then returned to throw her arms around Kate, 
 and kiss her over and over again, after which she ran 
 into the house, without so much as a look at the two 
 coming up the walk. 
 
 Jack still limped a little, but he leaned on Royal's 
 arm, and the two were talking animatedly. " Where 
 has Marianne run to .? " Royal asked. '' We wanted to 
 tell her the latest news." 
 
 " And what is that ? " Kate asked. " Am I not to 
 hear it .? " 
 
 " It is reported that there is going to be trouble with 
 the Indians on the western frontier." 
 
 " O dear ! " Kate looked distressed. ** That is the 
 worst thing to dread. I wish I could see the right of 
 this war, anyhow." 
 
A LITTLE FUN 141 
 
 Jack shook his head. " You'd better not let Captain 
 Reyburn or Marianne hear you say that. They think 
 there is righteous cause enough." 
 
 " Do you ? " Kate asked quickly. 
 
 ** Looking at it from their side, I think they have, 
 maybe, though I wouldn't confess it to any one else. 
 I don't wonder that they got mad at the impressment 
 of their seamen ; still, I've no doubt England would 
 have made that all right, and I think the States were 
 too hasty in the matter." 
 
 *' Since I have been here," Kate returned, " I can 
 see how they love liberty beyond anything else, and 
 that they believe the mother country considers the 
 United States only as a naughty child who has been 
 too impertinent, and that she wants them still to feel 
 her power. I don't much wonder that they resent 
 that, and that they want to show her that they can 
 stand alone after their splendid fight for freedom in 
 the Revolution." 
 
 Jack laughed. " What would grandfather say to 
 such a speech ? " 
 
 *' He would rage and rant, and call upon King George 
 to witness that he had always been loyal, no matter 
 what views his descendants might hold. Poor grand- 
 father, I'm afraid he'll think we are entire renegades 
 when we go back." 
 
 '* And when will that be .? " 
 
142 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 "As soon as we can." 
 
 "That's a very indefinite time. What's the use of 
 going at all, when I've given my word not to fight for 
 so many months.? Here's Royal, declaring that he 
 isn't going to stay at home because his father is back 
 again. I might get into just such a state of mind 
 concerning grandfather if I went back; and if one 
 cannot be at home, he might as well be in one place 
 as another. I propose to stay." 
 
 "Why don't you say something. Royal.?" Kate 
 asked. " Shall we go or stay .? " 
 
 " Stay," Royal answered. " The war can't last very 
 long at this rate. You see how utterly the States have 
 failed in carrying the war into Canada, and it will not 
 be long before there will be peace." 
 
 " And are you really not going to live at home while 
 your father is here .? " 
 
 " I am not. I am going to stay at Will Fenton's." 
 
 Kate looked at him wistfully. She wanted to tell 
 him that she did not think he was doing the best thing, 
 but she hesitated. "You don't have to meet your 
 father, even if you stay at home," she said at last, 
 " and it would please your mother to have you stay." 
 
 Royal began to make fantastic figures in *the path 
 with the stick he carried. " It's awkward enough as 
 it is," he replied. " It has come to such a pass now 
 that my father just nods to me when we meet, and 
 
A LITTLE FUN 143 
 
 never has a word to say if I am by. I don't want to 
 spoil it for the rest, and I think I'd better keep away 
 and only come home when he is not here." 
 
 Kate looked thoughtfully out into the winter sunlight, 
 but made no comment. "To return to the subject of 
 our staying," she said, after a pause. " I think I ought 
 to go back, even if Jack is determined to stay. I ought 
 not to desert Sue any longer." 
 
 But when Marianne was told this, she declared 
 against it. " Just as winter is coming on, and there 
 will be sleigh-rides and skating, and all sorts of frolics, 
 it would be too bad to leave and go over to that stupid 
 place where you will not have half the fun you would 
 here. You mustn't think of it." And forthwith she 
 began to contrive a series of amusement to keep her 
 friend. She consulted Royal on the subject, and found 
 him quite ready to further her schemes. "We will 
 show them, Royal," she said, with a toss of her head, 
 "we will show them that, backwoodsmen though our 
 father and grandfather were, we know how to dance 
 and entertain. The elegance of Monsieur Silverthorn, 
 vieux, the fine manners he pretends to have bequeathed 
 to his grandson, I don't find them after being with you 
 and Victor, who can bow and dance with the grace of 
 a marquis. Bah ! do you suppose that old withered 
 Tory over there can hold a candle to our grandfather 
 Desvouges, of whom grand'm^re tells us ? Such a gal- 
 
144 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 lant, he ; so beautiful to behold in his satins and velvets ! 
 Ah me ! I wish we had satins and velvets to wear. In 
 homespun we will attire ourselves ; yet we will not 
 forget the graces of our ancestors, even if some of our 
 guests do despise us." 
 
 '' All this, I suppose, is a tirade against Jack Silver- 
 thorn," said Royal, coolly. "Why do you think he 
 despises you ? I am sure he has never given you 
 reason to think so, and it was but yesterday that Kate 
 said she had never seen a girl more graceful than you." 
 
 '* Ah, Kate ! yes, of course she would say that. She 
 always is sweet and lovely. I was not thinking of her. 
 I wish to show Mr. Silverthorn that I do not lack for 
 partners in a dance, and do not have to go seeking 
 them among refugee Tories." 
 
 " Chut ! Chut ! Marianne, your tongue runs away 
 with you at times. Yet I should like the dance well 
 enough. I suppose Kate and Jack would like it, too, 
 though perhaps we had better ask them." 
 
 " Nonsense, of course they will like it, and I do not 
 want them to know till it is all arranged. We will 
 have it in the barn. A big, big place, we want. It 
 shall be a real frolic. We will have ijo lack of guests, 
 I assure you, for there are the military to draw upon. 
 We will say it is in Kate's honor, and we will have 
 Long Joe to play for us, if we can get him. I wish 
 Victor were here, he dances so well; it is the one 
 
A LITTLE FUN 145 
 
 thing that he does better than any one I know. Good 
 old Victor, he never lets me lack for a partner." 
 
 When all the arrangements were made for the dance, 
 Kate and Jack were told, and cheerfully accepted the 
 arrangement; though Jack may have had a passing 
 thought that some othei; form of entertainment would 
 be better suited to a man with a weak ankle. Yet he 
 offered his help with a good grace. 
 
 At the suggestion of Captain Reyburn the affair 
 resolved itself into a husking-bee, followed by a dance. 
 ''In that way," said he, "I'll get my work done, and 
 you'll have your fun. Half the boys around are ready 
 for an invitation, and I think you'll have some difficulty 
 in providing partners for them all." 
 
 " I know a way out of that difficulty," said Marianne, 
 patriotically. " We will not invite any one of the men 
 who have not been or who are not in our army." 
 
 ** Ho ! Ho ! " laughed her father. '' That is a good 
 way out of it. I've no doubt we shall find the soldier 
 lads eager enough for sport of that kind." 
 
 " I'll leave you to choose which ones ought to be 
 invited," said Marianne, ''and I think we can find girls 
 enough, if we depend upon Black Rock as well as 
 Lewiston. My only anxiety is whether we can supply 
 sufficient refreshments." 
 
 "Trust your mother for that," replied her father. 
 " Between my wife and Jerusha, I reckon no one will 
 
146 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 go away hungry." And, indeed, for days Mrs. Rey- 
 burn was in her element. She Uked nothing better 
 than to provide a feast, and to show her skill in using 
 her mother's famous recipes. So there were great 
 pasties of game, huge roasts of venison, doughnuts 
 rolled in maple sugar, pumpkin cake, and pies of many 
 kinds in turnover shape. 
 
 " My ! " exclaimed Kate, when the last pie came from 
 the oven. " I never saw such a pile of goodies. That 
 doesn't look much like war time, does it ? " 
 
 "They will eat it all," Mrs. Reyburn told her. 
 " Every time my husband comes in he tells me of some 
 new guest he has invited, and we shall soon have 
 room for not another one." 
 
 Truly it was a goodly company which assembled 
 on the evening selected. The boys from the regiments 
 now in winter quarters, Virginians, Marylanders, Ken- 
 tuckians, and New Yorkers, in motley uniforms ; the 
 girls frbm the villages and the surrounding country, 
 in homespun, deerskin, or calico ; a few Canadians, 
 who had taken refuge on the American side of the 
 river, and all eager for a frolic. 
 
 The huge piles of Indian corn lay ready for the 
 buskers ; the table groaned with its load of pasties, 
 cakes, and pies ; torches and pine-knot fires were 
 ready to be lighted ; and Marianne viewed it all with 
 a pleased eye. " It will do," she said to Kate, " but 
 
A LITTLE FUN 147 
 
 it is neither the husking nor the supper that I am 
 looking forward to ; it is the dance. I long for the 
 dance. Don't you, Kate ? " 
 
 Kate hesitated, blushed, looked down. She could 
 not bear to dampen Marianne's ardor, and all this 
 time she had failed to tell her. "I — you see, I don't 
 know much about it. Grandfather is such an old 
 Puritan — and — he never Hked to have us — and so 
 we — that is — I have never learned." She looked 
 helplessly at Marianne when she had stammered out 
 this piece of information. 
 
 Marianne stared at her in surprise, then she laughed 
 merrily, but in some embarrassment. "And I have 
 given this frolic for you, and took it for granted that 
 you danced. What a stupid I am ! Why didn't you 
 tell me.?" 
 
 " Because I didn't want to spoil your fun. I saw 
 that the dance was what you liked the best. I can 
 husk corn, you know, and I shall love to watch the 
 dancers." 
 
 " You shall do more. Where is Royal .? Where 
 is your brother.? Ah, that Victor were here to play 
 the violin for us ! He plays with much feeling, that 
 Victor." She darted out of the log building and came 
 back with her brother and Jack. " I am the most 
 stupid ! " she exclaimed. " I am a selfish one, to be sure. 
 I prepare an entertainment for my friends, and behold. 
 
148 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 one does not dance, and the other cannot because of 
 his sprained ankle. Did you ever know such a stupid, 
 RoyaL-* But come, in the little time that is before us 
 we must teach Kate the figures. Come, Mr. Jack, you 
 must hobble through it somehow." 
 
 She extended her hand, and Jack led her out upon 
 the rough floor. '' We'll have no music," he said. 
 
 Marianne gave him a little side glance, and drew 
 from her pocket a queer Httle instrument, upon which 
 she began to play a quaint tune, piping out the few 
 notes with a sweet shrillness while she kept time with 
 her foot. Jack looked at her in wonder. " How unlike 
 any other girl you are," he said; "you are full of sur- 
 prises. Where did you get that curious little pipe .'' " 
 
 " Victor made it for me," Marianne told him, exhibit- 
 ing the little pipe with some pride. 
 
 '* Has it a name ? I never saw one like it before." 
 
 " No, it has no special name. You see it is neither 
 a fife nor a horn nor a whistle, though Victor and I 
 usually call it the little horn. I think he was very 
 clever to make it. He taught me to play upon it 
 while he played his violin. Come now ; one, two, three. 
 Advance, Royal." 
 
 Royal led Kate toward her, they swung corners, 
 balanced, bowed to imaginary couples, represented by 
 stalks of corn, and finally the dance stopped. Mari- 
 anne gave a nod to Kate, saying: "You will do. 
 
A LITTLE FUN 149 
 
 Royal will see that you do not lack for partners who 
 can guide you properly. As for you, Mr. Jack, I am 
 afraid you have already been kept too long on your 
 lame ankle." 
 
 *' I suppose that this must be my last dance," said 
 Jack, dejectedly. "One does not feel very graceful, 
 I imagine, dancing with a lame man." 
 
 Marianne gave a little shrug of her shoulders and 
 walked away, saying : " There are those who could 
 make a more courteous speech, Mr. Jack, and who 
 would say I am not ungraceful at any time ; but, of 
 course, an awkward httle girl, as I am in your eyes, 
 cannot be expected to show grace, except under very 
 fortunate circumstances." 
 
 "What a dolt I am ! " Jack hastened to explain. " I 
 didn't mean that; you know I didn't. Why do you 
 always try to twist my words into a wrong meaning ? 
 Are you never going to forgive me for that unlucky 
 first meeting ? " 
 
 " Oh, unlucky, of course, since otherwise I should, 
 perhaps, never have met you at all." 
 
 Jack hobbled up to her and looked down into the 
 blue eyes, which met his stonily. " I wish I knew 
 whether you really hate me or whether you merely 
 try to tease me when you say such things." 
 
 "You cannot think I would take the trouble to 
 tease you," Marianne answered, moving away. "You 
 
150 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 know full well how I feel toward my country's 
 enemies." Whereupon Jack heaved a sigh and looked 
 so disconsolate that Kate fancied he was suffering, 
 and solicitously came over to him, begging him to find 
 a place where he could be seated comfortably. 
 
 "You shouldn't have tried the dance, Jack," she 
 said. 
 
 " But I enjoyed it." His eyes were following Mari- 
 anne, who was lighting up the torches, which flared 
 out from the dingy walls of the log building. 
 
 *'You look as if you were enjoying yourself now," 
 Kate laughed. " I see, Jack, that little tease has been 
 saying something sharp. Don't mind her ; she doesn't 
 mean half she says." And then the guests came 
 trooping in, glad to get under cover from the cold. 
 
CHAPTER X 
 
 The Httskmg and What Followed 
 
 FOR a couple of hours the fun over the husking 
 was fast and furious ; and by ten o'clock three 
 rousing cheers gave evidence that the task was com- 
 pleted, though to her discomfiture, Marianne's was 
 not the winning side. 
 
 A big, burly Frenchman was hoisted upon a 
 clumsy platform, and soon his fiddle sung out a 
 merry tune ; then amid much laughter the dancing 
 began. A fantastic picture the scene made, only 
 possible on the frontier. Erect young soldiers, 
 decked out in the best uniforms at their command, 
 stepped through the figures with dignified carriage ; 
 gay young Frenchmen, some clad in the silks and 
 satins brought over by their forefathers a century 
 before ; others, in the deerskin garments of the habi- 
 tant, bowed and pirouetted with an elegance handed 
 down from some courtly sire ; rough militiamen, 
 farmer boys in homespun or buckskin, galloped about 
 awkwardly, making the floor resound with the energy 
 of their steps. The smoky flare of the torches 
 
 151 
 
152 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 lighted up the fair faces of the girls, most of them 
 in gay calicoes, though some wore the silken gowns 
 hoarded by their mothers. Few wore other shoes 
 than moccasins, though here and there a pair of satin- 
 clad feet would twinkle from under the brocaded 
 petticoats. The big room was dingy with smoke, 
 illy lighted, and none too warm. Against its rough 
 walls the entertainers had fastened long stalks of 
 corn, whose dry blades rustled as the dancers swept 
 by. Clumsy benches were ranged along the sides, 
 and mixed with the odor of the burning pine-knots 
 was the scent of the corn and the leathery odor of 
 the deerskin garments. 
 
 Marianne and Kate wore cotton prints, and, in 
 imitation of a fashion then in vogue, they had each 
 contrived from some '' book-muslin " curtains which 
 had been lying away, a scarf, trimmed around the 
 hem with a frill of lace lent by Mrs. Reyburn for 
 the occasion. They were a little conscious of the 
 responsibility their vanity brought them, for Mrs. 
 Reyburn had given them many charges to be care- 
 ful of the lace which her mother's mother had brought 
 from France, and which could never be replaced if 
 anything were to happen to it. Rather incongruous 
 it was, to be sure, worn with the gay calico gowns, 
 but the girls were vastly pleased with this addition 
 of elegance to their costum&s. 
 
THE HUSKING 153 
 
 " I am sure we will look as fine as any one," 
 Marianne had declared as she stood on tip-toe to 
 peep into the small mirror over her bureau. " I am 
 so pleased that we found this book-muslin. It is a 
 little stiff, but it will become more flowing the longer 
 we wear it. Mother has lent me her brooch. I 
 should like to have my curious bracelet, but it does 
 not spoil my pleasure to be deprived of it." 
 
 Nothing did spoil her pleasure, although she felt a 
 small pang of envy to see that Minerva Ashman, the 
 prettiest girl in the room, was one of the few who 
 wore a silk gown. And although she could not bear 
 Jack Silverthorn, Marianne told herself that he needn't 
 have singled out the belle of the evening for his 
 special attentions. He might have been more polite 
 to her, if only for appearance' sake ; but she remem- 
 bered that he had begun their acquaintance by being 
 rude, and she didn't care, she had plenty of part- 
 ners, — which in truth she had, and so did Kate, who 
 acquitted herself nobly in the matter of dancing, in 
 spite of her declaring that she had no knowledge of 
 the figures. 
 
 Marianne's most devoted admirer was a young Ken- 
 tuckian, who claimed distant cousinship. Mr. Reyburn 
 had brought him up to present to his daughter, and 
 beamed with pleasure as he told her he had discovered 
 a kinsman from his native State. '' This is Sergeant 
 
154 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 Frederic Lyle," he told her. '* Come to find out, he is a 
 cousin upon my mother's side ; your grandmother was a 
 Lyle, you know, and you must make your cousin Fred 
 feel at home." 
 
 '* A cousin .'' How nice ! " Marianne exclaimed. ** I 
 have not many cousins. Am I to say Cousin Fred or 
 Mr. Lyle ? " 
 
 " Cousin Fred, please," said the young man, eagerly. 
 " It will make it seem so much more like home ; and I 
 hope I may say Cousin Marianne." 
 
 " Why, yes, I have no objection ; and it is a poor rule 
 that will not work both ways. Do you dance ? Shall I 
 find you a partner ? Minerva Ashman is the belle of 
 the evening, you see, and if you have not been pre- 
 sented — " 
 
 " I need not be. She seems to be quite well attended. 
 The young gentlemen hover around her like moths 
 around a candle. I must confess such briUiant beauty 
 does not attract me. I can find greater charms closer 
 at hand." He bowed gallantly. "If you have not 
 promised the next dance, may I hope that you will 
 honor me ? " 
 
 " I am afraid the next is promised, but — " 
 
 "The next, then?" 
 
 "Yes, I can give you that." And her father nodded 
 approvingly as she swept by with this new cousin. 
 
 " They make a pretty good-looking couple," he said 
 
THE HUSKING 155 
 
 with satisfaction to his wife. But Mrs. Reyburn did 
 not reply. There was Victor, absent and out of mind. 
 She agreed with her mother that no better match for 
 Marianne could be found than Victor, and in time it 
 might be brought about. Yet she did not forget that 
 her husband, with American notions, would hardly sec- 
 ond her in arranging a marriage French fashion, and in 
 thinking of this she sighed. 
 
 " Why that sigh, my wife ? " Mr. Reyburn asked. 
 "Are you tired, or does the supper not satisfy your 
 housewifely desires ? " 
 
 " It is the war of which I think," she made reply. 
 ** At all festivities we have had my family present, and 
 now they cannot get to us nor we to them." 
 
 ** To be sure ; that is too bad. Well, the war will not 
 last long, and it has brought us an increase of guests in 
 all these soldier lads. The girls do not lack for beaux 
 to-night." 
 
 "Ours never did," returned Mrs. Reyburn. Her 
 eyes followed Marianne, who was smiHng up into the 
 face of the tall Kentuckian. And then her gaze wan- 
 dered to where Royal sat toying with the end of Kate's 
 scarf. " He will ruin the lace with his clumsy fingers," 
 Mrs. Reyburn murmured. And with this thought came 
 another of Victorine, patient and loving ; of Victor, faith- 
 ful and devoted, on the other side of the river. 
 
 It was nearly morning when the dance broke up. 
 
156 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 " It was a great success," declared Kate, when the two 
 girls had sought their chilly little room. *' 1 never had 
 such a good time, — no, never. I wish Sue could have 
 been here, and then my happiness would have been 
 complete." 
 
 Marianne was dreamily smoothing out her scarf, and 
 did not answer. ''What makes you so quiet.?" Kate 
 asked. " Are you disappointed ? " 
 
 Marianne roused herself with a start. '* No, no, I am 
 not. Yes, I wish Sue could have been here ; and I am 
 glad you had a good time, Kate." She paused for a 
 moment and then asked, " Do you think Minerva Ash- 
 man very beautiful .'' " 
 
 ** Not beautiful, but quite handsome. She is dark and 
 brilliant and showy, and in that dress looked very well." 
 
 "Yes, the dress was handsome. Oh, Kate, is not my 
 new cousin a fine lad } He will be here very often, for 
 he is homesick, poor fellow, and my father wishes him 
 to feel that he can come here at will." 
 
 " And that will please you ? " 
 
 " Certainly ; a cousin, yet not too nearly related, and 
 one who is almost a stranger ; the situation is full of 
 promise. He is a devoted patriot, and on that question 
 we can strike hands. You can see how my father ap- 
 proves of him, and his manners are certainly those of a 
 gentleman. He is not hke some persons, who forget to 
 be polite." 
 
THE HUSKING 157 
 
 " Do you chance to mean any one in particular ? " 
 Kate asked. 
 
 " Oh, no," returned Marianne, indifferently. *' I was 
 speaking in a general way. But mercy ! it is not far 
 from morning, and we shall lose every bit of our beauty 
 sleep." At which terrible suggestion Kate hurried off 
 her clothes, and they climbed shivering into bed, to sink 
 down comfortably into the feathers which billowed up 
 warmly around them. 
 
 The winter promised to pass pleasantly enough. 
 There were no specially aggressive movements upon the 
 Niagara frontier, with the exception of a few skirmishes ; 
 the volunteers had gone to their homes, and only the 
 regulars were in their winter camp. It was Virginia and 
 Maryland that at this time were suffering from the dep- 
 redations of the enemy, for Cockburn and his men were 
 not idle there. On the ocean, too, battles were frequent, 
 and from time to time came the news of more than one 
 naval victory. 
 
 At the Reyburn farmstead there was no lack of jol- 
 lity. Given an encampment of soldiers near the home 
 of two lively girls, and it could not be expected but that 
 good times would follow. Among the most frequent 
 visitors was Fred Lyle, who proved himself to be a good 
 comrade for riding, skating, or in fact for any indoor or 
 outdoor sport. He and Marianne were on the best of 
 terms, and if any kind of frolic were proposed, he was 
 
158 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 the first to offer his escort. Well bundled up in furs, the 
 merry sleigh-riders would enjoy a dash over the hard 
 snow and appear at the house of some neighbor, who 
 always kept on hand a supply of provisions for the 
 comfort of just such visitors ; then after the hot supper 
 was eaten, off again they would dash. Or it might be 
 an afternoon on the ice, cutting fantastic figures ; or on 
 mild days a horseback ride would be taken along 
 the side of the great gorge to the wonderful falls 
 above. 
 
 Between Marianne and Jack there had not arisen 
 a better appearance of friendhness. They were con- 
 stantly differing. " It seems to me that Marianne goes 
 out of her way to say sharp things," Jack complained 
 to his sister, " and she is hand in glove with that long- 
 legged Kentucky chap, who knows entirely too well 
 how to presume upon his distant relationship." 
 
 " That's not for you to complain of," Kate told him. 
 " If her parents and her brother are satisfied with his 
 way of acting, it is none of our business. He is a 
 good fellow. Jack, and you know it. Besides, you 
 might expect that he would receive more consideration, 
 being an American soldier." 
 
 "But I am not in arms," grumbled Jack. . 
 
 *' No ; but you have been." 
 
 "I just wish I had him on the other side of the 
 river," said Jack, with decision. 
 
THE HUSKING 159 
 
 "What would you do with him?" asked Kate, her 
 dimples showing. 
 
 '* Vd keep him there." 
 
 " And stay there yourself to watch him. I don't 
 see that you'd be any better off than you are now. 
 You might have gone home long ago, but you stayed 
 here from preference; so you have no one to blame 
 but yourself, if you don't like it. What's the use of 
 fussing, Jack, just because a girl flouts you, — and a 
 girl that you don't specially care for, too. It's just 
 because you want to play first fiddle ; and that's all 
 there is to it." 
 
 "That's all you know about it," returned Jack. "I 
 think my own sister might side with me, but you 
 always stand up for Marianne every time." 
 
 " Of course I do, because she's a girl, and I'm a 
 girl." 
 
 " Oh, and not because she's Roy's sister." 
 
 Kate drew herself up with dignity. "Jack, if you 
 ever say such a thing again, I'll — I'll not speak to 
 you. Don't you know that it is arranged that Royal 
 is to marry Victorine La Rue ? " 
 
 Jack stared. "Who told you such a thing.?" he 
 asked. 
 
 "Mrs. Reyburn." 
 
 " Well, I vow ! Why, Kit, she's almost a hunch- 
 back." 
 
i6o A LOYAL LASS 
 
 " But she is beautiful." 
 
 " Who says so ? " 
 
 "Marianne." 
 
 " Who else ? " 
 
 "Her mother — and Royal." 
 
 " Well, I vow ! " repeated Jack. Then after a pause, 
 "Well, all is, I think Royal is treating you pretty 
 shabbily." 
 
 " Jack, don't you dare to say such a thing ! " cried 
 Kate, bursting into tears. " It isn't true. We are 
 only good friends, and I don't want him to be any- 
 thing more. Any one can see that. Every one can, 
 can't they. Jack ? " 
 
 "I can't see it, then. Look here, Kate," — Jack put 
 his arm around his sister, — "I wouldn't for the world 
 make you cry. By George ! I wish we'd gone home 
 long ago. We're both pretty well knocked out by 
 the pair of them." 
 
 Kate wiped her eyes, and rested her head on Jack's 
 shoulder. "You mean — Marianne and Royal.-*" 
 
 Jack nodded. 
 
 " You are knocked out. Jack ? Are you really .'' Do 
 you actually care how Marianne treats you ? I thought 
 it was just your vanity that was touched. I didn't 
 know it was your heart. Poor old Jack ! " 
 
 " Don't ' poor old ' me ! I can stand it, I suppose ; 
 but I wish I had never seen the saucy little witch. 
 
THE HUSKING i6i 
 
 Let's drop it, Kate. I'm not going to give up, though. 
 I have that much of the British bulldog about me that 
 I know how to hold on. Yet what you tell me about 
 Roy confounds me. I should think if there were any- 
 thing of that kind settled upon, that he would have 
 told me." 
 
 "Let's drop that, too," said Kate. "We'll try to 
 stand it as best we can. They are all awfully good 
 to us. Jack ; and we've no claim on them. They never 
 make us feel that we are aliens and here under protest ; 
 but oh ! I want to see Sue and father." 
 
 " And I am the one who has been keeping you here 
 all this time. It is all my fault. I ought to have 
 thought of some one else besides myself." Jack patted 
 the curly head resting against his shoulder. "Well, 
 cheer up, old girl; we'll try to get back. I guess 
 it's what is best for us both." 
 
 This conversation occurred the day upon which a 
 little party started out for an afternoon ride. It was 
 a mild day for the season, but the air was crisp and 
 exhilarating. Marianne rode ahead with her two 
 attendant knights. Jack and Fred; Kate followed 
 with Royal. In spite of the fact that she directed 
 most of her conversation to Fred, Jack stuck close by 
 Marianne's side. As for Kate, she had no reason to 
 complain of the lack of attention from her cavalier; 
 if there was any fault to find, it was because of his 
 
i62 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 too devoted air. It hurt Kate. Why could he not 
 joke and laugh and tease as Fred was doing.? It half 
 annoyed her that there should be long lapses of silence 
 in which Royal would give her such glances as should 
 be given only to the woman he loved. She tried to 
 keep before her the face of Victorine La Rue as 
 Marianne had described it : the face of a saint with 
 glorious eyes, a perfect mouth, and that marvellous 
 cloud of hair falling over her shoulders. She spoke 
 out her thought : '' It must be very hard for you to 
 be deprived of going to your grandmother's." 
 
 " It would be under some circumstances," returned 
 Royal. " I never thought I could be so content at 
 home. I have always chafed under my father's rule, 
 but now nothing seems to make much difference." 
 He looked at Kate with a tender smile. 
 
 She lowered her lids and did not look at him as 
 she said : " It is unfortunate that you and your father 
 cannot come to a good understanding. If anything 
 should happen to either of you, it would be a great 
 sorrow to remember that you were estranged." 
 
 "Yes, I think so now. I felt that when I saw him 
 wounded and in the hands of those savages." 
 
 " How glad you must have been to be able to 
 rescue him, and to take him to your grandmother's. 
 They must miss you there, when you have always 
 spent so much of your time with them." 
 
THE HUSKING 163 
 
 " No doubt they do miss me, but Victor is very 
 capable, and he looks after everything as a son of the 
 house would ; in fact he is a son, though an adopted one." 
 
 ** Victorine, his sister; I think you have told me that 
 she is very beautiful." 
 
 *' Of face, yes, poor girl." 
 
 "And of character." 
 
 ** She is an angel of goodness." 
 
 "Then, in spite of her deformity, she is very lov- 
 able." 
 
 " No one could help loving her. You would if 
 you knew her, as I hope you will some day." 
 
 Kate gave a little quick sigh. But just at that 
 moment there was a sudden stifled scream from 
 Marianne, and Kate drew rein. Then from the side 
 of the road sprang out a figure which caught her 
 bridle, and on the other side a hand was laid on 
 Royal. Sudden shots rung out upon the air, then a 
 horse went riderless along the road ahead. Jack was 
 down on the ground, and Fred Lyle was strugghng 
 with a man. Kate, bewildered at this sudden on- 
 slaught, sat perfectly still, but recovering herself, 
 leaned forward to look below the furry cap of the 
 man who had stopped her progress. She gave an 
 amazed cry : " Grandfather ! " 
 
 " Sh ! " said her captor. " Keep quiet, my girl ; 
 we'll have you home in a trice." 
 
i64 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 By this time Fred was overpowered, and Marianne, 
 held by a pair of strong arms, was indignantly pro- 
 testing against this procedure. *' I'm sorry," said a 
 voice, which sounded very familiar to Kate, ''but we'll 
 have to take you all along, if we want to get off at 
 all. You needn't be afraid that any one is going to 
 treat you badly. Miss Reyburn. Come, boys, we'll 
 let the horses go." 
 
 "Oh, but my parents, they will be so alarmed!" 
 cried Marianne. "They will think something dread- 
 ful has happened to us." 
 
 The man picked up a bit of birch bark, and scrib- 
 bled on it : " We are all safe, but are prisoners. We 
 are promised good care and a safe return." "There, 
 sign your name to that, and we'll let your horse carry 
 that home instead of you," said Marianne's captor, 
 still holding her by the wrist. Marianne obeyed, and 
 the note was fastened securely. "That will go as 
 safe as by post," said the man. "The horse will 
 probably go straight home." He turned Marianne's 
 gentle little mare, gave her a light cut, and she 
 cantered off. 
 
 By a short detour the members of the riding 
 party were led along the cliffs to a woody path which 
 took them to the river, which was still open. Here 
 two boats were waiting. "This is a pretty how-do- 
 you-do," said Fred to Marianne; "right here, in sight 
 
THE HUSKING 165 
 
 of our own shores, to be carried off like a bundle of 
 old clothes ! I hope we will get over without being 
 fired upon by our own people." 
 
 '* You'll not be fired upon," said his escort. '*We 
 brought over some provender, and we've a right to go 
 back. There are plenty of folks along here who can 
 be bought off with a small sum ; and if you think 
 there's no bartering back and forth, you are mistaken. 
 We are all good loyalists here, except perhaps yourself." 
 
 " I am an American soldier, and no loyaHst to your 
 British king." 
 
 ** I am no loyalist, either," spoke up Marianne. 
 **At least, I am loyal to my own country but not to 
 that wicked old England." 
 
 " Sh ! " warned Fred, fearing for the girl in her 
 outspoken declaration ; but the man only laughed. 
 "We don't care what little lasses profess to be; it's 
 only the men we are fighting. My son and daughter 
 and the rest of us are good loyalists, so we are in 
 the majority." 
 
 ** Your son and daughter!" cried Marianne. *'Then 
 you are Mr. Silverthorn. I thought your voice 
 sounded very familiar. Oh, now I don't so much 
 mind, though it was very mean of you to grab us 
 in this way. You'll not hurt Cousin Fred, Mr. 
 Silverthorn? I think you ought to let him go." She 
 laid her hand on the young man's arm. 
 
i66 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 " He's your cousin Fred, is he. I guess we don't 
 want to hurt him, but we'll have to take him. over 
 just for the fun of the thing; and when we get home, 
 we'll see what Jack has to say about it. We'll treat 
 you rebels according to the way you've treated my 
 boy and girl." 
 
 Marianne was conscious that personally she had 
 n©t treated Jack very well, but she knew his creature 
 comforts had been well supplied, and so far as the 
 rest of her family were concerned, he would have no 
 complaint to make ; so she concluded that she would 
 have to accept the situation, which was much less 
 dreadful than it at first seemed. 
 
CHAPTER XI 
 
 A Turning of the Tables 
 
 IT was nearly dark when the boat touched the oppo- 
 site shore, and the company disembarked. They 
 proceeded on their way unmolested, and at last a 
 friendly beam ahead showed them that they were near- 
 ing the Silverthorns' house. Kate's voice trembled with 
 eagerness as she cried, *' I can see into the room, and 
 there is Sue. Dear Sue! I wonder if she suspects." 
 
 "Not a bit of it," replied her father. "We don't 
 give information of our secret expeditions. She will 
 be as surprised as you were." 
 
 As the little procession came around the corner of 
 the house, Sue came to the door and peered out. " Is 
 that you, father.?" she asked. "Down, Caesar! you 
 needn't bark so furiously ; it's all right." 
 
 " It's myself, daughter, sure enough," her father 
 told her. "We've brought you visitors. Sue; extra 
 company for supper." 
 
 Then Kate darted forward and threw herself in 
 her sister's arms. " Sue, dear old Sue, we're all 
 here!" 
 
 167 
 
i68 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 " What ! " Sue could hardly believe her ears. " Kate 
 and Jack and Royal, and actually Marianne ! What 
 does it all mean ? " 
 
 "It means," said her father, laughing, ''that we've 
 turned the tables and taken them all prisoners. First, 
 they were the Reyburns' prisoners, and now they are 
 the Silverthorns'. Come in, boys. Take this young 
 lady upstairs. Sue; she's our prisoner, too." 
 
 "I never heard of such a thing!" Sue exclaimed. 
 "You don't really mean it, father. Tell me the truth. 
 I want to hear all about it." 
 
 "Want to hear all about it, hey .^ I shouldn't won- 
 der if there were not a little curiosity in other quar- 
 ters. It's a surprise all around. We went over the 
 river, a party of us, to see if we could get some prov- 
 ender, supplies being rather short on this side, and 
 as we were reconnoitring about there, what did we 
 see but a party of horsemen — and horsewomen — ap- 
 proaching. We didn't know there were any women 
 in the party and were a bit scared, for we thought 
 we might be going to have a skirmish ; but as they 
 came nearer, what was our surprise to see it was our 
 own young folks. All of a sudden it popped into my 
 head that it would be a good joke to capture them 
 and carry them back home again, so I spoke to the 
 others and they fell into my plan, — thought it would 
 be a good joke ; and we hid ourselves in the bushes till 
 
A TURNING OF THE TABLES 169 
 
 they came along, and then we grabbed them. You 
 never saw a more startled set in your life. I thought 
 it was high time we had our boy and girl home again ; 
 and then it didn't seem more than right that we should 
 entertain those who had been entertaining them, and 
 so we brought along Miss Marianne and her company. 
 There you have the whole story." 
 
 "That's the way of it, was it.''" said Jack. "And 
 it was a surprise to you as well as to us. I am afraid, 
 though, that Mr. and Mrs. Reyburn will think we are 
 rather impolite to take such unceremonious leave of 
 them after all their kindness to us." 
 
 " You can write them as polite a note as you choose, 
 and I reckon we'll find a way to get it through the 
 lines ; you see we have an officer of the king right 
 at hand, — your grandfather, the major, there." 
 
 "Is grandfather a major.?" exclaimed Kate. "We 
 will have to walk a chalk line now." 
 
 " Major Silverthorn he is, so we can dispose of our 
 prisoners at once. Shall we draw and quarter them, 
 major, or put them in a dungeon.?" he asked, looking 
 at Marianne with a quizzical smile as he spoke. 
 
 "Jack and Royal can return to their regiment when 
 the call comes for action," said Major Silverthorn. 
 "The young lady is our guest," he bowed to Mari- 
 anne, "and this young gentleman — well, we'll see 
 about him to-morrow." 
 
170 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 " I'm on parole, sir," said Jack. 
 
 " But, bless me ! you didn't try to get away ; we 
 fetched you," said his father. 
 
 '' I'll not go back on my word, whether it was by 
 my own act or not that I got away," Jack assured 
 him. 
 
 His grandfather nodded approval. "That's an 
 honorable spirit, my boy. I like to hear you speak 
 so. I think we may release Mr. Lyle on parole. 
 Consider these your quarters, Mr. Lyle. You will 
 not go beyond the limits of our place here, you under- 
 stand, but you might have worse quarters." 
 
 Worse quarters, indeed, thought Fred, as he looked 
 around on the big comfortable room, plain in its 
 appointments, yet boasting more than one handsome 
 piece of furniture, brought from their old home by 
 the Silverthorns when they fled from the States. Fred 
 was perfectly ready to give his parole, and all but 
 Marianne seemed quite satisfied with the state of 
 affairs. 
 
 " I have not a stitch of clothing except what I have 
 on," Marianne complained. 
 
 "You can go to grandmother's and get something 
 there," Royal told her. "This is something like a 
 joke, for no one is hurt, and we are simply returning 
 a visit. I think even father could see the humor in 
 this." 
 
A TURNING OF THE TABLES 171 
 
 The reminder that she would be able to see her 
 grandmother appeased Marianne somewhat and she 
 showed a more contented face. 
 
 The half-dozen men who had accompanied the Sil- 
 verthorns upon their expedition had tramped away 
 as soon as the captured party was safe indoors. 
 "Now, Miss Marianne," said Mr. Silverthorn, "it's 
 only fair that you should pay us as long a visit as 
 Kate paid you. You needn't be afraid that our friends 
 that have just gone out are going to stand guard over 
 you. They have gone for good, and you are as free 
 as air. It was all a joke about your being a prisoner. 
 Kate tells me that you were all very good to her and 
 Jack, and we have no scores to settle, except that you 
 carried Jack off and gave him a bad ankle." 
 
 "We didn't know it was Jack. I did so want to 
 get my father home again, and it seemed the only 
 way," she said wistfully. 
 
 Mr. Silverthorn noticed her embarrassment. " Well, 
 well, we won't go into whys and wherefores now. 
 You girls can have a good time, and the boys can 
 help you." 
 
 " I'll take you over to your grandmother's the first 
 thing to-morrow morning," said Jack. 
 
 " Royal can take me," she returned ungraciously. 
 
 Kate gave a little shiver. There was not unalloyed 
 bliss in getting home again. She had forgotten that 
 
1/2 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 Royal now would find no obstacle to his daily visits 
 to his grandmother's. 
 
 But here Royal spoke up. '' We'll all go. Wouldn't 
 you like the ride, Miss Kate .? " 
 
 "Yes," she returned, brightening. If Royal were 
 willing that she should be present at this first meet- 
 ing, it could not be so important an occasion to him 
 as one might suppose. 
 
 The new condition of affairs did not appear very 
 distasteful to any concerned. The sisters were re- 
 joiced to be together again; Royal did not seem to 
 be distressed at being an inmate of his friend's home ; 
 Jack was pleased for more reasons than one, and his 
 father beamed genially upon them all. Even Major 
 Silverthorn unbent somewhat, and it was quite a jolly 
 company that sat around the supper table ; and when 
 the next day Mr. Silverthorn brought word that they 
 had obtained an indorsement of their disposal of Fred 
 Lyle's case, it did not seem that Mr. Lyle was very 
 much perturbed by the news that he would be com- 
 pelled to stay where he was. Indeed, the whole thing 
 seemed more like a frolic than anything else, and so 
 the Silverthorns treated it, making many sly allusions 
 to the manner in which they had been compelled to 
 act in order to get their friends to visit them. 
 
 The girls enjoyed the situation, as what girls would 
 not. They chattered and laughed and had their con- 
 
^^ Each 7.'ith her attendant cavalier, rode up the mornino- after 
 the capture " 
 
A TURNING OF THE TABLES 173 
 
 fidences in the same fashion as has existed and will 
 exist as long as there are girls. 
 
 The surprise they gave Madame Desvouges was 
 such as might be expected. Marianne and Kate, each 
 with her attendant cavaher, rode up the morning after 
 the capture, startling Victorine from her corner and 
 the grandmother from her buttery. *' Mon Dieu de la 
 France ! What is that, Victorine ^ " called the old 
 lady. '' Some foraging party, I think. At this rate 
 we shall soon have nothing left. Where is Victor .'' " 
 But Victor had already seen the riders come up and 
 was hurrying toward them. He had caught sight of 
 a Httle figure that gladdened his heart, and he could 
 not hasten fast enough. 
 
 "That is no foraging party," declared Victorine. 
 " Those are women's voices. A visit from some of 
 the neighbors, no doubt." And then the door was 
 flung open, and ■ in ran Marianne crying : " Where 
 is everybody ? Grand'mere ! Victorine ! " 
 
 " Nomme de Dieu ! " cried Madame Desvouges. " It 
 is my granddaughter. What surprise is this ? " 
 
 Marianne jumped up and down, hugged her grand- 
 mother, flew to Victorine, then back to her grand- 
 mother. " Are you not amazed ? " she asked. " We 
 did not know we were coming ; we thought ourselves 
 prisoners. It is all very droll, as you will think when 
 you hear the story. Let me present my friends. Mr. 
 
174 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 Jack Silverthorn you have met, I think, and his sister 
 is here, too. So is Royal." Kate was standing back 
 a little, looking with all her eyes at the fair face of 
 Victorine. 
 
 " And where is Royal ? " asked the old lady. " Does 
 he not intend to embrace his grandmother.''" She 
 stood on tiptoe to kiss the young man on each cheek, 
 and then turned to Victorine. " Where are you, my 
 daughter.'' Come and see this naughty boy." Kate 
 gave a little gasp as Royal bent to kiss Victorine's prof- 
 fered cheek. He passed his hand over her beautiful 
 hair. " You are as like an angel as ever, Victorine," 
 he said in a low voice. And into the lovely eyes came 
 a look of tender joy. " And you, Royal, are as like to 
 a big naughty boy as ever." 
 
 " No angel about me," he laughed. " No, I am very 
 human." They spoke in French, which Kate only half 
 understood, but she needed no interpretation of Victo- 
 rine's happy smile. 
 
 *' And Victor ! Mercy, Victor," cried Marianne, as 
 the young man entered, *' you look scared to death ! 
 Am I, then, so frightful .'' " She ran to him and then 
 danced away again, making shocking faces at him, and 
 laughing and shaking her head as he attempted to 
 come near her. '' You are not allowed to kiss the 
 prisoners without permission from the authorities," she 
 cried. 
 
A TURNING OF THE TABLES 175 
 
 Victor turned to Royal. "What does she mean ? " 
 
 ''Come, come, Marianne," said her brother, ''keep 
 still and let us tell them the story. You fly about like 
 a feu follet. Sit down and let us tell them the 
 tale." 
 
 "And I will be the story-teller," Marianne an- 
 nounced. " No, no, I shall let no one else tell it. I 
 mean that grandmamma shall hear it from me, for I 
 know just what she will Hke best to know." And she 
 proceeded with her recital, interrupted by many excla- 
 mations, accompanied by Hfting of hands and shrug- 
 gings of shoulders. " And so," concluded Marianne, 
 "we are all here, and how long we stay depends upon 
 how soon we can get away." 
 
 "A wise speech, surely," laughed grand'mere. "But 
 must you be always at the house of your captors ? Is 
 not your proper place with your grandmother ? " 
 
 Marianne stole a mischievous glance at Kate, and 
 said solemnly, "But you see, grand'mere, you let one 
 prisoner get away." 
 
 "Mon Dieu!" cried Madame. "I let him get 
 away ! It was your own wicked contriving, ungrateful 
 one. Was it not well enough as it was, with the entire 
 family safe under my roof ^ " 
 
 "Yes, it was as it should be for all of us but my 
 father, and he did not know what might be his lot. He 
 did not know what a terrible fate might be his, for you 
 
176 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 know all these wicked Britishers treat their prisoners 
 with great disrespect and rudeness, even if they are 
 not absolutely cruel." 
 
 '* I protest," cried Jack, growing very red. But Kate 
 laughed, and said : '' You see, Madame, we have a very 
 difficult prisoner to deal with, and we should not allow 
 her out of our sight, otherwise she should be handed 
 over to her relatives. We promise you, however, that 
 when she gets to be more than we can manage, that we 
 shall send her to you ; and in any case, she shall see you 
 often." 
 
 "And you will come to see me," said Marianne, nod- 
 ding to Victorine, "you and Victor." 
 
 " Yes, please come," Kate urged earnestly. She 
 went up to Victorine and held out her two hands. " I 
 want you to come and see us. We have not been very 
 long in the neighborhood, and we know few of the 
 people." 
 
 Victorine looked at her wistfully. This bright sunny 
 girl, the very embodiment of health and strength and 
 fine proportion, did she really want her friendship ? 
 " Please say you will come," Kate begged, with her 
 own sweet smile. " Your brother will bring you, I am 
 sure." 
 
 "I do not often leave maman," Victorine pleaded as 
 an excuse. 
 
 " She will come, too. Oh, yes, she will. We will 
 
A TURNING OF THE TABLES 177 
 
 make an occasion. We will have a birthday party, 
 and I know you will not refuse to come." She begged 
 so earnestly that Madame herself, when asked, gave a 
 promise that satisfied Kate, and they all trooped out, 
 leaving the little grandmother well pleased. 
 
 But that night, long after all others were asleep, 
 Kate lay broad awake, her thoughts intent upon the 
 pathetic, beautiful face of Victorine La Rue, and she 
 whispered: ''Never, never! I will never stand between 
 them. It would be a wickedness for which I could 
 never forgive myself. We must find a way to make 
 her happy ; hers is the first claim. Royal must not 
 stay here." And in her little room under the sloping 
 roof, Victorine was on her knees, murmuring broken 
 prayers, the tears streaming from her eyes. " Make 
 me patient, dear Lord. Not my happiness, but his. 
 Mother Mary, pity me, help me ! " 
 
 The next day Kate linked her arm in Jack's, and 
 drew him down the path which led from the house. " I 
 want to talk to you, Jack," she said. " I want you to 
 help me to get Royal away. He ought to go to his 
 grandmother's, where he is needed." 
 
 ''Why — why," Jack stammered. Then he was 
 silent for a space. " I see, Kate," he said, after a 
 while. " I think I understand. Do you think it is 
 really as you were told ?" 
 
 " It ought to be so." 
 
173 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 " The girl has a lovely face, but I don't think Royal 
 cares in that way." 
 
 " She does, and that is enough. Oh, Jack, I have 
 strength and youth and everything. She is one of 
 God's unfortunates, and shall it be my place to snatch 
 this happiness from her, when she has been brought 
 up to think it will be hers.-*" 
 
 " Kate, you are a good girl." 
 
 " No, no. You don't know anything about it. I 
 could never be happy if I did one small thing to add to 
 her burden. If — if after I have done all I can, and 
 then it does not turn out as it should, Jack, — don't you 
 see that I shall then have nothing to reproach myself 
 for ? " 
 
 *' I see ; and for my part, I'll do my best to help you, 
 Kate. It is rather a delicate situation, but I think we 
 can let Royal understand that it is from no lack of 
 hospitality on our part." 
 
 "Then you will undertake it." 
 
 ''Yes— Kate." 
 
 ''Yes." 
 
 " Marianne — do you think she likes her cousin ? And 
 I say, I've had hard thoughts, but I'd be ashamed to 
 do less than you. I — perhaps I ought not to stand in 
 the way." 
 
 " But that is different," Kate interrupted eagerly. 
 " He is on equal ground with you. One is as strong 
 
A TURNING OF THE TABLES 179 
 
 and well as the other. If anything," she laughed, " he 
 has the advantage in looks. There's no need for your 
 Quixoticism there. Jack. Besides — " she hesitated, 
 ''you have no reason to think yourself favored, or that 
 you could stand in any one's way." 
 
 "That's so," returned Jack, so dejectedly that Kate 
 hastened to say : " But that is no reason why you 
 should not be some day. I am sure Marianne does 
 not care for her cousin or any one else in a romantic 
 way." 
 
 " You think not ? " doubtfully. 
 
 " No, I don't. I have been watching her. I think 
 she has a genuine affection for Victor La Rue, but it is 
 not like being in love." 
 
 " I never thought of him. By George ! I have no 
 doubt but that is what her grandmother would Hke. 
 He's a good fellow, but since I had my ideas set upon 
 the other fellow, I can't quite accept a possible rivalry 
 with the other one." 
 
 " Oh, I am not sure at all that she likes him best ; but 
 at all events, you have no reason to think that Mari- 
 anne would ever listen to you." 
 
 " No," said Jack, disconsolately. " I suppose it is 
 folly to hug such a delusion, when she would never 
 hsten to any one who was not on the American 
 side." 
 
 " Then I don't see that you need worry yourself to 
 
i8o A LOYAL LASS 
 
 make any sacrifices in another man's behalf. Let Fate 
 decide. With me it is different. Come, we will go 
 back to the house. I'll trust you to help me out, and 
 I'll do the same for you, if occasion requires." With 
 which compact, the conversation ended. 
 
CHAPTER XII 
 
 Trouble for Sue 
 
 SO far as Fred Lyle was concerned, it soon became 
 apparent that Jack need not consider him a rival, 
 for he was scarce a week under the Silverthorn's roof 
 before the young sergeant had eyes and ears for no one 
 but Sue, — a discovery which Jack was the last one to 
 make, and which he took triumphantly to Kate with the 
 remark, '' I say, Kate, do you know I believe Lyle's 
 making up to Sue." 
 
 " Do you ? " Kate returned, with laughter in her eyes. 
 " And how long since you made this wonderful dis- 
 covery } " 
 
 "Oh, I've suspected it for some time, but I didn't 
 think there was really anything in it till to-day. Look 
 here, did you know it .-* " 
 
 *' Did I know it ? Why, of course. Anybody but a 
 blind bat who has only eyes for a little whiffet of a girl 
 like Marianne would see it. Grandfather is in a rage 
 over it." 
 
 *'You don't say so!" 
 
 " Yes, and he's for getting him out of the house, 
 neck and heels, as speedily as possible." 
 
 i8i 
 
i82 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 ** Pshaw ! what's the matter with him ? Of course 
 nobody's good enough for Sue, but the fellow's a 
 gentleman, and she might do much worse." 
 
 ''Precisely, but he's not a loyahst." 
 
 " He's loyal to his own convictions and to his 
 father's teachings." Jack was disposed to look very 
 leniently upon this cousin of Marianne's, since he had 
 proved beyond doubt that he did not stand in Jack's 
 way. 
 
 " You know grandfather and his prejudices. He will 
 get father all stirred up next. Dear me ! we are all in 
 something of a fix." 
 
 " What does Sue say ? " 
 
 ''Nothing." 
 
 " Does she — is she interested ? " 
 
 "You know she has always declared herself more 
 American than British, and it is very likely that she has 
 a warm spot for the young sergeant ; yet it is too early 
 to say positively, and I don't suppose, as matters stand, 
 that it would break her heart to part with him. 
 Still — " 
 
 "Yes, still — " 
 
 " It is mean of grandfather to be so hard on him, as 
 if loving Sue were a terrible crime. If he should do 
 anything that would lead to Fred's misfortune, it would 
 be the surest way to increase Sue's regard for the 
 boy." 
 
TROUBLE FOR SUE 183 
 
 " He hasn't been talking to her about it, has he ? " 
 
 " Indeed, he has, then. He tackled her in the kitchen 
 this very morning. Sue had very little to say, — you 
 know her way of keeping silence when she feels the 
 most, — but I tell you the look on her face as she marched 
 out of the room made me know that she'd cross the 
 border if she dared." 
 
 " With Fred Lyle ? " 
 
 "Yes, or without him. Grandfather has taken the 
 wrong way to break off this affair, for I never saw Sue 
 give Mr. Lyle such a look as she did the next time they 
 chanced to meet." 
 
 ''Well, well, well!" Jack ejaculated. "It's a sort of 
 a mess all around. I'm good-natured, and I don't like 
 to fuss, but I say no one has a right to dictate to girls 
 and boys as big as we are when there is no moral ques- 
 tion, only a difference of fool politics. Such things 
 make a fellow stubborn ; it's what drove Royal from 
 his father's side, and it would drive me to the Yankees 
 if grandfather were to try to force me to his way of 
 thinking. We are all fond of old grand-dad, but he 
 can't pull strings and make us all jump to his bidding 
 like puppets. What does father say about all this ? " 
 
 "Oh, you know father. He just laughs and jokes 
 about it and won't see that there is any serious side." 
 
 " That's better than the other way. Well, Kate, we 
 all have our troubles, and what has turned out one for 
 
i84 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 Sue, has relieved me of one of mine. I shall not have 
 any duel to fight except with Victor." 
 
 '* Nonsense, you'll have no duels to fight. By the 
 way, do you expect to return to your regiment ? " 
 
 *' Yes, as soon as my parole is ended. There will be 
 no fighting anyhow for some time, for us volunteers, for 
 we have been dismissed to our homes, and the regulars 
 have gone into winter quarters. By spring the whole 
 affair may be settled, and I most devoutly hope it will 
 be." 
 
 But it was not settled by spring, and in the meantime 
 there was a parting between Sue and her lover, — a part- 
 ing which no one witnessed, and of which Sue would 
 not speak. Major Silverthorn very curtly announced 
 to the young man that it was decided to return him to 
 his own side with some others exchanged. " We do 
 not usually parole regulars," said the old gentleman, 
 " and in your case it was an exceptional favor that gave 
 you any sort of freedom. Your exchange has been 
 arranged, and you will leave to-morrow." 
 
 In polite terms Fred expressed his thanks for the 
 unusual consideration shown him, but made no further 
 comment. 
 
 Not long after this Royal took up his quarters at his 
 grandmother's, and Marianne passes her time between 
 the Silvcrthorns and the home of her grandmother, Mr. 
 Silverthorn, in his jocose way, insisting that she was 
 
TROUBLE FOR SUE 185 
 
 still their prisoner, and, chaffing her about it, pretended 
 that she could leave them only on parole, making a 
 great fuss over it when she did. Victorine and 
 Madame Desvouges fulfilled their promise of visiting 
 the Silverthorns, and Kate's gentle concern for both of 
 them quite won their hearts, so that one day the old 
 lady, in confidence, told Kate her hopes concerning her 
 grandchildren. *' If it would but arrange itself so," 
 she said plaintively, " I should have no compunctions 
 about the property. Victor marries Marianne ; I give 
 him the farm ; they are then both provided for. 
 Victorine marries Royal, and brings him the dot I have 
 saved for her. You see then this excellent plan ; I 
 provide at once for both my adopted children and my 
 grandchildren. My daughter thinks it a plan of most 
 excellent wisdom, and indeed I shall be desolated if it 
 comes not about. True, you say ; but would one want a 
 deformity for a wife ? I reply, but behold the angel 
 face, the soul of such beauty, the hfe so pure, so unself- 
 ish that one forgets there is not perfection of body. 
 You, for example, who have but lately met her, did she 
 repel you ? Were you shocked, abhorrent of her, my 
 poor Victorine .? " 
 
 " No, no," Kate hastened to say. " I was not. She 
 is, as you say, beautiful, attractive, lovable." 
 
 " Ah, but that gratifies me. We are so accustomed 
 to seeing her we forget, and I said to myself but the 
 
1 86 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 other day : I will ask the young demoiselles Silverthorn 
 if they were repelled by her, if she to them seemed 
 impossible." She peered up into Kate's face with her 
 bright dark eyes, and Kate felt herself grow warm 
 under the gaze. " You are such a creature of excellent 
 health, so robust and full of verve," Madame went on, 
 " that you, if any one, would feel the difference ; and 
 you do not dislike to be near this child of affliction ? " 
 
 " On the contrary, I find her a sweet, noble soul, one 
 whom it is a privilege to know." 
 
 Madame nodded with a satisfied air. Kate hesitated, 
 and then asked wistfully, "Your grandson, he, of 
 course — he knows your desire in this } " 
 
 '' Mon Dieu ! no," cried the old lady. '' We would 
 be of the most unwise to tell him now. He is at the 
 perverse age. He is young ; he will get over it. We 
 must be patient, that is all. I have made my will, and 
 in that I have expressed myself concerning the 
 matter." 
 
 " And Marianne ? " 
 
 '' Ah, that is different. It is for a girl to have her 
 marriage arranged for her. She has been told by both 
 her mother and myself, that she may expect to marry 
 Victor." 
 
 " And she accepts the arrangement ? " 
 
 '' Ah, well, she is young and full of the idea of living 
 nowhere but in her father's country ; but Victor is a 
 
TROUBLE FOR SUE 187 
 
 good boy ; she is fond of him. What more could she 
 ask ? When she is tired of her butterfly ways, and 
 desires to be settled as every woman should be, she will 
 be amiable enough. Oh, no, I have no fear for 
 Marianne. And Victor is content ; he understands. 
 He would not cage a wild bird and break its heart, he 
 says; but when it is tamed, that is different. She will 
 not then wish to hop beyond call, he tells me. He is 
 very patient and prudent, is Victor." 
 
 Kate kept her own counsel, but she took all this 
 confidence to heart. Marianne, a docile French girl, 
 accepting the arrangements made for her by mother 
 and grandmother ? No, indeed, they would find them- 
 selves mistaken in the girl. Had she not once said : 
 '' Liberty of thought, of speech, of action, that is to me 
 the most glorious condition of which we have to boast in 
 our country. I am like my father in that." " And yet," 
 sighed Kate, "that same father wanted to coerce 
 Royal, and he had resented it, too. Neither Royal nor 
 Marianne would submit to having their lives arranged 
 for them, and yet it would be a wise arrangement in 
 most directions. I don't think Marianne yet knows 
 what love is," thought the girl. " She is still such a child ; 
 but when she does care, it will be with all her heart. 
 Poor Victorine, poor Sue, poor Jack ! I won't pity 
 myself," said Kate, with a toss of the head and a com- 
 pression of the lips. 
 
i88 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 And that was how matters stood all winter. If 
 Royal made advances, Kate repelled them ; if Jack one 
 day felt that he had gained a little in Marianne's good 
 graces, the next she gave him a flout and a fling, so that 
 he was in the depths of despair. What Sue thought 
 she kept to herself, but that she had something to keep 
 was evident by the hardening of her face whenever 
 her grandfather began a tirade against the Yankees. 
 Major Silverthorn did not spare words upon such oc- 
 casions, even when Marianne was present. Once or 
 twice she began a protest, but the sudden bringing 
 together of Grandfather Silverthorn' s heavy eyebrows, 
 and his high-handed methods of disposing of Marianne's 
 remarks, sealed her lips for all future controversy. Be- 
 sides, Kate had begged her not to open a discussion. 
 *' Grandfather is very bitter," she said. " He suffered a 
 good deal at the hands of those he called rebels, and 
 was driven from his home in the dead of winter by the 
 Sons of Liberty. There was wrong done on both sides, 
 Marianne, but it doesn't do any good to argue the ques- 
 tion ; and besides, it makes it much harder for Sue. We 
 want to spare her, you know." So, for Sue's sake, as 
 well as to prevent the irascible old man from berating 
 Marianne herself, the girl thought discretion the better 
 part of valor, and kept silence. 
 
 Meanwhile it was pleasant enough at her grandmoth- 
 er's, and to avoid Grandfather Silverthorn she stayed 
 
TROUBLE FOR SUE 189 
 
 away more and more, spending her time with Victorine 
 at the loom, or helping her grandmother with her vari- 
 ous duties, or sometimes starting off with Victor for a 
 long walk or ride through the woods ; again she might 
 go skating with him, or dash off for a sleigh-ride. 
 Whatever else her grandmother forbade, it was never a 
 froHc in which Victor was concerned ; and Marianne, 
 knowing this, took advantage of it, having but to make 
 Victor her special pleader to obtain consent for any out- 
 ing. It pleased the girl well enough, too, to have him 
 with her, for Victor was a willing slave, and allowed her 
 to queen it over him magnificently, though sometimes 
 he did tease her and mock her. 
 
 Royal, in spite of the fact that he considered his 
 grandmother's house his real home, nevertheless spent 
 most of his time at the Silverthorn's, to his grand- 
 mother's displeasure and Kate's uneasiness. 
 
 When Marianne wanted to see these girl friends, she 
 had no trouble in finding an escort in her brother, and 
 so seldom called upon Victor to take her. Royal was 
 not much of a talker, except at times. He was either 
 gay and volatile or gloomy and morose. Marianne 
 knew enough to select a time when the lively mood was 
 in force to prefer her requests, and was seldom refused. 
 
 He was ready enough one winter afternoon to accept 
 her suggestion to take a sleigh-ride. " We can stop at 
 the Silverthorn's and get the girls," Marianne proposed, 
 
IQO A LOYAL LASS 
 
 " then we'll take a little ride in the cold, and be ready 
 with big appetites for supper." 
 
 ''Very well," responded Royal, with alacrity. "We 
 will go. Bundle up warm. We'll perhaps stop some- 
 where and get supper, so we'll take the big sleigh. I've 
 no doubt that Jack will be glad to go with us." 
 
 Marianne gave a little lift of her chin. *' Oh ! Jack ! 
 must he always go.?" 
 
 "Why not.!* He is a good fellow, I am sure, and 
 jolly company; and, besides, he is my friend." 
 
 " Oh, well, of course," Marianne returned lamely. 
 She ran up to the room she shared with Victorine and 
 donned a fur jacket and cap, pulling the flaps of the 
 latter well down over her ears, and was ready to start 
 off by the time Royal had the sleigh at the door ; for in 
 spite of his grandmother's protests, he generally man- 
 aged to secure her consent to the use of anything he 
 wanted. They found Kate and Sue quite in the humor 
 for a frolic, and Jack was nothing loath. So off they 
 started, through the woods and over the hard snowy 
 road ; Kate snuggled down by Royal's side on the front 
 seat, and Jack with Sue and Marianne behind these 
 two. Marianne had insisted that Sue should occupy the 
 middle place, and in this order they decided it. 
 
 "You are so quiet, Sue," said Marianne, when they 
 were well started. " What is wrong ? " 
 
 " Grandfather has been in one of his fierce moods 
 
TROUBLE FOR SUE 191 
 
 to-day," Jack explained. " Sometimes he gets too 
 personal. I don't mind it, but Sue does and has rea- 
 son to." 
 
 *' I think he is a most unpleasant, tyrannical old 
 gentleman," Marianne said, with fervor. 
 
 " And that is the reason you keep out of his way," 
 Jack said. 
 
 " Of course. I don't intend to place myself in dis- 
 agreeable company if I can avoid it. One cannot al- 
 ways choose one's company, but there are times when 
 it is possible. Never mind. Sue, you and I will skip 
 across the river some day and leave the wicked old 
 Britishers." 
 
 " Of whom I am one, I suppose," returned Jack, a 
 little too ready to take offence. He looked so unlike a 
 wicked old anything, with his boyish good-humored face, 
 that even Sue laughed. 
 
 "You are spoiling Jack's disposition," she said. 
 
 '* You may be wicked, but you are not old," Marianne 
 told him, demurely. " I should prefer that you were 
 the latter if you could be but one." 
 
 "What if I were both, wherein could I be better?" 
 Jack asked. 
 
 "You could cross the river and join our army," said 
 Marianne, quickly. 
 
 " And add to my other sins that of being a traitor. 
 You would like me to do that ? " 
 
192 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 ''Well, no, I don't suppose I would, come to think of 
 it. No, I see there is no way to improve your sad con- 
 dition. You are hopelessly beyond benefiting. It is 
 too bad that you committed yourself, or otherwise you 
 could join our side and not be a traitor. I should like 
 to hear you shout, * Free trade and sailors' rights,' and 
 see you trying to avenge the massacre of our men by 
 your Indians." Jack compressed his lips, but said noth- 
 ing. It was Marianne's habit to make these little flings, 
 and to give him to understand that she endured him 
 simply for the sake of his sisters and of her brother. 
 Having accompUshed her purpose in annoying him, 
 Marianne laughed and whispered to Sue, " * Free trade 
 and sailors' rights ' ; that's Cousin Fred's cry, you know." 
 Sue made no reply except to give Marianne's hand a 
 quick pressure. 
 
 They were approaching a comfortable farmhouse, 
 the owners of which were ready to entertain friends at 
 quick notice, to pop a meat pasty in the oven, to warm 
 up a fowl already roasted, and to have a warm meal 
 ready for whoever might need it. There seemed a 
 little embarrassment visible as the sleighing-party en- 
 tered, but as the supplies in this part of the country 
 were getting low, the visitors attributed the confusion 
 to this fact. 
 
 " Don't bother about a hot supper for us, Mrs. 
 Hunter," said Royal. " A dish of porridge to warm 
 
TROUBLE FOR SUE 193 
 
 us will be quite as much as we expect, and more than 
 we deserve." 
 
 ** We will be able to give you something more, 
 I hope," the good woman replied. " Will you go 
 to the other room, girls, and lay off your things .'' " 
 
 " I will stay and help you," Kate said. ** Here, Sue, 
 carry in my cloak and hood." Sue hung the heavy cloak 
 over her arm and followed Marianne into the next room. 
 
 *'Just put them on the bed," Mrs. Hunter directed 
 them. 
 
 The two girls obeyed and deposited their wraps upon 
 the plump white bed ; then they stood before the small 
 mirror to arrange their disordered ringlets, by the dim 
 light of a candle. The room opened upon a porch on 
 one side, and into the kitchen on the other. There was 
 a small closet by the chimneypiece, and the door of it 
 stood ajar. Sue turned away from the glass. " I have 
 an uncomfortable feeling as if some one were looking at 
 me," she remarked. *' Did you ever have that creepy 
 feeling, Marianne ? " 
 
 " I don't know. Not just that. Perhaps some one is 
 looking in the window. It is so dark outside that we 
 couldn't see if any one was there." 
 
 Sue gave a swift glance at the window, and drew 
 back. Then she looked around and gave a suppressed 
 scream. "Oh, Marianne, there is some one there in 
 the closet. I saw the door move." 
 
194 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 " It's only the wind. Don't be scary, Sue. You are 
 not given to being so nervous." 
 
 •'I know — but— " 
 
 ** Come, I'll open the door and show you." She 
 advanced toward the small door of the closet, but it 
 was suddenly flung open, and a man stood before them, 
 raising a silencing finger. *' Cousin Fred ! " Marianne 
 exclaimed, in a whisper. 
 
 **Fred!" murmured Sue. "What are you doing 
 here .? " 
 
 " I was on my way to see you," he told her. " I 
 could not stand it any longer. I may be ordered away 
 at any moment, and the thought that I might never 
 see you again was too much for me. The Hunters, 
 I learned, were secretly friends to our side, and they 
 sheltered me. I meant to try to get word to you some- 
 how, and fortune has favored me. How can I see you 
 for a little while without suspicion from those outside ? 
 Your brother, and yours, Marianne, would have a right ; 
 and it would be their duty to take me." 
 
 "They are calling us now," said Sue, in perturbation. 
 And just then Kate's voice was heard at the door. 
 
 " What are you girls doing so long in there ? " she 
 inquired. 
 
 "We'll be there presently," Sue answered faintly. 
 " Oh, what excuse can we make ? " She turned to 
 Marianne. 
 
TROUBLE FOR SUE 195 
 
 Immediately Marianne flung herself on the bed. " I 
 am suddenly ill, Sue. Tell them, and you must stay 
 here with me. I'll manage it. Go ask Mrs. Hunter 
 if she can make me a cup of ginger tea. Go back into 
 your hiding-place, Cousin Fred." 
 
 He stepped into the closet, and Marianne set up 
 such a moaning and groaning as brought Kate to her 
 side. " Poor child ! " she exclaimed sympathetically, 
 " you shouldn't have taken that long ride ; it was far 
 enough to our house without this added distance. You 
 have taken cold, I am afraid." 
 
 " Don't let me keep you," said Marianne, in a weak 
 voice. "Go back to Mrs. Hunter. Sue will stay with me." 
 
 Kate retired, and presently Mrs. Hunter came 
 bustling in, all concern. Marianne sat up and whis- 
 pered something to her. " I am not really ill," was 
 what she said, ''but I must make an excuse for Sue 
 and me to remain after the others have gone. Will 
 you mind keeping us here to-night.'' It is for Fred 
 and Sue, you understand, Mrs. Hunter." 
 
 The good woman nodded assent. " Keep you .? Of 
 course, as long as you want to stay. I was young once 
 myself, my child." 
 
 *' And not so long ago," returned Marianne. " Say 
 to them in there that I must be quiet, and that you 
 have given me an herb drink, and if I can get to sleep 
 I shall feel better." 
 
196 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 " That I will do, and the herb drink will do you no 
 harm, either. I will keep them all out and send them 
 home in good order." 
 
 "We will settle the other matters when they have 
 gone," Marianne decided. 
 
 Mrs. Hunter went out, carefully shutting the door 
 behind her, and they heard her make her report accord- 
 ing to Marianne's directions. 
 
 ** I will pretend I am asleep, Sue," said Marianne, 
 ** and you can then go and eat your supper. In doing 
 that there will be less suspicion. Then you must in- 
 sist that you will stay with me and that we will return 
 in the morning. Now go. I can't help it if it is a de- 
 ceit ; there is no other way." For answer Sue bent over 
 and kissed her ; and Marianne, left to herself, cuddled 
 down in the big feather-bed, drawing a warm comfort- 
 able over her. She did not dare to speak to her 
 cousin lest their whispered conference be overheard. 
 
 It was not long before Sue and Kate returned. " She 
 is awake," said Kate, as Marianne opened her eyes 
 from her feigned nap. *'Are you feeUng better, 
 dear.?" 
 
 " Yes," said Marianne, in a feeble tone. 
 
 " But she must not go out to-night into the cold," 
 said Mrs. Hunter, who had followed the others into the 
 room. 
 
 " Then I shall stay with her," Kate declared. 
 
TROUBLE FOR SUE 197 
 
 " No, Sue promised that she would," Marianne told 
 her. 
 
 "Oh, well," Kate made reply, a little hurt. But 
 Marianne drew her down and whispered : — 
 
 " Royal will be so disappointed if you do not re- 
 turn." 
 
 Kate shook her head, but smiled and made no 
 further demur. So presently the depleted party drove 
 off, and the two girls were left to themselves. 
 
CHAPTER XIII 
 
 Runaways 
 
 AS the sleigh-bells commenced their departing 
 jingle Marianne sprang from the bed. '' Now 
 then, they are gone ! " she cried. " That I hope was 
 an excusable deception. Come out, Cousin Fred, and 
 tell us the rest of your story ; you must be tired enough 
 of your close corner." 
 
 The young man obeyed with alacrity, and began to 
 tell them of the battle of Frenchtown, saying, " I sup- 
 pose you have not yet heard what has befallen us in 
 the battle on the 23d of January at Frenchtown. It is 
 the latest news I bring and bad enough at that. At 
 first our side was successful, but we were surprised by 
 a combined force of British and Indians, and a most 
 horrible massacre ensued. It makes one's blood run 
 cold to think of it, and I will spare you details. Hun- 
 dreds of brave Kentuckians, my own friends and 
 relatives among them, were scalped and mutilated by 
 the savages. Do you wonder that I long for revenge, 
 and for a chance for active service } " 
 
 198 
 
RUNAWAYS 199 
 
 The girls listened, pale and horror-stricken. 
 
 " I have begged to be sent to the front," said Fred, 
 " but before I should go, I felt that I must make an effort 
 to see you. Sue, dear. I took my chances, for I felt 
 that I could not go without one more word with you." 
 
 " Don't say that, after the dreadful tale you have 
 been telling us." Sue held out her hands supphcat- 
 ingly. " It will be harder than ever to sit mute and 
 listen to grandfather's tirades against you. Oh, Fred, 
 to think you might have been one of those to fall by 
 the hand of those murderous Indians. How can I let 
 you go ? Pray do not try to be in the thick of it. Let 
 fate take its course and do not court danger." 
 
 He came closer and took her hands. ^' You love 
 me, Sue.^" 
 
 She gave a quick glance at Marianne before she 
 whispered, "Yes." 
 
 " Never mind my little cousin," said Fred, smiling at 
 Marianne. " You are our good friend, Marianne, I 
 know." 
 
 "Yes, yes," Marianne replied eagerly, "and I shall be 
 glad, very glad, Sue, dear, to have you for my cousin." 
 
 Sue smiled faintly, then asked her lover wistfully, 
 " Must you go back soon } " 
 
 "•Yes, it was a risk to come at all, you know." 
 
 "And after you return, will you go to the front at 
 once .? " 
 
200 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 ** I cannot tell just how soon, but at all events I 
 cannot stay here very long." 
 
 " No, I can see that, but," she put her hand on his 
 arm, "it seems harder than ever to let you go." 
 
 " If you were but on the other side of the river, we 
 could be together till the time came when I should be 
 ordered away. Sue, dear heart, do you love me 
 enough to forsake your family and to take the 
 chances of a soldier's wife now, when it may bring 
 you greater sorrow if I fall.''" 
 
 She clung to him closely, "Oh Fred, I love you 
 enough for anything," she whispered, "but — if I 
 could know what is right! Would it make you 
 happier, dear ? " 
 
 "Happier! You know that. Sue; and if anything 
 can make me fight more desperately, it will be the 
 thought of my wife waiting my return." 
 
 "Your wife.''" Sue's whisper was a half sigh. 
 
 " Yes, sweet. Shall it be so .? Will you consent to 
 it.? To cross the river with me where we can best 
 get over on the ice ? Do you think your parents would 
 receive us. Cousin Marianne .? Would you — could you 
 send with us a message to your parents, commending 
 Sue to their charge ^ " 
 
 " I } Gladly, Cousin Fred. And — yes, I know my 
 mother will welcome Sue, and our home shall be hers 
 while you are away." 
 
RUNAWAYS 20I 
 
 " Good girl. Thank you, cousin. So, Sue — " 
 
 *'Yes.?" 
 
 " Shall we do this ? And after the war we will go 
 back to Kentucky, God willing, and I shall be proud 
 to present my wife to my family there." 
 
 Sue smiled up at him and nodded assent, her heart 
 too full for words. And then Mrs. Hunter came in to 
 remind Marianne that she had had no supper, and they 
 all went into the kitchen together. 
 
 The first dim light of dawn was stealing over the 
 land when Sue bade Marianne a tearful good-by. 
 " Wouldn't it be better if I were to go, too ? " Marianne 
 asked. 
 
 Sue shook her head. " No, no, I will not have any 
 censure come to you through me. I shall have Fred, 
 and I am not afraid. You will try to comfort Kate 
 and be a sister to her. I would rather have you stay 
 for that. It will not be so hard for Kate if she is 
 not left alone ; and I hope soon, soon there will be no 
 barrier to separate us. Tell father I love him dearly 
 as I have always done, and that I hope he will forgive 
 me for leaving him." 
 
 So they watched her depart into the gray of the 
 morning, confident in her love and faith, and yet with 
 a strange longing and regret tugging at her heart. 
 
 Of course there was a scene at the Silverthorns when 
 the news of Sue's flight was brought them. It was 
 
202 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 Royal who spared his Httle sister the pain of telling 
 it. " I can stand the Major's explosions of wrath," 
 he insisted. " You can tell Kate if you like, and I 
 will face the others." 
 
 " My poor Sue," said Kate, the tears gathering in 
 her eyes ; " it seems so pitiful that she must go with- 
 out one of us to wish her happiness. Oh, I hope 
 she will be happy ; but I shall miss her so, and I can- 
 not quite forgive Fred for being willing to have her 
 leave us all without a word." She put her head down 
 on Marianne's shoulder and wept softly. Presently 
 she wiped away her tears. ** I must go to father," 
 she said. " He is the one who needs me." 
 
 Marianne wisely stayed behind, and Royal slipped 
 from the room when Kate appeared. Major Silver- 
 thorn was storming up and down the floor, uttering 
 all manner of execrations. Kate paid no heed to him, 
 but went directly to her father, who gathered her into 
 his arms. The humorous twinkle was gone from his 
 eye, and his mouth was gravely set. "You are not 
 angry, too, father.?" Kate whispered. 
 
 " Angry with my girl ? No." He shook his head. 
 ** She had no mother to teach her patience and pru- 
 dence, my poor little Sue. She is not to blame." 
 
 " And you will forgive her when she comes back ? " 
 
 " Forgive her .'' There's nothing to forgive. I am 
 to blame myself. I should not have treated it all so 
 
RUNAWAYS 203 
 
 lightly. It was no joke to her, poor child. While she 
 was eating her heart out with fear and anxiety, I 
 laughed at her." He drew his hand across his eyes. 
 
 Kate clung closer to him and would not have him blame 
 himself, rather counting herself at fault. And so they 
 comforted each other, and no one felt harshly toward 
 poor Sue except the inflexible major. Jack heard the 
 news gravely. It was Kate who told him, and he had 
 no comment to make but, *' Poor Sue, I hope she will be 
 happy. Fred is a good fellow if he does belong to the 
 other side, though I think he was wrong to steal our 
 sister away." 
 
 But soon there was little time to consider anything 
 but near and immediate dangers. As the spring 
 opened, hostilities were renewed. 
 
 The invasion of Canada was still the object of the 
 Americans. Their regular force was now nearly sixty 
 thousand, while that of Sir George Prevost, governor 
 of Canada, was comparatively small. Up to this time 
 neither side had displayed very excellent tactics, and 
 the border country, except in special localities, had not 
 suffered greatly. But the day of terror was near. The 
 employment of Indian allies was sufficient fact to deter- 
 mine a season of horrible warfare, and the more timid 
 were trembhng at the possibilities in store for them. 
 
 In February Sir George Prevost directed an attack 
 against Ogdensburg, capturing the American stores 
 
204 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 and artillery. It was considered so great a victory that 
 a message was sent to the commanding officer of Fort 
 Niagara, informing him that a salute would be fired 
 from Fort George in honor of the affair. The Ameri- 
 can officer sent a return message to the effect that he 
 was gratified to be able to return the compliment, as 
 he intended to fire a salute from his fort at the same 
 time, having just received news of a brilliant naval vic- 
 tory : that of the Peacock over the British ixig'^X.^ Java. 
 Probably no one enjoyed the humor of this more than 
 Mr. Silverthorn, and he laughed with Marianne over 
 the Yankee wit of Colonel McFeely. 
 
 With the disappearance of the ice from the streams 
 and the lakes the military movements were started, and 
 then Marianne's grandmother clamored for her to 
 remain with her altogether. *' I shall not have a mo- 
 ment's peace," the old lady declared, *' with both you 
 and Royal in the midst of danger." 
 
 '' But shall I be any safer here t " Marianne asked. 
 
 " Surely, yes. Monsieur Silverthorn has chosen a 
 most isolated habitation, and who could ever discover 
 if a horde of savages were suddenly to descend upon 
 you all there .?" 
 
 '' But it does not seem right to desert Kate." 
 
 " And what is to prevent the coming of Mademoiselle 
 Kate, too .? " 
 
 But to this Kate would not listen. " It is right for 
 
RUNAWAYS 205 
 
 you to go to your grandmother's," she decided, "for 
 famihes should keep together if they can at such times, 
 and for that reason I must stay here where father and 
 Jack can come if they need me." 
 
 " But if danger seems nearer you than us, you will 
 come ? " said Marianne. 
 
 *' If I can. You must not worry about me. We are 
 so far out of the way that for that very reason we shall 
 probably be safer than those nearer the village and the 
 high road." 
 
 So Marianne left her reluctantly, and arrived at her 
 grandmother's to hear them all talking of the attack 
 upon York. General Pike had been killed, and it was 
 reported that the American fleet was coming down the 
 lake. Then came the positive information that General 
 Dearborn had evacuated York and was making for the 
 Niagara country. 
 
 " There will be trouble for us now," said Victor, who 
 brought the news. And it was not long before the first 
 booming of the great guns from the batteries on both 
 sides the river told them that the trouble had begun. 
 The thunders of the cannons were silenced by night, 
 but began again the next morning. Except for the 
 constant booming, it was quiet enough at the Desvouges 
 farm, but there v/as confusion enough beyond, — troops 
 marching, fighting, shouting ; flags waving, drums beat- 
 ing, fifes shrilly playing. From time to time one or 
 
2o6 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 another of these sounds came faintly to the ears of the 
 family. By noon Fort George had been surrendered, 
 and by night all was quiet. The Niagara frontier was 
 abandoned by the British. 
 
 "My father! My father! I shall see him soon," 
 Marianne cried delightedly. 
 
 " I would not count upon it too surely," her grand- 
 mother warned her. 
 
 " But why } He will surely come. He must have 
 been there with his regiment." 
 
 " Yes, but this is war, my child. It does not mean 
 that there are none slain, nor wounded." 
 
 *' Oh ! " Marianne had not for a moment considered 
 such a possibility, since her friends were the victors. 
 She grew suddenly pale. " Do you think he is killed, 
 grand'mere } " she asked, in an awed tone. 
 
 ** Tut, tut, my child, I did not say so. I but warned 
 you not to be too confident of seeing him. The for- 
 tunes of war are so very uncertain." 
 
 But the girl did not hear her. She had sprung to 
 her feet. '* He is coming now ! I hear him ! I see 
 him ! " she cried. '* Father ! Father ! " She sprang 
 to the door to meet him, indeed, upon the very sill, hale 
 and hearty and weather-beaten. 
 
 *'You have come! You have come!" cried Mari- 
 anne, catching him around the neck and receiving a 
 mighty embrace. 
 
RUNAWAYS 207 
 
 " Come, sure enough; and not alone, either," replied 
 her father with a laugh. '' This time there are plenty 
 to keep me in countenance." 
 
 " It is true, then ; we have taken Fort George ? " 
 
 "Yes, and five hundred prisoners." 
 
 " Good ! " But a sudden thought sobered her. " Do 
 you suppose that Royal and the Silverthorns are 
 among them ? " she asked gravely. 
 
 Her father's smile faded. " I do not know. We 
 shall see." Then he brightened again. ''You are on 
 our soil to-night, daughter." 
 
 " So I am, and long enough have I been off it. Now 
 do tell me the news, father. Mother and Jerusha are 
 well ? " 
 
 " Yes, but anxious to see you. Let me have a word 
 with your grandmother, and then I will tell you all 
 that you are so ready to hear." He turned to Madame 
 Desvouges and chatted with her while Marianne waited 
 impatiently her turn. A long sigh drew her grand- 
 mother's attention to the wistful face. She laughed. 
 " I see I shall be considered an old one most tiresome, 
 if I do not give way to this questioner. We shall have 
 to send her to bed very early in order to converse." 
 
 "I do want to hear about Sue," said Marianne, 
 eagerly. 
 
 " She is still with your mother, and a great comfort 
 to her in your absence. Naughty Httle Marianne, you 
 
2o8 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 let her steal a march on you. I had looked to see 
 you in her place." 
 
 Marianne laughed. '' Cousin Fred could not wait 
 for me, it seems, for I have no mind to marry yet, and 
 I am very well content to have Sue for a cousin. Isn't 
 she a fine girl .'' " 
 
 " She is, and Fred is a fine fellow." 
 
 " They ought to be very happy, then, and I suppose 
 they are. Is Fred with you.? Was he in the battle 
 to-day ? " 
 
 " Yes, and came out of it safe and sound. To-mor- 
 row you shall see him, and your mother, too, I hope." 
 
 " Here .? " 
 
 "Or at our own home." 
 
 "No, here," interrupted Madame Desvouges, "and 
 then we shall all have the pleasure. I protest at break- 
 ing up a family again," 
 
 " We must get Kate, and — oh, but it will be fine to 
 have every one safe, and to feel that one does not have 
 to hide and contrive and beware of enemies at every 
 turn. Grand'mere forgives you for making her an 
 American, I know she does. Yes, grand'mere, this is 
 American soil now, and you cannot do or say anything 
 against any of us or you will be made a prisoner as I 
 make you one now." She encircled the old lady's 
 waist with her arms and would not let her go. 
 
 "To-morrow, Victor," said Madame, "you will go 
 
RUNAWAYS 
 
 209 
 
 and bring my daughter and her friend home. Do not 
 forget to start early." 
 
 "And we will go and get Kate, and have a grand 
 family reunion. Will it not be fine, Victorine ? " 
 
 Victorine smiled sadly. Her thoughts flew to Royal. 
 Was he this night wounded, a prisoner, or dead.? 
 "Your brother, too, should be here to make it com- 
 plete," she said. 
 
 "True," Marianne sighed. "I hope he is safe. I 
 forgot that one can never be completely happy ; there 
 is always a thorn somewhere." But where Royal was 
 at that moment they little knew. 
 
CHAPTER XIV 
 
 Kate and Royal 
 
 THE hearthstone of the Silverthorns was cold. 
 Before it sat Kate, with her throbbing head 
 between her hands. Up and down the country had 
 been raging the conflicting armies. Her father, her 
 grandfather. Jack, Royal, had gone forth to battle, but 
 not one had returned to her. Where were they } She 
 shivered, though the mild May evening brought little 
 chill in it. Her supper was forgotten. The day had 
 passed like a nightmare ; and now at evening, with the 
 triumphing Americans in possession, she felt deserted, 
 lonely, despairing. If but one of her friends would 
 come and bring her news ; if but one would return to 
 comfort her ! In a dull way she felt that she must not 
 leave her post lest she be needed. '' But how fooHsh ! 
 how foolish ! " she said aloud. *' They cannot come 
 back into the enemy's country ; it isn't their country 
 any more." 
 
 She aroused herself wearily, and went to the door. 
 The peace of evening was over the landscape. Bloody 
 
KATE AND ROYAL 211 
 
 scenes of revenge and warfare seemed far enough 
 away, but the lovehness of the view only brought tears 
 to the girl's eyes, and she went inside again, sitting 
 dejectedly down at the table and resting her head upon 
 her arms. 
 
 The daylight faded, and as darkness came on from 
 out of the stillness of the night some one stealthily 
 approached, stood for a moment listening, then pushed 
 open the door. Kate, hearing the sound, sprang to her 
 feet and held out two trembling hands. ** Royal ! " she 
 cried, " Royal ! " There was such longing and relief 
 in her tones that he gathered her to his heart without 
 a question. 
 
 " My poor lonely darling, my poor little Kate ! Why 
 have you stayed here by yourself ? It was not safe, 
 Kate." He laid her head against his breast, and kissed 
 her white forehead. 
 
 ** But you .'' " she asked. " Is it safe for you ? " 
 
 " Safe enough. It is quiet now." 
 
 "My father, and Jack, and grandfather — what of 
 them.?" 
 
 He was silent a moment before answering. **Jack 
 and Major Silverthorn are prisoners. Your father — " 
 he paused again, and held her closer. " Can you bear 
 to hear it, dearest .? " 
 
 "Yes, yes," she whispered, clinging to him. 
 
 " He was mortally wounded. We took him to a 
 
212 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 house not far from here. We will lay him to rest in 
 the morning." 
 
 Kate broke away from him and stretched out help- 
 less hands. '' Where is my comfort } " she moaned. 
 " I am all alone, all alone." 
 
 Royal took the cold hands in his. " Dearest Kate, I 
 told your father I would take care of you. You will 
 let me, Kate.?" 
 
 She gazed at him with wide unseeing eyes. " No, 
 no ! " She made a gesture which sent him back a 
 step, and her head moved painfully from side to 
 side. 
 
 To see her suffering was more than Royal could 
 bear, and he came to her side again and possessed him- 
 self of her hand. *' Do you mean that you do not love 
 me, Kate } " he asked, in a low, troubled tone. She was 
 silent, but kept her face turned from him and covered 
 by her free hand. "You know, Kate dearest, you 
 must know that I love you, that I have loved 
 you from the first. It does not seem a time to 
 speak of it, but — I thought to-night — when I 
 came in, that you loved me, too. And you do not, 
 Kate.?" 
 
 "I must not," she replied, still sobbing. 
 
 " It does not seem a time to speak of it," Royal 
 repeated, " but your father was so troubled for you, 
 and I told him I would cherish you, love you, care for 
 
KATE AND ROYAL 213 
 
 you, if you would be my wife, Kate ; and he was glad, 
 and told me to give you his blessing. If you do not 
 love me, Kate, I will not worry you again." 
 
 She turned her sad eyes upon him. '' I must not," 
 she repeated. 
 
 " You will tell me why ? Why must you not ? Have 
 I a right to know ? " 
 
 "Victorine," she said faintly. "It is to her you 
 should tell your love." 
 
 *' Victorine .'' I have told her of my love." 
 
 Kate looked at him wildly. Her mouth twitched, 
 and she asked in a hysterical gasp, " Then why ? 
 then why ? " She turned from him and sat down on 
 the doorstep, sobbing again in a pitiful, helpless 
 way. 
 
 Royal looked at her in a sort of wonder, then he 
 sat down by her side. '' I have told her, Kate. I 
 told her long ago. She is the only one who knows 
 about it ; and she said she would love you, too, and if 
 anything happened to me, she promised that she would 
 be to you as a sister. You see — you know how things 
 are at home ; I could not tell them there, and so I 
 told Victorine. I have always gone to her with my 
 secrets ever since we were children together, and so 
 it was natural that I should give her my confidence. 
 Do you care that I did ? that she knew it before I 
 told you ? Poor little heart, I should not disturb you 
 
214 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 with this ; but I did hope — I thought — your father 
 thought, that perhaps I could bring you a httle 
 comfort." 
 
 Then Kate turned to him with a sigh and laid her 
 hand in his. *' You do comfort me, Royal. No one 
 else could bring me a gleam of Hght in this dark 
 hour ; no one but you." 
 
 *' And you will let me carry out your father's wish ? 
 I will tell you, my dearest : when he was wounded, 
 and we found how serious it was, we took him to one 
 side, and after a little were able to bear him to a 
 farmhouse near by. His great concern was for you 
 and Sue, and I felt that I ought to tell him of my 
 feeling for you, and that I thought perhaps you might 
 care a little ; and he was pleased. He said he would 
 give you to me if you were willing, and he asked me 
 to come at once and tell you so. He wanted so to 
 see you before he should go, but we knew it would 
 be too late by the time you could reach him, and it 
 seemed to comfort him to have me stay by his side to 
 the last. He wished — he asked that there should 
 be no delay in our right to belong to each other. 
 He asked that I would take you for my wife before 
 we gave him our last farewell." He paused for 
 Kate's answer, but she made none. 
 
 " I would have told you long ago," he went on ; 
 " but sometimes you were so cold and seemed to shun 
 
KATE AND ROYAL 215 
 
 me, and I felt that you did not want to hear what I 
 had to tell. I was afraid you did not care." 
 
 '' I cared always," Kate spoke very quietly now, 
 "but I thought I understood that you were to marry 
 Victorine, and it seemed a natural arrangement — " 
 
 " Victorine ? Why, I never thought of her as a 
 wife; as a saint, an angel, so pure and holy, but — " 
 He shook his head. " As I told you, she has always 
 been my confidante, my counsellor. I have never 
 spoken of love to her, except of my love to you, and 
 she has encouraged me and urged me not to give you 
 up ; she has assured me that I might hope to win 
 you, has given me courage, and confidence, and hope, 
 as a sweet sister might do. She bade me tell you, if 
 ever I did win your love, that if you could consent 
 to make me happy, that she would feel that you con- 
 ferred a happiness upon her, and that it would be for 
 her happiness as well as mine." 
 
 "She said that.?" 
 
 " Yes. You believe it .-^ " 
 
 " I believe you." 
 
 ** And you will not send me away from you ? " 
 
 " No. But can I go to him ? " she asked wistfully. 
 
 "Yes. You must not stay here alone. We will go 
 together. They are expecting us. You will try to 
 sleep to-night. You can be sure that it is I who am 
 watching." 
 
2i6 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 They walked away into the spring night, following 
 a beaten path across fields till a white farmhouse 
 gleamed out of the dim green, and into this they 
 passed, Kate's joy swallowed up in her great grief. 
 
 It was a solemn little company that stood in the 
 presence of death to witness the entering upon a new 
 life of Royal and Kate ; and the clergyman who 
 united the two turned from the marriage service to 
 that for the burial of the dead. Friend and foe alike 
 stood by the grave to do honor to the soldier, Robert 
 Silverthorn. 
 
 It was General Porter himself who offered Royal 
 his hand when giving him his parole, though shaking 
 his head and saying, " I didn't expect to see the son 
 of my friend Walter Reyburn in this plight." Yet he 
 wished him happiness, and told him he was fortunate 
 in winning such a bride. 
 
 It was afternoon of the same day that Royal and 
 Kate, sitting in front of the Silverthorns' house, saw 
 two figures ride up, and descried Victor and Marianne 
 to be the riders. Marianne was off her horse in a 
 twinkling. " Royal is here ! " she cried. " We have 
 been so anxious about him. Why didn't you come 
 and report your safety, you bad child ? " 
 
 Her brother looked at Kate. " I had other things 
 to do." He took Kate's hand in his. '' This is my 
 wife, Marianne. Come and give her a sisterly greeting." 
 
KATE AND ROYAL 217 
 
 Marianne stood stock still in astonishment for a 
 second, then she ran forward and clasped Kate in 
 her arms. " Dear Kate, I am so glad." She held 
 her off at arm's length. " Tell me all about it. I 
 think you were very, very unkind not to ask me to 
 be present, and not to let me know long ago that 
 you meant to marry my brother. But you look so 
 sad. What has happened ? " 
 
 Kate's eyes filled, and Marianne looked at her 
 brother for explanation. " Kate is fatherless," he 
 said, in a low tone. 
 
 Instantly Marianne's arms were again about the girl. 
 " Dear Kate, dear Kate. Ah, how sad ! I see ; that is 
 why you married so quietly. You must let us comfort 
 you, for now you have our father and mother for 
 yours." She paused, for she wondered if this step of 
 Royal's would further estrange his father. '' I came 
 over on purpose to have you go back with me. Sue 
 and mother are both at grandmother's. Sue would 
 have come with me, but I was ready to start off as 
 soon as she arrived, and so we thought it best not to 
 wait. And now that we have Royal safe, it will make 
 the meeting of the family that much more com- 
 plete." 
 
 At this moment Victor, who had been tying the 
 horses, came up, and Marianne pounced upon him, 
 crying: "Victor, what do you think.? They are mar- 
 
2i8 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 ried, these two. Is it not a surprise, and with Sue at 
 the house, is it not fortunate ? " Then she remembered 
 the sad news of which Sue had yet to be told, and 
 she was silent. Royal beckoned Victor aside, and 
 Marianne sat down by Kate to hear all that she had 
 to tell. 
 
 An hour or two later the expectant company at 
 Madame Desvouges's were startled by Marianne's an- 
 nouncement : " Here we are, mother. Royal we have 
 found, and Kate, too ; and what do you think ? It is 
 no more Kate Silverthorn, but Kate Reyburn. She 
 is Royal's wife." 
 
 But Kate had flown to Sue, and was clasped in 
 her sister's arms. " Sue, Sue," sobbed she, ** he is 
 gone from us forever ; our dear father we shall never 
 see more on earth. And, oh, Sue, it is all so sad ! my 
 wedding-day, and such a grief to carry ! " The two 
 sisters did not hear nor heed the consternation which 
 Marianne's announcement had made. 
 
 " Mon Dieu ! " cried Madame Desvouges. " Ungrate- 
 ful boy, do not come here with a wife. A wife, indeed ! 
 And what right have you to take a wife without your 
 parents' consent ? I will not have it. Victorine, where 
 are you .'' Do you hear, Victorine ? The ungrateful has 
 a wife. Ah, I am an old woman to be thus ignored, set 
 aside. He should have consulted me, me; and I w^ould 
 have told him the impossibihty of it. No, no, take her 
 
KATE AND ROYAL 219 
 
 away. I will not welcome her. Where is my daugh- 
 ter .'' Take me to my room." 
 
 Victorine, as pale as a ghost, stepped between the 
 uplifted hands that would seem to drive away Royal. 
 There was the smile of a martyr upon the girl's face 
 as she held out both hands to the young man. " Bring 
 your wife to me, Royal," she said, "that I may wish 
 her the joy she deserves, and that I may share her 
 sorrow. I am glad, glad of your happiness; I have 
 prayed for it night and day." Royal stooped to kiss 
 her, and with a little quivering indrawing of her breath 
 she turned her cheek to him and received his caress 
 silently. Then she sought Kate, sitting with Sue in 
 one corner, and after giving her gentle words of 
 greeting and of sympathy, Victorine slipped from the 
 room, and they saw her no more. 
 
 Marianne followed her mother, who had led the 
 tottering steps of the old lady from the room. " You 
 will be good to Kate, even if grand'mere is not," Mari- 
 anne urged. "Think, mother, her father died but yes- 
 terday ; and what a sad wedding-day for her ! We 
 should not make it more sad. And Royal has long 
 loved her, and you know yourself how dear and lovely 
 a girl she is. If you will give her a loving welcome, 
 it will make both of your children happy after this 
 long parting." And though Mrs. Reyburn's own dis- 
 appointment was great, she had the wisdom to see that 
 
220 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 the fault was neither Royal's nor Kate's, but that it 
 lay within themselves, who had set their hearts upon a 
 thing that could not be brought about. 
 
 So she followed her daughter, Madame Desvouges 
 shrieking after them: "Do not bring her to me. I 
 will not receive her. I will not have her under my roof. 
 I will not come from my room till she leaves the house." 
 
 The shrill voice reached Kate's ears this time, and 
 she turned white and then red, shrinking back when 
 Mrs. Reyburn appeared. 
 
 " You must not mind my mother," said that good 
 woman. " She is old, and cannot understand that 
 these children of mine are grown up and are old 
 enough to decide some matters for themselves. You 
 have had a great sorrow, my daughter, and I hope 
 you believe that you have all our sympathy. I am 
 very glad Royal has not brought us a stranger, but 
 some one whom we already know and love." 
 
 This was very sweet for Kate to hear, but she could 
 not forget those piercing tones, declaring Madame Des- 
 vouges's disappointment. She felt ill at ease while she 
 remained in the house. 
 
 His grandmother's attitude had the effect of antago- 
 nizing Royal, and he strode off to her room, insisting 
 that she should hear him, and declaring that he had 
 never asked any one to receive his wife, and that they 
 were sufficient for each other. 
 
KATE AND ROYAL 221 
 
 "You talk of my defying you, grand'mere, of my 
 disobedience, when you have never forbidden me to 
 marry. It was but the other day you encouraged me 
 to consider it, saying that it was high time I was 
 looking out for a wife. I don't understand this oppo- 
 sition, and I shall not subject my wife to any such 
 treatment. You need not fear that we will remain. 
 Of all times, to treat her unjustly when she has be- 
 come orphaned and has none to look to but to us. I 
 expected more gentleness from my grandmother, who 
 has always treated me so tenderly." 
 
 He did not wait for a reply, but slammed the door 
 after him, and left her in tears. Yet he was some- 
 what mollified by his mother's gentle acceptance of 
 this new daughter, and by Marianne's evident happi- 
 ness in having Kate for a sister. 
 
 " I have always wanted a sister," she told Kate, 
 "and I would choose you above any one." 
 
 " Not above Victorine," Kate added. 
 
 " Well, that is different. I love her dearly, of course, 
 but she is older and does not seem the companion that 
 you do. I must tell Sue that mother wants her to feel 
 that she can return home with us to-morrow, and that 
 she must not leave till she goes to Kentucky with her 
 husband." 
 
 " But she is going home with me," Kate told her. 
 " We will be happier so. She is heart-broken at having 
 
222 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 gone away without a word of farewell to father, and 
 reproaches herself for acting in such haste." 
 
 *' But she has been very happy with Fred." 
 
 " Yes, and father was content that she should have 
 gone. He sent her such loving messages, but all the 
 more she reproaches herself. Royal has tried to 
 comfort her by teUing her that father sent word that 
 she must not fret, for he did not blame her, and that 
 he had never forbidden her to marry. He said he 
 loved her not one bit the less. It was so like father 
 to think of her and not of himself. He had such a 
 great loving heart that he was always readier to excuse 
 than to blame." The tears fell from Kate's eyes, and 
 Marianne put her arms around her. 
 
 " I know," she said. " I know how hard it must 
 be, but he would be glad if he could see you and 
 Sue here together, and could know that each has 
 the love of the man who of all others is dearest to 
 her." 
 
 "Yes," sighed Kate, "that is one comfort; and 
 another is that all of you but your grandmother have 
 been so good to me. I hope some day even Madame 
 Desvouges will be reconciled. It is very hard for old 
 people to give up, and I know she had other plans 
 for Royal." 
 
 "Yes, I know what you mean," Marianne returned, 
 thoughtfully, " but that never could have been. I 
 
KATE AND ROYAL 223 
 
 know it, Kate, and you mustn't let that trouble 
 you." 
 
 That Sue would go back to their old home with 
 her, that Marianne was pleased, that Victorine had 
 welcomed her, and that Mrs. Reyburn had received 
 her as a daughter, was indeed Kate's comfort; and 
 she felt that, sadly as she must always remember 
 her wedding-day, that she could also gather from it 
 memories of much sympathy, consideration, and affec- 
 tion. 
 
 Mr. Reyburn had not appeared ; he was busy with 
 his military duties. Fred had been able to join them, 
 and Kate felt in the face of the displeasure shown 
 upon her account, that she could have a fellow-feeling 
 for her brother-in-law, who, after all, had erred, but 
 because of his love for Sue. He was so brotherly, 
 so sympathetic, so concerned for her, that she could 
 not have the heart to show him ill-will; and when 
 he professed himself glad that Sue wanted to stay 
 with her sister in the old home, Kate lost all feeling 
 of resentment. 
 
 When told of this new exhibition of independence 
 on the part of his son. Captain Reyburn at first made 
 no comment ; then he remarked, " He might have 
 done worse." He had always liked Kate, and the 
 fact that Sue had been for all these months an inmate 
 of his house, increased his feeling of friendliness for 
 
224 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 her sister. He met Kate and Sue on the road one 
 day and stopped them. ''When this war is over I 
 hope we shall see something of each other," he said. 
 " My son has not asked my congratulations upon 
 his new possession, but he has them just the same." 
 He bowed and passed on, and Kate looked at Sue. 
 "Well, what do you think of that .-^ " she asked. 
 
 " I think," said Sue, " that you may be the bond 
 that is needed to unite those two." 
 
 "I hope so," said Kate, fervently. 
 
CHAPTER XV 
 
 Home No More 
 
 THROUGHOUT the summer there were exciting 
 times along the lake country. The affairs of 
 Stony Creek and Beaver Dams were the ones most 
 affecting the inhabitants of the Niagara frontier, while 
 lesser skirmishes and conflicts did not give time for 
 much respite from anxiety. Kate and Sue remained 
 quietly at home. Royal, being still under parole and 
 allowed to remain with them, could be on hand to 
 look after matters requiring a man's attention, while 
 Fred was stationed near by with the troops at Fort 
 George. 
 
 Marianne and her mother had returned to their 
 home across the river, and with Jerusha and Mark 
 managed affairs, but lived in a state of dread and 
 anxiety for the safety of their friends of both sides. 
 Captain Reyburn was constantly on duty, and although 
 after the unfortunate issue of the fight in the Beech- 
 woods the American troops did not make many 
 ventures, there was a feehng of uncertainty and 
 apprehension about, which served to make this a 
 Q 225 
 
226 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 most uncomfortable time. Jerusha, however, was 
 never in better spirits. There was occasion for the 
 display of her best efforts at cheerfulness, and her 
 depression decreased in proportion to the greatness 
 of the reverses reported. 
 
 " I don't believe you care one bit for our success," 
 Marianne complained. " You are so disagreeably 
 cheerful, Jerusha. One would think it was a wedding 
 you were talking about, instead of a battle." 
 
 '*A weddin'," sniffed Jerusha. "I guess I'd be 
 sorry enough to see any poor misguided woman throw 
 herself away on any man, let alone myself. Thank 
 goodness, I'm beyond any hopes or fears of mar- 
 riage." 
 
 " You'd better not be too sure," returned Marianne. 
 "There's Asa Peaslee, if he ever comes back. I 
 heard him say you were 'a fine figger of a woman.' 
 You don't know what may be in store for you." 
 
 "As if I'd look twice at that little weazly-faced 
 crittur," Jerusha scoffed. 
 
 " I'm sure I caught you miaking eyes at him," 
 Marianne continued, bent upon teasing. 
 
 " Me make eyes at that poor little atomy ! I can 
 put my eyes to better use, and my ears, too. I don't 
 give no heed to the maunderin' of that runt of a 
 pedler. I kin tell you a tale worth two of yours. 
 I heard that Mis' Secord acrost the river carried the 
 
HOME NO MORE 227 
 
 word to them Britishers, and they was on the look- 
 out for Colonel Boerstle and his men. She walked 
 through the woods for miles to get FitzGibbons the 
 information. Now, I call that brave, if she is an 
 enemy." 
 
 "Yes, it was brave enough, but plenty of our 
 women were as brave and braver in the Revolution. 
 I'd do the same if I had a chance, and so would 
 you. The reason why they make such a fuss over 
 it, is because it isn't usual for their women to show 
 so much spunk, while ours are always doing such 
 things." Marianne was not disposed to give Mrs. 
 Secord any too much credit. 
 
 ** Mebbe that's so, but 'tain't no good to try to 
 belittle her, if it is so. They've had a bad fight. 
 Your pa wa'n't in it, I'm glad to say." 
 
 " No, he wasn't there, but I don't know about 
 Royal. He expected to be exchanged by this time." 
 
 "What about that boy Jack.? You ain't seen him 
 this good bit.?" 
 
 " No, nor heard of him." 
 
 " He's kind of relation of yourn, now your brother's 
 married his sister. Jack is a good sort of boy, if he 
 is a miserable Britisher." 
 
 Marianne was silent. She had many things to 
 think of these days. She wondered how it would 
 be when the war was over ; how she would settle 
 
228 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 her own life. She thought of Sue and Kate and 
 Victorine and Victor. She was well aware of her 
 grandmother's anxiety to see her the wife of Victor, 
 but she felt that there was quite time enough, be- 
 sides — She gave her head an impatient jerk, and 
 arose from where she had been sitting lost in thought. 
 "Father wants us to go to Uncle Tom's," she an- 
 nounced. ** He said it is farther inland, and we'll be 
 safer there beyond the Genesee, but I don't want to 
 go, and mother says she will not desert her people." 
 
 ''She's right," agreed Jerusha. "I wouldn't go 
 either, if any of my folks was in danger." 
 
 '' Then you think we really are in danger .? " 
 
 "There's no doubt of that at any time. If it 
 ain't the terror that flieth by night, it is the noisome 
 pestilence." 
 
 Even then the danger was, indeed, near. The 
 disturbing summer passed away, and before the close 
 of the year the Americans were ready to withdraw 
 their troops from Fort George. The common occur- 
 rences of war had given the inhabitants in the coun- 
 try around a sad year. Whichever side they might 
 favor, they were, nevertheless, sufferers from foraging 
 parties and from the lawless marauders who demol- 
 ished houses, drove off the cattle, and played havoc 
 generally. 
 
 "There's dreadful goings on at the other side of 
 
HOME NO MORE 229 
 
 the river," said Jerusha, coming in one morning in 
 early December. " I hope I'm a good American, but 
 I must say I don't uphold the ' abomination of deso- 
 lation.' I suppose 'nation must war against nation 
 and kingdom against kingdom.' The Bible says so. 
 ' And there shall be fearful sights, and signs there 
 shall be from heaven,' and I say, ' Let them that are 
 in Judea flee to the mountain.' " 
 
 " What are you talking about, Jerusha ? " Marianne 
 asked, as Jerusha set down a plate of hot cakes upon 
 the table. 
 
 " I'm talkin' about the burning of Newark. I sup- 
 pose you have not heard that they've turned out men, 
 women, and children, the young and the old, into the 
 cold, and have burnt the town. ' Vengeance is mine, 
 I will repay, saith the Lord,' but we'll get it here, 
 I'm afraid. If them Britishers and Injuns is let 
 loose on us, then look out." 
 
 "Oh, dear, dear," said Marianne, setting down her 
 cup of coffee, " you are so alarming, Jerusha. Just 
 fhink of the splendid victories on the lakes and the 
 ocean. Our own Captain Perry, whom father knows 
 so well — just think of that good whipping he gave 
 the British. I like his message, 'We have met 
 the enemy and they are ours.' And think, too, of 
 General Harrison having Maiden and Detroit, and of 
 Tecumseh's being killed, and of all those prisoners 
 
230 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 we have. I think it looks very promising, and I 
 don't see what we need to be afraid of." 
 
 " You wait and see," returned Jerusha. '' There 
 shall be signs from heaven, and the sun set blood 
 red last night, and I dreamed that the stars were 
 blood red too, and descended in a shower upon us. 
 If that ain't a sign, I don't know what is ; and one 
 easy enough to read. The redcoats will descend 
 upon us, and the redskins will follow." 
 
 " Nonsense, Jerusha," Mrs. Reyburn spoke up, 
 sharply, "don't scare the child to death. It is true 
 these are evil days, but the sufferers are our friends 
 across the river, and not ourselves. I pray God my 
 mother and her family are safe." 
 
 '' Fort George is evacuated, I'm told," said Jerusha, 
 "and I suppose that takes Mis' Lyle's husband from 
 her." 
 
 "And if Royal is away at Burlington, where he 
 expected to go, Kate and Sue are all alone. Dear, 
 dear, I hope they will not be harmed." 
 
 " I hope Royal will be allowed to stay. He has 
 friends on his father's side, and has received much 
 consideration from that fact. Then his brother-in-law 
 is in the American army, and has, so far, been able to 
 use his influence ; so it may be that he has not gone." 
 
 " Perhaps the farmhouses have been left, even if 
 they have burned the town," Marianne said hopefully. 
 
HOME NO MORE 231 
 
 Jerusha shook her head. ''There's scarce a farm- 
 house left, they say. I'm surprised Mis' Desvouges 
 has hers, but I guess it's because she has friends to 
 protect it. All I say is that when our hour will 
 come, no man knoweth. I think, Mis' Reyburn, that 
 we'd ought to be goin' somewheres else." 
 
 " It would not be any safer at mother's," she replied. 
 "I think we will stay here for the present, Jerusha, 
 and run our chances with our neighbors." 
 
 It was very cold, and snow had already begun to 
 fall. ''It is pitiful to think of those poor, homeless 
 people turned out at this time of year," said Mari- 
 anne, looking out of the window, about a week 
 later. "Ah, mother dear, I am less light-hearted than 
 I was a year ago, when we had our husking-bee. I 
 had hardly begun to realize then how terrible war 
 can be. I pray you, Jerusha, don't dream of red 
 stars again to-night." 
 
 Whatever Jerusha's dreams might have been, the 
 next morning brought danger to their very doors. 
 The distant noise of firing came to them at day- 
 break. A single cannon shot fired from Fort Niag- 
 ara at five o'clock was a portentous sound. It meant 
 that on, on were coming the vengeful invaders. 
 Down the road to Lewiston they advanced, ransack- 
 ing and burning every house in sight. 
 
 Marianne awakened to a day of terror; for, before 
 
232 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 the inmates of the house had time to reaHze their 
 imminent peril, a yelling, hooting, shrieking horde of 
 Indians were approaching the house, and the British 
 soldiers, scarcely less eager, were bent upon destroy- 
 ing everything in their path. Fort Niagara, with its 
 valuable stores, was taken, the savages were let loose, 
 and death and destruction faced the inhabitants of 
 the quiet villages upon the east shore of the river. 
 
 At the first sight of the enemy, Mrs. Reyburn 
 shrieked to her daughter: ''They come ! The Indians ! 
 Run for your life ! Marianne ! Marianne ! Where 
 are you, Jerusha ? We must escape while we can ! " 
 
 " Must we leave our home to be destroyed ? " cried 
 Marianne, wringing her hands. " Can we save noth- 
 ing, mother .'' " 
 
 "Nothing but our lives; and we'll be lucky if we 
 get off with those," Jerusha told her, grimly. *' I 
 saw Mark legging it up the road as soon as the gun 
 was fired. There's not a minute to be lost, Mary 
 Ann. You've got to come along. Get something 
 warm as quick as you can, and come." 
 
 "Where.?" 
 
 "Don't ask me where," said Jerusha. "Anywhere 
 we can git." 
 
 TrembHng in every limb, Marianne clad herself as 
 warmly as possible in the time given her; and with 
 a hastily prepared bundle of provisions which Jerusha 
 
HOME NO MORE 233 
 
 scrambled together, they set out, runnmg till they 
 were breathless, across fields and over stones and 
 drifts of snow. Suddenly Mrs. Reyburn sUpped and 
 fell, giving a moan of pain when she attempted to 
 rise. " I am afraid I have either twisted my ankle 
 or broken a bone," she said. '' Go on, go on, I pray 
 you ! Don't wait for me, I beg of you ! " 
 
 Jerusha came to a halt, and looked down at the 
 little woman whose face was drawn with pain. Mari- 
 anne was down on her knees in an instant. " Leave 
 you, dearest mother.'' Not while I live. If we must 
 die, we will die together." 
 
 " Go on, go on ! " begged Mrs. Reyburn. *' My 
 child, my child, I cannot see you die ! " 
 
 Jerusha's gaunt form straightened itself up. " I 
 guess I kin lug you," she said briefly. And picking 
 Mrs. Reyburn up in her arms, she strode on, Mari- 
 anne by her side. Mrs. Reyburn 's face was bravely 
 set, and she begged them to leave her, for they were 
 now not able to make very good speed, and a run- 
 ning, leaping, howling band of Indians gained upon 
 them at every step. These were followed closely by 
 a company of soldiers. 
 
 The house had already been looted, and the torch 
 appHed : it was now bursting into flames, and in the 
 red firelight the howling savages danced and yelled. 
 Nearer and nearer came the pursuers. Now they 
 
234 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 could see the painted faces, now the gleam of the 
 tomahawks. 
 
 But not so fast did they run but the men behind 
 kept up with them ; and they had scarce touched 
 their victims, before a young soldier made a great 
 leap, and placed himself in front of the fugitives. 
 " Stop ! " he cried. " Not a hair of their heads shall 
 be hurt ! Come, boys, help me to protect these 
 ladies ; they are friends." 
 
 The sudden halt gave the white men time to rally 
 to the side of the young man, who valiantly stood his 
 ground. But the cold hand of an Indian had already 
 clutched Marianne's brown locks, and she had been 
 dragged some distance off, where she lay face down, 
 momentarily expecting that the death-blow would be 
 given her. Indeed, the keen-bladed knife was already 
 uplifted to do its frightful work, when it was sent 
 spinning into the snow, and, with a savage grunt, the 
 Indian sprang to recover it. Fear and horror had 
 already sent Marianne into a state of blessed oblivion ; 
 and she was scarcely conscious, when, seeing the dan- 
 ger they would both be in from the enraged savage, 
 frustrated in his bloody design, the young soldier 
 seized the girl in his arms, and ran with all his speed 
 away from the spot. Seeing his design, his friends 
 fell upon the Indian and secured him. 
 
 Jerusha, with determined front, faced the soldiers. 
 
HOME NO MORE 235' 
 
 Mrs. Reyburn weakly begged to be put down. '' Let 
 them kill me, Jerusha," she whispered, " and you may 
 still be able to escape." 
 
 Jerusha gave a sardonic laugh. " I'd look pretty 
 trying to escape," she said. *' I kin jump pretty 
 high, but I guess I couldn't clear the heads of twenty 
 men." 
 
 At the sound of her voice there was a movement 
 in the company, and a man stepped wonderingly 
 forward. "Jerushe!" he exclaimed, "it is thou!" 
 
 Jerusha almost dropped her burden in her surprise. 
 " I guess it is me, Jooly Fooshay," she repHed. 
 
 "You have, then, not forgot me. Gentlemen, I 
 present my wife." 
 
 Jerusha stood imperturbably staring at the laughing 
 soldiers, who thought this a good joke. 
 
 " I have ze plaisir to save thy life, my Jerushe," 
 said the man, smiling. 
 
 " I guess I'm not under such special obligation 
 for that," returned Jerusha. " I don't know as I'm 
 particular about it, if I've got to pass the rest of it 
 with you." 
 
 Her sharp repartee entertained the listeners, and 
 they began to applaud her and to jeer at their com- 
 rade, who took it all good-naturedly, saying : " All 
 same, it is ze wife of me ; I am lose her zis long 
 time. I am now ask you to accompany us to ze 
 
236 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 garrison. See you, my friends, to ze lady she has 
 in charge. I myself will accompany my wife." Two 
 soldiers volunteered to carry Mrs. Reyburn, and 
 Jerusha stalked silently along by the side of her 
 newly found husband. Finding themselves deprived 
 of any trophies in this direction, the Indians took 
 another way, and the little company proceeded to the 
 fort. 
 
 Marianne, meanwhile, was very quickly borne along 
 in a pair of stalwart arms. She was conscious of the 
 fact that her life had been spared, but to what pur- 
 pose she felt dimly uncertain. The soldier held her 
 as he would a baby, and she lay with closed eyes, 
 feeling helplessly indignant as she grew to a better 
 consciousness of her plight. It was useless to resist. 
 Any effort to struggle might bring worse trouble 
 upon her, and she concluded to lie quietly. She 
 could only pray that her mother and Jerusha had 
 been saved, and that she might be allowed to plead 
 for her own life. 
 
 The smoke of the burning of her home came to 
 her nostrils, and she lifted her head to see what was 
 to fill her with distress, and yet which was to possess 
 her with a strange fascination. " Don't look, Marianne," 
 said her rescuer, tenderly. " I thought you had fainted, 
 poor little girl." And Marianne for the first time was 
 aware who it was who held her. 
 
HOME NO MORE 237 
 
 "Jack," she said faintly. "Oh, Jack." The reHef 
 was so great that she began to sob, great tearless, 
 heart-breaking gasps. 
 
 " Poor little girl, dear little Marianne," said Jack. 
 "You are safe; don't do so." 
 
 "I — I — can't help it," she gasped. 
 
 "Well, if it does you any good, cry all you please. 
 I am glad you can. I think we are safe now. We 
 are coming to the woods, and I will put you down." 
 He set her gently on the ground as he would a child. 
 He was evidently much unstrung himself and stood 
 for a minute looking at the trembUng little figure. 
 
 Marianne gradually recovered herself. " You have 
 saved my life," she said. " Oh, Jack, to think in 
 God's mercy it should have been you. I am thankful. 
 I have not words to say how thankful." 
 
 Jack's voice shook as he replied : " So am I. My 
 God, Marianne, when I think of that moment when 
 I saw you in the hands of that horrible painted sav- 
 age and feared I was too late — I feel I cannot say 
 how thankful that I determined to follow the party. 
 I had a deadly fear that you might not have been 
 warned, and I was determined to save you if I could. 
 I have little taste for such horrors as we have wit- 
 nessed this morning. I want you to believe that I 
 did not come out to distress innocent women and 
 children." 
 
238 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 ** I know that," said Marianne, simply. '' But mother 
 and Jerusha? Did you see? Do you think they are 
 safe ? " 
 
 " They are, I feel sure. There were enough of my 
 friends to see to it that they were freed. But it is 
 too cold for you to stand here. Shall I carry you 
 again, or would you rather walk.? I think there 
 must be a shelter somewhere." 
 
 "There is a little cabin two or three miles away in 
 the woods; it is very lonely there, and no one would 
 be likely to find it, unless he knew just where to look 
 for it. Some people live there, a hunter and his 
 wife. Unless the place has been discovered and 
 burned, I think they will take me in. It is in that 
 direction," she indicated by a wave of the hand. '' It 
 is in such a lonely spot that I hope it has been 
 overlooked." 
 
 "I think it more than probable. Shall we go.? I 
 think it might be better than if you were to try to 
 get to the garrison, for we may come across another 
 band of Indians; and one man against a number, 
 especially when they are on the war-path, has not 
 much chance, even though he be a friend. They 
 might not hurt me, but would perhaps harm you." 
 
 Marianne shuddered and turned so pale that Jack 
 hastened to reassure her that she was safe. ''You 
 have nothing on your head, and it is so cold." He 
 
HOME NO MORE 239 
 
 drew a handkerchief from his pocket and tied it 
 under her chin. The sight of her pale face and fear- 
 stricken eyes nearly unnerved him, but he strove to 
 distract her thoughts by harking back to the days 
 of their first acquaintance, and they managed to keep 
 up a desultory talk upon indifferent subjects until at 
 last the little cabin was discerned ; but upon reach- 
 ing it they found it deserted. The family had 
 taken alarm and had fled with so many of their 
 neighbors that long processions were formed upon the 
 roads west of the Genesee. 
 
 In spite of the empty house Jack's cheerfulness 
 and his quality of making the best of things asserted 
 themselves. " It's much better than being out of 
 doors," he said. *' I will make a fire and see if they 
 have left us anything to eat. After that we will find 
 out what is to be done next." 
 
 The place was neat and clean, and the family in 
 their flight had taken only their clothing and their 
 most necessary articles, so these later comers found 
 sufficient for their needs. A cracked cup, an iron 
 skillet, a pewter spoon, and a few such things stood 
 upon a shelf in the cupboard depleted of all provi- 
 sions but a little meal. Jack, however, found a sack 
 of potatoes in a bin at the back of the kitchen, and 
 some grain in the small stable. He brought a hand- 
 ful of the potatoes back with him after he had made 
 
240 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 his tour of investigation, and exhibited them in 
 triumph. He built a rousing fire on the hearth, and 
 they roasted the potatoes in the ashes, becoming 
 quite cheerful in the warmth and comfort. 
 
 *' If we only had some hot coffee, we would be 
 faring very well," said Jack, as he tried one of the 
 potatoes to see if it were done. 
 
 Marianne looked thoughtfully into the fire. '' Didn't 
 you say there was some rye in the stable ? " she asked. 
 
 "Yes, I think there is a very little." 
 
 " Then if you will bring me some, we can brown 
 it and pound it up and make a very good sort of 
 drink ; that is, if you are not too hungry to wait for it. 
 There is some maple sugar in the cupboard ; I found 
 it in a crock, but we haven't milk." 
 
 ''Who cares for milk.? I'll get the rye." It took 
 some time to prepare their rye coffee; but with this 
 addition to their meal they felt themselves well served, 
 and were fairly merry over their breakfast. 
 
 The warm food and drink brought a little color 
 into Marianne's cheeks, though she was still very 
 nervous and started at the slightest sound, sometimes 
 finding it impossible to keep back the tears. Once 
 she gave way entirely and put her head down on the 
 table, sobbing so hopelessly that it was too much 
 for Jack. He came over and knelt by her side, tak- 
 ing her hands in his: — 
 
HOME NO MORE 241 
 
 " Marianne, Marianne, don't cry so, little girl ! 
 You are safe here ; and as soon as we can go, I will 
 take you over to your grandmother. I will not 
 leave you a minute alone. You know I would shed 
 my last drop of blood for you. What do other 
 men do who see those they love massacred before 
 their very eyes } When I think of your being spared 
 such a horrible fate, I think only of being glad." 
 
 " Don't Jack, don't. You have saved my life," 
 the words came haltingly, ''but don't talk so." 
 
 " I'm a wretch," he cried, springing to his feet. 
 " I'm a pretty soldier to allow myself to get unstrung, 
 but the sight of your tears was too much for me. I 
 ought to have known better than to distress you. 
 Come, we won't talk about it any more. The thing 
 to do is to decide what is to be done next." 
 
CHAPTER XVI 
 
 JcrusJia to the Rescue 
 
 IT was something of a puzzle to Jack to know the 
 best step to take next. The country on one side 
 the river had been laid waste by the Americans, and 
 up and down the other side was at this moment rag- 
 ing a relentless band of soldiers with their savage 
 alHes bent upon destruction and pillage. Jack did not 
 feel at all sure that Madame Desvouges still occupied 
 her house, and to attempt to go across to it just now 
 was not a wise venture. 
 
 It seemed safer there in the little cabin, isolated as 
 it was in the woods, and far from the beaten road ; and 
 if Marianne could but have her mother or some older 
 woman with her, it would be best for her to remain in 
 this retreat till matters became quieter. The girl was 
 too weak and ill from the shock of the morning to ven- 
 ture forth that day, and he could not leave her to get 
 aid. He felt that he ought to report at the proper 
 time for duty, yet to leave Marianne was not to be 
 thought of. It must be said that the scenes of the 
 morning were not such as gave him much taste for 
 
 242 
 
JERUSHA TO THE RESCUE 243 
 
 further proceedings of like character, and he was quite 
 content to remain where he was, if turning women and 
 children out of their homes was the order of the day. 
 
 *' If you would rather go on, Marianne," he said, 
 when the confronting question became one which must 
 be met, 'Sve will go, but I don't believe you are able 
 to walk far. I can carry you, to be sure." 
 
 ''Where?" she asked helplessly. It was very un- 
 like the alert, independent Marianne to reply so utterly 
 upon another's lead. 
 
 '' To the garrison. I am sure there must be a num- 
 ber there under our protection." 
 
 "Those whose houses you have burned over their 
 heads, you mean ? " 
 
 " Yes ; but I did not have a hand in it. You don't 
 believe that of me, Marianne ? I am wilhng to fight 
 for my side, but I am not a robber." 
 
 Marianne subsided after her flash of anger. " Is it 
 far .'' " she asked, after a little while. 
 
 " It is not very near." 
 
 The girl arose and looked out on the winter land- 
 scape. The yard and outbuildings of this woodland 
 hut occupied but a small space of the great forest 
 around them. The naked branches of a multitude of 
 trees, clumps of white fringed pines, silence, and an 
 untrodden waste alone seemed there. All Marianne's 
 terror returned to her. She sank down weakly upon 
 
244 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 the bench by the small window. " I cannot, I can- 
 not," she wailed. " Go and leave me here." 
 
 " Alone ? Never. I am going now outside to gather 
 in some wood, and to set a trap to snare a rabbit for 
 our next meal. We won't starve, anyway." He smiled 
 confidently. '' I shall not go out of sight. You don't 
 mind if I leave you } You can watch me from the 
 window." 
 
 This quick understanding of her fear of being left 
 alone was a relief to the girl, and she smiled faintly. 
 " I am very silly," she said. 
 
 ** No, you have had enough of a shock to shatter 
 the nerves of a stronger woman," he made reply. He 
 longed to take her in his arms and convince her of the 
 greatness of his love and sympathy, of his desire to 
 protect her; but he could only nod and smile reassur- 
 ingly as he went out. From time to time he looked 
 back to see the little pale face at the window, with 
 eyes upon him. He had loved her in a fitful boyish 
 way before, but now all his manhood's best was roused, 
 and to the woman within, in that hour he consecrated 
 the love of his life. " I may never win her," he told 
 himself. "After this terrible experience how could 
 she ever love one of her country's enemies, but I will 
 serve her as the knights of old served their chosen 
 ladies." They had talked of his father, of Royal and 
 Kate, of all the things which had befallen them both 
 
JERUSHA TO THE RESCUE 245 
 
 since they last met; and to Jack, Marianne had never 
 seemed so near; but for the one great barrier he felt 
 that he might not despair of one day winning from 
 her something more than tolerance. A great wave of 
 love and devotion swept over him, and he turned to 
 wave a hand to the girl watching him. If that were 
 his wife at the window and that were their little home 
 in the wilderness, how gladly would he give the labor 
 of each day to her happiness. 
 
 He was roused from these thoughts by the sound 
 of voices coming up the path ahead. He stopped with 
 a pile of wood upon his shoulder and Hstened. Were 
 they friends or enemies ? Who could they be who 
 knew the way to this lonely spot ? Presently he 
 caught sight of two figures ; a man and a woman were 
 nearing the cabin. The young man placed himself 
 back of the path, that he might watch them unobserved. 
 Were they the owners of the place, or were they some 
 of those fugitives whom the morning had driven forth. 
 In another instant he was aware that the man wore 
 the uniform of a Canadian volunteer, and that the 
 woman, tall and gaunt, was striding along as if she 
 knew her ground. 
 
 *'I tell you," the sharp high voice said, *' I guess 
 we're right. They ain't no other tracks, and I see him 
 make for the woods with her. They ain't no other 
 habitation in two or three miles, and I cal'late we'll 
 
246 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 find 'em just about here. My land, Jooly Fooshay, 
 you needn't try to learn me wood ways; I guess I 
 was brought up in the heart of Maine, and I was 
 around long enough before I see you to know a thing 
 or two. I say Lm right." 
 
 Jack strode forward into the middle of the path. 
 ''Jerusha!" he cried. "My old friend Jerusha, you 
 couldn't be more welcome if you were an angel from 
 heaven." 
 
 Jerusha came to a halt. " Well, suz ! " she exclaimed. 
 '* If I'd knowed who it was makin' off with Mary Ann, 
 I dunno as I'd been in such a feeze to git here. She's 
 alive and kickin' I guess, or you wouldn't be so smilin'." 
 
 " She's safe, but dreadfully shaken, poor little girl, 
 and so weak and nervous. But no wonder. It was 
 God's providence that I was in time to save her." 
 
 " It was nip and tuck with us all," returned Jerusha. 
 " This is my husband. I dunno's I've any call to be 
 proud of the fact, but such as he is, he's mine. Jooly 
 Fooshay is his name." 
 
 '' Why, Jules ! I know him. He is in my regiment. 
 Why didn't he tell you who it was that was running 
 off with your Marianne ? " 
 
 "I didn't ask him; more fool I." 
 
 ''Well, he is a lucky fellow to have you for a wife, 
 no matter what." 
 
 "The luck's all on his side, then," returned Jerusha. 
 
JERUSHA TO THE RESCUE 247 
 
 " My Jerushe ! You to say so, when I am save the 
 life of you." 
 
 " You may be my death yet," she retorted grimly. 
 
 But now Marianne saw them coming, and she was 
 at the door to meet them. Whose but Jerusha's 
 could be that tall lank figure ? All in a turmoil of 
 tears and exclamations, she fell into the good woman's 
 arms. *' Oh, Jerusha, Jerusha ! I am so thankful, so 
 glad to see you alive. Tell me quick, my mother, 
 my mother, is she safe ? " 
 
 "Yes, yes, child. There, don't take on so. She's 
 at the garrison. The doctor says she's broke a small 
 bone, but he has set it, and she'd be all right only 
 she is near crazy about you. If we had been sen- 
 sible enough to ask who 'twas that was lugging you 
 off, we might have been easier in our minds." 
 
 " Tell me what happened. I forget all but that 
 terrible moment when the Indian had me in his 
 grasp. I cannot get rid of that memory, try as I 
 will." 
 
 " Well, the most surprising thing that happened to 
 me was the coming acrost my husband, that I ain't 
 seen this fifteen year. He declares that he didn't run 
 off with another woman, and that he was hurt up 
 there in a lumber camp ; but law suz, you can't 
 tell when to believe him, and I don't know any more 
 than I did before. I was well rid of him, in any 
 
248 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 case, for he never could do much but fiddle and sing. 
 Work wasn't his strong pint; and though I've heerd 
 tell of folks that fiddled for their bread and butter, I 
 ain't never seen one. Anyways we come acrost each 
 other, and here we are. Jooly Fooshay is his name, 
 and one that will never bring him much luck. Come 
 here, Jooly." 
 
 The curly-headed little man with the bright twin- 
 kling eyes approached and bowed low. " Jules Fouchet, 
 at your sairvice, mademoiselle," he said; and when 
 Marianne answered in French his eyes twinkled more 
 than ever, and he bowed again very low. 
 
 "Come in, come in all of you," said Jack. 
 
 *'Yes, we have a good fire, and we can give you 
 something to eat. Jack has been very good to me, 
 Jerusha, and we have not starved. I can give you 
 potatoes and porridge and rye coffee. Are you cold ? 
 Are you hungry.''" 
 
 "A little of both," Jerusha replied. "But I guess 
 the first thing to do is to get back word to your mother 
 that you are safe, and she needn't put on mourning 
 for you yet." 
 
 " Shall I go at once ? Would you rather have 
 me .'' " Jack asked eagerly. 
 
 " I ? Oh — yes — no — that is — Will it be best 
 that Jack go, Jerusha ? " 
 
 Jerusha looked into the fire thoughtfully, pinching 
 
JERUSHA TO THE RESCUE 249 
 
 her chin the while. " I guess it depends upon who'd 
 be the best fighter if we happened to need him," she 
 returned. " This here man of mine — Sakes ! I never 
 expected to call a British soldier my man, and I ain't 
 so proud of it now. Well, as I was a-saying, so far 
 as my judgment goes, he'd as lief crawl under the 
 bed as to stand up and defend us." 
 
 "Ah, but Jerushe," broke in Jules, "you have for- 
 got that but to-day I r-rescue you from the hand of 
 the savage." 
 
 "You git out! Ain't I set by myself night after 
 night alone, with the wolves howling outside the 
 house, and you miles away with your boon companions 
 in a tavern ? I guess you'd better go, for you'll not 
 stop till you reach the garrison, I well know ; and so 
 far as I'm consarned, you needn't come back." 
 
 Jules shrugged his shoulders. " She has the tongue 
 of sharpness, but the heart is not so like steel as she 
 would pretend," he said in an aside to Jack. " If you 
 will have it so, Jerushe, I will go and I will return. 
 Prepare your message that I may be off, else the 
 wolf is surely possess himself of me." He laughed 
 good-naturedly. 
 
 "But you must have something to eat first," Mari- 
 anne insisted. 
 
 Both she and Jack perceived that the little man had 
 a real affection for Jerusha, and that he was rejoiced 
 
250 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 to find her again, while she, despite her words to the 
 contrary, was not so ill-pleased to have met her 
 husband. 
 
 *' All you've got to do," said Jerusha, " is to tell 
 Mis' Reyburn where we are, and that Lm going to 
 stay by Mary Ann till Lm able to fetch her home. 
 Tell her we've got full and plenty to eat; there's a 
 bag of nice good potatoes in the kitchen, and meal, 
 too. You can say the child is well, which ain't a lie, 
 so far as I know. Now, if this young gentleman has 
 any word to send, let him give it to you and you can 
 be off. You won't git ketched by nawthin' wuss'n 
 your own kind, I guess ; and if you don't take in 
 seven other sperits wuss'n yourself, I haven't no 
 doubts but what you'll git there alive. Now hurry 
 up and eat them wittles and be off." 
 
 He did not delay in making away with the food 
 set before him, and then made ready to depart. '' But 
 not without one kees, Jerushe," he said. 
 
 " Go 'long, you've no time for foolishness," de- 
 clared Jerusha, giving him a gentle push with her 
 elbow, and looking at Marianne in a funny embar- 
 rassed way. But she followed Jules to the door, and 
 he departed with the note Jack had prepared for him 
 to give his captain. " Now then," said Jerusha, when 
 she had watched him out of sight, " nobody can tell 
 when they'll see him agin. He is as onsartin as old 
 
JERUSHA TO THE RESCUE 251 
 
 Sancho. He's soft as dough, and as easy going and 
 ready to be led as a blind boss ; but I guess he'll give 
 the message all right, whatever happens to him after. 
 I felt as if you'd be better cal'lated to look after us 
 if anything happened, Mr. Jack, and I hope you don't 
 mind staying." 
 
 " Mind ! " Jack was glad enough of the opportunity 
 which made it his duty to remain and watch over 
 these two, dependent upon him alone for protection 
 there in the lonely woods. He knew that his re- 
 port of himself would satisfy his superior officer, and 
 with the wolves howling outside, and the predatory 
 Indians, more to be feared than the wild beasts, roam- 
 ing the forest, they shut themselves in that night. 
 Sitting around the fire they talked quietly; Jerusha's 
 spirits, as usual, rose in proportion to the gravity of 
 the situation, but Marianne's heart was very full. Her 
 mother ill and needing her ; her father retreating be- 
 fore an angry foe ; Royal and Kate separated from 
 her by more than miles of distance ; her own home in 
 ashes, and her grandmother's perhaps also in ruins — 
 all these things so weighed upon her spirits that she 
 sat hearing only half the things which Jack and Je- 
 rusha said. 
 
 " The' ain't no use kicking agen the pricks," Jerusha 
 told her. '' The Lord's delivered you out of the hand 
 of the Philistine, and has set your feet upon a safe 
 
252 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 place. You've passed through deep waters, but the 
 Lord's 'stabUshed your goings, Mary Ann, and you've 
 no cause to complain. You've been a pretty light- 
 hearted crittur, but you may be permitted to win your 
 crown through tribulation." 
 
 ** There, Jerusha, there," put in Jack, "don't make 
 her think she must suffer any more." 
 
 " I ain't said so. I dunno's she ain't had her own 
 passel young. We all have to git it ; some gits it old, 
 and some young. I guess mebbe it's best to git it 
 young, and be over with it. Land alive, child, you 
 needn't cry now. You're safe and sound and shel- 
 tered and shod." 
 
 But Marianne's tears would not be stayed, and she 
 wept so forlornly that Jerusha's tenderness, rarely 
 shown, was stirred. 
 
 ''Poor little lamb," she said, ''I guess I know just 
 how you feel; just as if you'd like to be little and curl 
 up in your mother's lap, and git rocked and sung to. 
 My old bones ain't very soft, but there, you come and 
 let me hold you." She drew the girl into her lap, and 
 to the sound of a creaking old chair and the singing of 
 a tea-kettle swung over the sizzling logs, Marianne 
 rested. 
 
 Jack sat and watched the two. How pitifully small 
 and helpless the girl looked with her eyes closed, the 
 long lashes brushing the pale cheek. What a plaintive 
 
JERUSHA TO THE RESCUE 253 
 
 droop to the sweet mouth, and how her slim fingers 
 curled themselves around Jerusha's bony ones, as if 
 they found comfort in the human clasp. All the ter- 
 rible consequences of war arose before him. How 
 lightly he had entered the army, and how little he an- 
 ticipated the horrors of his experience. And this was 
 not the end. He felt as if he must take the little fig- 
 ure lying there in Jerusha's arms, and fly away with 
 her to some safe spot where the clamors of war would 
 never be heard. He sat moodily looking into the fire 
 before he spoke his thought. " To-morrow I will find 
 out if Madame Desvouges's house is still untouched. 
 It will seem more like home to Marianne than any 
 other place." 
 
 ''If you think the child is going to be ready to take 
 a journey to-morrow, you are mistaken," Jersusha told 
 him. " She's had about as much travelling as she can 
 stand for a while. I guess she'd better stay right here, 
 as long as it's safe." 
 
 True enough, Jerusha knew what she was talking 
 about, for the next day saw Marianne in a raging fever, 
 murmuring incoherent words, and crying out wildly as 
 she tossed on her hard bed. " Poor lamb ! Poor 
 lamb ! " said Jerusha, shaking her head ; " mebbe it's 
 just as well that she should be taken, and be spared 
 any more trials. The Lord knows what's before her, 
 and it's only when we've drunk the cup to the dregs 
 
254 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 that we begin to think that death ain't our worst 
 portion." 
 
 "We must save her; we must," said Jack, fiercely. 
 " Don't you dare let yourself believe for one moment 
 that she is going to die." 
 
 " Look here, young man, it ain't you or me that's 
 got anything to say about it. I'll do my best, I guess 
 you know that, and you will do your best; but if she's 
 going to be snatched from this vale of tears, we poor 
 worms ain't powerful to prevent it." Her face softened 
 as she saw Jack's distress. "Poor boy," she went on, 
 " it goes hard with you, but, then, it's all a snarl at best. 
 You just go along there to the garrison, and get me 
 some medicine, and with the doctoring I'm able to give 
 her, she'll pull through if it's the Lord's will. She's 
 got youth and a good constitution on her side. You 
 needn't be afraid of leaving me for a few hours. I'm 
 not a mite scared. It's best to give the boy something 
 to do," she said to herself, as he strode off. " He can't 
 do no good moping around here." 
 
 She went in and bent over Marianne, putting a fin- 
 ger on the quickly beating pulse. " She's a pretty sick 
 child," said Jerusha, her face working. " Poor little 
 lamb, I've nursed you 'most from a baby, and I guess 
 you won't die from want of attention." 
 
CHAPTER XVII 
 
 Asa A milt 
 
 'e>' 
 
 THE spring had fairly begun to show signs of 
 its coming, when Marianne was at last able to 
 creep out into the sunshine and face the world again. 
 But that she viewed it with the eyes of buoyant 
 youth, it would have seemed a very sad world. She 
 had heard nothing of her parents except mere rumors. 
 Jack had been ordered away, and Jules too. An old 
 Indian woman was Jerusha's only helper through the 
 long winter's siege, but both women were accustomed 
 to a hardy life and knew how to make the forest 
 yield them the necessities for existence, and they had 
 fared better than might be imagined. Little news 
 of the outside world reached them in their quiet 
 retreat, and Marianne, ready once more to take an in- 
 terest in affairs, began to question. She could gather 
 but scant news. The British were still in possession 
 of Fort Niagara; the country on both sides the river 
 was almost a desolation, most famihes having fled 
 beyond the Genesee. 
 
 25s 
 
256 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 " But where are they all, mother and father and 
 Royal ? And grandmother, is she still in her home ? 
 Is it burned, too ? And what has become of Sue 
 and Kate ? " These questions came crowding to 
 Marianne's lips. 
 
 " Now look here, Mary Ann," said Jerusha, " do 
 you think I've had nawthin' better to do than to set 
 down and write letters and go gadding over the 
 country a-hunting up your relations ? Land sakes, 
 child, it's been as much as I could do to haul you 
 back from the Valley of the Shadder, without trying 
 to edit a bulletin of war news." 
 
 ".Well, tell me what you know," said Marianne, 
 with the fretfulness of an invalid. 
 
 Jerusha sat down and planted her big veined hands 
 upon her knees. ** Mebbe you remember we sent 
 word to your mother by Jooly. When he got back 
 to the garrison, she'd gone. Some folks had told her 
 she could git to your father by going with them, and 
 she needed doctoring, and they promised to see 
 that she got to her kin-folks in Geneva. Then 
 somehow it got reported that I had gone off with 
 Jooly to Canady agin, because I had found out that 
 you was dead and couldn't bear to tell her. I don't 
 know what fool started the story, but seeing me and 
 him making off together to hunt you up, I suppose 
 it got out that way." 
 
ASA AGAIN ^57 
 
 *' Oh, poor mother, poor mother!" Marianne cried. 
 " Does she know now ? " 
 
 "I dunno as she does, and then I dunno as she 
 doesn't. I made a fist of writing to her, and told her 
 to stay where she was if she was comfortable ; that 
 we was safe and well enough off for the present. 
 I didn't feel I'd ought to write till you was out of 
 danger, for if she believed you wasn't counted among 
 the living 'twa'n't no use to undeceive her till we 
 was certain about you. I got an. Injun to git the 
 letter through the lines. I didn't rightly know her 
 directions, but I hope she got the letter. You'd been 
 sick about a week, I guess, when young Jack Silver- 
 thorn was ordered away. He'd done the best he 
 could to make us comfortable by gitting medicine 
 and flour and what stuff he could, and it was him 
 got old Acsah to stay with me. While he was here, 
 I'll say it for both him and Jooly, they kept me in 
 wittles and fire-wood. After they went I had to make 
 the best of it, but the old squaw has been a human 
 being to speak to, and she ain't so helpless. 
 
 " We made the best of it, as I said ; and what with 
 keeping bags of ice on your head and finding kivers 
 warm enough for you and us, and food enough to 
 keep body and soul together, we had about all we 
 could do for three months. But there! we've had a 
 shelter, and the woods is full of game of all kinds. 
 
258 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 so we did manage to git enough, though some days 
 it was slim pickings. We sewed the skins together 
 for kivers, — the old Injun is a master hand at that, — 
 and she got a few blankets from her people, so we 
 ain't neither friz nor starved. Howsomever it's all 
 over now, and we'll move along pretty soon, I guess, 
 though I dunno jest where; they say they ain't 
 skeerce a house left standing." She nursed her 
 knees thoughtfully. 
 
 " They say it was for revenge because the Ameri- 
 cans burnt Newark; pretty heavy revenge to destroy 
 six villages, not to mention dozens of farmhouses, and 
 wuss than all, to murder scores of innocent people. 
 Somebody's got to pay a heavy debt when he goes 
 to meet his jedgment. I told Jooly I didn't know 
 as I wanted he should come near me agin if he 
 come as an inimy of my country, but I dunno's he 
 would come anyway. But there, I've talked my 
 throat dry. It's summer instid of winter coming, 
 and all you've got to do, Mary Ann, is to set still 
 and git well." 
 
 There was nothing but hope to keep up Marianne's 
 spirits. It was dreary work to spend her time sitting 
 alone in the woods with never a visitor but an in- 
 quisitive squirrel or a bird tamer than his neighbors ; 
 yet Marianne day by day grew stronger, though with 
 her strength came a deeper longing to get to her 
 
i^ 
 
 V- t- 
 
 She had disco7\n-cd a coDtforlably hoIlo7ccd scat " 
 
ASA AGAIN 259 
 
 friends. She was sitting one day under a huge tree, 
 among whose roots she had discovered a comfortably 
 hollowed seat, when she saw coming up the check- 
 ered path a man whose destination seemed to be the 
 cabin. He was short and spare of figure, with griz- 
 zled beard standing well out from under his chin. 
 As soon as Marianne caught sight of him, she sprang 
 to her feet with less listlessness than she had shown 
 for months. ''Asa!" she cried; "Asa Peaslee ! " 
 
 *' Wal, I vum ! " exclaimed the pedler, stopping 
 short as he caught sight of the girl. '' I wouldn't 
 skeerce hev knowed you, yer that pindlin' ; 'most 
 starved, air ye .'^ " 
 
 " No ; but I have been ill. I am so glad to see 
 you. How did you find us ? " 
 
 '' Who ye got in there ? " asked the pedler, peer- 
 ing suspiciously at the cabin. 
 
 ''Only Jerusha and an old Indian woman." 
 
 *' I didn't find ye; I jest stumbled on ye. I seen 
 smoke, and thinks I, where there's smoke there's fire, 
 and I trotted in this direction. I ain't takin' a very 
 direct route, seein' as me and the Britishers ain't on 
 the best of terms. Where's your folks ? " 
 
 " I don't know. I haven't heard from them in three 
 or four months." And she proceeded to tell her 
 pitiful tale. 
 
 " I vum ! " repeated Asa. " Wal, pop's prisoner up 
 
26o A LOYAL LASS 
 
 to Quebec, I guess, and if the ijits that has the ex^ 
 changes in hand don't git 'em fixed some day soon, 
 he'll stay there awhile, but I hear they treat 'em pretty 
 good up there Young Lyle's all right; I see him 
 a couple of weeks ago, said his wife was in Geneva. 
 As for the rest of the crew, I dunno as I keer to run 
 up agen 'em, seein' as me and them don't pull the 
 same direction. Ain't heerd nawthin' of your granny 
 and them, hev ye ? " 
 
 " No, and I wish I could. Ah, but I do so long 
 to reach them. I don't know whether their house has 
 been destroyed or not." 
 
 Asa picked up a bit of a twig and chewed the end 
 of it thoughtfully. "Wouldn't keer to hev me go 
 out and find out, I s'pose. I'm achin' to do it; ye 
 know my curiosity'll kill me yit. I'd like nawthin' 
 better than to slip over and find out how the land 
 lays." 
 
 '' Oh, would you ^ Could you without danger ? " 
 
 " We ain't talkin' about danger ; we're talkin' about 
 findin' out what's goin' on acrost the river. I guess 
 I'll sneak over. I'll begin hitchin' along to-night. 
 You're right snug here. Nobody'd ever think of 
 lookin for a house in these here woods." 
 
 *' It has been a good shelter ; we had to take 
 possession of it. Some day I hope we shall be able to 
 tell the owners what a godsend it has been to us." 
 
ASA AGAIN 261 
 
 " You do look pindlin'," Asa repeated. " I guess the 
 sooner ye git to grandma's the better. Now I'll go 
 along and speak to Jerushy. I'll set round and chat 
 with ye all till towards night, and then I must be 
 gittin' on." 
 
 *' You are always on hand in time of need," Marianne 
 told him. 
 
 "Wal, no, I can't say jest that, or I'd been here 
 sooner. It jest seems to be a time of need when I 
 do happen along. They ain't much noos stirrin' ; 
 some little skirmishes at sea ; it's got to be a game of 
 give and take." 
 
 " I thought you were going to join the marines, Asa." 
 
 "Who says I didn't.?" 
 
 "Did you really.?" 
 
 Asa nodded. " J'int 'em there on the lakes ; was 
 along with Cap'n Perry." 
 
 "You were .? Oh, how proud you must be." 
 
 " Dunno's I'm runnin' over with pride. I can't say 
 as I take to sailorin', so I left when my time was up, 
 and I've been hangin' around camp all winter watchin' 
 'em drill and gittin' ready for spring. I guess they'll 
 be better fighters when Gin'ral Scott's through with 
 'em. But, as I was a-sayin', I got tired of standin' 
 round doin' nawthin', so I snuck off this way to 
 watch my opportunity of bein' of use, and here 
 I be." 
 
262 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 Jerusha greeted him with a jerk of the head and 
 went on with her soap making. She did not waste 
 a scrap of grease, and had her kettle of soft soap 
 ready when it was needed. She Hstened attentively 
 to Asa's recital while she worked, and after a while 
 set off her kettle and invited him into the house. 
 '' You'll have a bite with us," she said. "I can't offer 
 you much chice of wittles ; you'll have to take what you 
 kin git." 
 
 *'I guess I kin give my thanks right purtily fur 
 what's set before me," returned Asa. " And I dassay 
 I kin furnish ye with a bite of somethin', I see a likely 
 spot as I came along. I keep a bit of line in my 
 pocket, and I guess I kin hook ye a fish." He was 
 as good as his word, and half an hour later a fine trout 
 was sizzling over the fire. Asa made good use of his 
 afternoon, bringing in wood and water and setting 
 traps for game. Toward night he started off with a 
 hearty good-by, and Marianne's hopes arose. 
 
 He reappeared three or four days later as if it were 
 nothing unusual to come and go in this fashion. 
 " Found 'em as easy as rolhng off a log," he called 
 to Marianne, w^ho went out to meet him. " 'Most eat 
 me up when I told 'em I'd seen you. They were afeard 
 you was dead, scalped by the Injuns and all that. 
 They've been kinder lucky, ha\in* friends both sides. 
 The Americans spared 'em because your pop hap- 
 
ASA AGAIN 263 
 
 pened to be a capting, and the Britishers spared 'em 
 because their friends and neighbors was along to see 
 that they did. So you see it's well to have your 
 bread buttered on both sides. They sent ye messages 
 by the cartload, but I couldn't find a vehicle for 'em 
 all, so I'll jest give ye the gist of 'em, and that is, that 
 as soon as ever ye kin, yer to come home to 'em. I 
 told 'em ye was safe and in good hands, or the young 
 man, Victor, would have come along with me. I told 
 him he'd ought to stay there and look after his women 
 folks, and I guessed you'd find a way to git there." 
 
 " And you saw them all, grandmother and Victorine 
 and Victor ? " 
 
 '' All three of them." 
 
 " Kate was not there, of course. Did they say any- 
 thing about her and Royal.'' I hope they are safe." 
 
 Asa did not reply quite so readily as before. " They 
 said she was all right," he told her, after a slight pause. 
 
 ''And we will go — when will we go, Jerusha.?" 
 Marianne asked. 
 
 " Soon as convenient," was all the reply Jerusha 
 would vouchsafe. 
 
 Asa, having satisfied his curiosity in more ways 
 than one, did not seem inclined to tarry, but went off 
 with his usual Uttle quip of being so ready to poke his 
 nose into the affairs of others. 
 
 "That man's nobody's fool," declared Jerusha, shak- 
 
264 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 ing her head knowingly. '* He gits around and finds 
 out what he wants when nobody'd ever suspect it, 
 but I guess the spying ain't all of the most innercent 
 kind." And then it dawned on Marianne that there 
 was method in Asa's curiosity. 
 
 She fretted to get away, but Jerusha had one of 
 her contrary moods and would not humor her, saying 
 that patience was a virtue, and that it was good for 
 folks not to get what they wanted at once ; so poor 
 Marianne was more than usually irritable after Asa 
 left. The days were growing warmer, and she could 
 spend more time in the open air, and one afternoon 
 went a little farther from the cabin than usual to hunt 
 for wild flowers. She was standing on tiptoe trying 
 to reach a branch of dogwood, when she heard a voice 
 call out, *' Don't fall into a bog ! " And then, running, 
 leaping from tangled roots to tufted knoll. Jack came 
 hastening toward her. " Marianne, Marianne ! " he 
 cried ; " did I startle you ? How glad I am to find 
 you still here, and to know you are well again. You 
 are well ? " He came up and held out both hands, 
 into which she put hers. She wondered at herself 
 for being so glad to see him, a Britisher, whom she 
 ought to despise, even if he had saved her from a 
 dreadful fate. She ought to hate the fact of the 
 obligation. Yet it was Jack, and he had saved her 
 hfe ; she could not forget that. He stood holding her 
 
ASA AGAIN 265 
 
 hands and looking down at her critically. " How thin 
 you are," he said tenderly, ''and your eyes have grown 
 so big, but they are as blue as ever. Did they have 
 to cut your hair so short ? It does not look badly 
 so, though it makes you look more like a little girl 
 than ever." 
 
 Marianne laughed. '' Like the little girl you first 
 thought I was. Was that why you called to me not 
 to fall into a bog ? " 
 
 " Yes ; it reminded me of that time when I first 
 saw you in the woods. I was so glad to see you 
 alive and well. It nearly broke my heart to go off 
 and leave you lying there so ill in that poor little cabin." 
 
 '' It was much better than many poor people had, 
 and Jerusha was like a mother to me. I should have 
 died but for her." 
 
 "Yes, I know." Jack softly stroked one of her 
 hands, which she allowed to lie passively in his. Such 
 a thin little hand it was. " I have thought of you 
 so constantly all winter," he went on. 
 
 Marianne looked down a Httle uneasily. " Have 
 you seen your family > " she asked. " Do you hear 
 from Sue and Kate ? " 
 
 " I have not seen either of them lately. I have 
 been on special duty, which has taken me out of the 
 neighborhood. Sue, I beheve, is with friends in 
 Geneva." 
 
266 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 " I think my mother is there, too, though I have 
 not heard a word from her since we parted on that 
 dreadful day." She shuddered and grew pale at the 
 remembrance. " Perhaps some day," she sighed, " all 
 this dreadful time will end, and we shall all be 
 together again. My grandmother wishes me to come 
 to her. Asa was here, and he found out for me 
 that they are still at the old home. I was so glad 
 to know ; it seemed as if something were still left to 
 me. Asa brought me the very first news I have 
 had." 
 
 ** Asa Peaslee, you mean } " Jack's brows came 
 together thoughtfully, and he shook his head as if 
 he would say, this will not do ; but he only remarked, 
 *' It is well I did not come along at the same time." 
 
 " Why ? Oh, yes, I see ; you think he is too — 
 curious." Marianne smiled. ''Well, perhaps he is 
 too much so for his own good, but — " 
 
 ''Your people don't think so .^ All's fair in love 
 and war, and I have no right to question his behavior. 
 He is a good friend to you, and that should be enough 
 for me to know. So you will go to your grandmother, 
 Marianne ?" 
 
 "Yes; as soon as convenient, Jerusha says." 
 
 " I suppose that means as soon as you can get safe 
 passage over. She does not want to run any risks, 
 and she is right." 
 
ASA AGAIN 267 
 
 "Ah me, if only this dreadful war were over. Is 
 there any prospect of peace ? " 
 
 " One can hardly say. I wish it were over, for 
 then we might be placed on a different footing, and 
 you might not feel as if you ought to hate me." 
 
 *'I don't — hate you — but — " 
 
 " You don't love me. I know that — I could not 
 expect that you would, and I have no right to ask 
 you to. All I ask is that you sometimes give me a 
 kind thought. Do you ever.?" 
 
 " I don't think I ought to hate you, for you saved 
 my life. I can never forget how good you were to 
 me that day." Her lip trembled like a hurt child's, 
 and Jack drew a long sigh at sight of it. 
 
 '' Heaven knows I would never take advantage of 
 that to force you to think kindly of me," he said. 
 "This winter, many times, when I have not known 
 whether you were dead or alive, when it seemed as 
 if I might expect my own death at any moment, I 
 have wished that I had told you how much I loved 
 you. No, you need not answer. I only want to tell 
 you, so you will know that I love you, love you, 
 love you, not as a boy loves, — that was at first ; now 
 it is a man's devotion I give you. I don't let myself 
 hope I can ever win from you more than a kind 
 tolerance ; but if you were my enemy ten times over ; 
 if you, by your own act, handed me over to your 
 
268 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 own people to be shot or hung, or sent to languish 
 my life away in prison, I should still love you, love 
 you. Ah, how good you are to let me say it, and 
 not forbid me. I have felt sometimes as if I must 
 tell you or die. Marianne, Marianne, how much I 
 thank you. You have let me tell you that I love 
 you." The words poured out with passionate fire, not 
 indeed as a boy would say them, yet it was not two 
 years since they had met, and he had hardly reached 
 man's estate. 
 
 Marianne was thrilled to the very core of her being. 
 She felt that this was true love; that he had given 
 her the best he would ever have to give, and she 
 stood silent and awed in the presence of this great 
 affection. " I don't see how you can feel so," she 
 said, after a moment. She drew her hand gently away 
 from his clasp. "You know it would be impossible. 
 I ought to feel more than grateful, because you stood 
 between me and death at the risk of your own 
 life." 
 
 He lifted his hand, and she understood that it hurt 
 him for her to refer again to that, but she went on: 
 "Ever since then — and— yes, before, I wanted to 
 like you, but I felt that I couldn't; I should not, 
 when you were my country's enemy — my father's 
 enemy and mine — but I have — I do think kindly of 
 you. I can't help that, and I don't believe it is dis- 
 
ASA AGAIN 269 
 
 loyal — when — when — that is all I do. But you see 
 — you know, it could only be a friendship at the 
 best." 
 
 '' I know," he said gently. " It makes me very 
 happy to hear you say that it can be that ; and if I 
 fall before the war is over, you will have known that 
 if I could give my life for you it would not be too 
 much, but that to have told you of my love will 
 bring me peace in my last hour." 
 
 Again Marianne's Hp trembled. "Don't talk that 
 way, please, and — and I am not worthy of all that. 
 I don't see how you can feel so when I — " 
 
 " When you don't care for me .'' Jerusha might tell 
 you that you have yet to learn that it is more blessed 
 to give than to receive," he said, smiling ; for, seeing 
 that she was white and shaken by this interview, he 
 reproached himself for having been so insistent. " For- 
 give me, Marianne," he said. " I didn't realize that 
 you are not as strong as you might be, and I am 
 afraid I have been inconsiderate in talking." 
 
 "No, no," she smiled, "don't mind. I am a little 
 easily made nervous, but I am getting stronger every 
 day; and please don't blame yourself if I seem silly 
 and babyish. I cry so easily nowadays that Jerusha 
 has no patience with me. I intend to get strong and 
 well ; you know it's only a question of time." She 
 was very gentle and quiet, quite different from the 
 
270 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 Marianne of old ; but her very gentleness appealed to 
 him all the more. 
 
 They walked slowly toward the cabin, and though 
 Jerusha was not very cordial in her greeting, she was 
 not ill-pleased to see the young man again. ''There 
 is a stir in the armies," he told them, "and one does 
 not know just where it is safe. We hold Fort Niagara, 
 it is true, but the Americans say that they are deter- 
 mined to relieve us of that responsibility, if what the 
 spies and deserters tell us be true. I think the longer 
 we delay in making our way to your grandmother's, 
 Marianne, the worse for your safety." 
 
 So then it was that with a sort of grim regret 
 Jerusha bade farewell to her leach pits, her soap 
 kettle, her small stores and belongings which had 
 made the little cabin a real home to her, and after 
 seeing Acsah returned to her people, she started out 
 with Marianne into what new trials neither could 
 foresee. 
 
CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 Sorroufiil Hearts 
 
 OF the few houses left standing in that border 
 country, Madame Desvouges's was one. Victor, 
 it is true, had not had an easy time of it, and more 
 than once was threatened with expulsion by one party 
 or the other, but Victor was not combative ; he had 
 no personal grievance, he told the authorities, and why 
 should he fight ? When they attempted to burn his 
 home over his head, for Madame Desvouges and for 
 his sister he would do battle, but he had friends in 
 both armies, and why should he quarrel with one or 
 the other ? Such obvious neutrality was quite enough 
 to assure any one of his peaceable intentions ; and 
 even when orders were given that every able-bodied 
 man should be pressed into service, Victor somehow 
 managed to slip out of the way, and calmly held to 
 his post, while up and down the land ravaging bands 
 of foragers, hangers-on of both armies, and plun- 
 derers of all sorts, were laying waste the country. 
 "My place is here," declared Victor; ''I am the gar- 
 rison, the commandant, what officer you will, of this 
 fort, and here I remain." 
 
 271 
 
272 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 And so the besom of destruction passed over the 
 old house, and it was left to its occupants who clung 
 to it so obstinately. It is true they had been stripped 
 of nearly all that could be of use to cither army, but 
 the more they were called upon for supphes, the more 
 indefatigably did Victor plant and reap and gather 
 into barns, so that he came to be considered quite a 
 valuable commissariat, and perhaps that was the rea- 
 son he was let alone. 
 
 It was one cold night during the time that Mari- 
 anne was lying ill that those at the Desvouges farm 
 were startled by hearing rapid hoof beats coming up 
 the lane. Madame cast a quick look of apprehen- 
 sion at Victor. "Some one for you, my son.?" 
 
 "Perhaps," he replied, "but there can be nothing 
 to alarm us, when the men are all in winter quarters 
 and no expeditions are likely to be undertaken." 
 
 " Go, then, and see who it is." 
 
 Victor Hghted his lantern and went to the door. 
 It was snowing drearily, in heavy flakes. The horse 
 was coming fast up the lane, between the rows of 
 leafless trees; at the gate he stopped of his own 
 accord. Victor held up his lantern. " Who is it ? " 
 he cried. 
 
 " For the love of Heaven, Victor, help us," said a 
 familiar voice. 
 
 " Royal ! " cried Victor. Not once since that day 
 
SORROWFUL HEARTS 273 
 
 when his grandmother had bidden him take his wife 
 away had Royal entered the house. He and Victor 
 had met : they bore each other no ill-will. Victor 
 had few, if any, enemies; he was always disposed to 
 be tolerant. True, Royal had disappointed his grand- 
 mother, but, argued Victor, he did it unwittingly, and 
 so now to see him at the gate at this hour and in 
 this weather argued some disaster. As he turned 
 the light of his lantern fuller upon Royal, he saw 
 that he was not alone. Close to his breast he held 
 his wife, and under her cloak was warmly clasped a 
 tiny baby. 
 
 At sight of this down went Victor's lantern in a 
 twinkling. "Give me the little one," he said, holding 
 out his arms. " Victorine ! Maman ! " he shouted. 
 " Here ! " Victorine came running out, and into her 
 arms Victor laid the child. " It is Royal's baby," he 
 said. And Victorine enfolded the tiny bundle closer. 
 " Run in with the little one ; it is cold," Victor urged, 
 and then he gave his attention to Kate, gently helping 
 her down. As she reached the ground she staggered into 
 the arms of Madame Desvouges, opened to receive her. 
 "Go in quickly," said Victor, "and I will come with 
 Royal ; he is hurt, I think." 
 
 "To the death," murmured Royal. "Get me in, 
 Victor, I have not long." 
 
 The tears were rolling down Madame's face as she 
 
 T 
 
274 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 knelt by Kate, who had fainted upon reaching the warm 
 room. " She is ill and weak, poor child," said Madame. 
 '' Such a little baby, Victorine. Ah me, how cruel to 
 drive them out into this bitter night." Between them 
 they got Kate into an inner room. Victorine laid the 
 child by her side, and the two women gave themselves 
 up to ministering to the mother and child, while Victor 
 helped Royal to his own bed. 
 
 " It is no use," gasped Royal. And, indeed, Victor 
 saw that no effort of his could stay the hand of the 
 death angel. "They came upon us," Royal said, 
 speaking with difficulty, " no, no, not American soldiers, 
 they were but a band of plunderers and ruffians with no 
 country. They drove us out and set fire to the house. 
 They would have done worse but I struck down one 
 fellow and seized his horse — I managed to get Kate 
 and the boy, but — they fired — and — I am hard hit." 
 He lay breathing heavily. " Poor Kate ! " he said, after 
 a time. "You will — not — let her — suffer, Victor. 
 And my little son. Where is Victorine ? She — will be 
 
 good — to my — boy. He, you know — my father 
 
 forgave me — the letter is here — " He laid his hand 
 feebly on his breast. "He — it was all cross purposes 
 — misunderstandings. Mother — and poor — little 
 Marianne — I — don't — know — where they are. 
 You'll be good — to Kate — and— the boy, Vic- 
 tor.?" 
 
SORROWFUL HEARTS 275 
 
 '* I swear to you I will," said Victor, gravely. ** They 
 shall not suffer while I am able to help them." 
 
 "Victorine!" 
 
 Victor went to the door and called his sister. She 
 came in quick response. Victor took her two hands in 
 his. " Victorine, my poor girl, he is dying." 
 
 '' No, no ! " Victorine clutched his hand with frantic 
 clasp. 
 
 "He has asked for you. Can you be calm ? " 
 
 " Yes, yes, I can. I will." 
 
 They entered the room together. The man lying 
 there was growing very weak. " Victorine," he whis- 
 pered, " good angel, Victorine — you — will — love my 
 — boy ? Kate, my wife — is she — is she — " 
 
 " She is very weak, but comparatively comfortable. 
 We have put her to bed. Maman is with her." 
 
 A smile came over the man's face. '' Grand'mere ? " 
 
 "Yes. Ah, Royal, dear boy, you need not fear 
 for your wife and son. We will love them and care 
 for them. Maman is so distressed. She reproaches 
 herself." 
 
 " No — she must not. Grand'mere ! " 
 
 The elder woman was summoned. She came, 
 trembling and wretched. "I drove you from me, 
 Royal. I did this dreadful thing ! " she cried, wring- 
 ing her hands. "Where should you have brought 
 your young wife but here to your own people .'* Ah 
 
276 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 me, I have a cruel, bad heart. Live, Royal, live, and 
 I will show you how tender I can be to your wife 
 and child. Such a little child, so small and helpless ! 
 My great-grandson. Ah me ! that I should be so 
 cruel." She burst into uncontrollable weeping. 
 
 The dying man's eyes rested on Victorine. " My 
 boy," he said. 
 
 ''You want to see him.-*" 
 
 *'Yes," came the faint whisper. 
 
 Victorine went out, and returned with the little one, 
 who opened his baby eyes and blinked as he was 
 brought into the hghted room. Victorine laid him by 
 Royal's side, and the baby closed its little hand around 
 one of his father's chill fingers. Royal's eyes, full of 
 a strange, awed, yearning expression, sought Victo- 
 rine. " My son," he said, " and he will have no 
 father." 
 
 " I will be a father to him, Royal," said Victor, in 
 a broken voice. 
 
 ''And he shall be my dearest care," Victorine told 
 him. " If God spares me, and so far as a woman 
 can, I will watch over him, and I pray he may grow 
 to be a good man. His mother shall not be left to 
 battle alone ; be sure of that." 
 
 Royal smiled. He seemed content. His eyes closed, 
 and he lay very still, each moment pulsing out his 
 last heart-beats. Victorine bent over him, an agony 
 
SORROWFUL HEARTS 277 
 
 of love in her eyes. Once more he smiled at her. 
 ** Good angel — Victorine — sing." 
 
 She began tremblingly, faintly ; it was so sore a 
 trial, but faith and devotion and heroism gave her 
 strength, and the beautiful voice arose clearer and 
 sweeter. Her eyes were uplifted ; one hand clasped 
 Royal's. The sobs of Madame Desvouges grew less 
 and less. She wept quietly. Once more Royal opened 
 his eyes. Before him Victorine held her crucifix, 
 dearer forever after by reason of its having received 
 his last look. There was one deep sigh, and Royal's 
 boy was fatherless. But Victorine, in the very agony 
 of her grief, sang on till her hymn was concluded. 
 Then she sank down on her knees by the bedside. 
 Victor led his mother away, and they left her there 
 with her dead love and his living child. 
 
 Kate took her place very quietly in the household. 
 It was weeks before she could leave her bed, and in 
 that time Royal had been laid to rest under the 
 snows of March, and the baby had become the most 
 important member of the family. Nothing in all the 
 world could have brought Victorine the comfort that 
 this helpless bit of humanity was able to give. In 
 her heart he was Roy, her king, though Kate had 
 told her that he was named Walter by his father's 
 wish. Under unremitting love and care, the baby 
 throve, and Kate at last was able to take up the busi- 
 
278 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 ness of living with a less feeling of loneliness than at 
 first seemed possible. They were all so gentle, so 
 solicitous, so concerned for her and her Httle son. 
 There was not one in the house who did not make 
 mother and child the first consideration, and though 
 Kate protested, they all assured her that they could not 
 help it; there was nothing in the world so important 
 to them as Royal's wife and child. Therefore Kate 
 accepted this homage graciously and unaffectedly, 
 and grew to love them as they did her. So that 
 when Marianne arrived late in the spring, she found at 
 her grandmother's quite a new state of things : Queen 
 Kate and his Royal Highness, Sir Walter, absorbing 
 the interest of the whole family. 
 
 Marianne had not made her journey without diffi- 
 culty. With the news of the probable approach of the 
 Americans, who were determined more than ever to 
 conduct a successful invasion of Canada, the country 
 again became the haunt of bands of marauders ready 
 for the sHghtest excuse to pounce down upon whatever 
 might present itself in the way of plunder. To avoid 
 these, who might almost be termed bandits, it was nec- 
 essary that the travellers should proceed cautiously. 
 But with the aid of some friendly Indians, and with 
 Jack as their main protector, they reached the river 
 and were set over safely. 
 
 It was a pretty domestic scene which greeted them at 
 
SORROWFUL HEARTS 279 
 
 the threshold of Madame Desvouges's door. Kate held 
 her little son, before whose eager eyes Victor dangled 
 a bright coin. Victorine was sewing upon a small gar- 
 ment, fashioned from one of Madame's treasured 
 bits of fine cambric, but none too good for Master 
 Walter. Madame was knitting a pair of baby's socks, 
 and all eyes were given to glancing between times to 
 the baby himself. 
 
 Into the room came Marianne, Jerusha, and Jack ; 
 and the first thing, Marianne, too, prostrated herself 
 before the idol. " Oh, the dear love," she cried. ** To 
 think I didn't know I was an aunt." She kissed the 
 soft, curhng, pink hands, then ran from one to the other 
 to give her greeting. ''You knew I would be here 
 soon ? Yes, it was Jack who discovered me. Ah me, 
 but it has been a long, sad winter. Perceive me, 
 grand'mere, as one arisen from the dead. I will tell you 
 my tale of woe later. Yes, I have been ill. Did 
 Asa not tell you ? And how are you all .'' Every- 
 body ? And where is Royal ? " 
 
 There was silence. Kate's head bent low over her 
 baby's. " Our dear Lord has taken him, Marianne," 
 said Victorine, gently. Marianne gazed at her, wide- 
 eyed, and then she fell into a passion of weeping. 
 
 But it was Victorine who took her in her arms and 
 tried to comfort her. 
 
 *' It is so dreadful, so dreadful," sobbed Marianne. 
 
28o A LOYAL LASS 
 
 '* My only brother, and my father a prisoner, and my 
 mother I cannot tell where. Oh, why did I not die, 
 too ? It is too sorrowful a world to live in." 
 
 " No, no, dear child," Victorine chided her, gently, 
 " you do not know what may be in store for you. 
 You do not know what work waits for you to do. 
 See, here are all of us who love you, and this dear 
 baby, your nephew; he has your brother's eyes, and 
 he will comfort you as he has all of us." She took 
 the baby from Kate, and placed him in Marianne's 
 arms. And indeed her tears were stayed at sight of 
 the wondering baby eyes; and when the little one 
 smiled up at her, she could but smile back at him. 
 
 Jack could not stay with them long. There was 
 too much astir. He and Marianne had one more 
 talk together. For some reason, Marianne discerned 
 that her grandmother did not make such a point of 
 forcing Victor's company upon her; and Victor him- 
 self, though the same even-tempered fellow, had not 
 once sought her out for a confidential talk, had not 
 once told her that she was the prettiest girl in the 
 country, nor had he made any allusions to those old 
 days when they were such comrades. Was she, then, 
 so changed.? Had her illness and her dire experi- 
 ences so altered her as to give her no more a claim 
 to being called pretty ? She felt quite aggrieved, and 
 perhaps because of that was all the more ready to 
 
SORROWFUL HEARTS 281 
 
 join Jack when he asked her to walk with him down 
 to the orchard, where the apple-blossoms were display- 
 ing their wonders of pink and white. 
 
 "You do not mind going?" he said. 
 
 " No, I shall like to," Marianne replied, with a side 
 glance at Victor. She was glad of this opportunity 
 of showing her indifference to her old admirer. To 
 be sure she had never thought of Victor sentimen- 
 tally, she told herself, and it was time he knew it. 
 She had grown very dependent upon Jack in these 
 days when they had braved the perils of the journey 
 together, and somehow they seemed to have more in 
 common. 
 
 They passed out into the spring sunshine, and Kate 
 watched them with a sigh. A year ago, in spring- 
 time, she and Royal were married ; so long ago, it 
 seemed. She looked at the little one lying in her 
 lap. Victor came and laid a gentle finger on the 
 baby's soft fuzzy head. " He grows," he said, with 
 pleased interest. " He will soon be walking and 
 talking, Kate, and I will teach him to do many 
 things. Do you notice that he likes music ? Already 
 he listens when I take my violin." He took down 
 the instrument from its corner, and began to play 
 softly upon it, watching the baby's face the while. 
 
 The gentle strains reached the ears of the two 
 who had seated themselves under a branching apple 
 
282 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 tree. '* It is Victor," said Marianne. " He plays to 
 the baby. I think," she said, half-aggrieved, " the 
 baby has cut me out." 
 
 Jack picked up a rosy petal which had drifted 
 down upon her hand. " Do you care for that ? " he 
 asked. 
 
 '' I don't know. A little, maybe. I don't like to 
 be set aside even for a baby, and then — " She paused, 
 and let the falling petals drift through her fingers. 
 
 "And then some day you expect to marry Victor; 
 is that it.'^" asked Jack, m an unsteady voice. 
 
 "No — yes — that is, I cannot tell. Grand'mere has 
 always wanted it to be so, but — I — " She shot a 
 quick glance at Jack, and turned her head aside. " I 
 am beginning to think I could never have cared 
 enough — not in that way. I am beginning to know 
 one doesn't — does not feel just the same toward — 
 oh, I don't know what I am trying to say." 
 
 Jack seized her hand. " Marianne, what makes you 
 say this ? " 
 
 She was silent. " Because I am older, I suppose," 
 she answered, after a pause. " I know better what it 
 means. I couldn't be content to live all my life with 
 Victor ; he isn't exciting enough." She laughed a 
 little. 
 
 "Then if he were — exciting — you would be will- 
 ing.?" 
 
SORROWFUL HEARTS 283 
 
 " Perhaps. I can't tell. That is the way I feel now. 
 I don't know what will suit me a year or two hence." 
 
 " You are older than when you fell into the bog, I 
 confess," said Jack. "Ah, Marianne, I am in a worse 
 slough than ever you were in. I fell in then, and I 
 shall never get out unless you pull me. You have your 
 revenge." He sighed. " I am afraid I shall always 
 stay there, for you are not so merciful to a prisoner 
 as I was." 
 
 Marianne shook her head. "Don't let us talk about 
 it. You know there is not the slightest, no, not the 
 slightest, possibiHty of your getting out by my help. 
 I have no doubt," she added brightly, " that some one 
 else will come to your rescue before you are in too 
 deep. Oh, if I could really save your life," she added 
 more seriously, " I would be so glad ; for then I would 
 not feel, when I have to tell you the truth, that I 
 ought not for fear of hurting you." 
 
 "I know all that," said Jack, humbly. "Shall I 
 put myself in danger to make it easier for you ? " 
 
 "You ridiculous boy, of course not." She tapped 
 him lightly with a little bunch of blossoms. " At least, 
 the situation has this merit : I can be friends with you 
 without censuring myself, and I never felt that I could 
 before." 
 
 " Did you ever want to .-* " 
 
 " Sometimes, yes." 
 
284 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 '* Then that is a point gained. I feel more hopeful. 
 Isn't it a French fashion — are you French enough 
 — to — to kiss me good-by.^" 
 
 Marianne colored up. "I — no — but you may kiss 
 my cheek. No, no, not now. When you go." The 
 thought of his going suddenly startled her, and she 
 put both hands over her eyes quickly, as if she would 
 shut out a vision she saw. '' Will there be much fight- 
 ing.?" she asked. "Shall you be in many battles, do 
 you think .-^ " 
 
 " Who can tell ? I go, and that is enough to know. 
 It is all very uncertain. I may come back with flying 
 colors, and I may be stricken down before night ; that 
 is a soldier's life. Would you be sorry to lose your — 
 friend .? " 
 
 " Yes, very. Please don't talk of that as a possi- 
 bility. Let us be gay and happy. You will come 
 back, we will say and believe ; and your grandfather 
 and Kate will live together, and after a while you 
 will marry — Minerva Ashman." 
 
 " Never ! " 
 
 "Oh, I don't mean right away. Years and years 
 from now." 
 
 Jack shook his head very positively. "There is 
 only one girl in the world I shall ever be content to 
 marry, and if I cannot have her, I shall live and die 
 an old bachelor. Besides, you forget ; it would be cruel 
 
SORROWFUL HEARTS 285 
 
 to take Kate from your grandmother and Victorine. I 
 couldn't feel that it would be right to do that." 
 
 ''Then you will have to go to Kentucky and live with 
 Sue. Would you ever be willing to do it, I wonder." 
 
 " I think not. I might go somewhere, miles and 
 miles away. If you — ah, Marianne, if you married, 
 I don't think I could live near you." 
 
 " Don't you ? " she asked lamely. 
 
 " No, I love you too much. There, I said I would 
 not worry you again by saying so, but it is so sweet 
 to tell you and have you listen. Here, under these 
 trees, in the spring sunshine, with war and danger 
 and all so far off, as it seems, I can only think of 
 one thing as I look at you, and that is that I love 
 you. Some day, maybe, if it is my lot to fall upon 
 the battlefield, you may like to remember that you 
 made me so very happy in this our last hour together." 
 
 " I am glad if I do." The words came in a whisper. 
 " I think, perhaps, if this is really our last hour 
 together, that you may kiss me good-by now." 
 
 '' Marianne, dearest, how good you are." He bent 
 to kiss her cheek, but she turned her face and her 
 lips met his. Then she started to her feet and ran 
 back to the house holding one hand over her beating 
 heart ; and up to her room she went, to throw herself 
 down on the bed and weep the bitter tears of a newly 
 awakened and hopeless love. 
 
CHAPTER XIX 
 Marianne Celebrates 
 
 THE summer of 1814 found the American troops 
 upon the Niagara frontier more confident than 
 ever before. Under the . indefatigable labors of Gen- 
 eral Scott, they had been vigorously trained, all 
 through the spring, in military tactics, and toward 
 the end of June it was proposed to reopen the 
 campaign. There were British troops encamped at 
 Chippewa ; Forts George, Niagara, and Erie were 
 garrisoned, and at Queenston was a small force. 
 There was much sickness in the British camp, and 
 their entire force was not so large but that they had 
 to resort to a draft of one-fourteenth of the male 
 population. This proclamation alarmed Madame Des- 
 vouges and Victorine. What if Victor, who had been 
 so fortunately exempt thus far, should now be forced 
 to take up arms, when he was more than ever needed 
 at home.'* But Victor was again lucky, for the axe 
 did not fall upon his devoted head. 
 
 With Royal beyond all hopes and fears, with her 
 father a prisoner at Quebec, all Marianne's anxiety 
 was now centred in Jack, who was in the field and 
 
 286 
 
MARIANNE CELEBRATES 287 
 
 might at any time be called to battle. There were 
 daily reports that the Americans intended to lose 
 no time in regaining their lost ground, and that they 
 were ready to invade Canada. The British had been 
 vigilant in picking off spies who attempted to cross 
 the river, but, nevertheless, it was known that the 
 Americans were quite aware of the strength — or 
 weakness — of their foe, and that when they came 
 a hot conflict might be expected. Soon the whole 
 country was up in arms. Marching and counter- 
 marching, camps here, there, everywhere ; the noise 
 of skirmishing, of hoof-beats up and down the roads, 
 of alarms sounded, of the beat of drums and the 
 call of fifes filled the air. 
 
 On the morning of the fourth of July Marianne 
 came downstairs full of enthusiasm. '' Independence 
 Day," she cried. '' I wish we could win a battle this 
 day." 
 
 *' You know what that means," said Kate, signifi- 
 cantly. 
 
 "What.?" asked Marianne, wheeling around defi- 
 antly. 
 
 Kate took her face between her hands. "Your 
 eyes were very red the day Jack went away, little 
 sister." 
 
 Marianne bit her lip and gave her head a toss. 
 "Well, and what of it.? I suppose I may have my 
 
288 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 griefs and that you do not always know the nature 
 of them." 
 
 Kate put her arms around her. *' Don't be cross, 
 dear. Jack told me long, long ago that you were 
 very dear to him, and it is nothing to be ashamed 
 of that you should shed a tear for his sake." 
 
 Marianne's head drooped, and she sighed. ''Yes; 
 but, Kate, you know that however much he cared, 
 it could never be anything but a friendship." 
 
 "Why.?" 
 
 " Because he is a Britisher, or the same as one ; and 
 my father would be very unhappy, more than ever 
 that he is bereft of his son, if I were to go over to 
 the enemy. I have always stood by father, and I 
 shall always do so, whatever happens." 
 
 " Even if it means the breaking of your own heart .? " 
 
 " I will not let my heart break ; but even if it did, 
 rather than not live on American soil I will die by 
 inches, but I will die a free, independent citizen of 
 my own United States ; so there ! " 
 
 " Then nothing will persuade you to live on this 
 side the river ? What about Victor ? You know your 
 family's desire in that direction." 
 
 '' Whoever marries me will have to come over to 
 my side. If he doesn't love me enough for that, he 
 can stay at home. But it is Fourth of July, and I 
 want to celebrate. Where is Jerusha ? She is a good 
 
MARIANNE CELEBRATES 289 
 
 American ; we will do something together to declare 
 our sentiments. If the country were not full of sol- 
 diers, I would ride up to the Falls ; only something 
 big and tremendous and exhilarating like that expresses 
 my feelings on this day." 
 
 Kate laughed and picked up her baby, who was 
 crowing in his cradle, while Marianne went in search 
 of Jerusha. She found her in the wash-house indus- 
 triously at work. " It's Fourth of July, Jerusha," 
 said Marianne. " How shall we celebrate.'*" 
 
 " I guess I'm doing all the celebrating I'll do," 
 Jerusha replied. " There's one thing I don't mean 
 shall be said to me, and that is, 'Why stand ye all 
 the day idle ?' I've no time for jewlarking." 
 
 *' Who said anything about that ? Just hurrah for 
 the Stars and Stripes, or sing Yankee Doodle while 
 you are washing, or do something. Oh, dear, if one 
 could but have a picnic or something like that, and 
 if some one was here to make a speech and set off 
 fireworks, as we used to do at home, I would be 
 pleased." 
 
 Jerusha swashed her clothes up and down vigorously. 
 *' There's no time for patriotic speeches these days. 
 The army's on the move, and I guess they'll show 
 their patriotism by a kind of fireworks that ain't very 
 harmless. They say a proclamation has come out, 
 saying that nobody's going to be touched if they're 
 
290 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 peaceable and quiet ; and I guess we can rest easy, 
 and not be afraid of Injuns being let loose on us. 
 They're marching toward Fort Erie ; they say it's took 
 by our men, and they're coming this way. I guess 
 they'll git stopped before they git here." 
 
 " They may get stopped, but I hope they'll not 
 get beaten. I see plainly, Jerusha, that you won't 
 let me kindle the fires of your patriotism, or if I 
 do, you put them out with soapsuds, so I will go off 
 by myself and do my own celebrating." 
 
 " Look out that you don't go too far," Jerusha 
 warned her. 
 
 " I'll not," Marianne called back. She went up 
 to the garret to rummage in an old chest, where she 
 remembered storing a good-sized American flag two 
 years before. It was one she had made and brought 
 over for the purpose of teasing Royal and Jack. She 
 rolled it up and slipped it in her pocket with her 
 little pipe. Then she went down through the orchard 
 and on into the woods. A slim young sapling gave 
 her a staff for her flag, and with it flung out to the 
 breeze, she marched along gayly piping Yankee Doodle. 
 
 When she reached a certain Httle knoll she planted 
 her flag firmly, and standing by its side she addressed 
 herself to the silent company of the trees. Her clear, 
 girlish voice rang out in a flowery speech, in which 
 much spread-eagle oratory, mixed metaphor, and queer 
 
MARIANNE CELEBRATES 291 
 
 logic were prominent. She was totally unaware that 
 she had other audience than the sentinel trees, but 
 behind her, watering his horse at a tinkling brook, was 
 a young British soldier hastening with a message to 
 Queenston. In front of her in the thicket was 
 hidden an American scout on his way in the opposite 
 direction to join Scott's army. Of the two, it was the 
 scout who was least anxious to be seen ; for his was a 
 dangerous errand through the enemy's country, and he 
 took his Hfe in his hand when he ventured forth. 
 
 The address ended, Marianne piped up again her 
 Yankee Doodle. The two men listened with very 
 opposite emotions. What did not the little pipe bring 
 to the redcoat's recollection ? What patriotic feelings 
 were not stirred in the heart of the American } He 
 plucked up courage at the sound. Here was a patri- 
 otic maiden, who could probably give him a few hints 
 how best to avoid the enemy on his journey. 
 
 Marianne stood smiling as he advanced toward her. 
 He halted at the foot of the mound, but alas for the 
 Britisher, this very moment gave a glimpse of the red- 
 coat to the scout. Each saw the other at the same 
 instant. It was a critical time for the American ; there 
 might be other British near; he obeyed his first im- 
 pulse and fired. At the same instant Marianne, having 
 seen his start of surprise, swung around and caught 
 sight of the figure by the brook. She rushed forward 
 
292 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 still holding her flag, which she had a minute before 
 taken in her hand. Did she not recognize that boyish 
 face ? ** Jack ! " she cried. " Oh, Jack ! " 
 
 The young man still stood, but he leaned heavily 
 against his horse and felt for his pistol. Seeing this, 
 the American took aim a second time, but before he 
 could fire, the form of the girl sprang between him and 
 his enemy, and her flag covered Jack from sight. '' You 
 dare not fire on your flag," cried Marianne. " Go, go 
 quickly ; I, too, am an American, but you shall not fire 
 upon this man. Go, or I will call help ; your enemies 
 are nearer than you know." She put the pipe to her 
 lips, and the man plunged into the thicket without a 
 look behind. 
 
 Then Marianne flung down her flag, and ran to 
 where Jack had sunk to the ground, very white, but 
 with a smile on his Hps. The girl crouched beside 
 him, and took his head in her lap. " Jack," she said, 
 ''Jack, you are not hurt badly; tell me you are not." 
 His lips moved, but he grew very faint, and no words 
 came. His pallor and silence overcame Marianne with 
 alarm. " He is dead," she moaned. *' All I love must 
 go. Oh, Jack, dear, dear Jack, I have been so cruel to 
 you, so wrong and hard-hearted. Speak to me. I love 
 you, yes, I do love you. Listen while I tell it. Listen 
 before you die. I know now. I knew when you left 
 me that day. Jack, my dearest, my only love, don't 
 
MARIANNE CELEBRATES 293 
 
 die." The eyelids fluttered, but there was no response 
 from his white Ups. " What shall I do ? What shall 
 I do ? Oh, if some one would only come ! Jerusha ! 
 Victor ! Kate ! " she called. There came an answer 
 from over the hill, and presently a figure in sunbonnet 
 and flapping gown appeared between the trees. '' Je- 
 rusha ! Jerusha!" cried Marianne, ''hurry! hurry!" 
 And Jerusha's strides became a run. 
 
 '' I cal'lated you'd been gone long enough," Jerusha 
 began, but she broke short her sentence. ''What in 
 the name of conscience are you doin' there "^ For 
 the land's sake, Mary Ann Reyburn, what are you 
 doing with that Britisher .? " 
 
 " Oh, Jerusha, Jerusha, it's Jack, it's Jack, and he's 
 killed ! Oh, Jerusha, it is my own dear Jack who loves 
 me so ; and I love him, I do. Jack, I do ! " 
 
 Despite the gravity of the situation, Jerusha gave her 
 a glance of scorn. "You do, do you.? I thought you 
 couldn't abide him. Trust a girl for not knowing her 
 own mind. Here, let me see what's the matter." She 
 knelt down and laid her hand over the young man's 
 heart. " He ain't dead ; he's just swoonded." She 
 went to the brook, and scooping up some water, dashed 
 it in his face, and then began to bathe his head. After 
 a little he opened his eyes and smiled at them. Mari- 
 anne sat up stiffly. " You're not dead," she said. 
 
 " No," he replied ; " I guess not this time. It was 
 
294 
 
 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 a close shave. You saved me, Marianne," he whis- 
 pered. 
 
 The color came back to the girl's lips. '' I believe I 
 did," she replied, in a low voice, glancing at Jerusha, 
 who was tethering the horse that he might not get 
 away. *' Or, rather," she went on, seeing that Jerusha 
 did not hear, '' it was the flag did it. You were saved 
 by my flag ; you can never revile it again." 
 
 Jack began to laugh weakly in spite of his evident 
 pain. ''It was so funny," he said. 
 
 ** What } " asked Marianne, in surprise. 
 
 " The Fourth of July address," he answered, and 
 then he fainted again, and Marianne's rising pique was 
 lost in her anxiety. 
 
 '* We must try to get him up to the house at once," 
 said Jerusha, coming at Marianne's call. " I'll go and 
 fetch Victor and some sort of litter, and I guess be- 
 tween us we can carry him. Don't you get into high- 
 strikes again while I'm gone. He's good for some 
 time yet, for all I kin see." 
 
 With this reassurance and admonishment, Marianne 
 was left. She sat quietly, with Jack's head resting in 
 her lap, and in a short time Jerusha returned, and Jack 
 was carefully carried to the house, where he was wept 
 over by Kate, and tenderly ministered to by Victorine 
 and Madame Desvouges. He was Royal's friend, and 
 that was enough to win him compassionate and gentle 
 
MARIANNE CELEBRATES 295 
 
 care. Upon seeing him in competent hands, Marianne 
 held aloof, and as his danger lessened, she withdrew 
 herself more and more. 
 
 As night came on, the sound of distant cannonading 
 reached their ears, and the next day brought the news 
 of victory for the Americans on the field of Chippewa. 
 "I told you," said Jerusha, "there would be fireworks." 
 
 A few days later, when the American army was 
 encamped at Queenston, who should come hobbling in 
 but Asa. He had been wounded at Lundy's Lane, but 
 had dechned to be sent to the hospital at Lewiston, 
 saying he had friends on this side the river. He 
 brought news that gave a strange gray pallor to Je- 
 rusha's face. Her husband had fallen in battle. She 
 heard Asa imperturbably, giving no evidence of emo- 
 tion but a tight clasping of her knotted hands. " I 
 hope he was prepared," she said, as she arose to leave 
 the room. Marianne stole after her. " Jerusha, dear 
 Jerusha," she said, with her arms about her, "I am so, 
 so grieved for you." 
 
 Jerusha pressed her lips convulsively together. "I 
 guess my bitterest tears were shed long ago," she said. 
 " He wa'n't a good man, but he might have been a 
 worse one. He was no patriot, but — but — " She 
 turned away her head, and the tears stole down her 
 cheeks. He was the love of her youth, and at that 
 moment all else was blotted out. 
 
296 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 Next to appear was Fred Lyle, Lieutenant Lyle 
 now, and he brought brighter news. Mrs. Reyburn 
 and Sue were in Geneva, and had been together all 
 this time. They were both well. Captain Reyburn 
 still awaited his exchange, but they had heard from him 
 from time to time, and he was well treated and hoped 
 for a speedy release ; indeed, they might expect to see 
 him any day. Of Major Silverthorn Jack was able to 
 tell them ; he was still with the army, and as bitter a 
 partisan as ever. Jack, it may be mentioned, seemed 
 very well content not to have been a sharer in the 
 fortunes and misfortunes of his regiment at Chippewa 
 and Lundy's Lane. Fred gave them a graphic account 
 of these two battles, of that valiant charge at Chippewa, 
 where General Scott, by his brilliant tactics, defeated 
 the larger force of the enemy ; and of Lundy's Lane, 
 fought within sight and sound of the thundering cata- 
 ract of Niagara, and fought by night, a weird battle 
 surely. " We took the battery, held it, and drove the 
 enemy from the field. We should have held our 
 ground ; there was no reason why we could not have 
 done it, but because we did not, the British claim a 
 victory, but it is preposterous." 
 
 Jack, to whom he was talking, did not argue the 
 point. He felt in no mood for it. He was occupied 
 with wondering why Marianne held herself so aloof. 
 She had saved his life, for without a doubt a second 
 
MARIANNE CELEBRATES 297 
 
 shot from the unerring gun of an American scout would 
 have laid him low. He felt secure as to his despatches, 
 for Victor had taken charge of them and forwarded 
 them. But for Marianne's presence they might have 
 fallen into the hands of the enemy, Jack told himself, 
 and he owed the girl thanks for that. 
 
 It was his old spirit of teasing which finally brought 
 Marianne out of her attitude of diffidence ; for he told 
 her triumphantly that he meant to apply to the British 
 government for a medal for her in recognition of her 
 gallantry in defending his Majesty's messenger, who 
 was carrying important despatches upon his person. 
 
 She recoiled a step from him and looked at him with 
 a shocked expression. He was sitting up for the first 
 time, and though not rosy, he looked well. *'0h," 
 she exclaimed, " I did that ! I was disloyal to my 
 country ! O dear, that was dreadful ! I ought not to 
 have failed to examine your pockets to find out what 
 you carried ; that is what a real heroine would have 
 done. It really was dreadfully wrong of me." 
 
 "To save my life.? " He held out his hand. "You 
 said we were friends, Marianne," he dropped his ban- 
 tering tone. " Won't you let me thank you for that ? 
 It was like your dear, noble self." 
 
 Marianne smiled. " As I told you before, you must 
 thank my flag ; it defended you. You were under its 
 protection. No good American would fire on his own 
 
298 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 flag, you see, and I knew it would be perfectly safe for 
 you behind it." 
 
 " All the same, the flag couldn't have walked without 
 feet, and it was you who placed yourself between me 
 and danger. I repeat, and shall always to my dying 
 day, that you saved my life ; I wish you would take 
 the credit for it and let me tell them all what you 
 did." 
 
 '' I don't want you to." 
 
 ''Why not.?" 
 
 Marianne shot him a hurt glance. " You must not 
 tell any one that it was I who saved you. Oh, can't 
 you see why ? " And she precipitately fled, leaving Jack 
 to puzzle over her words. It was months after that his 
 masculine mind grasped what she meant, and he was 
 able to perceive what her womanly intuition had seen in 
 a moment. 
 
 Jack joined his grandfather in Montreal, and Asa 
 with his Hmping foot remained with the family till the 
 summer faded and the winter brought the news that the 
 Niagara frontier was abandoned by both sides. It had 
 been sorely distressed, but one after another began to 
 creep back to the abandoned homes ; the wasted fields 
 once more began to show signs of greenness, and houses 
 sprang up here and there upon the sites marked by 
 blackened heaps. Among the last to return were Cap- 
 tain Reyburn and his wife. The former had at last 
 
MARIANNE CELEBRATES 299 
 
 received his exchange and made haste to join his wife 
 at Geneva. Together they made the journey back to 
 where their home once stood, and then they crossed the 
 river. The news of Royal's death and of Marianne's 
 safety had reached them, and now they were eager to 
 see their daughter and the new claimant to their affec- 
 tions, the baby Walter. 
 
 It was a nipping cold day when they arrived at Ma- 
 dame Desvouges's and found, shut in the warmth of her 
 big living-room, the whole family. For once Mrs. Rey- 
 burn had no words as she held Marianne to her mother 
 heart. " Our child, our child ; all we have left," she said 
 at last, turning to her husband. But Captain Reyburn 
 was smiling down at Kate, as he held the baby close to 
 his bearded face. " Oh, no," he said, " we have another 
 daughter, and here, my wife, is our little grandson that 
 you have so longed to see." He put the child in her 
 lap and asked, "And what is the name of this little 
 fellow .? " 
 
 ''Walter, Kate told me. It was Royal's dearest 
 wish that he should be named after you." And then 
 the strong man, who had bravely faced danger and loss 
 and sorrow and defeat, fell upon his knees by his wife's 
 side and hid his face. "My son, my son," he cried, 
 " how gladly would I have died for you ! " 
 
 Tears were coursing down Marianne's cheeks as she 
 bent over him. " Father, dear father," she whispered. 
 
300 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 " don't say that. What would mother and I do without 
 you ? " 
 
 " Your last letter was such a comfort," Kate told him, 
 " and he said many times that he loved you very dearly 
 even when he seemed the most unruly, and he hoped 
 his son would be the comfort and stay to you that he 
 thought he had failed to be." 
 
 " My poor Royal," sighed Mrs. Reyburn, " he was so 
 young, and it was love he needed to lead him. He 
 would never be driven." 
 
 Despite the knowledge that all hard feeling had been 
 swept away by the letter Captain Reyburn had written 
 to his son, and which was so treasured by him, it was a 
 bitter moment for the father, who reaHzed too late that 
 but for his own inflexible will there need never have been 
 any misunderstanding between him and his eldest born. 
 
 That Kate bore him no ill-will and was so anxious 
 to carry out Royal's wishes affected Captain Reyburn 
 greatly, and he paid her such deference and considera- 
 tion as would have gladdened Royal's heart to see. 
 "You will come home to us, my daughter," he said to 
 her. " I shall rebuild as soon as spring opens. By 
 then I hope we shall have peace." 
 
 " We will see whether Kate and the boy are willing 
 to leave me," interposed Madame Desvouges, jealously. 
 She was pitifully eager to recompense Kate for her first 
 unkindness, and as to the boy, to lose him seemed more 
 
MARIANNE CELEBRATES 301 
 
 than she could bear. " You would not take them from 
 me," she said pathetically. " I should never recover 
 from it ! I want them always, always." 
 
 " But we want them, too," said Mrs. Reyburn, already 
 a slave to her grandson's charms. 
 
 '' We shall see," said Madame, emphatically. " There 
 is time enough. Matters will adjust themselves. There 
 is no need to quarrel over them now. Possession is 
 nine points of the law, and behold, we possess." 
 
CHAPTER XX 
 
 Peace 
 
 BY the time the new home across the river was 
 built there was peace in the land. The battle 
 of New Orleans had been fought, the last engagement 
 upon the high seas had taken place, the last prize had 
 been brought in. The roar of battle would never again 
 reach those whose ears were once more attuned to the 
 rush of the mighty cataract of Niagara. 
 
 '' Your Uncle Tom wanted me to sell out up here and 
 settle down near him," Captain Reyburn told his daugh- 
 ter, ''but I have never seen a spot that suits me so well 
 in all my travels." 
 
 " There was never so lovely a country," returned 
 Marianne, enthusiastically. " Where is there anything 
 so grand as our Falls, and where will you see such 
 color as in our river and lake } Who can show us finer 
 scenery .? No, no, I am glad to live and die here." 
 
 They had taken a ride up to the Falls and were look- 
 ing at the marvellous greens and blues in the water 
 below them. " I feel very much as if I had been in the 
 Whirlpool rapids myself," said Marianne. " Ah, father 
 
 302 
 
PEACE 303 
 
 dear, what a terrible, terrible time it has been. I think 
 while I live I never can blot out that day when our home 
 was burned." 
 
 Her father looked grave. " I haven't paid my debt 
 to that young man yet, and I don't suppose I shall ever 
 be able to do it. I wish you would find out if there's 
 anything in the world I can do for him. He was your 
 brother's friend, and so he has more than one claim on 
 me. I suppose you don't know what he intends to do 
 with himself now that the war is over." 
 
 A lovely color flushed Marianne's face. " He says 
 his grandfather has decided to remain in Montreal, and 
 he wanted Jack to remain with him there, but Jack 
 didn't care to do it He loves our Niagara country as 
 much as we do." 
 
 " I don't blame him, then, for wanting to stay. Will 
 he go back to the old place ? " 
 
 " No, it is to be sold, or has been already, so Kate 
 tells me. Major Silverthorn owned half of it, and the 
 rest goes to his son's children, Kate and Sue and 
 Jack." 
 
 Mr. Reyburn smiled. " I can't get over your letting 
 Fred Lyle shp you," he said jokingly. 
 
 " Ah, but you see he would have taken me to Ken- 
 tucky ; and how would you have liked that } " 
 
 "I didn't think of that part of it. Well, he is 
 happy; he got the girl he wanted, I reckon." 
 
304 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 "Yes, I am sure of that." 
 
 They mounted their horses and rode slowly back. 
 This was their first day in the new home, but before 
 they had quite reached it they met Jack. 
 
 *' I came over to see the new house," he announced. 
 " I got back last night. Kate said you would be in con- 
 dition to receive callers to-day. It is quite an affair. 
 Shall you build a barn. Captain ? " 
 
 '' Yes, I shall have to, for I am going to work for 
 a good crop, and I hope I shall need it. Then we'll 
 have to have another husking-bee, Marianne." 
 
 " But alas, I fear we should have a slim attend- 
 ance." 
 
 '' That is a fact ; the thing we are most in need 
 of is neighbors." 
 
 •' I was thinking of becoming a neighbor myself," 
 said Jack. '' I must settle somewhere." 
 
 *' You couldn't find a better place," said Captain 
 Reyburn, heartily. "We'll try to be neighborly. 
 But then you'll have to become an American citizen, 
 if you're this side the river." 
 
 " I don't think that need matter now, sir. I did 
 my duty when I was called upon, and I don't think 
 it makes any difference since the war is over. Most 
 of my friends have left the other side of the river, 
 and there are rather sad memories connected with 
 the old place. I shouldn't care to live there again, 
 
PEACE 305 
 
 and I shouldn't care to live anywhere else, if I must 
 settle over there." 
 
 ''Then come and make yourself a home next to 
 us. I will sell you a good piece of land at your own 
 price. What do you say ^ " 
 
 " That's a very kind offer, Captain, and I appreci- 
 ate it, I assure you, but I'd like to think about it." 
 He glanced quickly at Marianne as he spoke. She 
 had dismounted, and Jack was leading her horse 
 while she walked by his side. 
 
 " I owe you a debt I can never repay," Captain 
 Reyburn continued. " You saved my girl's life, and 
 if there's anything in the world I can do for you, 
 Jack, you have but to tell me. But I must be get- 
 ting along. If you two like to take a slower way of 
 getting home, just take your time. Don't forget 
 that's a standing offer about the land." 
 
 "But, Captain, the debt — " Jack began. But Cap- 
 tain Reyburn was already too far ahead to hear. 
 
 " What were you going to say ? " Marianne asked 
 him. 
 
 They were standing still, the horse cropping the 
 young grass at their feet. 
 
 " I didn't want him to think that he was under 
 such a weight of obligation after what you did for 
 me. I wanted him to know that the debt is cancelled." 
 
 " Oh, you goose ! " returned Marianne. And then 
 
3o6 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 Jack suddenly understood why she did not want it 
 known that she had lessened that debt. 
 
 He dropped the horse's bridle, and let the crea- 
 ture nibble at will. *' Marianne, Marianne," he said, 
 seizing her hands, " is that why you did not want it 
 known .'' Did you think of it so long ago ? What a 
 stupid dolt I am." 
 
 " Did I think of what ? Did you hear father say 
 that if you wanted anything you were to tell him ? 
 What shall you ask for ? I think he would use his 
 influence with Mr. Ashman if you are thinking of 
 asking for Minerva's hand. I hear the family have 
 returned." 
 
 " Marianne, darling, will you let me ask for what 
 I most want .'^ Will he give it to me, do you think.'*" 
 Jack went on, paying no heed to her teasing. 
 
 " If he wants to save my life, he will," Marianne 
 answered, half laughing, half crying. 
 
 ''Are you joking.? Do you mean it.-* Will you be 
 glad to have me for a neighbor ? Ah, Marianne, 
 Marianne, one day, long ago, I looked up at your 
 dear face watching me from the little cabin window, 
 and I thought then how gladly, how joyfully, I would 
 make a home for you, and work all my days for you 
 if you would but love me a little, and now, how 
 dear such a home would be with you in it. May I 
 build it for you, Marianne ? " 
 
PEACE 307 
 
 "Perhaps. Some day. Not yet, oh, no, not yet." 
 *'Why not yet.?" 
 
 " You will have to prove yourself a good American 
 by a certain length of residence ; you will have to do 
 
 — oh, many things. I believe it was nothing in the 
 world but my flag that induced you to consider set- 
 tling this side the river. You owe your life to it, as 
 I told you, and you cannot do less than acknowledge 
 its power." 
 
 *' You are a tease, Marianne." 
 "And so are you." 
 
 " I confess it. I have something else to confess. 
 That day, when the flag protected me, you know, I 
 
 — wasn't altogether unconscious all the time. " 
 
 The color flamed up into Marianne's face. " Jack 
 Silverthorn, all this time ! You mean — mean — 
 cheating — " 
 
 Jack put his arms around her. " Forgive me, dear 
 girl." 
 
 " Go away. I don't want to speak to you." 
 
 " I didn't hear everything, I am quite positive," 
 Jack went on apologetically, " only a very little ; but 
 that — oh, Marianne, are you so ashamed of it.? It 
 has made me so happy, and has made me content to 
 wait till I could have a little hope that your father 
 would consent to let me marry you some day. If it 
 was true what you said, you cannot mind that it 
 
308 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 made me happy ; and you said, a little while ago, 
 that if your father wanted to save your life, and all 
 that — " 
 
 *' I didn't mean it ; I was only joking. I told you 
 long ago we could only be friends." 
 
 Jack looked very miserable. "Then I was dream- 
 ing. Very well, Marianne, I am sorry I didn't 
 understand that it was only a dream, or that in your 
 excitement you said what, in your calmer moments, 
 you would deny. You didn't really care, and that is 
 all ; or else, though you might have cared for me a 
 Httle then, you do not now. I cannot help loving 
 you, but I will go back to Montreal, I think." 
 
 Marianne turned swiftly. '' No, no, you shall not. 
 I am a horrid wretch, and you are much too good 
 for me — for a silly thing like me. I meant it all, 
 every word. There, is that enough, sir.-' Is it.?" 
 
 "It is enough, dearest, best beloved. It is every- 
 thing. Why were you so cruel .'' How could you 
 have the heart ? " 
 
 " Because I am so very silly. You will think so 
 when I tell you. I didn't mean you should know. 
 I wanted you to tell me all over again. It has been 
 a long time since you did, till to-day. I wanted to 
 wait till I thought my father would say just what 
 he has said, and then I would tell you to go and 
 ask him ; and some day I meant to tell you myself 
 
PEACE 309 
 
 about that dreadful day when I said those things, 
 and thought you didn't hear." 
 
 " I will tell you all over again, and I will ask 
 your father very properly. I love you as my life, 
 Marianne. I love you with all my heart. Some day 
 will you say those words you said that day.'"' 
 
 '' I forget what I said." 
 
 He drew her nearer to him, and whispered, " You 
 said, ' Jack, my dearest, my only love, don't die.' " 
 
 *'Did I say all that.?" she whispered back. *'You 
 must have heard every word." 
 
 " Won't you say it over so you won't forget ? 
 Won't you, Marianne } " 
 
 She stood without speaking, suddenly shy. Then 
 it came over her that he had been so willing to give 
 his love in full measure, he had never withheld one 
 tithe of it from her, and then he was no more 
 her enemy than she was his, and she whispered, half 
 laughing, ''Jack, my dearest, my only love, don't 
 die." 
 
 " I won't if I can help it," he returned, laughing, 
 too, " I promise you I'll try not. Do you know the 
 apple trees are all in blossom again .? Have you for- 
 gotten a day — " 
 
 "How you do remind one of humiliating things." 
 
 *'To me they are the joys of my life, the happiest 
 memories I could possess. There, we are in sight of 
 
310 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 your house. See the apple trees, they are covered 
 with blooms. For the sake of that parting, Mari- 
 anne — " 
 
 '' Oh, are you going ? I didn't know it was good- 
 by. I thought — " 
 
 "I am not going; I have to tell your father what 
 I want before I can think of going." 
 
 " Then, of course, since it isn't good-by — you 
 know — I couldn't — " 
 
 " Let it be a parting from our old trials and tribula- 
 tions, from all uncertainty and despair. Marianne — " 
 
 She did not resist as his head bent lower, but, as 
 before, it was the fleetest kiss she gave him, and 
 then she ran from him to the house to seek — strange 
 to say, not her mother, but Jerusha. '' Oh, Jerusha, 
 Jerusha," she whispered, hiding her hot face on Jeru- 
 sha's shoulder, "Jack, you know — Jack — " 
 
 Jerusha patted her awkwardly, but a sly smile 
 broke over her face. " Why yes, Mary Ann, I 
 know Jack. What about him ? " 
 
 " He's going to build a house, and — " 
 
 " I don't see anything remarkable in that, that it 
 should set you all of a quiver." 
 
 '* No, not that — but — there is something more 
 remarkable." 
 
 "Well, out with it." Jerusha was merciless. 
 
 Down w^ent the head again. " He's going to build 
 
PEACE 311 
 
 it for me," she whispered, and Jerusha laughed. But 
 she gave a sigh a minute after and bestowed a 
 trembhng kiss upon Marianne's cheek. '' God bless 
 you, child," she said ; '^ there ain't nawthing like 
 honest love. I guess you've airnt it. It's come to 
 you at the right time, and I'm glad for you. They 
 say they ain't no marrying and giving in marriage in 
 heaven, but the' ain't a word said about the' being 
 no loving." Marianne lifted her head, and softly 
 kissed the sunburnt face. Jerusha went to the door, 
 and looked out at the bloom-sweet orchard. '' Asa 
 Peaslee's taken a shine to that little old cabin in the 
 woods," she said, in an altered tone. " He's bought 
 it off the folks that owned it ; they ain't coming 
 back." 
 
 " I am glad Asa is going to have it. I have an 
 affection for that little old cabin. Poor Asa, his 
 lame leg will prevent him from going back to his 
 peddling, I am afraid. Is he going to live there 
 alone ? " 
 
 Jerusha did not answer for a moment, then she 
 said, in a hard way, " He wanted I should come and 
 keep house for him." 
 
 " Oh, Jerusha, Jerusha ! And are you going ? Do 
 you mean to leave us ? " 
 
 " No, marm, I ain't. I'm nobody's fool. I had a 
 real hankering arter them leach pits and my old 
 
312 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 soap kittle, but when I considered what went with 
 'em I give 'em up right wilHngly." 
 
 ''Asa is very handy; I think he will get along 
 without a wife." 
 
 "Can't say. Men's terrible onsartin critturs. You 
 can't expect much of 'em, even the best among 'em. 
 The heart of man is deceitful above all things and 
 desperately wicked." 
 
 " O, dear me, Jerusha, how discouraging. I shall 
 not stay to listen to such remarks." 
 
 "You'd better go," returned Jerusha, half mali- 
 ciously; "here's your father looking fur you; he's 
 called you twicet." 
 
 Marianne started back, then she gave an embarrassed 
 laugh and said to herself, " There's no use putting it 
 off; I might as well be over with it." She ran out at 
 once to meet her father, and they sat down together 
 upon a pile of logs left from the building. 
 
 " Look here, young woman," said Captain Rey- 
 burn. "how old are you.?" 
 
 " I am almost twenty years old, sir." 
 
 He looked at her in surprise. " Goodness, child, I 
 can't believe it. I thought you were about seventeen." 
 
 " I was about that when the war broke out." 
 
 "That's it; the war made me forget. Why, you're 
 two years older than your mother was when I 
 married her." 
 
PEACE 313 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 *' What about this young fellow, Jack ? He's asked 
 me for a pretty big thing in payment of my debt of 
 obligation." 
 
 " Not very big, sir, only five feet one and a half." 
 
 " You minx, I see you are in the game. You want 
 to leave your old dad, do you .'' Just as he has you 
 back again ? " 
 
 " Oh, no, I don't, not for a long, long while. And 
 besides, you didn't mind my going to Kentucky with 
 Cousin Fred." 
 
 " You've got me there, haven't you. How about 
 your grandmother's plan for you and Victor.? No 
 entanglement there ? " 
 
 " No, sir, that was over long ago. I think grand'- 
 mere has other plans for Victor, and besides, I 
 should be nearer you on this side the river." 
 
 "That's so. I've as good as sold Jack a hundred 
 acres, at least — but we'll talk about that later. I 
 thought you were too good an American to marry a 
 man who'd fight against your country." 
 
 " I'd rather marry a man that was brave and hon- 
 est and true to his own country when he thought she 
 needed him, than one like Victor, who wouldn't fight 
 at all. Besides, Jack is going to be an American. 
 I would never, never live anywhere but under the 
 Stars and Stripes." 
 
314 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 "That's right all around. He won't have to go 
 far back to establish his claim to being an American; 
 his father was born in the States." 
 
 "Yes, and besides, his sister Sue has married a 
 Kentuckian." 
 
 "Yes, I see. Well then, little girl, I reckon that 
 hundred acres has got to go for a wedding present, 
 and we'll get Kate and the boy over here to take 
 your place, for I don't see but that we've got to let 
 you go ; it won't do to keep the young man waiting 
 too long for a home. I like the boy ; and because a 
 man fought on the other side is no reason he can't 
 be honest and straightforward and manly. I learned 
 that up in Quebec, where I have some good friends 
 this minute, for all they wore the king's uniform while 
 I was a prisoner at their mercy. We'll agree to bury 
 the hatchet, and I guess there will be no quarreUing 
 over politics. I think Jack will be good to my little 
 girl, and it is worth everything to have her close by. 
 Come now, kiss your old dad, and run along and 
 tell mother." 
 
 Marianne was not slow to give him all the kisses 
 he wanted, and he watched her graceful figure as it 
 disappeared into the house ; then he turned away with 
 a sigh. "We'll have to get Kate and the baby over 
 here," he said. 
 
 But, as Marianne said, grand'mere had her own 
 
PEACE 315 
 
 plans. To let that baby go was something not to be 
 thought of. She realized it, yes, of course it was 
 the right of the Reyburns to care for Kate and her 
 child, but she confided to Victor they would all be 
 desolated without that baby. She perceived that to 
 a young man of Victor's sensibility the spectacle of a 
 young mother and her child was one of unusual beauty ; 
 and then Kate was a superior woman, so sweet of 
 soul, so good to have around one. She did not wish 
 to depreciate Marianne, whom she loved, she idolized, 
 but it would be cruel to deprive her parents of their 
 only child, and Victor had not seemed of late so 
 charmed to consider the old plan. It was not that 
 Marianne had less charm, but that the young mother 
 and child had more, — so pathetic, so appealing to a 
 young man of good heart. *'Yes, Victor, you see," 
 she went on to say, "that it would be of all things 
 the most dehghtful. Royal's son is provided for at 
 the same time that you are. Victorine, our saint, 
 has still her dot, though she will not have her hus- 
 band ; she does not wish one, our poor Victorine. 
 She adores the child. Then how cruel to deprive 
 her of this joy. You see, Victor, my wish.?" 
 
 " I see, maman ; but you do not consider Kate. For 
 me, I am more than content. It is, as you say, a 
 beautiful sight,— the mother and her young child. It 
 fills me with holy thoughts, but I do not know if she 
 
3i6 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 would consent? Her heart is there buried in the 
 grave of her husband." 
 
 " Patience, my son, patience. You have that rare 
 virtue, which is not that of every man. Already I see 
 her depend upon you, look up to you, confide in you. 
 In good time, perhaps not the love she gave to Royal, 
 but affection, yes, affection. She is too sweet a nature 
 not to make happy the man she marries. Yes, yes, I 
 see it will all come about in time. She will not reject 
 you after a while." 
 
 It was when Marianne came to tell Kate that she 
 had decided upon her wedding-day that she first per- 
 ceived that it might be possible for grand'mere's plan 
 to come about. In her own heart Marianne had hoped 
 that it would. It seemed so good an arrangement, 
 even Mr. Reyburn agreed when his wife told him, and 
 he entered into the conspiracy by not demanding that 
 Madame should give up Kate and the baby. Kate 
 herself was the only one who was oblivious of it all. 
 She was relieved that they did not insist upon her 
 changing her home. She was very content, even 
 happy, where she was. They loved her dearly ; they 
 were so good to her ; they were less strangers than the 
 Reyburns. It was now over two years since she had 
 become a widow, and in two years a home can become 
 much more a home. 
 
 She greeted Marianne's news joyfully. " I am so 
 
PEACE 317 
 
 glad," she said. " Dear old Jack, he is the happiest 
 mortal alive. It does one good to see his sunny face. 
 And when is it to be ? " 
 
 "On the Fourth of July," returned Marianne, tri- 
 umphantly. 
 
 Kate laughed. " Oh, you most patriotic of maidens, 
 you give poor Jack no chance." 
 
 "No," Marianne laughed, "I don't intend to. I 
 mean that he shall always celebrate the day. There 
 are more reasons than one why he is perfectly con- 
 tented to be married on the Fourth. Jack is very 
 sentimental, if you did but know it, and he has reason 
 to remember more than one Fourth of July, he says. 
 There is an American flag which belongs to me. We 
 shall be married under that ; he loves it and I love it, 
 and we shall keep it treasured always. I will tell you 
 why, some day, when I am an old married woman." 
 
 "You do love Jack very dearly, don't you.?" said 
 Kate, wistfully. 
 
 " I do love him very, very dearly," Marianne an- 
 swered steadily. " He is much too good for me, but I 
 hope I shall grow better and wiser as I grow older; 
 there is room for it," she said lightly, to cover her real 
 earnestness. " You will all come in your best bibs and 
 tuckers. You must have a pretty new white gown, 
 Kate. I want it to be a happy day for every- 
 body." 
 
3i8 A LOYAL LASS 
 
 Kate sat thoughtful over her sewing. " Will it be a 
 happy day for Victor ? " she asked hesitatingly. 
 
 " For Victor } Oh, Kate, you don't think — why, that 
 was over long ago. We were never lovers at the best ; 
 it was only make beHeve, because grand'mere wanted it. 
 Did you think — why, Kate, don't you know — " 
 She looked at her with an amused, half surprised 
 expression, and then ran out, saying, " I must tell my 
 news to the others." 
 
 She found that Jack was before her so far as Victor 
 was concerned, but she drew the latter aside and said, 
 " You might be as happy as we are if you were not as 
 bHnd as a mole, you slow old Victor." 
 
 "What do you mean.?" asked Victor, showing more 
 eagerness than was his wont. 
 
 "There's such a thing as being too patient," Mari- 
 anne returned, nodding her head wisely. "There is 
 Kate coming this way; go and meet her, and — " 
 
 But this time Victor was not dull of comprehension. 
 He walked off with a great leap at his heart, for she 
 who was coming was the one woman in the world to 
 him at that moment. 
 
 Marianne turned to Jack. " There is a little tinkhng 
 brook over there in the woods. I used to sail chips 
 there when I was a little child." Jack looked at her 
 with appreciative eyes. It was not the memory of 
 her childhood which made hers so sweetly moist ; the 
 
PEACE 
 
 319 
 
 little brook had other associations, he well knew. He 
 took her hand in his, and together they walked slowly 
 down the path to the woods. 
 
 Victorine sat at the door ; in her lap lay the sleeping 
 boy, one chubby hand clasping her fingers. She sang 
 softly to him a quaint old French lullaby. She saw 
 Victor lead Kate down the orchard lane, to where stood 
 Httle Madame Desvouges in bright-eyed expectation. 
 She saw Marianne and Jack saunter off together, so 
 engrossed in each other that the world seemed to hold 
 but the two. As in a vision the coming years passed 
 before her. For Victor and Kate, for Marianne and 
 Jack, would be hope and home and wedded love. She 
 looked down at the child upon her knees. To her God 
 had given Royal's boy.