rival in swiftness the old natural methods of spreading a piece of
welcome news through a New England countryside. Men called to each
other from field to field, and shouted to strangers outward bound on the
road; women ran smiling from house to house among the Berwick farms. It
was known by mid-morning of a day late in October that Madam
Wallingford's brig, the Golden Dolphin, had got into Portsmouth lower
harbor the night before. Madam Wallingford herself was on board and
well, with her son and Miss Mary Hamilton. They were all coming up the
river early that very evening, with the flood tide.
The story flew through the old Piscataqua plantations, on both sides of
the river, that Major Langdon himself had taken boat at once and gone
down to Newcastle to meet the brig, accompanied by many friends who were
eager to welcome the home-comers. There were tales told of a great
wedding at Hamilton's within a month's time, though word went with these
tales, of the lieutenant's forced leave of absence, some said his
discharge, by reason of his wounds and broken health.
Roger Wallingford was bringing dispatches to Congress from the
Commissioners in France. It was all a mistake that he had tried to
betray his ship, and now there could be no one found who had ever really
believed such a story, or even thought well of others who were so
foolish as to repeat it. They all knew that it was Dickson who was
openly disgraced, instead, and had now escaped from justice, and those
who had once inclined to excuse him and to admire his shrewdness
willingly consented to applaud such a long-expected downfall.
The evening shadows had begun to gather at the day's end, when they saw
the boat come past the high pines into the river bay below Hamilton's.
The great house was ready and waiting; the light of the western sky
shone upon its walls, and a cheerful warmth and brightness shone
everywhere within. There was a feast made ready that might befit the
wedding itself, and eager hands were waiting to serve it. On the
terrace by the southern door stood Colonel Hamilton, who was now at home
from the army, and had ridden in haste from Portsmouth that day, at
noon, to see that everything was ready for his sister's coming. There
were others with him, watching for the boat: the minister all in silver
and black, Major Haggens, with his red cloak and joyful countenance, the
good old judge, and Master Sullivan, with his stately white head.
Within the house were many ladies, old and young. Miss Nancy Haggens had
braved the evening air for friendship's sake, and sat at a riverward
window with other turbaned heads of the Berwick houses, to wait for
Madam Wallingford. There was a pretty flock of Mary Hamilton's friends:
Miss Betsey Wyat and the Lords of the Upper Landing, Lymans and Saywards
of old York, and even the pretty Blunts from Newcastle, who were guests
at the parsonage near by. It was many a month since there had been
anything so gay and happy as this night of Mary's coming home.
Major Langdon's great pleasure boat, with its six oarsmen, was moving
steadily on the flood, and yet both current and tide seemed hindering to
such impatient hearts. All the way from Portsmouth there had been
people standing on the shores to wave at them and welcome them as they
passed; the light was fast fading in the sky; the evening chill and thin
autumn fog began to fall on the river. At last Roger and Mary could see
the great house standing high and safe in its place, and point it out to
Madam Wallingford, whose face wore a touching look of gratitude and
peace; at last they could see a crowd of people on the lower shore.
The rowers did their best; the boat sped through the water. It was only
half dark, but some impatient hand had lit the bonfires; the company of
gentlemen were coming down already through the terraced garden to the
water-side.
"Oh, Mary, Mary," Roger Wallingford was whispering, "I have done nothing
that I hoped to do!" But she hushed him, and her hand stole into his.
"We did not think, that night when we parted, we should be coming home
together; we did not know what lay before us," he said with sorrow.
"No, dear, I have done nothing; but, thank God, I am alive to love you,
and to serve my country to my life's end."
Mary could not speak; she was too happy and too thankful. All her own
great love and perfect happiness were shining in her face.
"I am thinking of the captain," she said gently, after a little silence.
"You know how he left us when we were so happy, and slipped away alone
into the dark without a word....
"Oh, look, Madam!" she cried then. "Our friends are all there; they are
all waiting for us! I can see dear Peggy with her white apron, and your
good Rodney! Oh, Roger, the dear old master is there, God bless him!
They are all well and alive. Thank God, we are at home!"
They rose and stood together in the boat, hand in hand. In another
moment the boat was at the landing place, and they had stepped ashore.
The Riverside Press
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