THE ALARM.
"It's ten o'clock already!" exclaimed Mrs. Cornwallis as she finished her
bath. "But everything is in perfect order now except ourselves. There's
that dreadful cannon again! It made _me_ shiver this time." Then she added
anxiously, "Where's Laurens? Have you heard him come in? I never knew him
to stay out so long."
"No, I haven't," replied Ruth, taking the alarm. "Please help me on with
my dress and I'll go after him."
"He must be having a high time with his new kite this morning," said Mrs.
Cornwallis as she put on Ruth's pretty white frock. "Here, wait a moment,
then you can stay out with him as long as you like."
She tied the blue sash into a graceful knot and fastened a cluster of red
roses on her corsage with a resolute hand, for she would not believe that
any harm had befallen her boy.
Ruth hastened out and Mrs. Cornwallis proceeded to finish her own toilet.
A few moments afterwards she was smiling at her foolish fears and saying
to herself, they are having a lovely time now, playing together-the
blessed children!
She was going to wear white, pure white just as she did when she was
married, but she had a red, white and blue knot for her throat and she was
fastening it on with a sapphire brooch that belonged to the same set of
the sapphire buttons with which she had fastened little Lauren's George
Washington ruff, when Ruth burst into the room, crying:
"O mamma! mamma! I can't see him anywhere."
"I've looked all over the field! I've called and called but he did not
answer! O! he's lost! he's lost!"
"No! No! Ruth. He must be somewhere about the premises." Hand in hand they
went all over the house and grounds, but they did not find him.
"O I'm so afraid," sobbed Ruth! "Where shall we look now?"
"Perhaps he had trouble with his kite and went over to Ralph Norwood's to
have him fix it. He did that way with papa last year. We will go and see
what he thinks about it."
Mr. Cornwallis was of his wife's opinion.
"Don't be frightened," he said. "Go home and look the premises over again
and wait for him there while I go to Norwoods."
The Norwoods lived at the opposite end of the town fully a mile away. The
most direct course ran through the public square. Mr. Cornwallis went on
in that direction, making his way as rapidly as possible through streets
that were already strewn with firecrackers and torpedoes. It seemed to him
that he had never before seen so many of all sorts and sizes in the town
of Killsbury. Wherever there was a boy there was a fusilade of the
evil-smelling things. Wherever there were several boys, small cannons and
cartridges added to the noise and danger. Was it his anxiety about his own
boy that made it seem so much worse than ever before, or was it a day of
unusual horror in Killsbury? When he reached the Public Square the
question was answered. The scene beggared description. The air was full of
stench, smoke, hisses, cries of fright, hurt and brutal laughter. Horses,
dogs and babies were fired at indiscriminately. It seemed as though all
the boys in Killsbury and the surrounding country must have assembled
there and were trying to do their worst--as though they had made a
concerted attempt to seize the Public Square in army fashion and fire upon
every one who attempted to enter it from any of the streets; for squads of
them stood at every corner.
Mr. Cornwallis saw that it would be impossible to cross the square safely
and he was in haste to reach Norwoods' and find out if his boy were
there. His boy! Had not a monster seized the town and swallowed up his
boy already? He pushed his way desperately to a side street hoping to
avoid further delay. As he turned the corner he saw a large load of people
headed for the square. He looked again and recognized the Rundels--a
family of hard working farmers--eleven in all, counting the aged
grandfather and grandmother and an uncle and aunt. They were accustomed to
driving into town on Independence Day to help celebrate and have a little
pleasant diversion. They were in holiday mood and array and were coming on
at a lively pace.
"Good God!" exclaimed Cornwallis, "It will not do for them to drive into
that infernal place."
He ran after them and called on them to stop; but he called in vain. They
were on a down hill grade and before the driver could check the horses, a
fusilade of fireworks struck them and they rushed madly into the square.
Women with young children sought refuge in the nearest shops. Men and boys
fell over each other, trying to get out of the way of the infuriated
beasts. The helpless family by some sort of loving instinct huddled
together in the bottom of the staunch old hayrack--the children and
grandparents in the center and the others on the outside encircling them
with their strong arms. When the crash came, which was caused by running
against the town pump, they were all thrown out in a heap, the horses
wheeled about and stood gazing at them apparently aghast at the deed they
had helped to commit.
Fortunately, none of them were killed. One of the girls had a sprained
wrist, one of the boys a sprained ankle, the aunt a dislocated shoulder,
and the father and mother were badly bruised; but after the cheering
report of the Doctor, they inclined to take their misfortunes resignedly
and thank the Lord they were no worse--quite as though they had been
necessary martyrs to the noble cause of American freedom, instead of the
sport of mischievous boys, and victims of an outrageous custom.
"O! what a terrible world this is getting to be! Too terrible for any
innocent child to live in," Mr. Cornwallis repeated to himself again and
again as he continued his way to the Norwoods'. Without being distinctly
conscious of it he was preparing himself for the disappointment and grief
which awaited him.
Laurens had not been there and they had seen nothing of him.
"Come with me, Ralph, and help me find him. It's a terrible day down
town."
"So Police Haggard told father. I'll go and see if he can help us. He has
just driven in the stable with his horse."
He returned, saying that his father would drive over to the cottage and
see if Laurens had returned and if not he would see Haggard and have a
regular search instituted.
"But the Police are in full force at the Square and a horse is not safe in
the street."
"Never fear, he will manage with gentle Bess. He thinks we had better go
back by the river. He may have been chasing his kite and--"
Ralph broke off crying, "O I shall never forgive myself if the kite has
been the cause of his death."
They hastened on making inquiries of everybody they met. They met Dr.
Muelenberg as they were turning from the road to go down the bank.
"O Doctor! do you know?" gasped Mr. Cornwallis.
"Yes, yes, I just came from your house to hunt for him. I went there to
celebrate his birthday and the dear little fellow was not there. We must
look well to the river."
They started down the bank.
"O the kite, the kite!" exclaimed Ralph! "See! see! over there by the pine
trees! Perhaps he was tired of chasing it and has fallen asleep!"
He rushed on crying "Laurens! Laurens wake up! wake up!"
The next moment he stumbled over a strange distorted, discolored figure.
When the Doctor and Mr. Cornwallis came up he stood looking at it in a
dazed way.
"It can't be Laurens! It can't be possible he could be so changed! Tell me
it can't, Doctor," he pleaded.
The Doctor shook his head. "Not a trace! Not a feature! It may be some
other boy, but how shall we decide?"
"God only knows," said Mr. Cornwallis turning away from the unbearable
sight.
The Doctor drew nearer as he felt it his duty to do, and looked at the
frightful figure more closely.
"If it's your son, Mr. Cornwallis, perhaps you will know him by some mark.
I think the back of the head has not been much burned. I see the remnant
of a cap."
He paused a moment to gather new courage. Then he raised the head and
removed the bit of cap. Underneath it were Laurens' beautiful curls!
Ralph fainted and the two men fell upon the ground, clutching each other
in agony.
"Mien Gott! Mien Gott," exclaimed Dr. Muelenberg at last. "You have one
thing to be thankful for. Death was instantaneous. He was not saved to die
in the awful toils of _Tetanus_."