The girl coloured, but replied, "Yes."

"I'll teach him ter have done with his cutty-eyed tricks,"

roared Phil, doubling up his fists, and turning, "I'll--"

"Mr. Hennion!" exclaimed the girl, her cheeks gone very

white. "You gave me your word that--"

"I never gave no word 'bout not threshing the lick."

"Most certainly you did, for you--you would have to tell

him before--and if you do that, I'll--"

"But, Miss Janice, you must n't disgrace--Damn him!

Then Bagby wasn't lyin' when he told me how there 'd been

talk at the tavern of his bundlin' with you."

For a moment Janice stood speechless, everything about her

suggesting the shame she was enduring. "He--he never

said that!" she panted more than spoke, as if she had ceased

to breathe.

"I told Bagby if he said that he was lyin'; but after--"

"Mr. Hennion, do you intend to insult me as well?"

"No, no, Miss Janice. I don't believe it. 'T was a lie for

certain, and I'm ashamed ter have spoke of it."

With unshed tears of mortification in her eyes Janice turned

to go, every other ill forgotten in this last grief.

"Miss Janice," called Phil, "you can't go without--"

The girl faced about. "You men are all alike," she cried,

interrupting. "You tease and worry and torture a girl you

pretend to care for, till 't is past endurance. I hate you, and

before I'll--"

"Now, Miss Janice, say you'll not run off with him. I'll

--I'll try ter do as you ask, if only you--"

"So long as you--as you don't--don't bother me, I

won't," promised Janice; "but the instant--"

And leaving the sentence thus broken, the girl left Philemon,

and fled to her room.

XVII

IN THE NAME OF LIBERTY

The scheme devised by Janice to keep Philemon

at arm's length would hardly have succeeded for

long, had not the squire been so preoccupied with

the election and with the now active farm work

that he paid little heed to the course of true love. Poor

Phil was teased by him now and again for his "offishness;"

but Janice carefully managed that their interviews were not

held in the presence of her parents, and so the elders did not

come to a realising sense of the condition, but really believed

that the courtship was advancing with due progress to the port

of matrimony.

Though this was a respite to Janice, she herself knew that

it was at best the most temporary of expedients, and that

the immediate press of affairs once over, her marriage with

Philemon was sure to be pushed to a conclusion. Already her

mother's discussions of clothes, of linen, and of furniture were

constant reminders of its imminence, and the mere fact that

the servants of Greenwood and the neighbourhood accepted

the matter as settled, made allusions to it too frequent for

Janice not to feel that her bondage was inevitable. A dozen

times a day the girl would catch her breath or pale or flush over

the prospect before her, frightened, as the bird in the net, not

so much by the present situation, as by what the future was

certain to bring to pass.

A still more serious matter was further to engross her parents'

thoughts. One evening late in April, as the squire sat

on the front porch resting from his day's labour, Charles, who

had been sent to the village on some errand, came cantering

up the road, and drew rein opposite.

"Have better care how ye ride that filly, sir," said the

squire, sharply. "I'll not have her wind broke by hard

riding."

"I know enough of horses to do her no harm," answered

the man, dismounting easily and gracefully; "and if I rode a

bit quick, 't is because I've news that needs wings."

"What's to do?" demanded the master, laying down the

"Rivington's Royal Gazette" he had been reading.

"As I was buying the nails," replied the servant, speaking

with obvious excitement, "Mr. Bissel rode up to the tavern

with a letter from the Massachusetts Committee of Safety to

the southward; and as 't was of some moment, while he baited,

I took a copy of it." The groom held out a paper, his hand

shaking a little in his excitement, and with an eager look on

his face he watched the squire read the following:--

Water Town Wednesday Morning near 11 of Clock.

To all friends of american liberty, be it known, that this

morning before break of day, a Brigade, consisting of about

1,000 or 1,200 Men, landed at Phipp's Farm at Cambridge

and marched to Lexington, where they found a Company of

our Militia in Arms, upon whom they fired without any provocation

and killed 6 Men & wounded 4 others--By an express

from Boston we find another Brigade are now upon

their march from Boston, supposed to be about 1,000--The

bearer Israel Bissel is charged to alarm the Country quite to

Connecticut; and all Persons are desired to furnish him with

fresh Horses, as they may be needed--I have spoken with

several, who have seen the dead & wounded.

J. Palmer one of the Committee of safety.

Forwarded from Worcester April 19, 1775.

Brooklyn--Thursday 11 o Clock

Norwich 4 o Clock

New London 7 o Clock

Lynne--Friday Morning 1 o Clock

Say Brook 4 o Clock

Shillingsworth 7 o Clock

E. Gillford 8 o Clock

Guilford 10 o Clock

Bradford 12 o Clock

New Haven--April 21

Recd & fowarded on certain Intelligence

Fairfield April 22d 8 o Clock

New York Committee Chamber 4 o Clock

23d April 1775 P. M.

Recd the within Acct by Express, forwd by Express to

N Brunswick with directions to stop at Elizabeth Town &

acquaint the Committee there with the foregoing particulars by

order

J. S. Low, Chairman.

"Huh!" grunted the squire. "I said the day would come

when British regulars would teach the scamps a lesson. The

rapscallions are getting their bellyful, no doubt; 't is to be

hoped that it will bring law and quiet once again in the land."

"'T will more likely be the match that fires the mine.

You've little idea, Mr. Meredith, how strong and universal

the feeling is against Great Britain."

"'T is not as strong as British bayonets, that ye may tie to,

fellow."

The servant shook his head doubtfully. "'T will take a

long sword to reach this far, and Gage is not the man to

handle it."

"Odd's life!" swore the squire. "What know ye of Gage?

If every covenant man does n't think himself the better of a

major-general or a magistrate!"

"Had you ever made the voyage from England, you 'd

appreciate the difficulties. 'T is as big a military folly to

suppose that if America holds together she can be conquered

by bayonets, as 't is to suppose that she'll allow a rotten Parliament,

three thousand miles away, to rule her."

"Have done with such talk! What does a rogue like ye

know of Parliament, except that it passes the laws ye run

from? 'T is the like of ye--debtors, runaways, and such

trash--that is making all this trouble."

The servant laughed ironically. "Fools do more harm in

the world than knaves."

"What mean ye by that?" demanded the squire, hotly.

"'T is as reasonable to hold the American cause bad because

a few bad men take advantage of it as 't is to blame the flock

of sheep for giving the one wolf his covering. What the

Whigs demand is only what the English themselves fought

for under Pym and Hampden, and to-day, if the words 'Great

Britain' were but inserted in the acts of Parliament of which

America complains, there 'd be one rebellion from Land's End

to Duncansby Head."

"Didst not hear my order to cease such talk?" fumed the

squire. "Go to the stable where ye belong, fellow!"

The man coloured and bit his lip in a manifest attempt to

keep his temper, but he did not move, saying instead, "Mr.

Meredith, wilt please tell me what you paid for my bond?"

"Why ask ye that?"

"If I could pay you the amount--and something over--

wouldst be willing to release me from the covenant?"

"And why should I?" demanded the squire.

The servant hesitated, and then said in a low voice: "As

a gentleman, you must have seen I'm no groom--and think

how it must gall me to serve as one."

"Thou shouldst have thought of that before thou indentured,

rather--"

"I know," burst out the man, "but I was crazed--was

wild with--with a grief that had come to me, and knew not

what I was doing."

"Fudge! No romantics. Every redemptioner would have

it he is a gentleman, when he's only caught the trick by

waiting on them."

"But if I buy my time you--"

"How 'd come ye by the money?"

"I--I think I could get the amount."

"Ay. I doubt not ye know how money 's to be got by

hook or by crook! And no doubt ye want your freedom to

drill more rebels to the king. Ye'll not get it from me, so

there 's an end on 't." With which the squire rose, and

stamped into the hall and then to his office.

Charles stood for a moment looking at the ground, and

then raised his head so quickly that Janice, who had joined

the two during the foregoing dialogue and whose eyes were

upon him, had not time to look away. "Can't you persuade

him to let me go, Miss Janice?" he asked appealingly.

"Why do you want your freedom?" questioned Janice,

letting dignity surrender to curiosity.

"I want to get away from here--to get to a place where

there 's a chance for a quicker death than eating one 's heart

by inches."

"How beautifully he talks!" thought Janice.

"Nor will I bide here to see--to see--" went on the

bondsman, excitedly, "I must run, or I shall end by--'T will

be better to let me go before I turn mad."

"'T is as good as a romance," was Janice's mental opinion.

"How I wish Tibbie was here!"

"'T is no doubt a joke to you--oh! you need not have

avoided me as you've done lately to show me that I was

beneath you. I knew it without that. But who is this put

you are going to marry?"

"Mr. Hennion is of good family," answered Janice, with

Spirit.

"Good family!" laughed the man, bitterly. "No doubt he

is. Think you Phil Hennion is less the clout because he has

a pedigree? There are hogs in Yorkshire can show better

genealogies than royalty."

"'T is quite in keeping that a bond-servant should think

little of blood," retorted Janice, made angry by his open

contempt.

"Blood! Yes, I despise it, and so would you if you knew

it as I do," exclaimed Charles, hotly, cutting the air with his

whip. "That for all the blood in the world, unless there be

honour with it," he said.

"The fox did n't want the grapes."

"'T is no case of sour grapes, as you 'd know if I told you

my story."

"Oh! I should monstrous like to hear it," eagerly ejaculated

Janice.

The man dropped the bridle and came to the porch. "I

swore it should die with me, but there 's one woman in the

world to whom--" he began, and then checked himself as a

figure came into view on the lawn out of the growing darkness.

"Who's there?" Charles demanded.

"It's me--Joe Bagby," was the answer, as that individual

came forward. "Is the squire home, miss?" he asked; and,

receiving the reply that he was in his office, Joe volunteered

the information that a wish to talk with the lord of

Greenwood about the election was the motive of his call. "I

want to see if we can't fix things between us."

Scarcely had he spoken when there was a sudden rush of

men, who seemed to appear from nowhere, and at the same

instant Joe gave a shove to the bond-servant, which, being entirely

unexpected, sent him sprawling on the grass, where he

was pinioned by two of the party.

"Keep your mouth shut, or I'll have to choke you," said

Bagby to Janice, as she opened her mouth to scream. "Two

of you stand by her and keep her quiet. Sharp now, fellows,

he's in his office. Have him out, and some of you start a

fire, quick."

The orders were obeyed with celerity, and as some rushed

into the hall and dragged forth the squire, struggling, the

scene was lighted by the blazing up of a bunch of hay, which

had appeared as if by magic, and on which sticks of wood

were quickly burning. Over the fire a pot, swung on a stick

upheld by two men, was placed, telling a story of intention

only too obvious.

"There is n't any sort of use swearing like that, squire," said

Bagby. "We've got a thing or two to say, and if you won't

listen to it quiet, why, we'll fill your mouth with a lump of tar,

to give you something to chew on while we say it. Cussing

did n't prevent your being a babe in the wood, and it won't

prevent our giving you a bishop's coat; so if you don't want

it, have done, and listen to what we have to propose."

"Well?" demanded the squire.

"We've stood your conduct just as long as it was possible,

squire," went on Bagby, "and been forbearing, hoping you 'd

mend your ways. But it 's no use, and so we've come up this

evening to give you a last chance to put yourself right, for

we're a peace-loving, law-abiding lot, and don't want to use

nothing but moral suasion, as the parson puts it, unless you

make us."

"That 's it. Give it to him, Joe," said some one, approvingly.

"Now that the regulars of old Guelph have begun slaughtering

the sons of liberty, we have decided to put an end to

snakes in the grass, and so you can come to the face-about,

or you can have a coat of tar and a ride on a rail out of the

county. And what 's more, when you 're once out, you 're to

stay out, mind. Which is your choice?"

"What do you want me to do?" demanded the squire,

sullenly.

"First off we're tired of your brag that tea 's drunk on your

table. You 're to give us all you've got, and you 're not to

get any new, whether 't is East India or smuggled."

"I agree to that."

"Secondly," went on Bagby, in a sing-song voice, much as

if he was reading a series of resolutions, "you 're to sign the

Congress Association, and live up to it."

The squire looked to right and left, as if considering some

outlet; but there were men all about him, and after a pause he

merely nodded his head.

"You 're getting mighty reasonable, squire," remarked

Bagby, with a grin. "Lastly, we don't want to be represented

in Assembly by such a king's man, and so you're to decline a

poll."

"If the electors don't want me, let them say so at the

election."

"Some of your tenants are 'feared to vote against you, and

we intend that this election shall be unanimous for the friends

of liberty. Will you decline a poll?"

"Now damn me if--" began the squire.

"Come, come, squire," interrupted an elderly man.

"Yer've stud no chance of election from the fust, so what 's

the use of stickling?"

"I wash my hands of ye," roared the squire. "Have

whom ye want for what ye want. I've done with serving a

lot of ingrates. Ye can come to me in the future on your

knees, but ye'll not get me to--"

"That's just what we wants," broke in Joe. "If you 'd

always been so open to public opinion, we'd have had no

cause for complaint against you. And now, squire, since

a united land is what we wants, while your daughter gets

the tea and a pen to sign the Association, do the thing up

handsome by singing us the liberty song."

"Burn me if I will," cried the owner of Greenwood, like

many another yielding big points without much to-do, but

obstinate over the small ones.

"Is that tar about melted?" inquired Bagby.

"Jest the right consistency, Joe," responded one of the

pole-holders.

"Better sing it, squire," advised Bagby. "We know you 're

not much at a song, but the sentiments is what we like."

Once again the beset man looked to right and left, rage and

mortification united. Then, with a remark below his breath,

he sang in a very tuneless bass, that wandered at will between

flat and sharp, with not a little falsetto:--

"Come join Hand in Hand, brave Americans all,

And rouse your bold Hearts at fair Liberty's Call;

No tyrannous Acts shall suppress your just Claim

Or stain with Dishonour America's Name--

In Freedom we're born and in Freedom we'll live.

Our Purses are ready--

Steady, Friends, Steady--

Not as Slaves, but as Freemen our Money we'll give."

"That 's enough!" remarked the ringleader. "Now,

Watson, let the squire sign that broadside. Take the pot

off, boys, and dump the tea on the fire. Good-evening,

squire, and sweet dreams to you; I hope 't will be long before

you make us walk eight miles again. Fall in, Invincibles.

You've struck your first blow for freedom."

For a moment the steady tramp of the departing men was

all that broke the stillness of the night; but as they marched

they fell into song, and there came drifting back to the trio

standing silent about the porch the air of "Hearts of Oak,"

and the words:--

"Then join Hand in Hand, brave Americans all!

To be free is to live, to be Slaves is to fall;

Has the Land such a Dastard, as scorns not a Lord,

Who dreads not a Fetter much more than a Sword?

In Freedom we're born, and, like Sons of the Brave,

We'll never surrender,

But swear to defend her,

And scorn to survive, if unable to save."

XVIII

FIGUREHEADS AND LEADERS

The squire's mood in the next few days was anything

but genial, and his family, his servants, his farm-hands,

his tenants, and in fact all whom he encountered,

received a share of his spleen.

His ill-nature was not a little increased by hearing indirectly,

through his overseer, that it was the elder Hennion who had

planned the surprise party; and in revenge Mr. Meredith set

about the scheme, already hinted at, of buying assignments of

the mortgages on Boxley. For this purpose he announced

his intention of journeying to New York, and ordered Philemon

to be his travelling companion that he might have the

advantage of his knowledge of the holders of the elder Hennion's

bonds. The would-be son-in-law at first objected to

being made a cat's-paw, but the squire was obstinate, and

after a night upon it, Phil acceded. No other difficulty was

found in the attainment of Mr. Meredith's purpose, the money-lenders

in New York being only too glad, in the growing insecurity

and general suspension of law, to turn their investments

into cash. It was a task of some weeks to gather them all in,

but it was one of the keenest enjoyment to the squire, who

each evening, over his mulled wine in the King's Arms Tavern,

pictured and repictured the moment of triumph, when, with

the growing bundle of mortgages completed, he should ride to

Boxley and inform its occupant that he wished them paid.

"We'll show the old fox that he's got a ferret, not a goose,

to deal with," he said a dozen times to Phil,--a speech which

always made the latter look very uneasy, as if his conscience

were pricking.

This absence of father and lover gave Janice a really restful

breathing space, and it was the least eventful time the girl had

known since the advent of the bondsman nearly a year before.

Even he almost dropped out of the girl's life, for the farm-work

was now at its highest point of activity, and he was little

about house or stable. Furthermore, though twenty thousand

minutemen and volunteers were gathered before Boston, though

the thirteen colonies were aflame with war preparations, and

though the Continental Congress was voting a declaration on

taking up arms and appointing a general, nothing but vague

report of all this reached Greenwood.

In Brunswick, however, Dame Rumour was more precise,

and one afternoon as the bondsman rode into the town, with

some horses that needed shoeing, he was hailed by the tavern-keeper.

"Say! Folks tells that yer know how tew paint a bit?"

And, when Charles nodded, he continued: "Waal, we've

hearn word that the Congress has appinted a feller named

George Washington fer ginral, who 's goin' tew come through

here tew-morrer on his way tew Boston, an' I want tew git

that ere name painted out and his'n put in its place. Are yer

up tew it, and what 'ud the job tax me?" As the publican

spoke he pointed at the lettering below the weather-beaten

portrait of George the Third, which served as the signboard

of the tavern.

"Get me some colours, and bide till I leave these horses at

the smith's, and I'll do it for nothing," said Charles, smiling;

and ten minutes later, sitting on a barrel set in a cart, he was

doing his share toward the obliteration of kinghood and the

substitution of a comparatively unknown hero.

"'T is good luck that they both is called George," remarked

the tavern-keeper; "fer yer've only got tew paint out the

'King' an' put in a 'Gen.' in the first part, which saves

trouble right tew begin on."

Charles smilingly adopted the suggestion, and then measured

off "the III." "'T is a long name to get into such

space," he said.

"Scant it is," assented the publican. "I'll tell yer what.

Jist leave the 'the' an' paint in 'good' after it. That'll

make it read slick." Pleased with this solution of the difficulty,

the hotel-keeper retired to the "public," with a parting

invitation to the painter to drink something for his

trouble.

While Charles was doing the additional work, he was interrupted

by a roar of laughter, and, twisting about on his barrel,

he found a group of horsemen, who had come across the green

and drawn rein just behind him, looking at the newly lettered

sign. From the one of the three who rode first came the

burst of laughter--a man of medium size and thinly built,

perhaps fifty years of age, with a nose so out of proportion

to his face, in its size and heaviness, that it came near enough

to caricature to practically submerge all his other features.

The second man was evidently trying not to smile, and as

Charles glanced at him, he found him looking at the third of

the trio, as if to ascertain his mood. This last, a man of

extreme tallness, and in appearance by far the youngest of the

group--for he looked not over thirty at most--was scrutinising

the signboard gravely, but his eyes had a gleam of

merriment in them, which neutralised the set firmness of the

mouth. All the party were in uniform, save for a couple of

servants in livery, and all were well mounted.

"Haw, haw, haw!" laughed the noisy one. "Pray God

mine host be not as chary with his spit as he is with his paint

or 't will be lean entertainment."

"I said 't was best to make a push for 't to Amboy," remarked

the second.

"Nay, gentlemen," responded the third, smiling pleasantly.

"A man so prudent and economical must keep a good ordinary.

Better bide here for dinner and kill a warm afternoon,

and then push on to Amboy, in the cool of the evening, with

rested cattle."

"Within there!" shouted the noisy rider, "hast dinner and

bait for a dozen travellers?"

The call brought the publican to the door, and at first he

gasped a startled "By Jingo!" Then he jerked his cap off, and

ducked very low, saying: "'T was said, yer--yer--Lordship,

that yer 'd not come till the morrow. But if yer'll honour my

tavern, yer shall have the bestest in the house." He kept

bowing between every word to the man with the big nose.

"Then here we tarry for dinner," said the young-looking

man, gracefully swinging himself out of the saddle, a proceeding

imitated by all the riders. "Take good heed of the

horses, Bill," he said, as a coloured servant came forward.

"Wash Blueskin's nose and let him cool somewhat before

watering him." He turned toward the door of the tavern,

and this bringing Charles into vision again, he looked up at

the painter to find himself being studied with so intent a gaze

that he halted and returned the man's stare.

"Art struck of a heap by the resemblance?" demanded the

noisy officer.

"Go in, gentlemen," replied the tall one. "Well, my

man," he continued to Charles, "ye change figureheads

easily."

"Ay, 't is easier to get new figureheads than 't is to be true

to old ones."

A grave, almost stern look came into the officer's face,

making it at once that of an older man. "Then ye think

the old order best?" he asked, scanning the man with his

steady blue eyes.

The bondsman put his hand on the signboard. "'T is

safest to stick to an old figurehead until one can find a true

leader," he answered.

"And think you he is one?" demanded the officer, pointing

at the signboard.

Charles laughed and laid a finger on the chin of royalty.

"No man with so little of that was ever a leader," he asserted.

He reached down and picked up a different pot of paint from

the one he had been using, dipped his brush in it, and with

one sweep over the lower part of the face cleverly produced

a chin of character. Then he took another colour and gave

three or four deft touches to the lips, transforming the expressionless

mouth into a larger one, but giving to it both strength

and expression. "There is a beginning of a leader, I think,"

he said.

"Thou art quick with thy brush and quick with thy eyes,"

replied the man, smiling slightly and starting to go. In the

doorway he turned and said with a sudden gravity, quite as

much to himself as to the bondsman: "Please God that thou

be as true in opinion."

Left alone, the bondsman once more took his brush and

broadened and strengthened the nose and forehead. Just as

he had completed these, the tavern-keeper came bustling out

of the door. "Wilt seek Joe Bagby an' tell him tew git the

Invincibles tewgether?" he cried. "He intended tew review

'em tew-morrer fer the ginral, an' their Lordships says they'll

see 'em go through--Why, strap me, man, what hast thou

been at?"

"I've been making it a better portrait of the general than

it ever was of the king."

"But yer've drawn the wrong man!" exclaimed the publican.

"That quiet young man is not him. 'T is the heavy-nosed

man is his Excellency."

"Nonsense!" retorted the bondsman. "That loud-voiced

fellow is Leftenant-Colonel Lee, a half-pay officer. Many and

many 's the time I've seen him--and if I had n't, I'd have

known the other for the general in a hundred."

"I tell yer yer're wrong," moaned the hotel-keeper. "Any

one can see he's a ginral, an' 't is he gives all the orders fer

victuals an' grog."

Charles laughed as he descended from the barrel and the

cart. "'T is ever the worst wheel in the cart which makes the

most noise," he said, and walked away.

Two hours later the Invincibles were bunched upon the

green. As the diners issued from the inn, Bagby gave an

order. With some slight confusion the company fell in, and

two more orders brought their guns to "present arms."

"Bravo!" exclaimed Lee. "Here are some yokels who

for once don't hold their guns as if they were hoes."

Joe, fairly swelling with the pride of the moment, came

strutting forward. When he was within ten feet of the officers

he took off his hat and bowed very low. "The Invincibles is

ready to be put through their paces, your honour," he

announced.

"Damme!" sneered Lee, below his breath. "Here 's a

mohair in command who does n't so much as know the salute."

The tall officer, despite his six feet and three inches of

height, swung himself lightly into the saddle without using a

stirrup, and rode forward.

"Proceed with the review, sir," he said to Joe.

"Yes, sir--that is, I mean--your honour," replied Joe;

and, turning, he roared out, "Get ready to go on, fellows.

Attention! Dress

Instant disorder was visible in the ranks, some doing one

thing, and some another, while a man stepped forward three

or four steps and shouted: "Yer fergot ter git the muskets

back ter the first persition, Joe."

"Get into line, durn you!" shouted Joe; "an' I'll have

something to say to you later, Zerubbabel Buntling."

"O Lord!" muttered Lee to the other officers, most of

whom were laughing. "And they expect us to beat regulars

with such!"

"Attention!" once more called Joe. "To the right face--

no--I mean, shoulder firelocks first off. Now to the left

face." But by this time he was so confused that his voice sank

as he spoke the last words, and so some faced right and some

left; while altercations at once arose in the ranks that broke

the alignment into a number of disputing groups and set the

captain to swearing.

"Come," shouted one soldier, "cut it, Joe, an' let Charles

take yer place. Yer only mixes us up."

The suggestion was greeted by numerous, if various, assenting

opinions from the ranks, and without so much as waiting

to hear Bagby's reply, Charles sprang forward. Giving the

salute to the mounted officers, he wheeled about, and, with two

orders, had the lines in formation, after which the manoeuvres

were gone through quickly and comparatively smoothly.

The reviewing officer had not laughed during the confusion,

watching it with a sternly anxious face, but as the drill proceeded

this look changed, and when the parade was finished,

he rode forward and saluted the Invincibles. "Gentlemen,"

he said, "if you but conduct yourselves with the same steadiness

in the face of the enemy as you have this afternoon, your

country will have little to ask of you and much to owe." He

turned to Joe, standing shamefaced at one side, and continued:

"You are to be complimented on your company,

sir. 'T is far and away the best I have seen since I left

Virginia."

"And that is n't all, your honour," replied Joe, his face

brightening and his self-importance evidently restored. "We

are a forehanded lot, and we've got twenty half-barrels of

powder laid in against trouble."

After a few more words with Bagby, which put a pleased

smile on his face, the officer wheeled his horse. "Well, gentlemen,

we'll proceed," he called to the group; and, as they

were mounting, he rode to where Charles stood. "You have

served?" he said.

Charles, with the old sullen look upon his face, saluted, and

replied bitterly: "Yes, general, and would give an eye to be

in the ranks again."

The general looked at him steadily. "If ye served in the

ranks, how comes it that ye give the officer's salute?" he

asked.

Charles flushed, but met the scrutinising eye to eye, as he

answered: "None know it here, but I held his Majesty's

commission for seven years."

"You look o'er young to have done that," said the

general.

"I was made a cornet at twelve."

"How comes it that you are here?"

"My own folly," muttered the man.

"'T is a pity thou 'rt indentured, for we have crying need

of trained men. But do what you can hereabouts, since you

are not free to join us."

"I will, general," said Charles, eagerly, and, as the officer

wheeled his horse, he once more saluted. Then as the travellers

rode toward the bridge, the bondsman walked over and

looked up at his crude likeness of the general.

"Yer wuz right," remarked the innkeeper. "The young-lookin'

feller wuz Ginral Washington."

"Ay," exclaimed the man; "and, mark me, if a face goes

for aught, he's general enough to beat Gage--and that

the man paused, and then added: "that sluggard Howe.

And would to God I could help in it!"

XIX

SPIES AND COUNTER-SPIES

It was the middle of July when the squire and Phil returned

from New York, bringing with them much news

of the war preparations, of Washington's passing through

the city, and of the bloody battle of Bunker Hill. Of

far more importance, however, to the ladies of Greenwood,

were two pieces of information which their lord and master

promptly announced. First, that he wished the marriage to

take place speedily, and second, that at New York he had met

Mr. Evatt, just landed from a South Carolina ship, and intending,

as soon as some matter of business was completed, to

repeat his former visit to Greenwood,--an intention that the

squire had heartily indorsed by the warmest of invitations.

Both brought the colour to the cheeks of Janice, but had the

parents been watchful, they would have noted that the second

bit of news produced the higher tint.

Although Phil was still on apparently good terms with his

father, he was, from the time of his return, much at Greenwood;

and, his simple nature being quite incapable of deceit,

Janice very quickly perceived that his chief motive was not so

much the lover's desire to be near, as it was to keep watch of

her. Had the fellow deliberately planned to irritate the girl,

he could have hit upon nothing more certain to enrage her,

and a week had barely elapsed when matters reached a

crisis.

Janice, who, it must be confessed, took pleasure in deliberately

arousing the suspicion of Philemon, and thus forcing him

to reveal how closely he spied upon her, one evening, as they

rose from the supper-table, slipped out of the window and

walked toward the stable. Her swain was prompt in pursuit;

and she, quite conscious of this, stepped quickly to one side

as she passed through the last opening in the box, and stood

half-buried in the hedge. Ignorant of her proximity, Philemon

came quickly through the hedge, and was promptly made

aware of it by her hot words.

"'T is past endurance. I'll not be spied on so."

"I--I--Why, Janice, you know how I likes ter be with

you," falteringly explained Hennion.

"Spy, spy, spy--nothing but spy!" rebuked Janice; "I

can't so much as--as go to pick a flower but you are hiding

behind a bush."

"'Deed, Janice, you 're not fairsome ter me. After you

sayin' what you did about that rake-helly bondsman, 't is only

human ter--"

"To treat me as if I was a slave. Why, Peg has more

freedom than I have. If you--I'm going to the stable--to

see Charles--and if you dare to follow me, I'll--" The

girl walked away and disappeared through the doorway, leaving

Philemon standing by the box, the picture of indecision and

anxiety. "He does n't know that Charles was sent to the

village," thought Janice, laughing merrily to herself as she went

to a stall, and pulling the horse's head down put her cheek

against it. "Oh, Joggles dear," she sighed, "they are all

against me but you." She went from one horse to another,

giving each a word and a caress. Then she stole back to the

door and peeked through the crack, to find that her shadow

had disappeared; this ascertained, she went and sat down on

the hay. "If he tortures me, I'll torture him," was her

thought.

Janice waited thus for but a few minutes, when she heard

the rapid trot of a horse, which came to a halt at the stable

door. As that sound ceased, the voice of Charles broke the

silence, saying, "You stall the horse, while I see the

squire;" and, in obedience to this direction, some one led

Daisy into the stable. The gloom of nightfall made the

interior too dark for the girl to recognise the man, and,

not wishing it to be known that she was there, she sat

quiet.

For a good ten minutes the man waited, whistling softly the

while, before Charles returned.

"Waal, what luck?" asked the stranger ere Charles had

come through the doorway.

"Luck!" growled the bondsman. "The devil's own, as

mine always is, curse it!"

"From which I calkerlate that old Meredith wuz obstinate

and wud n't set yer free."

"Not he, plead my best. But that 's the last I ask of him;

and 't would have served him as well to let me go, for go I will."

"You'll go off without--"

"I will."

"Yer know what it means if brought back?"

"Double the time. Well, treble it, and still I'll do it. I

gave my word I'd help, and the general shall have the powder,

if for nothing else than to spite that dirty coward Bagby

though I serve thrice five years for' t. Tell the lads I'll lead

them, and if they'll meet me at Drigg's barn to-morrow evening

at ten we'll scheme out how to do it."

Without further parley the stranger walked away, and no

sooner had the crunch of his boots ceased than Janice came

forward.

Charles gave a startled exclamation as she appeared, and

caught the girl roughly by the wrist. "Who's this?" he

exclaimed.

"You hurt," complained Janice.

The bondsman relaxed but not released his hold at the

sound of her voice. "You've heard all I said?" he demanded.

"Yes. I--I did n't like to come out while the man was here."

"And you'll tell your father?"

"No," denied the girl. "I did n't want to listen by stealth,

but since I did, I'm no tale-bearer."

Raising the hand he held by the wrist, Charles kissed it.

"I should have known you were no eavesdropper, Miss

Janice," he said, releasing his hold.

"But--Oh, what is it you are going to do?" asked Janice.

"I have your word that it goes no further?"

"Yes."

"A secret letter came to the Brunswick Committee yester-morn

from General Washington, saying that it had just been

discovered that their powder account was a lie, and that there

were less than ten rounds to each man in stock. He knew by

some means of what is here, and he begged the committee to

send it to him; for if the British attacked him in his present

plight, 't would be fatal. And yet what think you the committee

did?"

"They asked you to take it to him?"

"Not they, the--Ah! there 's no words to fit them. Old

Hennion, mean hunks that he is, wanted them to write and

offer to sell it at double what had been paid for 't, while

Bagby would n't part with it on any terms, because he said

't was needed by the 'Invincibles' to defend the town. The

two voted down Parson McClave, who declared that Brunswick

should be laid in ashes rather than that Washington should

not be helped. Ah, Miss Janice, that 's a man for these

times."

"Then what dost intend?"

"The parson came to me to counsel what was best, and

'tween us we concocted a plan to outwit the time-servers.

There are plenty of fellows of spirit in the 'Invincibles,' and

't is our scheme to steal the powder some night, put it on a

sloop, and be to sea before daylight."

"How monstrous exciting!" exclaimed Janice, her eyes

sparkling. "And you--"

"I'll lead them. I'm desperate enough to do anything

that has risk. There's real fighting there, if the accounts

speak true, and perhaps a bullet will cancel both my shame

and my bond--ay, and my--my love for you. For I love

you, Miss Janice, love you more

Though taken very much by surprise, Janice drew herself

up proudly, and interrupted: "You forget--" she began.

"Of course I forget!" broke in the groom. "What would

love be worth if it did n't forget everything but itself? I

forget I'm a bond-servant, you 'd say. So I should if I were

a king. But you are too heartless to know what love is," he

ended bitterly.

"'T is not so," denied Janice, angrily; "but I'll love no

redemptioner, though he be as good-looking and good-tempered

as you are ill-natured and ugly."

"And who are you," demanded the man, passionately, "to

take such mighty airs? A daughter of a nobody, dubbed

Esquire because he is the biggest bubble in a pint pot."

"I shall not stay here to be insulted," cried Janice, moving

away. But in the doorway her exasperation got the better of

her dignity, and she faced about and said: "You evidently

don't know that my great-grandfather was Edward Byllynge."

The man laughed contemptuously. "Why, you little ninny,"

he retorted, "my great-grandfather was king of England!"

Janice caught hold of the lintel, and stood as if transfixed

for a moment, even the mortifying epithet of the groom forgotten

in her amazement. "A likely tale!" she ejaculated

finally when the first mute surprise was conquered.

The bond-servant had gained control of himself in the

pause, for he quietly rejoined: "'T is true enough, though

nothing to make boast of, save to those who set great store

by grandfathers." Then, in a sadder tone, he added:

"'T was a foolish brag I never thought to make, for it carries

more shame than honour, and 't is therefore best forgotten.

Moreover, I ask your pardon for saying what else I did; 't was

my tongue and not my heart which spoke."

The insult being atoned, Janice came back. "You said

you would tell me your history."

"But then--that was when I hoped--a fool I was." The

redemptioner paused, and then took a quick step toward

Janice with an eager look on his face and his hand outstretched.

"There is but one woman in the world can gain

the right to hear my sorry tale. May I tell it to you?"

Young and inexperienced as the girl was, the implication

of the question was too obvious for her to miss, and she

replied, "No."

The man dropped his arm and stood quietly for a moment,

then gave a short, abrupt laugh. "Either 't is my lot to

worship clay idols," he said, "or no woman is worth loving."

"Small blame to them for not loving you," rejoined Janice.

"Electing to marry a put like Hennion! There's a husband

of whom to be proud."

"At least he is no indentured servant," retorted the girl,

in her irritation, walking away from the stable. Once through

the garden and in sight of the house, she halted, her attention

attracted by some to-do about the porch. Coming

swiftly forward, it was to discover the squire there, candle in

hand, to light the dismounting of a horseman, and that no less

than Mr. Evatt.

"A welcome to ye," the host was saying. "Peg, tell

Charles to come and take this horse. Get ye into the house,

man; I'll hold him. Ah! Jan. Take Mr. Evatt in, lass,

and tell your mother we've a visitor."

Janice, feeling strangely shy, led the way to the parlour, and

when her mother, after the briefest of greetings, promptly

bustled off to order a glass of wine and to inspect the best

lodging-room--as guest chambers were then termed--her

embarrassment was sufficient to bring the blood glowing into

her cheeks, while, not daring so much as to meet Evatt's

eye, she hung her head and had much ado to keep from

trembling.

Evatt stood with a broad smile on his face and unconcealed

pleasure in his eyes, for in truth the girl made a picture to

charm any man; and not till Janice lifted her eyes, and shot

a furtive look at him, did he move toward her. He took her

hand and whispered: "For nine months I've thought me of

those lips and wondered when I should have taste of them.

Quickly, or thy father will--"

"You must n't!" gasped Janice, hanging her head more

than ever. "I'm to marry Philemon."

"Tush!" exclaimed the man. "I heard that tarradiddle

in York City. Why, thou 'rt promised to me, dost not remember,

and I'll not release thee, that I bind to. Wouldst rather

have that clout than me, Janice?"

Very falteringly and still with downcast face the girl murmured,

"No."

"Then I'll save ye from him, mark my word. Come, up

with your lips, and give me a kiss for the promise. What!

still frightened? 'T is nothing so terrible. A court lady

would have had a dozen kisses in the time I've pleaded.

And ye are no mere country hoyden, without manners or--"

Already Janice was raising her head, the possibility of

seeming countrified being worse even than a man's caress;

but her intended submission and Evatt's speech were both

interrupted by the clump of boots in the hall, and the pair

had barely time to assume less tell-tale attitudes when the

squire and Phil were standing in the doorway.

"Friend Evatt," ejaculated Mr. Meredith, "come to my

office at once. I've a matter needing your advice. Lass,

tell your mother to send us the Madeira and rum, with some

hot water, but let us not be disturbed."

Evatt made a grimace as he followed, and threw himself

into a chair with a suggestion of irritation.

"This lad, for a reason he won't tell," began the squire, as

he closed the door, "has kept eye on a bondsman of mine,

and this evening, as luck would have it, he stood upon a barrel,

by one of the stable windows, and overheard a pretty story the

fellow told to some one whom Phil could n't see. Tell it o'er,

lad, as ye told it me."

Hennion, thus admonished, retold the story of the powder,

as the bond-servant had related it to Janice. But two omissions

he made: the first being a failure to mention the connection

of his father with the matter, and the second the

presence of Janice in the stable.

"Here 's news indeed!" exclaimed Evatt.

"Ay. But what to do with it is the question."

"Do! Why, get word of it to Howe as quick as may be,

so that he may take advantage of their plight. We must send

him a letter."

"'T is easier said than done. Boston is encompassed, and

no man can get through the lines."

"I have it. The 'Asia' frigate, with her tender, lies in the

lower bay at New York; the latter can be sent round with a

letter to Boston. And ye shall bear it, lad," added Evatt,

turning to Phil.

"'T ain't no wish of mine," ejaculated Philemon.

"There is no one else we can trust. 'T will be but a

month's affair, at worst."

"But I don't care ter go," dissented Hennion. "I want

ter get married ter Miss Janice right off, an' not--"

"Come, squire, tell the fellow he must n't shirk his duty to

his king. He can marry your daughter any time, but now

the moment to do a service to his country. Why, man, if it

ends this rebellion, as it seems like to, they'll give ye a title--

and ye, too, squire, I doubt not."

"He speaks true, Phil. Here 's a chance, indeed. Put

the girl out of thy head for a time, and think a man's

thoughts."

"Ay," cried Evatt. "Don't prove the old saying:

'He who sighs for a glass without G,

Take away L and that is he.'"

It took much more urging to get Phil to yield, but finally,

on a promise of the master of Greenwood that he should wed

so soon as he returned, he gave a half-hearted consent. Over

the rum a letter to Sir William Howe was written by Evatt,

and he and Phil arranged to be up and away betimes in

the morning.

"That gets him well out of the way," remarked Evatt, as

in his bedroom he stripped off his clothes. "Now to be as

successful with Miss Blushing Innocence."

XX

THE LOGIC OF HONOURED PARENTS AND DUTIFUL CHILDREN

Philemon and Evatt were in the saddle by five the

next morning and a little more than an hour later held

consultation with Bagby. Everything except Phil's

intended mission was quickly told him.

"Jingo!" he remarked, and then whistled. "Why, 't is

stealing? Is n't there to be no law in the land? When do

they plot to rob us?"

"They meet this evenin' ter scheme it, an' a body can't tell

when they'll act."

"'T won't likely be to-night, but I'll keep guard myself, all

the same, and some of the Invincibles shall watch every night."

This warning given, and a bite taken at the tavern by way of

breakfast, the ride to Amboy was made in quick time. Here

a boat was secured, and the two were rowed off to the "Asia"

as she lay inside the Hook. Evatt had a long conference with

her captain in his cabin, and apparently won consent to his

plan; for when he returned on deck, a cutter was cleared away,

and Phil was told it would put him on the tender which was

to carry him to Boston. With many a longing glance at the

shore, he bade good-by to Evatt, who cheered him by predictions

of reward and speedy return.

Philemon gone, Evatt remained a short time in conference

with the chaplain of the man-of-war, and then returned to

Amboy. Once more taking horse, he set off on his return

to Greenwood, arriving there in the heat of the afternoon.

He was forced, by the absence of all the working force in the

hayfield, to stable his horse himself, and then he walked toward

what he had already observed from the saddle,--Janice, seated

upon a garden bench under a poplar on the lawn, making

artificial flowers. Let it be acknowledged that until the appearance

of Evatt the girl had worked languidly, and had allowed

long pauses of idleness while she meditated, but with his advent

she became the embodiment of industry.

"Odd's life!" the man ejaculated as he sat down beside the

worker. "'Twixt love's heat and an August sun, your lover,

Janice, has come nigh to dissolving."

Janice, with hands that shook, essayed to snip out a rose

petal which her own cheeks matched in tint.

Evatt removed first his hat and then his wig, that he might

mop his head. Having replaced the hirsute ornament, he

continued: "And thy father is as hot for thy marriage with

that yokel. He set the day yestere'en."

"When?" demanded the girl, looking up anxiously.

"What say ye to this day week?"

"Oh!" cried Janice. "Was ever maid born under such

a ha'penny planet?"

"Don't make outcry 'gainst your star when it has sent ye

a lover in the nick of time, ready to save ye from the

bumpkin."

Janice took a shy come-and-go glance at him and said:

"You mean

"What say ye to an elopement?"

"Oh!" exclaimed the girl, meeting Evatt's gaze eagerly.

"'T would be monstrous delightsome to be run off with, of

course; but--"

"But what?"

"Well--I--Mommy told me that in the province no

maid could be lawfully wed without her parents' consent."

"True," assented the tempter, "if she wed where the colony

law holds good. But we'll get round that by having the knot

tied on royal ground."

"Not in England?" said the girl, drawing back a little.

"Think ye I'd treat the lass I love like that?" responded

Evatt, reproachfully. "Nay. A friend of mine is chaplain on

the 'Asia' man-of-war, and he'll make no bones about helping

us. And as the king's flag and broad arrow puts the ship out

of the colony jurisdiction, 't will make the thing legal despite

the law."

"How romantic!" exclaimed Janice. "To think of making

a stolen match, and of being wed on a king's ship!"

"Now dost want to rail at thy star?"

"'T is great good fortune," ecstatically sighed the girl.

"Think you 't would be right?"

"Would I ask it if 't were not?" rejoined Evatt, heartily.

"But dadda and mommy--" began the falterer.

"Will be pleased enough when the job's done. Think ye,

if they were n't bound they 'd not rather have a titled son-in-law

than that gawk?"

"A what?" cried Janice.

"Thou dost not know thy lover's true name, Janice. 'T is

John Ombrey, Lord Clowes, who sits beside thee."

Janice sprang to her feet. "And I've spoke to you as if

you were just--just a man," she cried in a horrified voice.

"'T was not fair so to beguile me!"

Evatt looked at the ground to hide the smile he could not

suppress. "'T was done for the king, Janice," he said. "And

't is all the more romantic that I've won ye without your knowing.

Sit down again; if 't were not in view of the house I

should be kneeling to ye."

Janice sank back on the garden seat. "I can't believe it yet!"

she gasped breathlessly. "I knew of course thou wast a court

gentleman, but--"

"And now I suppose ye'll send me packing and wed the

yokel?" suggested the lover.

"Oh, no!" cried Janice. "If you--if you really--" the

girl gave a glance at the man, coloured to the temples, and,

springing to her feet, fled toward the house. She did not stop

till she reached her room, where she flung herself on the bed

and buried her cheeks in the pillow. Thus she lay for some

time, then rose, looked at herself in the mirror, and finding her

hair sadly disordered, she set about the task of doing it over.

"'T is beyond belief!" she murmured. "I must be very beautiful!"

She paused in her task, and studied her own face.

"Now I know why he always makes me feel so uncomfortable

--and afraid--and--and gawky. 'T is because he is a lord.

Sometimes he does look at me as if--as if he were hungry--

ugh! It frights me. But he must know what 's the mode.

'Lady Janice Clowes.' 'T is a pity the title is not prettier.

Whatever will Tibbie say when she hears!"

It was a little after ten that evening when the squire and

Evatt parted for the night in the upper hail, the former being,

as usual, not tipsy, but in a jovial mood toward all things; and

as this attitude is conducive to sleep, his snores were ere long

reverberating to all waking ears. One pair of these were so

keenly alive to every noise that not the chirp of a cricket escaped

them, and from time to time their owner started at the smallest

sound. Owing to this attention, they heard presently the creak

of the stairs, the soft opening of the front door, and even the swish

of feet on the grass. Then, though the ears fairly strained to

catch the least noise, came a silence, save for the squire's

trumpeting, for what seemed to the girl a period fairly interminable.

Finally the rustling of the grass told of the return of the

prowler, and as the girl heard it she once more began trembling,

"Oh!" she moaned. "If only I had n't--if only he'd go

away!" She rose from the bed, and stole to the window.

"Mr. Evatt, I'm so frightened, I don't dare," she whispered

to the figure standing below. "Wait till to-morrow

night!

"Nonsense!" said the man, so loudly that Janice was more

cared than ever. "I told ye it must be to-night. Come down

quickly."

"Oh, please!" moaned Janice.

"Dost want to be the wife of that gawk?" demanded Evatt,

impatiently.

Though he did not know it, the girl vacillated. "At least

I'm not frightened of Phil," was her thought.

"Well," called the man more loudly, "art going to keep me

here all night?"

"Hush!" whispered Janice. "Thee'll wake--"

"Belike I will," he retorted irritably. "And if they ask me

what 's in the wind, they shall have the truth. Odd's life!

I'm not a man to be fooled by a chit of a girl."

"Oh, hush!" again she begged, more frightened at the prospect

of her parents knowing than by any other possibility. "I'll

come if you'll only be quiet."

She took a small bundle, hurriedly stole downstairs, and

passed out of the house.

"Now ye've come to your senses," said the man. "Give

me the bundle and your hand," he continued, and set out at a

rapid pace across the lawn, having almost to drag the girl, her

feet carried her so unwillingly. "Over with ye," he ordered,

as they reached the stile at the corner, and when Janice descended

she found two horses hitched to the fence and felt a

little comforted by the mere presence of Daisy. She was

quickly mounted, and they set off, the girl so helpless in her

fright that Evatt had to hold her horse's bridle as well as his

own.

"Burn it!" exclaimed Evatt, presently, "art never going to

end thy weeping?"

"If you would only have waited till--" sobbed Janice.

"'T was no time for shilly-shallying," interrupted the man.

"Dost not see that we had to take to-night, when the groom

was gone, for there 'd have been no getting the horses with him

sleeping in the stable?"

"What if we meet him returning?" cried the girl, her voice

shaking.

"'T would little matter. Think ye he could catch us afoot?"

"But he could tell dadda."

"And by that time we shall be two-thirds of the way to

Amboy. 'T is but a twenty miles, and we should be there by

three. Then if we meet no delay in getting a boat, we shall

be on the 'Asia' near seven. By eight the chaplain will have

made us twain one."

"Oh!" moaned the girl, "what ever will dadda say?"

As this was a question no one could answer, a silence ensued,

which lasted until they rode into Brunswick. Guiding the

horses upon the green, to reduce the beat of their hoofs to a

minimum, Evatt turned off the grass at the river road and

headed toward the bridge across the Raritan. As they approached,

a noise of some kind arrested Evatt's attention, and

he was just checking the horses when a voice cried:--

"Stand!"

Janice gave a startled cry which instantly set a dog barking.

"Keep silence!" again ordered the unseen man.

Evatt, after an oath below his breath, demanded, "By what

right do ye stop us, whoever ye are?"

"By the right of powder and ball," remarked the voice, drily.

Again the dog barked, and both Evatt and the unseen man

swore. "Curse the beast!" said the latter. "Hist, Charles!

Call the dog, or he'll wake the town."

Another voice from a little distance called, "Clarion!" in a

guarded inflection; meantime the hound had discovered his

mistress, and was jumping about her horse, giving little yelps

of pleasure.

In another instant Charles came running up. "What's

wrong?" he questioned.

"'T is a couple of riders I've halted," said the voice from

the shadow.

"Out of the way!" ordered Evatt. "Ye've no right to

prevent us from going forward. I've pistols in my holsters,

and ye'd best be careful how ye take the law into your own

hands."

The groom gave an exclamation as he recognised the riders;

and paying no attention to Evatt, he sprang to the side of the

girl and rested his hand on the bridle, as if to prevent her horse

from moving, while he asked in amazement: "What brings

you here?"

Speechless and shamed, the girl hung her head.

"Let go that bridle, ye whelp!" blustered Evatt, throwing

back the flap of his holster and pulling out a heavy horse pistol.

As he made the motion, the bondsman dropped the rein and

seized the hand that held the weapon. For a moment there

was a sharp struggle, in which the third man, who sprang from

the shadow, joined. Nor did Evatt cease resistance until three

men more came running up, when, overborne by numbers, he was

dragged from his horse and held to the ground. In the whole

contest both sides had maintained an almost absolute silence,

as if each had reasons for not waking the villagers.

"Stuff a sod of grass in his mouth to keep him quiet,"

ordered Charles, panting, "and tie him hand and foot." Taking

a lantern from one of the men, he walked back to the speechless

and frightened girl and held the light to her face. "'T is

not possible you--you--oh! I'll never believe it of you."

With pride and mortification struggling for mastery, Janice

replied: "What you think matters not to me."

"You were eloping with this man?"

Though the groom's thoughts were of no moment to the

girl, she replied: "To escape marrying Philemon Hennion."

"What things women are!" he exclaimed contemptuously.

"You deserve no better than to be his doll common, but--"

"We were to be married," cried Janice.

"In the reign of Queen Dick!"

"This very day on the 'Asia' frigate."

"A likely tale," jeered the man. "Bring that fellow down

to the boat," he called, and catching hold of the bridle, he

started walking.

"Whither are you taking me?" inquired Janice, in fright.

"The parson is down by the river, helping transfer the powder,

and I'm going to leave you with him to take back to

Greenwood."

"Oh, Charles," besought the girl, "you'll not be so

cruel! I'd sooner die than--than--Think what mommy--

and dadda--and the whole village--I did n't want to go

with him--but--Please, oh, please! You'll not disgrace

me? I'll promise never to go off with him--indeed--"

"Of that I'll be bound," sneered the servant, with a harsh

laugh, "for I'm going to take him with me to Cambridge."

For a moment Janice was silent, then cried: "If you only

knew how I hate you."

The man laughed bitterly. "I do--from the way I hate--

ay, and despise you!"

Another moment brought them to the edge of a wharf, where

a number of men were busying themselves in stowing barrels on

board a small sloop. "Hold this horse," ordered the servant,

while he joined one of the toilers and drew him apart in

consultation.

"Powder aboard, cap'n," presently called some one.

"Take that man and stow him below decks along with it,"

ordered Charles. "Good-by, parson. I hope to send good

news from Cambridge of this night's work. Boys, take Bagby

out of the stocks before daylight, and tell him if the Invincibles

want their powder to follow us, and they shall have fifty

rounds of it a man, with plenty of fighting to boot. All aboard

that are for the front!"

Half a dozen men followed, while those on the wharf cast off

the fasts. But all at once stood still when the parson, with

bowed head, began a prayer for the powder, for the adventurers

who took it, and for the general and army it was designed to

serve. Sternly yet eloquently he prayed until the boat had

drifted with the tide out of hearing, and the creak of the blocky

came across the water, showing that those on board were making

sail. Then, as the men on the wharf dispersed, he mounted

the horse Evatt had ridden.

"Janice Meredith," he said sternly," I propose to occupy

this ride with a discourse upon the doctrine of total depravity,

from which downward path you have been saved this night,

deducing therefrom an illustration of the workings of grace

through foreordination,--the whole with a view to the saving

of your soul and the admonishment of your sinful nature."

XXI

A SUDDEN SCARCITY OF BEAUX

It was daylight when the parson and Janice rode through

the gate of Greenwood, and the noise of hoofs brought

both the girl's parents to the window of their bedroom

in costumes as yet by no means completed. Yet when,

in reply to the demand of the squire as to what was the meaning

of this arrival, it was briefly explained to him that his daughter

had attempted to elope with his guest, he descended to the

porch without regard to scantiness of clothing.

A terrible ten minutes for Janice succeeded, while the squire

thundered his anger at her, and she, overcome, sobbed her grief

and mortification into Daisy's mane. Then, when her father

had drained the vials of his wrath, her mother appeared more

properly garbed, and in her turn heaped blame and scorn on

the girl's bowed head. For a time the squire echoed his wife's

indignation, but it is one thing to express wrath oneself and

quite another to hear it fulminated by some one else; so presently

the squire's heart began to soften for his lass, and he attempted

at last to interpose in palliation of her conduct. This

promptly resulted in Mrs. Meredith's ordering Janice off the

horse and to her room. "Where I'll finish what I have to

say," announced her mother; and the girl, helped down by Mr.

Meredith, did as she was told, longing only for death.

The week which succeeded was a nightmare to Janice, her

mother constantly recurring to her wickedness, the servants addressing

her with a scared breathlessness which made her feel

that she was indeed declassed for ever, while the people of the

neighbourhood, when she ventured out-of-doors, either grinned

broadly or looked dourly when they met her, showing the girl

that her shame was town property.

Mrs. Meredith also took frequent occasion to insist on the

girl's marriage with Mr. McClave, on the ground that he alone

could properly chasten her; but to this the squire refused to

listen, insisting that such a son-in-law he would never have, and

that he was bound to Philemon. "We'll keep close watch on

her for the time he's away, and then marry her out of hand the

moment he's returned," he said.

Had the parents attempted to carry out the system of espionage

that they enforced during the first month they would have

had their hands full far longer than they dreamed. Week after

week sped by, summer ripened into fall, and fall faded into

winter, but Philemon came not. Little by little Janice's misconduct

ceased to be a general theme of village talk, and the

life at Greenwood settled back into its accustomed groove.

Even the mutter of cannon before Boston was but a matter of

newspaper news, and the war, though now fairly inaugurated,

affected the squire chiefly by the loss of the bondsman, for

whom he advertised in vain.

One incident which happened shortly after the proposed

elopement, and which cannot be passed over without mention,

was a call from Squire Hennion on Mr. Meredith. The master

of Boxely opened the interview by shaking his fist within a few

inches of the rubicund countenance of the master of Greenwood,

and, suiting his words to the motion, he roared: "May

Belza take yer, yer old--" and the particular epithet is best

omitted, the eighteenth-century vocabulary being more expressive

than refined--"fer sendin' my boy ter Boston, wheer,

belike, he'll never git away alive."

"Don't try to bully me!" snorted the squire, shaking his fist

in turn, and much nearer to the hatchet-face of his antipathy.

"Put that down or I'll teach ye manners! Yes, damn ye,

for the first time in your life ye shall be made to behave like a

gentleman!"

"I defy yer ter make me!" retorted Hennion, with unconscious

humour.

"Heyday!" said Mrs. Meredith, entering, "what 's the

cause of all this hurly-burly?"

"Enuf cause, an' ter spare," howled Hennion. "Here

this--" once more the title is left blank for propriety's sake--

"hez beguiled poor Phil inter goin' on some fool errand ter

Boston, an' the feller knew so well I would n't hev it thet all he

dun wuz ter write me a line, tellin' how this--insisted he

should go, an' thet he'd started. 'Twixt yer whiffet of a gal an'

yer old--of a husband, yer've bewitched all the sense the

feller ever hed in his noddle, durn yer!"

"Let him talk," jeered the squire. "'T will not bring Phil

back. What's more, I'll make him smile the other side of his

teeth before I've done with him. Harkee, man, I've a rod in

pickle that will make ye cry small." The squire took a bundle of

papers from an iron box and flourished them under Hennion s

nose "There are assignments of every mortgage ye owe, ye

old fox, and pay day 's coming."

"Let it," sneered the owner of Boxely. "Yer think I

did n't know, I s'pose? Waal, thet 's wheer yer aout. Phil,

he looked so daown in the maouth just afore yer went ter

York thet I knew theer must be somethin' ter make him act so

pukish, an' I feels araound a bit, an' as he ain't the best hand

at deceivin' I hez the fac's in no time. An' as I could n't hev

them 'ere mortgages in better hands, I tell 'd him ter go ahead

an' help yer all he could. 'T was I gave him the list of them

I owed."

The squire, though taken aback, demanded: "And I suppose

ye have the money ready to douse on pay day?"

Hennion sniggered. "Yer won't be hard, thet I know,

squire. I reckon yer'll go easy on me."

"If ye think I'm going to spare ye on account of Phil ye are

mightily out. I'll foreclose the moment each falls due, that I

warn ye."

"Haow kin yer foreclose whin theer ain't no courts?"

"Pish!" snapped the creditor. "'T is purely temporary;

within a twelve-month there'll be law enough. Think ye England

is sleeping?"

"We'll see, we'll see," retorted Hennion. "In the meantime,

squire, I hope yer won't wont because I don't pay

interest. Times is thet onsettled thet yer kain't sell craps naw

nothin,' an' ready money 's pretty hard ter come by."

"Not I," rejoined the squire. "'T will enable me to foreclose

all the quicker."

"When theer 's courts ter foreclose," replied Hennion, grinning

suggestively. With this parting shot, he left the house and

rode away.

On the same day this interview occurred, another took place in

the Craigie House in Cambridge, then occupied as the headquarters

of General Washington. The commander-in-chief was

sitting in his room, busily engaged in writing, when an orderly

entered and announced that a man who claimed to have important

business, which he refused to communicate except to the

general, desired word with him. The stranger was promptly

ushered in, and stood revealed as a fairly tall, well-shaped young

fellow, clad in coarse clothing, with a well-made wig of much

better quality, which fitted him so ill as to suggest that it was

never made for his head.

"I understand your Excellency is in dire need of powder,"

he said as he saluted.

A stern look came upon Washington's face. "Who are you,

and how heard you that?" he demanded.

"My name is John Brereton. How I heard of your want

was in a manner that needs not to be told, as--"

"Tell you shall," exclaimed Washington, warmly. "The fact

was known to none but the general officers and to the powder

committee, and if there has been unguarded or unfaithful speech

it shall be traced to its source."

"Your Excellency wrote a letter to the committee of Middlesex

County in Jersey?"

"I did."

"The committee refused to part with the powder."

Washington rose. "Have they no public spirit, no consideration

of our desperate plight?" he exclaimed.

"But your Excellency, though the committee would not part

with the powder, some lads of spirit would not see you want for

it, and--and by united effort we succeeded in getting and

bringing to Cambridge twenty half-barrels of powder, which is

now outside, subject to your orders."

With an exclamation mingling disbelief and hope, the commander

sprang to the window. A glance took in the two carts

loaded with kegs, and he turned, his face lighted with

emotion.

"God only knows the grinding anxiety, the sleepless nights, I

have suffered, knowing how defenceless the army committed to

my charge actually was! You have done our cause a service

impossible to measure or reward." He shook the man's hand

warmly.

"And I ask in payment, your Excellency, premission to

volunteer."

"In what capacity?"

"I have served in the British forces as an officer, but all I

ask is leave to fight, without regard to rank."

"Tell me the facts of your life."

"As I said, my name is John Brereton. Nothing else about

me will ever be known from me."

Washington scrutinised the man with an intent surprise.

"You cannot expect us to trust you on such information."

"An hour ago it would have been possible for me to have

sneaked by stealth into the British lines with this letter," said

the man, taking from his pocket a sheet of paper and handing

it to the general. "What think you would Sir William Howe

have given me for news, over the signature of General Washington,

that the Continental Army had less than ten rounds of

powder per man?"

Washington studied the face of the young fellow steadily for

twenty seconds. "Are you good at penmanship?" he asked.

"I am a deft hand at all smouting work," replied Brereton.

"Then, sir," said Washington, smiling slightly, "as I wish to

keep an eye on you until you have proved yourself, I shall for

the present find employment for you in my own family."

Thus a twelve-month passed without Philemon Hennion, John

Evatt, Charles Fownes, Parson McClave, or any other lover so

much as once darkening the doors of Greenwood.

"Janice," remarked her mother at the end of the year, "dost

realise that in less than a twelve-month thou 'lt be a girl of

eighteen and without a lover, much less a husband? I was wed

before I was seventeen, and so are all respectably behaved

females. See what elopements come to. 'T is evident thou 'rt

to die an old maid."

XXII

THE OLIVE BRANCH

If this year was bare of courtships, of affairs of interest it

was far otherwise. Scarcely was 1776 ushered in than

news came that the raw and ill-equipped force, which

for nine months had held the British beleaguered in

Boston, had at last obtained sufficient guns and powder to assume

the offensive, and had, by seizing Dorchester Heights,

compelled the evacuation of the city. Howe's army and the

fleet sailed away without molestation to Halifax, leaving behind

them a rumour, however, that great reinforcements were

coming from Great Britain, and that upon their arrival, New

York would be reduced and held as a strategic base from

which all the middle colonies would be overrun and reduced

to submission.

This probability turned military operations southward. General

Lee, who early in the new year had been given command

of the district around Manhattan Island, set about a system of

fortifications, even while he protested that the water approaches

made the city impossible to hold against such a naval force as

Britain was certain to employ. At the same time that this

protection was begun against an outward enemy, a second was

put in train against the inward one, and this involved the

household of Meredith.

One morning, while the squire stood superintending two of

his laborers, as they were seeding a field, a rider stopped his

horse at the wall dividing it from the road and hailed him

loudly. Mr. Meredith, in response to the call, walked toward

the man; but the moment he was near enough to recognise

Captain Bagby, he came to a halt, indecisive as to what course

to pursue toward his enemy.

"Can't do no talking at this distance, squire," sang out

Bagby, calmly; "and as I've got something important to say,

and my nag prevents me from coming to you, I reckon you'll

have to do the travelling."

After a moment's hesitation, the master of Greenwood came

to the stone wall. But it was with a bottled-up manner which

served to indicate his inward feelings that he demanded crustily,

"What want ye with me?"

"It's this way," explained Joe. "If what's said is true,

Howe is coming to York with a bigger army than we can raise,

to fight us, if we fights, but with power to offer us all we

wants, if we won't. Now there 's a big party in Congress as is

mortal afraid that there'll be a reconciliation, and so they is

battling tooth and nail to get independence declared before

Howe can get here, so that there sha'n't be no possibility of

making up."

"The vile Jesuits!" exclaimed the squire, wrathfully,

"and but a three-month gone they were tricking their constituents

with loud-voiced cries that the charge that they

desired independence was one trumped up by the ministry to

injure the American cause, and that they held the very thought

in abhorrence."

"'T is n't possible to always think the same way in politics

straight along," remarked the politician, "and that 's just what

I come over to see you about. Now, if there 's going to be

war, I guess I'll be of some consequence, and if there 's going

to be a peace, like as not you'll be on top; and I'll be concerned

if I can tell which it is like to be."

"I can tell ye," announced Mr. Meredith. "'T is--"

"Perhaps you can, squire," broke in Bagby, "but your

opinions have n't proved right so far, so just let me finish what

I have to say first. Have you heard that the Committee of

Safety has arrested the Governor?"

"No. Though 't is quite of a piece with your other lawless

proceedings."

"Some of his letters was intercepted, and they was so tory-ish

that 't was decided he should be put under guard. And

at the same time it was voted to take precautionary proceedings

against all the other enemies of the country."

"Then why are n't ye under arrest?" snapped the squire.

"'Cause there 's too many of us, and too few of you," explained

Bagby, equably. "Now the Committee has sent orders

to each county committee to make out a list of those we think

ought to be arrested, and a meeting 's to be held this afternoon

to act on it. Old Hennion he came to me last night

and said he wanted your name put on, and he'd vote to

recommend that you be taken to Connecticut and held in

prison there along with the Governor."

"Pox the old villain!" fumed Mr. Meredith. "For a six-months

I've sat quiet, as ye know, and 't is merely his way of

paying the debts he owes me. A fine state ye've brought the

land to, when a man can settle private scores in such a

manner."

"There is n't no denying that you 're no friend to the

cause, and if any one 's to be took up hereabouts, it should be

you. Still, I'm a fair-play fellow, and so I thought, before I

let him have his way, I'd come over and have a talk with you,

to see if we could n't fix things."

"How?"

"If the king 's come to his senses and intends to deal fair

with us," remarked Bagby, with a preliminary glance around

and a precautionary dropping of his voice, "that 's all I ask,

and so I don't see no reason for attacking his friends until we

are more certain of what 's coming. At the same time, if

Hennion wants to jail you, I think you'll own I have n't much

reason to take your part. You've always been as stuck up

and abusive to me as you well could be. So 't is only natural

I should n't stand up for you."

The lord of Greenwood swallowed before he said, "Perhaps

I've not been neighbourly, but what sort of revenge is

it to force me from my home, and distress my wife and

daughter?"

"That's it," assented the Committeeman. "And so I

came over to see what could be done. We have n't been the

best of friends down to now, but that is n't saying that we

could n't have been, if you 'd been as far-seeing as me, and

known who to side in with. It seemed to me that if I stood

by you in this scrape we might fix it up to act together. I

take it that my brains and your money could run Middlesex

County about as we pleased, if we quit fighting, and work

together. Squire Hennion would have to take a back seat in

politics, I guess."

The squire could not wholly keep the pleasure the thought

gave him from his face. "'T would be a god-send to the

county," he cried. "Ye know that as well as I."

"As to that, I'll say nothing," answered Joe. "But of

course, if I'm going to throw my influence with you, I expect

something in return."

"And what 's that?" asked Mr. Meredith, still dwelling on

his revenge.

"I need n't tell you, squire, that I'm a rising man, and I'm

going to go on rising. 'T won't be long before I'm about

what I please, especially if we make a deal. Now, though

there has n't been much intercourse between us, yet I've had

my eye on your daughter for a long spell, and if you'll give

your consent to my keeping company with her, I'll be your

friend through thick and thin."

For a moment Mr. Meredith stood with wide-open mouth,

then he roared: "Damn your impudence! ye--ye--have

my lass, ye--be off with ye--ye--" There all articulate

speech ended, the speaker only sputtering in his wrath, but his

two fists, shaken across the wall, spoke eloquently the words

that choked him.

"I thought you 'd play the fool, as usual," retorted the

suitor, as he pulled his horse's head around. "You'll live to

regret this day, see if you don't." And with this vague threat

he trotted away toward Brunswick.

Whether Bagby had purposely magnified the danger with

the object of frightening the squire into yielding to his wishes,

or whether he and Hennion were outvoted by Parson McClave

and the other members of the Committee, Mr. Meredith never

learned. Of what was resolved he was not left long in doubt,

for the morning following, the whole Committee, with a contingent

of the Invincibles, invaded the privacy of Greenwood,

and required of him that he surrender to them such arms as

he was possessed of, and sign a parol that he would in no way

give aid or comfort to the invaders. To these two requirements

the squire yielded, at heart not a little comforted that

the proceedings against him were no worse, though vocally he

protested at such "robbery and coercion."

"Ye lord it high-handedly now," he told the party, "but

ye'll sing another song ere long."

"Yer've been predictin' thet fer some time," chuckled

Hennion, aggravatingly.

"'T will come all the surer that it comes tardily. 'Slow and

sure doth make secure,' as ye'll dearly learn. We'll soon see

how debtors who won't pay either principal or interest like

the law!"

Hennion chuckled again. "Yer see, squire," he said, "it

don't seem ter me ter be my interest ter pay principal, nor

my principle ter pay interest. Ef I wuz yer, I would n't het

myself over them mogiges; I ain't sweatin'."

"I'll sweat ye yet, ye old rascal," predicted the creditor.

"When'll thet be?" asked Hennion.

"When we are no longer tyrannised over by a pack of

debtors, scoundrels, and Scotch Presbyterians," with which

remark the squire stamped away.

It must be confessed, however, that bad as the master of

Greenwood deemed the political situation, he gave far more

thought to his private affairs. Every day conditions were becoming

more unsettled. His overseer had left his employ to

enlist, throwing all care of the farm on the squire's shoulders;

a second bondsman, emboldened by Charles' successful levanting,

had done the same, making labourers short-handed; while

those who remained were more eager to find excuses taking

them to Brunswick, that they might hear the latest news, and

talk it over, than they were to give their undivided attention to

reaping and hoeing. Finally, more and more tenants failed to

appear at Greenwood on rent day, and so the landlord was

called upon to ride the county over, dunning, none too successfully,

the delinquent.

Engrossing as all this might be, Mr. Meredith was still too

much concerned in public events not to occasionally find an

excuse for riding into Brunswick and learning of their progress;

and one evening as he approached the village, his eyes and

ears both informed him that something unusual was in hand,

for muskets were being discharged, great fires were blazing

on the green, and camped upon it was a regiment of troops.

Riding up to the tavern, where a rushing business was being

done, the squire halted the publican as he was hurrying

past with a handful of mugs, by asking, "What does all this

mean?"

"Living jingo, but things is on the bounce," cried the landlord,

excitedly. "Here 's news come that the British fleet of

mor'n a hundred sail is arrived inside o' Sandy Hook, an' all

the Jersey militia hez been ordered out, an' here 's a whole

regiment o' Pennsylvania 'Sociators on theer way tew Amboy

tew help us fight 'em, an' more comin'; an' as if everythin' was

tew happen all tew once, here 's Congress gone an' took John

Bull by the horns in real arnest." The cupbearer-to-man

thrust a broadside, which he pulled from his pocket, into the

squire's hand, and hastened away cellar-ward.

The squire unrumpled the sheet, which was headed in bold-faced

type:--

In Congress, July 4, 1776,

A Declaration by the Representatives of the United States

of America in General Congress assembled.

Ere he had more than seen the words, he was interrupted by

Joe, who, glass in hand, left the bench and came to the rider,

where, in a low voice, he said:--

"You see, squire, the independents has outsharped the

other party, and got the thing passed before Howe got here.

It was a durned smart trick, and don't leave either side nothing

but to fight. I guess 't won't be long before you'll be sorry

enough you did n't take up with my offer."

Mr. Meredith, who had divided his attention between what

his interlocutor was saying and the sentence, "When, in the

course of human events, it becomes necessary for one people

to dissolve the political bands which have connected them

with another," concluded that human events could wait, and

ceasing to read, he gave his attention to the speaker.

"If ye think to frighten or grieve me, ye are mightily out,"

he trumpeted loudly. "Hitherto Britain has dealt gently

with ye, but now ye'll feel the full force of her wrath. A six

weeks will serve to bring the whole pack of ye to your knees,

whining for pardon."

The prediction was greeted with a chorus of gibes and protests,

and on the instant the squire was the centre of a struggling

mass of militiamen and villagers, who roughly pulled him

from his horse. But before they could do more, the colonel

of the troops and the parson interfered, loudly commanding

the mob to desist from all violence; and with ill grace and with

muttered threats and angry noddings of heads, the crowd, one

by one, went back to their glasses. That the interference was

none too prompt was shown by the condition of the squire, for

his hat, peruke, and ruffles were all lying on the ground in

tatters, his coat was ripped down the back, and one sleeve

hung by a mere shred.

"You do wrong to anger the people unnecessarily, sir,"

said Mr. McClave, sternly. "Dost court ducking or other violence?

Common prudence should teach you to be wiser."

The squire hastily climbed into the saddle. From that

vantage point he replied, "Ye need not think Lambert Meredith

is to be frightened into dumbness. But there are some who

will talk smaller ere long." Then, acting more prudently than

he spoke, he shook his reins and started Joggles homeward.

It was little grief, as can be imagined, that the events of the

next few weeks brought to Greenwood; and the day the news

came that Washington's force had been outflanked and successfully

driven from its position on the hills of Brooklyn, with a loss

of two of its best brigades, the squire was so jubilant that nothing

would do but to have up a bottle of his best Madeira,--

a wine hitherto never served except to guests of distinction.

"Give a knave rope enough and he'll hang himself" he

said gloatingly. "Because the land favoured them at Boston,

they got the idea they were invincible, and Congress would

have it that New York must be defended, though a hundred

thousand troops could not have done it against the fleet, let

alone Howe's army. Ho! By this time the rogues have

learned what fifteen thousand butchers and bakers and candlestick-makers

can do 'gainst thirty thousand veterans. And

they've had but the first mouthful of the dose they'll have to

swallow."

The jubilation of the prophet was short-lived, for even as

he spoke, and with decanter but half emptied, the tramp of

feet sounded in the hallway, and the door was flung open to

admit four men, armed with muskets.

"In the name of the Continental Congress, and by orders

of General Washington, I arrests yer, Lambert Meredith,"

announced the spokesman.

"For what?" cried Janice.

"For treason."

XXIII

HEADQUARTERS IN 1776

On September 15, a group of horsemen, occupying a

slight eminence of ground on the island of Manhattan,

were gazing eastward. Below and nearer

the water were spread lines of' soldiers behind intrenchments,

while from three men-of-war lying in the river

came a heavy cannonade that swept the shore line and spread

over the water a pall of smoke which, as it drifted to leeward,

obscured the Long Island shore from view.

"'T is evidently a feint, your Excellency," presently asserted

one of the observers, "to cover a genuine attack elsewhere

--most likely above the Haarlem."

The person addressed--a man with an anxious, careworn

face that made him look fifty at least--lowered his glass, but

did not reply for some moments. "You may be right, sir,"

he remarked, "though to me it has the air of an intended

attack. What think you, Reed?"

"I agree with Mifflin. The attack will be higher up.

Hah! Look there!"

A rift had come in the smoke, and a column of boats, moving

with well-timed oars, could for a moment be seen as it

came forward.

"They intend a landing at Kip's Bay, as I surmised," exclaimed

the general. "Gentlemen, we shall be needed below."

He turned to Reed and gave him an order concerning

reinforcements, then wheeled and, followed by the rest, trotted

over the ploughed field. Once on the highway, he spurred

his horse, putting him to a sharp canter.

"What troops hold the works on the bay, Muffin?" asked

one of the riders.

"Fellows' and Parsons' brigades, Brereton."

"If they are as good at fighting as at thieving, they'll distinguish

themselves."

"Ay," laughed Muffin. "If the red coats were but chickens

or cattle, the New England militia would have had them

all captured ere now."

"They'll be hearn from to-day," said a third officer.

"They've earthworks to git behind, and they'll give the

British anuther Bunker Hill."

"Then you ought to be quick, General Putnam," said

Brereton, "for that 's the fighting you like."

The road lay in the hollow of the land, and not till the

party reached a slight rise were they able once more to get a

glimpse of the shores of the bay. Then it was to find the

flotilla well in toward its intended landing-place, and the

American troops retreating in great disorder from their breastworks.

Exclamations of surprise and dismay sprang from the lips

of the riders, and their leader, turning his horse, jumped the

fence and galloped across the fields to intercept the fugitives.

Five minutes brought them up to the runaways, who, out of

breath with the sharpness of their pace, had come to a halt,

and were being formed by their officers into a little less

disorder.

"General Fellows, what was the reason for this shameful

retreat?" demanded the general, when within speaking

distance.

"The men were seized with a panic on the approach of the

boats, your Excellency, and could not be held in the lines."

Washington faced the regiments, his face blazing with scorn.

"You ran before a shot had been fired! Before you lost a

man, you deserted works that have taken weeks to build, and

which could be held against any such force." He paused for

a moment, and then, drawing his sword, he called with spirit:

"Who's for recovering them?"

A faint cheer passed down the lines; but almost as it

sounded, the red coats of fifty or sixty light infantry came into

view on the road, a skirmishing party thrown forward from

the landing to reconnoitre. Had they been Howe's whole

army, however, they could not have proved more effective, for

instantly the two brigades broke and dissolved once more into

squads of flying men.

At such cowardice, Washington lost all control of himself,

and, dashing in among the fugitives, he passionately struck

right and left with the flat of his sword, thundering curses at

them; while Putnam and Muffin, as well as the aides, followed

his example. It was hopeless, however, to stay the rush; the

men took the blows and the curses unheeding, while throwing

away their guns and scattering in every direction.

Made frantic by such conduct, Washington wheeled his

horse. "Charge!" he cried, and rode toward the enemy,

waving his sword.

If the commander-in-chief had hoped to put some of his

own courage into the troops by his example, he failed. Not

a man of the runaways ceased fleeing. None the less, as if

regardless of consequences in his desperation, Washington

rode on, until one of the aides dashed his spurs into his horse

and came up beside his general at a mad gallop.

"Your Excellency!" he cried, "'t is but hopeless and will

but end in--" Then, as his superior did not heed him, he

seized the left rein of his horse's bridle and, pulling on it,

swung him about in a large circle, letting go his hold only

when they were riding away from the enemy.

Washington offered no resistance, and rode the hundred

yards to where the rest of his staff were standing, with bowed

head. Nothing was said as he rejoined the group, and Blueskin,

disappointed in the charge for which he had shown as

much eagerness as his rider, let his mind recur to thoughts of

oats; finding no control in the hand that held his bridle, he

set out at an easy trot toward headquarters.

They had not ridden many yards ere Washington lifted his

head, the expression of hopelessness, which had taken the

place of that of animation, in turn succeeded by one of stern

repose. He issued three orders to as many of the riders,

showing that his mind had not been dwelling idly on the

disaster, slipped his sword into its scabbard, and gathered up

his reins again.

"There!" thought Blueskin, as a new direction was indicated

by his bit, "I'm going to have another spell of it

riding all ways of a Sunday, just as we did last night. And

it 's coming on to rain."

Rain it did very quickly; but from post to post the horsemen

passed, the sternly silent commander speaking only when

giving the necessary orders to remedy so far as possible the

disaster of the afternoon. Not till eleven, and then in a

thoroughly drenched condition, did they reach the Morris

House on Haarlem Heights. It was to no rest, however,

that the general arrived; for, as he dismounted, Major Gibbs

of his life guards informed him that the council of war he had

called was gathered and only awaited his attendance.

"Get you some supper, gentlemen," he ordered, to such of

his aides as were still of the party, "for 't is likely that you

will have more riding when the council have deliberated."

"'T is advice he might take himself to proper advantage,"

said one of the juniors, while they were stripping off their wet

coverings in a side room.

"Ay," asserted Brereton. "The general uses us hard,

Tilghman, but he uses himself harder." Then aloud he

called, "Billy!"

"Yis, sah!"

"Make a glass of rum punch and take it in to his

Excellency."

"Foh de Lord, sah, I doan dar go in, an' yar know marse

neber drink no spirits till de day's work dun."

"Make a dish of tea, then, you old coward, and I'll take

it to him so soon as I get these slops off me. 'Fore George!

How small-clothes stick when they 're wet!"

"You mean when a man 's so foppish that he will have

them made tight enough to display the goodness of his thighs,"

rejoined Gibbs, who, being dry, was enjoying the plight of the

rest. "Make yourselves smart, gentlemen, there are ladies at

quarters to-night."

"You don't puff that take-in on us, sirrah," retorted

Tilghman.

"'Pon honour. They arrived a six hours ago, and have

been waiting to see the general."

"You may be bound they are old and plain," prophesied

Brereton, "or Gibbs would be squiring them, 'stead of wasting

time on us."

"There you 're cast," rejoined the major, "I caught but a

glimpse, yet 't was enough to prove to me that all astronomers

lie."

"How so?"

"In saying that but twice in a century is there a transit of

Venus."

"Then why bide you here, man?"

"That's the disgustful rub. They were with a man under

suspicion, and orders were that none should hold converse

with him before the general examined into it. A plague

on't!"

Discussion of Venus was here broken by the announcement

of supper, and the make-shift meal was still unfinished when

the general's body-servant appeared with the tea. Taking it,

Brereton marched boldly to the council door, and, giving a

knock, he went in without awaiting a reply.

The group of anxious-faced men about the table looked up,

and Washington, with a frown, demanded, "For what do you

interrupt us, sir?"

The young officer put the tea down on the map lying in

front of the general. "Billy didn't dare take this to your

Excellency, so I made bold to e'en bring it myself."

"This is no time for tea, Colonel Brereton."

"'T is no time for the army to lose their general," replied

the aide. "I pray you drink it, sir, for our sake if you won't

for your own."

A kindly look supplanted the sternness of the previous

moment on the general's face. "I thank you for your

thoughtfulness, Brereton," he said, raising the cup and pouring

some of the steaming drink into the saucer. Then as the

officer started to go, he added, "Hold!" Picking up a

small bundle of papers which lay on the table, he continued:

"Harrison tells me that there is a prisoner under guard for

my examination. I shall scarce be able to attend to it this

evening, and to-morrow is like to be a busy day. Take

charge of the matter, and report to me the moment the

council breaks up. Here are the papers."

Standing in the dim light of the hallway, the aide opened

the papers and read them hastily. Either the strain on the

eyes, or some emotion, put a frown on his face, and it was

still there as he walked to the door before which stood a

sentry, and passed into a badly lighted room.

"Powerful proud ter meet yer Excellency," was his greeting

from a man in civilian shorts and a military coat, who held

out his hand. "Captain Bagby desired his compliments ter

yer, an' ter say that legislative dooties pervented his attindin'

ter the matter hisself."

Paying no heed to either outstretched hand or words, the

officer looked first at a man standing beside the fireplace and

then at the two women, who had risen as he entered. He

waited a moment, glancing from one to the other, as if expecting

each of them to speak; but when they did not, he asked

gruffly of the guard, though still with his eyes on the prisoners:

"And for what were the ladies brought?"

"Becuz they wud n't be left behind on no accaount. Yer

see, yer Excellency, things hez been kinder onsettled in

Middlesex Caounty, an' it hain't been a joyful time to them

as wuz Tories; so when orders cum ter bring old Meredith ter

York Island, his wife an' gal wuz so scar't nothin' would do

but they must come along."

"Ay," spoke up the man by the fireplace, bitterly. "A

nice pass ye've brought things to, that women dare not tarry

in their own homes for fear of insult."

"You may go," said the officer to the captor, pointing at

the door.

"Ain't I ter hear the 'zamination, yer Excellency?" demanded

the man, regretfully. "The hull caounty is sot on

known' ther fac's." But as the hand still pointed to the

entrance, the man passed reluctantly through it.

Taking a seat shadowed from the dim light of the solitary

candle, the officer asked: "You are aware, Mr. Meredith, on

what charge you are in military custody?"

"Not I," growled the master of Greenwood. "For more

than a year gone I've taken no part in affairs, but 't is all

of a piece with ye Whigs that--to trump up a charge

against--"

"This is no trumpery accusation," interrupted the officer.

"I hold here a letter to Sir William Howe, found after our

army took possession of Boston, signed by one Clowes, and

conveying vastly important information as to our lack of

powder, which he states he obtained through you."

"Now a pox on the villain!" cried the squire. "Has he

not tried to do me enough harm in other ways, but he must

add this to it? Janice, see the evil ye've wrought."

"Oh, dadda," cried the girl, desperately, "I know I was--

was a wicked creature, but I've been sorry, and suffered for

it, and I don't think 't is fair to blame me for this. 'T was not

I who brought him--"

"Silence, miss!" interrupted her mother. "Wouldst sauce

thy father in his trouble?"

"I presume you obtained the knowledge Clowes transmitted

from your daughter?" surmised the officer.

"My daughter? Not I! How could a chit of a girl know

aught of such things? Clowes got it from young Hennion,

and devil a thing had I really to do with it, write what he

pleases."

"Pray take chairs, ladies," suggested the aide, with more

politeness. "Now, sir, unravel this matter, so far as 't is

known to you."

When the squire's brief tale of how the information was

obtained and forwarded to Boston was told, the officer was

silent for some moments. Then he asked: "Hast had word

of Clowes since then?"

"Not sight or word since the night the--"

"Oh, dadda," moaned Janice, "please don't!"

"Since he attempted to steal my girl from me. And if

e'er I meet him I trust I'll have my horsewhip handy."

"Is Hennion where we can lay hold upon him?"

"Not he. 'T was impossible for him to get out of Boston,

try his best, and the last word we had of him--wrote to his

rascally father--was that he'd 'listed in Ruggles' loyalists."

"Then the only man we can bring to heel is this bond-servant

of thine."

"Not even he. The scamp took French leave, and if ye

want him ye must search your own army.

"Canst aid us to find him?"

"I know naught of him, or his doings, save that last June

I received the price I paid for his bond, through Parson

McClave, who perhaps can give ye word of him."

The officer rose, saying: "Mr. Meredith, I shall report on

your case to the general, so soon as he is free, and have small

doubt that you will be acquitted of blame and released. I

fear me you will find headquarters' hospitality somewhat wanting

in comfort, for we're o'ercrowded, and you arrive in times

of difficulty. But I'll try to see that the ladies get a room,

and, whatever comes, 't will be better than the guard-house."

He went to the hall door and called, "Grayson!"

"Well?" shouted back some one.

"There are two ladies to be lodged here for the night.

May I offer them our room?"

"Ay. And my compliments to them, and say they may

have my company along with it, if they be youngish."

"Tut, man," answered Brereton, reprovingly. "None of

your Virginian freeness, for they can hear you." He turned and

said: "You must be content with a deal feather-bed on the

floor here, Mr. Meredith, but if the ladies will follow me I

will see that they are bestowed in more comfortable quarters;"

and he led the way upstairs, where, lighting a candle, he

showed them to a small room, very much cluttered by military

clothes and weapons, thrown about in every direction. "I

apologise, ladies," he remarked; "but for days it 's been ride

and fight, till when sleeping hours came 't was bad enough to

get one's clothes off, let alone put them tidy."

"And indeed, sir, there is no need of apology," responded

Mrs. Meredith, warmly, "save for us, for robbing you of the

little comfort you possess."

"'T is a pleasure amid all the strife we live in to be able to

do a service," replied the officer, gallantly, as he bowed low

over Mrs. Meredith's hand and then kissed it. He turned to

the girl and did the same. "May you rest well," he added,

and left the room.

"Oh, mommy!" exclaimed Janice, "didst ever see a more

distinguished or finer-shaped man? And his dress and manners

are--"

"Janice Meredith! Wilt never give thy thoughts to something

else than men?"

"Well, Brereton," asked Tilghman as the aide joined his

fellow-soldiers, "how did his Excellency take your boldness?"

"As punishment he sent me to examine Gibbs' Venus."

"Devil take your luck!" swore Gibbs. "I'll be bound

ye made it none too short. Gaze at the smug look on the

dandy's face."

Brereton laughed gleefully as he stripped off his coat and

rolled it up into a pillow. "I've just kissed mamma's hand,"

he remarked.

"I can't say much for thy taste!"

"In order," coolly went on Brereton, as he stretched himself

flat on the floor, "that I might then kiss that of Venus--

and over hers I did not hurry, lads. Therefore, gentlemen,

my present taste is, despite Gibbs' slur, most excellent, and I

expect sweet dreams till his Excellency wants me. Silence in

the ranks."

XXIV

THE VALUE OF A FRIEND

As the sun rose on the following morning, Brereton

came cantering up to headquarters.

"Is his Excellency gone?" he demanded of the

sentry, and received reply that Washington had

ridden away toward the south ten minutes before. Leaving

his horse with the man, the aide ran into the house and returned

in a moment with a great hunk of corn bread and two

sausages in his hand. Springing into the saddle, he set off at

a rapid trot, munching voraciously as he rode.

"Steady, dear lass," he remarked to the mare. "If you

make me lose any of this cake, I'll never forgive you, Janice."

Fifteen minutes served to bring the officer to a group of

horsemen busy with field-glasses. Riding into their midst, he

saluted, and said: "The Maryland regiments are in position,

your Excellency." Then falling a little back, he looked out

over the plain stretched before them. Barely had he taken

in the two Continental regiments lying "at ease" half-way

down the heights on which he was, and the line of their

pickets on the level ground, when three companies of red-coated

light infantry debouched from the woods that covered

the corresponding heights to the southward. As the skirmishers

fell back on their supports, the British winded their bugles

triumphantly, sounding, not a military order, but the fox-hunting

"stole away,"--a blare intended to show their utter

contempt for the Americans.

Washington's cheeks flushed as the derisive notes came

floating up the hills, and he pressed his lips together in an

attempt to hide the mortification the insult cost him. "They

do not intend we shall forget yesterday," he said.

"We'll pay them dear for the insult yet," cried Brereton,

hotly.

"'T is a point gained that they think us beneath contempt,"

muttered Grayson; "for that is half-way to beating them."

"Colonel Reed, order three battalions of Weedon's and

Knowlton's rangers to move along under cover of the woods,

and endeavour to get in the rear of their main party," directed

the commander-in-chief after a moment's discussion with

Generals Greene and Putnam. "As you know the ground,

guide them yourself."

"Plague take his luck!" growled Brereton.

"Ha, ha!" laughed Tilghman, jeeringly. "Some of us

have hands to kiss and some regiments to fight. Harkee,

macaroni. The general thinks 't would be a pity to spot those

modish buskins and gloves. So much for thy dandyism."

"Colonel Brereton," said the general, "order the two Maryland

regiments to move up in support of Knowlton."

Brereton saluted, and, as he wheeled, touched his thumb to

his nose at Tilghman. "You are dished," he whispered.

"The general dresses too well himself to misjudge a man

because he tries to keep neat and a la mode."

A quarter of an hour later, as battalions of Griffiths' and

Richards' regiments advanced under guidance of Brereton,

the sharpness of the volleys in their front showed that the

fighting was begun; and in response to his order, they broke

into double-quick time. Once out of the timber, it was

to find the Connecticut rangers scattered in small groups

wherever cover was to be had, but pouring in a hot fire at

the enemy, who had been reinforced materially.

"Damn them!" cried Brereton. "Will they never fight

except under cover?" Louder he shouted: "Forward!

Charge them, boys!" The order given, he rode toward the

rangers. "Where's your colonel?" he shouted.

"Dead," cried one, "and there 's no one to tell us what

to do."

"Do?" roared the aide. "Get out from behind that

cover, and be damned to you. Show that Connecticut

does n't always skulk. Come on!"

A cheer broke out, and, without even stopping to form,

the men went forward, driving the enemy into the woods for

shelter, and then forcing them through it. The fire of the

British slackened as they fell back, and when new Continental

troops appeared on their right flank as well, the retreat

became almost a rout.

"We'll drive them the length of the island," yelled Brereton,

frantic with excitement, as the men went clambering up

the rocks after the flying enemy.

"Colonel Brereton, his Excellency directs you to call in the

regiments to their former position," shouted Grayson, cantering

up.

Brereton swore forcibly before he galloped among the men,

and even after they, in obedience to his orders, had fallen back

slowly and taken up their original position, he growled to the

aide as they began the ascent, "I'm sick of this over-caution,

Grayson! What in--"

"The general was right," asserted Grayson. "Look there."

He pointed over the treetops that they had now risen above to

where columns of Royal Highlanders and Hessian Yagers

were hastening forward at double-quick. "You would have

had a sharp skimper-scamper hadst been allowed to go another

half-mile."

"'T is too bad, though," sighed the young officer, "that

when the men will fight they have to be checked."

"Be thankful you did your double-quick in the cool of the

morning, and are done with it. Lord! it makes me sweat

just to see the way they are hurrying those poor Yagers. 'T is

evident we've given them a real scare."

Upon reaching the top of the height Brereton rode forward

to where Washington still stood. "I tried to have the'stole

away' sounded, your Excellency," he said exultingly, "but

those who knew it were so out of breath chasing them that

there was not a man to wind it."

Washington's eyes lighted up as he smiled at the enthusiasm

of the young fellow. "At least you may be sure that they

had less wind than you, for they ran farther. They've had

the best reply to their insult we could give them."

"Thet there fox they wuz gwine tu hunt did a bit of huntin'

hisself," chuckled Putnam.

"They are still falling back on their supports," remarked

Greene. "Evidently there is to be no more fighting to-day."

"They've had their bellyful, I guess," surmised Putnam.

"Then they 're better off than I am," groaned Brereton.

"I could eat an ox."

When the fact became obvious that the British had no intention

of renewing their intended attack, a general move was

made toward quarters, and as they rode Brereton pushed up

beside Washington and talked with him for a moment.

The commander ended the interview by nodding his head.

"Colonel Tilghman," he ordered, as Brereton dropped behind,

"ride on to announce our coming; also present my

compliments to Mr. Meredith and bespeak his company and

that of his ladies to dinner."

Mrs. Meredith and Janice, not having gone to bed till after

one the previous night, slept until they were wakened by the

firing; and when they had dressed and descended it was to

find headquarters practically deserted, save for the squire and

a corporal 's guard. At the suggestion of the servant who gave

them breakfast, they climbed to the cupola of the house, but

all they could see of the skirmish were the little clouds of

smoke that rose above the trees and the distant advance of

the British reinforcements. Presently even these ceased or

passed from view, and then succeeded what Janice thought a

very "mopish" two hours, terminated at last by the arrival of

the aide with his invitation, which sent her to her room for a

little extra prinking.

"If I had only worn my lutestring," she sighed. Her toilet

finished,--and the process had been lengthened by the trembling

of her hands,--Janice descended falteringly to go through

the hall to the veranda. In the doorway she paused, really

taken aback by the number of men grouped about on the grass;

and she stood there, with fifty eyes turned upon her, the

picture of embarrassment, hesitating whether to run away

and hide.

"Come hither, child," called her mother; and Janice, with

a burning face and down-turned eyes, sped to her side.

"This is my daughter Janice, your Excellency," she told the

tall man with whom she had been speaking.