"Well, then," urged Brereton, "at least stay and dine with

me at three, and you shall be free to leave by six. 'T is not

much over an hour's ride to the city."

"That we'll do with pleasure," assented O'Hara.

"Go on with the discussion, then, while I speak to the landlord,"

remarked Jack, rising and passing to the kitchen. "We

wish a dinner for six," he informed the publican, "by three

o'clock" Then in a low voice he continued: "And hark

you! One thing I wish done that is peculiar. Give us such

whiskey as we call for of thy best, with lemons and sugar, but

in place of hot water in the kettle, see to it that as often as it

is replenished, it be filled with thy newest and palest rum.

Understand?"

"Jerusalem!" ejaculated mine host. "You gentlemen of

the army must have swingeing strong heads to dilute whiskey

with raw rum."

"I trust not," replied the aide, drily.

When dinner was announced Brereton drew Grayson aside

for a moment and whispered: "'T is a matter of life and

death to me that these fellows be made too drunk to ride,

Will, yet to keep sober myself. You've got the head and

stomach of a ditcher; wilt make a sacrifice of yourself for my

sake?"

"And but deem it sport," replied Grayson, with a laugh;

and as he took his place at the table he remarked: "Gentlemen,

we have tested British valour, we have tested British.

courtesy, and found them not wanting, but we understand

that, though you turn not your backs to either our soldiery or

our ladies, there is one thing which can make you tremble,

and that is our good corn whiskey."

"Odds life!" cried O'Hara, "who has so libelled us?

Man, we'd start three glasses ahead of you, and then drink

you under the table, on a challenge, but for this ball that we

are due at."

"A pretty brag," scoffed Brereton, "since you have an excuse

to avoid its test. But come, we have three good hours; but

drink Grayson even in that time, and I will warrant you'll

not be able to sit your horses. Come, fill up your glasses

from decanter and kettle, and I will give you a toast to

begin, to which you must drink bumpers. Here 's to the

soldier who fights and loves, and may he never lack for

either."

Four hours later, when Brereton rose from the table,

Stevens and O'Hara were lying on the floor, Boudinot was

fallen forward, his head resting among the dishes on the table,

fast asleep, and Mobray and Grayson, clasped in each other's

arms, were reeling forth different ditties under the impression

that they were singing the same song. Tiptoeing from the

room, the aide went to the kitchen door and said to the

publican, "Order one of the dragoons to make ready Captain

Mobray's horse, as he wishes to ride back to Philadelphia."

In the passageway he took from the hook the hat, cloak, and

sword of the young officer, and, removing his own sash and

sabre, donned the three. Stealing back to the scene of the

revel, he found Mobray and Grayson now lying on the floor

as well, unconscious, though still affectionately holding each

other. Kneeling gently, he searched the pockets of the unconscious

man until the passport was lighted upon. Thrusting

it into his belt, he stole from the room.

"What are the orders for us, sir?" asked the dragoon who

held Mobray's horse, as the aide mounted.

With an almost perfect imitation of the baronet's voice,

Brereton answered, "Colonel O'Hara will issue directions

later," and then as he cantered down the road he added

gleefully: "Considerably later. What luck that it should be

Fred, whose voice I know so well that I can do it to the life

whenever I choose!" Then he laughed with a note of

deviltry. "I am popping my head into a noose," he said;

"but whether 't is that of hangman or matrimony, time only

will show."

XLV

IN THE JAWS OF THE LION

The ball had been in full progress for an hour when

a masker, who from his entrance had stood leaning

against the wall, suddenly left his isolated position

and walked up to one of the ladies.

"Conceal your face and figure as you will, Miss Meredith,

you cannot conceal your grace. Wilt honour me with this

quadrille?"

"La, Sir Frederick! That you should know me, and I never

dream it was you!" exclaimed the girl, as she gave her hand

and let him lead her to where the figures were being formed.

"There have been many guesses among the caps as to the

identity of him who has held himself so aloof, but not a one

suggested you. The disguise makes you look a good three

inches taller."

As they took position a feminine domino came boldly across

the room to them. "Is this the way you keep your word, Sir

William?" she demanded in a low voice, made harsh and

grating by the fury it expressed.

"You mistake me, madam," answered the dancer, "though

I would such a rapid promotion were a possibility."

The interloper made a startled step backward. "I have

watched you for a quarter hour," she exclaimed, as she turned

away, "and would have sworn to your figure."

"'T is wonderful," remarked Janice, "how deceiving a

domino can be."

The dance ended, her partner said: "Miss Meredith, I

have something to say to you of deepest consequence. Will

you not come away from this crowd?"

"Ah, Sir Frederick," pleaded the girl, "do not recur to it

again. Though you importune me for a day, I could but

make the same reply."

"Sir Frederick passes his word that he will not tease you

on that subject to-night; but speak I must concerning this

match with Lord Clowes."

"'T is in vain, sir," replied Janice; "for every moment

convinces me the more that I must wed him, and so you will

but make my duty the harder."

"I beg you to give me a word apart, for I have a message

to you from Colonel Brereton."

Janice's hand dropped from the officer's arm. "What is

it?" she asked.

"'T is not to be given here," urged the man. "I pray you

to let me order your equipage and take you away. Another

dance will be beginning on the moment, and some one will

claim you."

The girl raised her hand and once more placed it on her

partner's arm; taking the motion as a consent to his wishes,

the officer led her to the doorway.

"Call Miss Meredith's chair," he ordered of the guard

grouped about the outer door, and in a moment was able to

hand her into the vehicle.

"Where to?" he asked. "I mean--Home!" he cried,

in a far louder voice, as if to drown the slip, at the same

moment jumping in and taking his seat beside her.

As he did so, the girl shrank away from him toward her

corner of the gig. "Who are you?" she cried in a frightened

voice.

"Who should I be but John Brereton?"

"Are you mad," cried the girl, "to thus venture within the

lines?"

"The news which brought me was enough to make me so,"

answered Jack. "You cannot know what you are doing that

you so much as think of marrying that scum. For years he

has been nothing but a spy and mackerel, willing to do the

dirtiest work, and the scorn of every decent man in

London, as here. Are you, are your father and mother,

are your friends, all Bedlam-crazed that you even consider

it?"

"'T is as horrible to me as it is to you," moaned Janice;

"but it seems the only thing possible. Oh, Colonel Brereton,

if you but knew our straits,--dependent for all we have, and

with a future still more desperate,--you would not blame me

for anything I am doing." The girl broke into sobs as she

ended, and turning from him leaned her head against the

leathern curtain, where she wept, regardless of the fact that

the aide possessed himself of her hand, and tried to comfort

her, until the chaise drew up at its destination. Lifting rather

than helping her from the carriage, Jack supported the maiden

up the steps and into the hallway; but no sooner were they

there than she freed herself from his supporting arm and exclaimed,

"You must not stay here. Any instant you might

be discovered."

"Then take me to a room where we can be safe for a

moment. I shall not leave you till I have said my say."

"Ah, please!" begged the girl. "Some one is like to enter

even now."

Jack's only reply was to turn to the first door and throw it

open. Finding that all was dark within, he caught Miss

Meredith's fingers, and drew her in after him, saying, as he

did so, "Here we are safe, and you can tell me truly of your

difficulties."

With her hand held in both of the aide's, Janice began a

disconnected outpouring of the tale of her difficulties intermixed

by an occasional sob, caused quite as much by the

officer's exclamations of sympathy as by the misery of her position.

Before a half of it had been spoken one of the hands

grasping hers loosened itself, and she was gently drawn by an

encircling arm till her head could find support on his shoulder;

not resenting and indeed, scarcely conscious of the clasp, she

rested it there with a strange sense of comfort and security.

"Alas!" grieved Brereton, when all had been told, "I am

as deep, if not deeper, in poverty than you, and so I can

give you no aid in money. Bad as things are, however, there

is better possible than selling yourself to that worm, if you

will but take it."

"What?"

"The French have come to our aid at last, and are sending

us a fleet. If Howe will but be as slow as usual, and the

States but hasten their levies, we shall catch him between the

fleet and army and Burgoyne him. Even if he act quickly,

he can save himself only by abandoning Philadelphia and consolidating

his forces at New York. They may then fight on,

for both the strength and the weakness of the British is a natural

stupidity which prevents them from knowing when they are

beaten, but all doubt as to the outcome will be over. Once

more it will be possible for you to dwell at Greenwood, if you

will but--"

"But dadda says they will take it away and exile us,"

broke in Janice.

"I have no doubt the rag-tag politicians, if not too busy

scheming how to cripple General Washington, will set to on

some such piece of folly, for by their persecutions and acts of

outlawry and escheatage they have driven into Toryism enough

to almost offset the Whigs the British plundering has made.

But from this you can be saved if you will but let me." As

the officer ended, the clasp of his arm tightened, though it lost

no element of the caress.

"How?"

"I stand well in the cause; and though I could not, I fear,

save your property to you, they would never take it once it

were in Whig hands, and so by a marriage to me you can secure

it. Ah, Miss Meredith, you have said you do not love

me, and I stand here to-night a beggar, save for the sword I

wear; but I love you as never man loved woman before, and

my life shall be given to tenderness and care for you. Surely

your own home with me is better than exile with that cur!

And I'll make you love me! I'll woo you till I win you, my

sweet, if it take a life to do it." Raising the hand he held,

the aide kissed it fondly. "I know I've given you reason to

think me disrespectful and rough; I know I have the devil's

own temper; but if I've caused you pain at moments, I've

suffered tenfold in the recollection. Can you not forgive

me?" Once again he eagerly caressed her hand; and finding

that she offered no resistance to the endearments, Jack,

with an inarticulate cry of delight, stooped and pressed his

lips to her cheek.

On the instant Janice felt a hand laid on her shoulders, then

on her head, as if some one were feeling of her.

"Who is this?" demanded Jack, lifting his head with a

start.

The question was scarce uttered when the sound of a blow

came to the girl's ears, and the arm which had been supporting

her relaxed its hold, as the lover sank rather than fell to

the floor. With loud screams the girl staggered backward,

groping her way blindly in the dark. There came the sound

of feet hurrying down the hallway, and the door was thrown

open by one of the men servants, revealing, by the shaft of

light which came through it, the figure of Jack stretched on

the floor, with the commissary kneeling upon him, engaged in

binding his wrists with a handkerchief.

"Out to the stables, and get me a guard!" ordered Lord

Clowes. "I have a spy captured here. No; first light those

candles from the lamp in the hall. I advise ye, Miss Meredith,"

he said scoffingly, "that next time ye arrange an assignation

with a lover that ye take the precaution to assure yourself

that the room is unoccupied."

"Oh, Lord Clowes," implored the girl, "won't you let him

go for my sake?"

"That plea is the least likely of any to gain your wish,"

responded the baron, derisively.

"I will promise that I will never wed him, will never see

him again," offered Janice.

"Of that I can give ye assurance," retorted the commissary,

rising and picking up from where he had dropped it the horse

pistol with which he had stunned the unconscious man. "A

drum-head court-martial will sit not later than to-morrow

morning, Miss Meredith, and there will be one less rebel in the

world ere nightfall. Your promise is a fairly safe one to

make. Here," he continued, as the soldiers came running

into the room, "fetch a pail of water and douse it over this

fellow, for I want to carry him before Sir William. Ye were

wise not to remove your wraps, Miss Meredith, for I shall have

to ask your company as well."

When the aide was sufficiently conscious to be able to stand,

he was put between two of the soldiers, and ten minutes later

the whole party reached the house of the commander-in-chief.

Given entrance, without waiting to have their arrival announced,

the commissary led the way through the parlour into

the back room, where, about a supper table, the British commander,

Mrs. Loring, and two officers were sitting.

"Ye must pardon this intrusion, Sir William," explained

Lord Clowes, as Howe, in surprise, faced about, "but we have

just caught a spy red-handed, and an important one at that,

being none less than Colonel Brereton, an aide of Mr. Washington.

Bring him forward, sergeant."

As Jack was led into the strong light, Mrs. Loring started

to her feet with a scream, echoed by an exclamation of "By

God!" from one of the officers, while the three or four glasses

at Howe's place were noisily swept into a jumble by the impulsive

swing of the general's arm as he threw himself backward

and rested against the table.

"Charlie, Charlie!" cried Mrs. Loring. "You here?"

Standing rigidly erect, the aide said coldly, "My name is

John Brereton; nor have I the honour of your acquaintance."

"What's to do here?" ejaculated Lord Clowes. "I know

the man to be what he says, and that he has come in disguise

within our lines to spy."

Without looking at the commissary, Jack answered: "I

wore no disguise when I passed through your lines, nor have

I for a moment laid aside my uniform."

"Call ye those rags a uniform?" jeered the commissary.

Howe gave a hearty laugh. "Why, yes, baron," he

answered. "Know you not the rebel colours by this

time?"

"And how about the domino he wears over them, and the

mask I hold in my hand?" contended Lord Clowes.

"I procured them this evening at the Franklin house in

Second Street, as you will learn by sending some one to

inquire, merely to attend the ball."

A second exclamation broke from Mrs. Loring: "Then

't was you I mistook for--Sir William, I thought 't was you

from his figure."

Again the general laughed. "Ho, Loring," said he

to one of the officers. "What say you to that?"

"Take and hang me, or send me to the pest hole you kill

your prisoners in, but let me get away from here," raged Jack,

white with passion, as he gave a futile wrench in an attempt

to free his hands.

"Art so anxious to be hanged, boy?"

"'T is a fit end to a life begun as mine was!" answered

the aide.

"Oh, Sir William," spoke up Janice," he did not come to spy,

but only to see me. You will not hang him for that, surely?"

"Yoicks! Must you snare, even into the hangman's noose,

every one that looks but at you, Miss Janice? If the day

ever comes when the innocent no longer swing for the guilty,

't is you will be hung."

"We lose time over this badinage, Sir William," complained

the commissary, angrily. "The fellow is a spy without

question."

"He is not," cried Mrs. Loring; "and he shall not even

be a prisoner. You will not hold him, Sir William, when he

came but to see the maid he loves?"

"Come, sir," said the general. "Wilt ask thy life of me?"

"No. And be damned to you!"

"You see, Jane."

"I care not what he says; you shall let him go free."

"Are ye all mad?" fumed the commissary.

"He ever had the art of getting the women on his side,

Clowes," laughed Sir William, good-naturedly. "How the

dear creatures love a man of fire! Look you, boy, with such

a friend as Mrs. Loring--to say nothing of others--no limit

can be set to your advancement, if you will but put foolish

pride in your pocket, and throw in your lot with us."

"I'd sooner starve with Washington than feast with you."

"That 's easily done!" remarked Loring, jeeringly.

"Not so easily as in your prisons," retorted Jack.

"Don't be foolish and stick to your tantrums, lad," persuaded

Howe.

"Is a man foolish who elects to stick to the winning side?

For you are beaten, Sir William, and none know it better than

you."

"Damn thy tongue!" roared Howe, springing up.

"Don't blame him for it, William," cried Mrs. Loring.

"How can he be other than a lad of spirit?"

Howe fell back into his seat. "There 't is again. Ah,

gentlemen, the sex beat us in the end! Well, Jane, since

thou 't commander-in-chief, please issue thy orders."

"Set him free at once."

"We can scarce do that, though we'll not hang him as a

spy, lest all the caps go into mourning. Commissary Loring,

he is yours; we will hold him as a prisoner of war."

"Do that and you must answer for it," said Jack. "You

can hang me as a spy, if you choose, but yesterday I rode into

Germantown under a flag of truce, and on your own pass, as

one of the commissioners of exchange. What word will you

send to General Washington if you attempt to hold me

prisoner?"

"Well done!" exclaimed Howe. "One would almost

think it had been prearranged. Release his arms, sergeant.

Loring, let the boy have a horse and a pass to Germantown.

I rely on your honour, sir, that you take no advantage of what

you have seen or heard within our lines."

Jack bowed assent without a word.

"And now, sir, that you are free," went on Sir William,

"have you no thanks for us?"

"Not one."

"Ah, Charlie," begged Mrs. Loring, "just a single word of

forgiveness."

Without a sign to show he heard her, Jack went to Janice

and took her hand. "Don't forget my pledge. Save you I

can, if you will but let me." He stooped his head slightly

and hesitated for a moment, his eyes fixed on her lips, then

he kissed her hand.

And as he did so, Mrs. Loring burst into tears. "You are

killing me by your cruelty," she cried.

"Ah, Colonel Brereton, say something kind to her!"

begged the girl, impulsively.

Wheeling about, Jack strode forward, till he stood beside

the woman. "This scoundrel," he began, indicating Clowes

with a contemptuous gesture, "is seeking to force Miss Meredith

into a marriage: save her from that, and the wrong you

did me is atoned."

"I will; I will!" replied Mrs. Loring, lifting her head

eagerly. "I'll--Ah, Charlie, one kiss--just one to show

that I am forgiven--No, not for that," she hurriedly added,

as the aide drew back--"to show--for what I will do for

her. Everything I can I will--Just one."

For an instant Brereton hesitated, then bent his head; and

the woman, with a cry of joy, threw her arms about his neck,

and kissed him not once, but five or six times, and would

have continued but for his removing her hands and stepping

backward.

"Come, sir,", said Loring, irritably, "if the whole army is

not to have wind of this, follow me. Daybreak is not far

away, and you should be in the saddle."

The aide once more went to Janice, and would have again

taken her hand; but the girl shrank away, and turned her back

upon him.

"One farewell," pleaded Jack.

"You have had it," replied Janice, without turning.

"Ay. Be off with you," seconded Howe, and without a

word Brereton followed Loring from the room.

As the front door banged, and ere any one had spoken, the

thunder of a cannon sounded loud and clear, and at short

intervals other booms succeeded, as if the first was echoing

repeatedly. But the trained ear of the general was not

deceived.

"'T is the water battery saluting," he said, rising. "So Sir

Henry Clinton has evidently arrived. Come, gentlemen, 't is

only courteous that we meet him at the landing."

XLVI

THE FAREWELL TO HOWE

In the movement that ensued, Janice slipped into the

hallway, and in a moment she was scurrying along

the street, so busy with her thoughts that she forgot

the satin slippers which had hitherto been so carefully

saved from the pavements. She had not gone a square when

the sound of footsteps behind her made the girl quicken her

pace; but instantly the pursuer accelerated his, and, really

alarmed, Janice broke into a run which ended only as she

darted up the steps of her home, where she seized the

knocker and banged wildly. Before any one had been roused

within, the man stood beside her, and with his first word the

fugitive recognised Lord Clowes.

"I meant not to frighten ye," he said; "but ye should not

have come away alone, for there are pretty desperate knaves

stealing about, and had ye encountered the patrol, ye would

have been taken to the provost-marshal for carrying no

lantern."

Relieved to know who it was, but too breathless to make

reply, Janice leaned against the lintel until a sleepy soldier

gave them entrance. There was a further delay while Lord

Clowes ignited a dip from the lamp and lighted her to the

stairway. Here he handed it to her, but retaining his own

hold, so as to prevent her departing, he said--

"I lost my temper at hearing that young scamp make such

ardent love, and so I spoke harshly to ye. Canst not make

allowance for a lover's jealousy?"

"Please let me have the light."

"Whether ye pardon me or no, of one thing I am sure,"

went on Clowes, still holding the candle, "ye are not so love-sick

of this rogue as to overlook his seeking the aid of his discarded

mistress in his suit of ye. I noted your look as she

kissed him."

"'T is not a subject I choose to discuss with you, nor is it

one for any gentlewoman," said Janice, dropping her hold on

the candle and starting upstairs. At the top she paused long

enough to say, "Nor do I trust your version," and then

hurried to her room and bolted the door.

Here, dark as it was, she went straight to the bureau, and

pulling open the bottom drawer fumbled about in it. Her

hands presently encountered the unfinished purse, and for a

moment they closed on it, while something resembling a sob

escaped her. But with one hand she continued searching;

and so soon as her groping put her fingers on the miniature

of Mrs. Loring she rose, and feeling the way to a window, she

opened it and threw out the slip of ivory. The girl made a

motion as if to send the purse after it, but checked the impulse,

and forgetting to close the window, and without a

thought of her once treasured gown, she threw herself on the

bed, and began to sob miserably. Before many minutes, worn

out with excitement, fatigue, and the lateness, she fell asleep, but

it was only to dream uneasily over the night's doings, in which

all was a confused jumble, save for the eager tones of her

lover's voice as he pleaded his suit, the sight of him as he lay

on the floor after the candles had been lighted, and, finally,

the look in his eyes as he made his farewell. Yet no sooner

did these recur than they were succeeded by that of Mrs.

Loring's eager and passionate kissing of Brereton, and each

time this served to bring Janice back into a half-awake

condition.

After breakfast the next morning, as she was pretendedly

reading Racine's "Iphigenie," lest her mother should find her

doing nothing and order her to some task, a letter was

handed her by one of the servants, with word that it had

been brought by a soldier; and breaking the seal, Janice read:

My deer child

pleas do forgiv al i spoke to yu a bout the furst time i see yu

for i did not understan it at al i was dredful up set bi last nite

and feel mitey pukish this mawning, but i hope yu will cum to see

me soon for i want much to tawk with yu a bout how i can help

yu and to kiss and hugg yu for yu ar so prity that i shud

lov just to tuck yu lik sum one else did yu see how his eys lovd

yu when he was going a way he yused to look that way at me

and i cried mitey hard al nite at his krulty pleas cum soon

to unhapy

Jane Loring.

ps. i shal cum to yu if yu dont cum quick

"There is no answer," the maiden told the servant; then,

as he went to the door she added, "And should a Mrs. Loring

wish to see me, you will refuse me to her."

Left alone, Janice went to the fireplace, in which the

advance of spring no longer made a fire necessary, and, taking

from its niche the tinder box, she struck flint on steel, and

in a moment had a blaze started. Not waiting to let it gain

headway, she laid the letter upon the flame, and held it there

with the tongs till it ignited. "I knew without your telling

me," she said, "that he no longer loved you, and great wonder

it is, considering your age, that he ever could."

"Hast turned fire-worshipper?" demanded Andre's voice,

merrily, as she still knelt, "for if so, 't will be glad news for

the sparks."

The girl sprang to her feet. "I--I was just burning a

--a--some rubbish," she answered.

"Here I am, not in the lion's den, but in the jackal's, and

my stay must be brief. Canst detect that I am big with

news?"

"Of what?"'

"This morning Sir Henry Clinton arrived, and for the first

time the army learns that Sir William has resigned his

command, and is leaving us. The field officers wish to mark

his departure by a farewell fete in his honour, and as it would

be a mockery without the ladies, we are appealing to them to

aid us. We plan to have a tourney of knights, each of whom

is to have a damsel who shall reward him with a favour at the

end of the contest. I have bespoken fair Peggy for mine,

and I am sure Mobray, who is not yet returned, will ask you.

Wilt help us?"

"Gladly," assented Janice, eagerly, "if dadda will let me."

"I met him in High Street on my way here, made my

plea, and, though at first he pulled a negative look, when I

reminded him he owed Sir William for a good place, he

relented and said you could."

"And what am I to do?"

"You are to be gowned in a Turkish costume, in the--"

"Nay, Captain Andre" replied Janice, shaking her head,

"we are too poor to spend any money in such manner."

"Think you the knights are so lacking in chivalry that we

could permit our guests to pay? The subscription is large

enough to cover all expenses, the stuffs are already purchased,

and all you will have to do is to make them up in the manner

of this sketch."

"Then I accept with pleasure and thanks."

"'T is we owe the thanks. And now farewell, for I have

much to do."

"Captain Andre," said the girl, as he opened the door, "I

have a question--Wilt answer me something?"

"Need you ask?"

"I suppose 't is a peculiar one, and so--Do you--is it

generally thought by--Do the gentlemen of the army deem

Mrs. Loring beautiful?"

"Too handsome for the good of our--of the army."

"Even though she paints and powders?"

"But in London and Paris 't is the mode."

"I think 't is a horrid custom."

"And so would every woman had she but thy cheeks. Ah,

Miss Meredith, 't is easy for the maid whose tints are a daily

toast at the messes to blame those to whom nature has not

given a transparent skin and mantling blood."

When Mobray returned from Germantown, he at once

sought out Janice and confirmed Andre's action. Though he

found her working on the costume, it was with so melancholy

a countenance that he demanded the cause.

"T is what you know already," moaned the girl, miserably.

"Lord Clowes is pressing me for an answer, and now dadda is

urgent that I give him ay."

"Why?"

"He went to see Sir Henry, and had so cold a reception

that he thinks 't is certain he is to lose his place, let alone the

report that General Clinton was heard to say Sir William's

friends were to be got rid of. What can we do?"

"But Char--Brereton assured me he had spoked the

fellow's wheel by securing the aid of--"

"'T is naught to me what he has done," interrupted Janice,

proudly; "nor did I give him the right to intervene."

"You must not give yourself to Clowes. 'T is--ah--

rather than see that I'll speak out."

"About what?"

"Leftenant Hennion is not dead! 'T was but another of

Clowes' lies, and your father shall know it, let him do his

worst." Without giving his courage time to cool, the young

fellow dashed across the hallway to the office where the commissary

and squire were sitting, and announced: "News, Mr.

Meredith. Leftenant Hennion is alive, for his name was on

the rebel lists of prisoners to be exchanged."

"Oddsbodikins!" ejaculated the squire. "Here 's an upset,

Clowes, to all our talk."

"Ye'll not be fool enough to let it make any difference,"

growled the baron, his eyes resting on Mobray with a look that

boded no good. "Ye'll only increase your difficulties by

holding to that old folly."

"Nay, Clowes, Lambert Meredith ne'er broke his word to

any man, and, God helping, he never will."

With a real struggle, the commissary held his anger in check.

"I'll talk of this later," he said, after a pause, "when I can

speak less warmly than now I feel. As for ye, sir," he said,

facing Mobray, "I will endeavour--the favour ye have done

shall not be forgotten."

"Take what revenge you please, my Lord," replied Mobray,

his voice shaking a little none the less, "I have done what as a

gentleman I was compelled to do, and am ready for the consequences,

be they what they may."

"A fit return for my lenience," remarked Clowes to the

squire after Sir Frederick had made his exit. "He has long

owed me money, for which I have never pressed him, yet now

he would have it that if I but ask payment, 't is revenge."

One result of Mobray's outbreak was to give Janice another

knight for the pageant.

"'T is a crying shame," Andre told her; "but poor Fred

has gone to the wall at last, and is to be sold up. Therefore he

chooses to withdraw from the tourney, and begs me to make

his apologies to you, for he is too dumpish to wish to see any

one. 'T will make no difference to you, save that you will

have Brigade Major Tarleton in place of the baronet."

"Can nothing be done for him?" asked Janice.

"Be assured, if anything could be, his fellow-officers would

not have allowed the army to lose him, for he is loved by

every man in the service; but he is in for over eight thousand

pounds."

"'T is very sad," sighed Janice. "I thought him a man of

property," she added aloud, while to herself she said, "Then it

could not have been he who bought my miniature."

"Nay, he was sometimes in funds by his winnings, but he

long since scattered his patrimony."

Janice's letter to Tabitha had long before, by its length, become

in truth a journal, and to its pages were confided an

account of the farewell fete to the British general:--

"'The Mischianza,' as 't is styled; Tibbie, began at four

o clock in the afternoon with a grand regatta, all the galleys and

flatboats being covered with awnings and dressed out with colours

and streamers, making a most elegant spectacle. The embarkation

took place at the upper end of the city, mommy and I entering

the 'Hussar' which bore Sir William Howe. Preceded by

the music boats, the full length of the town we were rowed,

whilst every ship was decked with flags and ensigns, and the

shores were crowded with spectators, who joined in 'God save

the King' when the bands played it; and the 'Roebuck' frigate

fired a royal salute. About six we drew up opposite the Wharton

house, and landing, made our way between files of troops and

sailors to a triumphal arch that ushered to an amphitheatre

which had been erected for the guests, of whom, Tibbie, but four

hundred were invited. Behind these seats spectators not to be

numbered darked the whole plain around; held in check by a

strong guard which controlled their curiosity. The fourteen

knights' ladies (selected, Tibbie, so 't was given out, as the fore-most

in youth, beauty, and fashion, and into a fine frenzy it threw

those maids who were not asked) were seated in the front, and

though 't is not for me to say it, we made a most pleasing display.

Our costume was fancy, and consisted of gauze turbans, spangled

and edged with gold and silver, on the right side of which a veil

of the same hung as low as the waist, and the left side of the

turban was enriched with pearls and tassels of gold or silver,

crested with a feather. The jacket was of the polonaise kind; of

white silk with long sleeves, and sashes worn around the waist

tied with a large bow on the left side, hung very low and trimmed,

spangled; and fringed according to the colours of the knight.

But, wilt believe it, Tibbie, instead of skirts, 't was loose trousers,

gathered at the ankle, we wore, and a fine to-do mommy made at

first over the idea, till dadda said I might do as the other girls

did; though indeed, Tibbie, 't is to be confessed I felt monstrous

strange, and scarce enjoyed a dance through thought of them.

And here let me relate that this was the ostensible reason for Mr.

Shippen refusing to allow Margaret and Sarah to take part

after they had their gowns made (and weren't they dancing

mad at being forbid!), but 't is more shrewdly suspected that

't was because of a rumour (which no thinking person credits) that

Philadelphia is to be evacuated, and so, being a man of no opinions,

he chose not to risk offending the Whigs.

"Once seated; the combined bands of the army sounded a very

loud and animated march, which was the signal for the beginning

of the ceremony of the carousel. The seven knights of The

Blended Rose, most marvellously dressed in a costume of the

Henry IV. period of France (which, being so beyond description,

I have endeavoured a sketch), on white horses, preceded by a herald

and three trumpeters, entered the quadrangle, and by proclamation

asserted that the ladies of The Blended Rose excelled in

wit, beauty, and accomplishment those of the whole world, and

challenged any knight to dispute it. Thereupon appeared the

seven knights of The Burning Mountain, and by their herald

announced that they would disprove by arms the vainglorious

assertions of the knights of The Blended Rose and show that the

ladies of The Burning Mountain as far excelled all others in

charms as the knights themselves surpassed all others in prowess.

Upon this a glove of defiance was thrown, the esquires presented

their knights with their lances, the signal for the charge was

sounded, and the conflict ensued, until on a second signal they fell

back, leaving but their chiefs in single combat. These fighting

furiously, were Presently parted by the judges of the field, with

the announcement that they were of equal valour, and their ladies

of equal beauty. Forming in single file, they advanced and

saluted, and a finish was put to this part of the entertainment.

"We now retired to the house for tea, where the knights,

having dismounted, followed us, and paid homage to their fair

ones, from each of whom they received a favour. The ball then

succeeded, which lasted till nine, when the company distributed

themselves at the windows and doors to view fireworks of marvellous

beauty, ending with a grand illumination of the arch.

More dancing then occupied us, till we were summoned to supper,

which was served in a saloon one hundred and eighty feet

long, gaily painted and decorated; and made brilliant by a great

number of lustres hung from the roof, while looking-glasses,

chandeliers, and girandoles decked the walls, the whole enlivened

by garlands of flowers and festoons of silk and ribbons. Here

we were waited upon by twenty-four negroes in blue and white

turbans and party-coloured clothes and sashes, whilst the most

pathetic music was performed by a concealed band. Toasts to

the king and queen, the royal family, the army and navy, with

their respective commanders, the knights and their ladies, and

the ladies in general, were drunk in succession, each followed

by a flourish of music, when once again the dancing was resumed,

and lasted till the orb of day intruded his presence

upon us.

"Sir William left us at noon to-day, regretted by the whole

army, and, as I write this, I can hear a salute of guns in

honour of Sir Henry Clinton's assuming the command. Pray

Heaven he does not remove dadda.

"At last I know, Tibbie, what court life must be like."

Three days after the departure of Howe, the squire came into

dinner, a paper in hand, and with a beaming face. "Fine

news!" he observed. "I am not to be displaced."

"Good!" cried the commissary, while Janice clapped her

hands. "I spoke to Sir Henry strongly in your favour, and

am joyed to hear that it has borne fruit."

"How dost thou know, Lambert?" asked Mrs. Meredith.

"I have here an order to load the 'Rose' tender with such

rebel property as the commissaries shall designate, and superintend

its removal to New York. They 'd ne'er employ me

on so long a job, were I marked to lose my employment, eh,

Clowes?"

"Well reasoned. For 't is not merely a task of time, but one

of confidence. But look ye, man, if ye 're indeed to make a

voyage to York and back, which will likely take a month, 't is

best that we settle this question of marriage ere ye go. I've

given Miss Janice time, I think ye'll grant, and 't will be an

advantage in your absence that she and Mrs. Meredith have

one bound to protect them."

"I'd say ay in a moment, Clowes, but for my word to

Hennion."

"'T is a promise thou shouldst ne'er have made, and which

it is now thy every interest to be quit of, let alone that 't is so

distasteful to thy daughter."

"A promise is a promise," answered the father, with an

obstinate motion of head.

"And a fool 's a fool," retorted Clowes, losing his temper.

"In counsel and aid I've done my best for ye; now go your

gait, and see what comes of it."

A week later, Mr. Meredith bade farewell to wife and

daughter.

"I wish you were n't going, dadda," Janice moaned. "'T is

so akin to last summer that it frights me."

"Nay, lass, be grateful that I have the job to do, and that

with good winds I shall return within a fortnight. Clowes

has passed his word that ye shall want for nothing. I'll be

back ere ye know I've gone."

There was a good cause, however, for the girl's fear of the

future, for in less than a week from her father's sailing, on every

street corner, in every tavern, and in every drawing-room of

the town the news that Philadelphia was to be evacuated was

being eagerly and anxiously discussed.

XLVII

THE EVACUATION

Confirmation of the rumour, so far as Mrs. Meredith

and Janice were concerned, was first received

through the commissary.

"Ay," he told them, when questioned; "'t was

decided at a council of war the very day Howe left us, and

that was why we at once began transferring our stores and the

seized property to New York, one cargo of which your husband

was put in charge. 'T will tax our shipping to the utmost to

save it all."

"But why didst thou not warn us, so that we might have

embarked with him?" asked Mrs. Meredith.

"'T was a military secret to be told to no one."

"Can dadda return ere the evacuation begins?"

"'T is scarce possible, even if his orders permit it."

"Then what are we to do?"

"Thou hadst best apply at once to the deputy quartermaster-general

for transports."

Mrs. Meredith acted on this advice the following day, but

without success.

"Think you the king's ships and transports have naught to

do but act as packet-boats for you Americans?" the deputy

asked. "Hundreds of applications have been filed already,

and not another one will we receive. If you 'd for New York,

hire a passage in a private ship."

This was easier to recommend than to do, for such was the

frantic demand for accommodation that the prices had been

raised to exorbitant figures, quite beyond their means. So

appeal was made once more to Clowes.

"'T is something of a quandary," he remarked; "but there is

a simple way out."

"What?"

"I'd have saved ye all worry over the matter but that I

wished ye to learn the difficulties. I have never made pretence

to doing favours out of mere kindness of heart, and ye

know quite as well as I why I have given ye lodging and other

aids. But for that very reason I am getting wearied of doing

all and receiving nothing, and have come to the end. Give me

Miss Janice, and my wife and mother shall have passage in the

ship I sail in."

"You take a poor way, Lord Clowes, to gain your wish,"

said Janice. "Generosity--"

"Has had a six months' trial, and brought me no nearer to

a consummation," interrupted the baron. "Small wonder I

sicken of it and lose patience."

"'T is not to be expected that I would let Janice wed thee

when her father has given thee nay."

"Because he has passed his word to another, and so holds

himself bound. He said he'd consent but for that, and by acting

in his absence ye can save him a broken oath, yet do the

sensible thing. He'll be glad enough once done; that I'll

tie to."

"It scarce betters it in a moral sense," replied Mrs. Meredith.

"However, we will not answer till we have had a chance to discuss

it by ourselves."

"Janice," said her mother, once they were alone, "thy

dread of that man is a just one, and I--"

"I know--I know," broke in the daughter, miserably; "but

I--if I can make us all easy as to money and future--"

"Those are but worldly benefits, child."

"But, mommy," said the girl, chokingly, as she knelt at her

mother's feet and threw her arms about Mrs. Meredith's waist,

"since live we must, what can we do but--but--Oh, would

that I had never been born!" and then the girl buried her

head in her mother's lap.

"'T is most unseemly, child, to speak so. God has put us here

to punish and chasten us for Adam's sin; and 't is not for us,

who sinned in him, to question His infinite wisdom."

"Then I wish He 'd tell me what it is my duty to do!"

lamented Janice.

"Thinkest thou he has nothing to do but take thought of thy

affairs?"

"Wouldst have me marry him, mommy?" asked the girl,

chokingly.

"Let us talk no further now, child, but take a night's thought

over it."

They were engaged in discussing the problem the following

afternoon, when Lieutenant Hennion burst in upon them.

"Why, Phil!" cried Mrs. Meredith; and Janice, springing

from her chair, met him half-way with outstretched hand, while

exclaiming, "Oh, Mr. Hennion, 't is indeed good to see an old

friend's face."

"'T is glad tidings ter me ter hearn you say that," declared

Philemon, eagerly. "Yestere'en General Lee and the other

rebel prisoners came out from Philadelphia, and we, having

been brought from Morristown some days ago, were at once set at

liberty; but 't was too late ter come in, so we waited for daylight.

I only reported at quarters, and then, learning where you lodged,

I come--I came straight ter--to find how you fared."

Alternating explanation and commentary, the women told of

their difficulties.

"I can't aid you to get aboard one of the ships, for I've had

ter draw my full pay all the time I was prisoner, the rebels nigh

starving us, let alone freezing, so money 's as scarce with me as

with you. But I'll go ter--to my colonel, and see if I can't

get permission that you may go with our baggage train."

"'T will be a benefit indeed, if you can do that," exclaimed

Mrs. Meredith.

"Then I'll not tarry now, but be off about it at once, for

there was a rumour at brigade headquarters that three regiments

had been ordered across the river this afternoon, and that it

meant a quick movement." He picked up his hat as if to go,

then paused, and haltingly continued, "I hope, Ja--Ja--

Janice, that you've come ter--to like--not to be so set

against what I wants so much. It 's nigh a year since I seen--

saw you last, but it 's only made me love you the better."

The girl, with a look of real contrition, answered, "Oh, Mr.

Hennion, do not force--'T would be wrong to us both if I

deceived you."

"You can't love me?"

"I--oh, I believe I am a giddy, perverse female, for I seem

able to care for no man."

"The world I'd give ter win you, Janice; but I'll not tease

you now, the more that I can be doing you a service, and that 's

joy enough."

Philemon went toward the door; but ere he had reached it

Janice had overtaken him and seized his hand in both of hers.

"You deserve to love a better maid," she said huskily, "and I

wish you might; but perhaps 't will be some comfort to you to

know that dadda holds to his promise, and--and that I am

less wilful and more obedient, I hope, than once I was."

As Philemon opened his mouth to make reply, he was cut

short by the entrance of the commissary, who halted and

frowned as he took in the hand-clasp of the two.

"Humph!" he muttered, and then louder remarked, "Yet

another! Ye'll be pleased to know, sir, that Miss Meredith's

favours mean little. But a month since I caught that fellow

Brereton regaling himself with her lips."

"That's a lie, I know," retorted Philemon, angrily; but as

he glanced at the girl and saw her crimson, he exclaimed,

"You just said you cared for no man!"

"It--it was at a moment when I scarce knew what I did"

faltered Janice, "and--and--now I would not be kissed by

him for anything in the world. I--I am--I was honest in

what I said to you, Philemon."

"I'll believe anything you say, Janice," impulsively replied

the lieutenant, as with unprecedented boldness he raised her

hand to his lips. Then facing Clowes he said: "And I advise

you ter have a care how you speak of Miss Meredith. I'll

not brook hearing her aspersed." With this threat he left the

room.

"I regret to have been an intruder on so tender a scene,"

sneered the commissary; "but I came with information that was

too important to delay. Orders have been issued that all ships

make ready to drop down the river with the tide at daybreak

to-morrow, and 't is said that the army will begin its march

across the Jerseys but a twenty-four hours later. So there is

no time to lose if ye wish to sail with me. The marriage must

take place by candle-light this evening, and we must embark

immediately after."

"Philemon has promised us his aid, Lord Clowes," replied

Mrs. Meredith, "and so we need not trouble thee."

"Hennion! But he must go with his regiment."

"He offers us a place in the baggage train."

"Evidently he has not seen the general orders. Clinton is

too good an officer to so encumber himself; and the orders

are strict that only the women of the regiments be permitted

to march with the army. I take it ye scarce wish to class

yourselves with them, however much it might delight the

soldiery."

"They could scarce treat us worse than thee, Lord Clowes,"

said Mrs. Meredith, indignantly. "Nor do I believe that even

the rank and file would take such advantage of two helpless

women as thou art seeking to do."

"Tush! I may state it o'er plainly; but my intention is

merely to make clear for your own good that ye have no other

option but that I offer ye."

"Any insults would be easier to bear than yours," declared

Janice, indignantly; "and theirs would be for once, while

yours are unending."

"Such folly is enough to make one forswear the whole sex,"

the commissary angrily replied. "Nor am I the man to put up

with such womanish humoursomeness. "I've stood your caprice

till my patience is exhausted; now I'll teach ye what--"

"Heyday!" exclaimed Andre, as a servant threw open the

door and ushered him in. "What have we here? I trust I

am not mal apropos?"

"Far from it," spoke up Janice. "And thou 'rt welcome."

"I come laden with grief and with messages," said Andre, completely

ignoring Clowes' presence. "Mr. Hennion, whom I met

at headquarters, asked me to tell you his request was refused,

that his regiment was even then embarking to cross the Delaware,

and that therefore he could not return, whatever his wish.

The Twenty-sixth is under orders to follow at daybreak to-morrow,

and so we plan an impromptu farewell supper this

evening at my quarters. Will you forgive such brief notice

and help to cheer our sorrow with your presence?"

"With more than pleasure," assented Mrs. Meredith; "and

if 't will not trouble thee, we will avail ourselves of thy escort

even now."

"Would that such trouble were commoner!" responded

Andre, holding open the door.

"Then we'll get our coverings without delay."

Lord Clowes, with a deepened scowl on his face, intercepted

them at the door. "One word in private with these ladies," he

said to the captain. Then, as Andre with a bow passed out first,

he continued, to the women: "I have warned ye that we must

be aboard ship ere ten. Refuse me my will, and ye'll not be able

to rejoin Mr. Meredith. Take my offer, or remain in the city."

"We shall remain," responded Mrs. Meredith.

"With your husband a warden of the seized property of the

rebels, and known to have carried away a ship-load of it? Let

me warn ye that the rebels whom we drove out of Philadelphia

will be in no sweet mood when they return and find what we

have destroyed or carried off. Hast heard how the Bostonians

treated Captain Fenton's wife and fifteen-year-old daughter?

Gentlewomen though they were, the mob pulled them out of

their house, stripped them naked in the public streets, smeared

them with tar and feathers, and then walked them as a spectacle

through the town. And Fenton had done far less to make himself

hated than Mr. Meredith. Consider their fate, and decide

if marriage with me is the greater evil."

"Every word thou hast spoken, Lord Clowes," replied Mrs.

Meredith, "has tended to make us think so."

"Then may you reap the full measure of your folly," raged

the commissary.

"Come, Janice," said her mother; and the two, without a

parting word, left him. Once upstairs, Janice flung her arms

about Mrs. Meredith's neck.

"Oh, mother," she cried, "please, please forgive me! I

have ever thought you hard and stern to me, but now I know

you are not."

Strive as those at the supper might, they could not make it a

merry meal. The officers, with a sense of defeat at heart, and

feeling that they were abandoning those who had shown them

only kindness, had double cause to feel depressed, while the

ladies, without knowledge of what the future might contain,

could not but be anxious, try their all. And as if these were

not spectres enough at the feast, a question of Mrs. Meredith as

to Mobray added one more gloomy shadow.

"Fred? alas!" one of the officers replied. "He was sold

out, and the poor fellow was lodged in the debtors' prison, as

you know. As we chose not to have them fall into the hands

of the rebels, a general jail delivery was ordered this morning,

which set him at large."

"And what became of him?" asked Janice.

"Would that I could learn!" groaned Andre. "As soon

as I was off duty, I sought for him, but he was not to be heard

of, go to whom I would. Bah! No more of this graveyard

talk. Come, Miss Meredith, I'll give you the subject for a

historical painting. I found of Franklin's possessions not a

little which took my fancy, and such of it as I chose I carry

with me to New York, as fair spoil of war. Prithee, draw a

picture of the old fox as he will appear when he hears of his

loss. 'T will at least give him the opportunity to prove himself

the 'philosopher' he is said to be. I have taken his oil portrait,

and when I get fit quarters again I shall hang it, and

nightly pray that I may live long enough to do the same to the

original. Heaven save me if ever I be captured, though, for I

make little doubt that in his rage he would accord me the very

fate I wish for him!"

When at last the evening's festivities, if such they might be

termed, were over, it was Andre, preceded by a couple of

soldiers with lanterns, who escorted them back to their home,

and at Janice's request he ordered the two men to remain in

the now deserted house.

"They must leave you before daybreak," the officer warned

them; "but they will assure you a quiet night. I would that

you were safe in New York, however, and shall rest uneasy till

I welcome you there. Ladies, you have made many an hour

happier to John Andre," ended the young officer, his voice

breaking slightly. "Some day, God willing, he will endeavour

to repay them."

"Oh, Captain Andre," replied Janice, "'t is we are the

debtors indeed!"

"We'll not quarrel over that at parting," said Andre, forcing

a merry note into his voice. "When this wretched rebellion is

over, and you are well back at Greenwood, and may that be

soon, I will visit you and endeavour to settle debit and credit."

Just as he finished, the sound of drums was heard.

"'T is past tattoo, surely?" Mrs. Meredith questioned with a

start.

"Ay," answered Andre. "'T is the rogue's march they are

ruffling for a would-be deserter who was drum-headed this evening,

and whom they are taking to the State House yard to hang.

Brrew! Was not the gloom of to-night great enough without

that as a last touch to ring in our ears? What a fate for a

soldier who might have died in battle! Farewell, and may it

be but a short au revoir," and, turning, the young officer hurried

away, singing out, in an attempt to be cheery, the soldier's

song:--

"Why, soldiers, why

Should we be melancholy, boys?

Why, soldiers, why,

Whose business 't is to die?

What, sighing? fie!

Drown fear, drink on, be jolly, boys.

'T is he, you, or I!"

XLVIII

A TIME OF TERROR

The Merediths were awakened the next morning by

sounds which told of the movements of troops, and

all day long the regiments were marching to the

river, and as fast as they could be ferried, were

transferred to the Jersey side, the townspeople who, by choice

or necessity, were left behind being helpless spectators meanwhile.

Once again the streets of Philadelphia assumed the

appearance of almost absolute desertion; for as the sun went

down the prudent-minded retired within doors, taking good

heed to bar shutters and bolt doors, and the precaution was

well, for all night long men might be seen prowling about the

streets,--jail-birds, British deserters, and other desperadoes,

tempted by hope of plunder.

Fearful for their own safety, Mrs. Meredith and Janice

failed not to use every means at hand to guard it, not merely

closing and securing, so far as they were able, every possible

entrance to the house, but as dark came on, their fear

led them to ascend to the garret by a ladder through a trap,

and drawing this up, they closed the entrance. Here they sat

crouched on the bare boards, holding each other, for what

seemed to them immeasurable hours; and such was the intensity

of the nervous anxiety of waiting that it was scarcely added

to, when, toward daybreak, both thought they detected the

tread of stealthy footsteps through the rooms below. Of this

they presently had assurance, for when the pound of horses'

hoofs was heard outside, the intruders, whoever they might be,

were heard to run through the hall and down the stairs with a

haste which proved to the miserable women that more than

they had cause for fear.

Hardly had this sound died away when a loud banging on

the front door reached even their ears, and after several repetitions

new fear was given them by the crashing of wood and

splintering of glass, which told that some one had broken in a

shutter and window to effect an entrance. Once again footsteps

on the stairs were heard, and a man rushed into the room

underneath them and came to a halt.

"Do you find them?" he shouted to some companion,

whose answer could not be heard. "What ho!" he went on

in stentorian voice. Is there any one in this house who

can give me word of a family of Merediths?"

Janice reached forward and raised the trap, but her mother

caught her arm away, and the door fell with a bang.

"'T is all right, mommy," the girl protested. "Didst not

hear the jingle of his spurs? 'T is surely an officer, and we

need not fear any such."

Even as she spoke the trap was raised by a sabre from below.

"Who 's above?" the man demanded, and as Janice

leaned forward and peeked through the opening, he went on,

"I seek--" There he uncovered. "Ah, Miss Meredith,

dark as it is above, I could pick you from a thousand by Colonel

Brereton's description. I was beginning to fear some misfortune

had overtaken you. I am Captain McLane of the light

horse. You can descend without fear."

With a relief that was not to be measured, the two dropped

the ladder into place and descended.

"Is Colonel Brereton here?" asked Mrs. Meredith.

"Not he, or I suspect he'd never have given me the thrice-repeated

charge to make sure of your safety. He is with the

main army, now in full pursuit of the British, and we'll hope

to come up with the rats ere they get safely to their old hole.

Since you are safe I must not tarry, for there is much to--"

"Oh, Captain McLane, can't you stay?" beseeched Janice.

"Do not leave us unprotected. I can't tell you what we have

suffered through thought of possible violence, and even now--"

"I will station a trooper at the door," the officer promised;

"but have no fear. Already patrols are established, and within

an hour broadsides will be posted about the city warning all

plunderers or other law-breakers that they will be shot or hanged

on sight. General Arnold, who is given command of the city,

intends there shall be no disturbance, and he is not the man

to have his orders broke."

Set at ease as to their safety, the first concern of the women

was a hastily improvised breakfast from the scantily supplied

larder which Clowes' servants had abandoned to them. In the

kitchen, as well as all over the house, they found ample signs

that pilferers had been at work, for every receptacle had been

thrown open, drawers dragged out, and the floor littered with

whatever the despoilers elected not to take. A month before

Janice would probably have been moved to tears at the discovery

that her "elegant and dashy robing," as well as her

Mischianza costume, had been stolen, but now she scarcely

gave either of them a thought, so grateful was she merely to

feel that they were safe from violence and insult.

In reinstating her own meagre possessions in their proper receptacles,

which was the girls after-breakfast occupation, she

came upon an unfinished silk purse, and this served to bring an

end for a time to the restoration of order, while she sat upon the

floor in a meditative attitude. Presently she laid it on the

bureau with a little sigh and returned to her task. Once this

was completed, she again took the purse, and seating herself, set

about its completion.

Afraid to stir out of doors, and with little to occupy her. the

next three days served to complete the trifle, elaborate and

complicated as the pattern was. Meantime, a steady stream of

Whigs flooded into the city, and from Captain McLane, who

twice dropped in to make sure of their well-being, they learned

that the Continental Congress was about to resume its sessions

in the city. Ocular proof that the rulers of America were assembling

was very quickly brought home to the two, for one

morning Janice, answering a rap of the knocker, opened the

door to the Honourable Joseph Bagby.

"Well, miss. I guess you 're not sorry to see an old friend's

face, are you. now that the dandiprat redcoats you've been

gallivanting with have shown that they prefer running away to

fighting?" was his greeting, as he held out his hand.

Janice, divided in mind by the recollection of his treatment

of them and by her fear of the future, extended her own and

allowed it to be shaken, as the easiest means of escaping the

still more difficult verbal response.

"Are n't you going to ask me in?" inquired the caller, "for

I've got something to say."

"I did n't know that you would want to," faltered Janice,

making entrance for him. "Mommy will be gla--will be in

the parlour," she said, leading the way to that room.

Without circumlocution, Bagby went at the object of his call

the moment the equally embarrassing meeting with Mrs. Meredith

was over.

"I came up to town," he announced," to 'tend Congress,

of which I'm now a member;" and here the speaker paused

as if to let the new dignity come home to his hearers. "Did n't

I tell you I was a rising man? But I had another object in

view in being so prompt, and that was to have a talk with you

to see if we can 't arrange things. 'T is n't given to every girl

to marry a Congressman, eh, miss?"

"I--I--suppose not," stammered Janice, frightened, yet

with an intense desire to laugh.

"Before I say anything as to that," went on Bagby, "I want

to tell you that I've been a good friend of yours. Old Hennion,

who 's come out hating your dad the worst way, was for introducing

a bill in Assembly last session declaring his lands forfeited,

but I told him I'd not have it."

"'T is but a duty man owes to prevent evil deeds," said Mrs.

Meredith.

"We are very grateful, Mr. Bagby," Janice thought it was

necessary to add, with not a little surprise in her voice.

"That's what I guessed you'd be," said the legislator.

"Says I to myself, 'They've made a mistake as to the side

they took but when they see that the British is beat, they'll do

most anything to put themselves right again and save their

property.' Now, if Miss Janice will marry me, there is n't any

reason why you should n't all come back to Greenwood and live

as fine as a fivepence."

"We should not be willing to give thee our daughter, Mr.

Bagby, even were she."

"But I am--for the compliment you offer, sir, I thank you,"

interjected Janice.

"Now, you just listen to reason," protested Joe. "You

must n't think it 's only the property I'm set on. I've made a

swipe of money in the last year--nigh forty thousand dollars--

Continental--so I can afford to marry whom I like; and though

I own that thirty thousand acres is no smouch of land, yet I'm

really soft on Miss Janice, and would marry her even if she

had n't money, now that I've got some of my own."

"It can make no difference, Mr. Bagby," replied the mother.

"Neither her father nor I would consent to her wedding thee,

and I know her wishes accord with ours."

Joe, with a somewhat bewildered face and a decidedly awkward

movement, picked up his hat. "It don't seem possible,"

he said, "that you'll throw away all that property; for, of

course, I'm not going to stand between you and old Hennion

when you show yourselves so unfriendly."

"'T is in the hands of One who knows best."

Bagby went to the door. "The Assembly meets on the

twenty-eighth," he remarked, "and I promised some of the

members I'd quit Congress to 'tend the early part of the session,

so I've got to go back to Trenton in three days. If you change

your mind before then, let me know."

"Oh, mommy," groaned the girl the moment the door closed,

"I wish there were no such things in the world as lovers!"

Then she told a yet greater untruth: "Or would that I had

been born as plain as Tibbie's aunt!"

"'T is ingratitude to speak thus, child. Hast already forgot

the help Philemon tried to give us, and what we owe to

Colonel Brereton?"

The girl made no response for a little, then said hurriedly,

"Mommy, dost think dadda, and wouldst thou wish me to wed

Colonel Brereton, provided 't would save us our lands and let

us live in peace at Greenwood?"

"I know not what to say, Janice. It would be a deliverance,

indeed, from a future black with doubt and trouble; but thy

father holds to his promise to Philemon, and I question if he'd

ever consent to have a rebel for a son-in-law. Nor do we

know that Colonel Brereton was not but speaking in jest when

he said what he did at Greenwood."

"He meant it, mommy," answered the daughter, "for--for

at grave risk he stole into Philadelphia last April to see me;

and then he vowed he could save us from the Whigs if--if--"

"And wouldst thou wed him willingly?" asked the mother,

when Janice lapsed into silence with the sentence unfinished.

With eyes on the floor and cheeks all aflame, the girl answered:

"I--I scarce know, mommy. At times when I am

with him I feel dreadfully excited and frightened--though

never in the way I am with Lord Clowes--and want to get

away; but the moment he is gone I--I wish him back, if only

he would do but what I'd have him--and yet I like him for--

for having his own way--as he always does--though I know

he'd do mine if--if I asked him."

"Janice, canst thou not speak less lightly and foolishly?"

chided Mrs. Meredith. "If thou lovest the man, say so without

such silly maunderings, which are most unbefitting of thy years."

"But I--I don't love Colonel Brereton, mommy," protested

the girl; "and I never could, after his--after knowing that he

once gave his love to that--"

"And art thou so foolish, Janice," demanded her mother, "as

to pretend that thou dost not care for him?"

"Really it--it would only be for you and dadda, and to save

the property, mommy," persisted Janice.

"Then why didst thou draw back from Lord Clowes and

Bagby?" asked the mother, sternly.

"But I--I could never have--have--Oh, mommy, there

is a cart just stopped at the door, and I'll see what is wanted,--

an excuse conveniently present for the flustered maiden to

escape an explanation.

As it proved, the arrival of the cart was of very material

moment, for by the time Janice was at the door a lean-visaged

woman had been helped from it, and her salutation was anything

but promising.

"Who are you. that you are in my house?" she demanded,

and then entered the hall, and, womanlike, would not listen to

the explanations that both Janice and her mother sought to

make. "Be off with you at once!" she ordered. "I'll not

have you here a minute. My son died of fever and starvation

in a freezing prison last winter while you made free of his

mother's home not a half-mile away. Be thankful I don't have

you arrested for the rent, or hound the people into treating you

Tory snakes as you deserve. No, you shall not stay to get

your clothes; into the street I'll bundle them when I have

got them together, and there you'll find them. Out with

you!"

Janice was for obeying, but Mrs. Meredith refused positively

to leave without packing. Hastily their scanty belongings were

bestowed in the two little leathern trunks they had brought

originally from Greenwood; these they dragged to the porch,

and, sitting upon them, held debate as to their next step.

Ere they had been able to hit upon some escape from the

nonplus, their attention was distracted by a rabble of men,

women, and boys, who suddenly swept around a corner and

flooded down the street toward them. With a premonition of

coming evil, Janice sprang to the knocker, and rapped desperately,

but their evictor paid no attention to the appeal. In a

moment the mob, which numbered not less than a thousand

people, reached the steps, hissing, hooting. and caterwauling,

and from the din rose such cries as: "Tory, Tory!" "Turn-coats!"

"Where are the bloody-backs?" "Ain't we draggle-tails now?"

"Order!" shouted a man in a cart pulled by some of the

crowd, for which a way was made by all so that it could be

wheeled up to the sidewalk opposite where the two women,

holding each other's hands, were despairingly facing the crowd.

"Remember, I passed my oath to General Arnold that there 'ud

be no violence; an' if we don't keep it, the troops will be down

on us. an' some on you will spend a night in the guard-house"

"Hooray!" cheered some one, and the mass echoed the

cry.

The spokesman turned to the Merediths. "We know'd the

Fourth o' July ain't no joyous day to you-alls, so we've done

our bestest to keep you from thinkin' of it by bringin' some

one to call on you. Ain't you glad to see again your old friend,

Miss Shy Anna?"

As the speaker finished, he stepped to one side, bringing

into view of the porch a woman seated upon the head of a

barrel in the cart. A poor army drab, left behind in the evacuation,

had been decked out in what Janice instantly recognised

as her Mischianza costume; and with hair dressed so that

it stood up not less than two feet above her forehead, splashed

over with white paint, a drink-coloured face, doubly red in contrast,

and bare feet, with an expanse of more than ankle in a

similar nakedness below the trousers, she made up in all a

figure so droll that under any other circumstances Janice would

have laughed.

"We are escortin' Miss Shy Anna--who ain't really very

shy--to see all her friends of The Blended Rose and of

The Burning Mountain, an' as we hate airs an' pride, we

demands that each give her a kiss. Just make a way for Miss

Meredith to come and give her the chaste salute," he ordered

of the throng.

"Thou wilt not insist on such a humiliation for my daughter,"

appealed Mrs. Meredith.

"Insult!" cried the leader. "Who dares to say 't ain't an

honour to kiss one dressed in such clothes? Give the miss a

little help, boys, but gently. Don't do her no harm."

A dozen men were through the gate before the sentence was

finished, but outcries and a surge of the mob at this point gave

a new bent to the general attention. A horseman from the

direction opposite to that from which the crowd had come was

spurring, with little heed, through the mass, and the clamour

and movement were due to the commotion he precipitated.

In twenty seconds the rider, who was well coated with dust,

and whose horse was lathered with the sweat of fast riding, had

come abreast of the cart, and Janice gave a cry of joy. "Oh,

Colonel Brereton," she called, "save us, I beg!"

"What are you about?" demanded the new-comer, sternly,

of the crowd.

"We 're celebratin' independence," explained he in the cart,

"and all we wants of this miss is that she buss her friend Miss

Shy Anna. They both is British sympathisers."

"Be off with you, every doodle and rag-tail of you!" ordered

the officer, angrily.

"And who are you?" demanded one; and another, emboldened

by distance, recommended, "Pull him off his

horse."

Twenty hands seized hold of Brereton; but as they did so,

the aide, realising his mistake, retrieved it by a sudden change

of manner. "I am an aide of General Washington," he

shouted, "and I bring news of a great battle."

An uproar of questions broke out, drowning every other

sound, till, by raising his hand, the aide procured silence.

"I must carry the despatches to Congress; but come with

me, and I'll give you the tale the moment they are safe

delivered."

With a rush the crowd followed him, as he moved forward,

deserting the cart and its occupants, who hastily descended,

and hurried after the throng. But Jack was not so forgetful,

and turning in his saddle, he called back, "I'll return as soon

as I can."

XLIX

PLATO vs. CUPID

The patience of the two homeless women was

heavily taxed before Brereton returned, but finally,

after nearly two hours' waiting, he came, almost

running along the street.

"Neither the Congress nor the populace were to be put off,"

he began to explain, ere he was within the gate, "and I have

had to retail again and again the story of the fight, and tell

'how our army swore in Flanders.' But I dared not break

away from them through fear they would follow me back and

force me to play hare to their hounds once more. 'T is a great

relief to know that you are safe," Jack declared, as he shook

their hands warmly.

"Thanks to you," replied Mrs. Meredith "'T was indeed

a mercy of God that thou cam'st when thou didst."

Pray give my mare, who has done her seventy miles since

daylight, some share," laughed the officer, heartily.

"Oh, Colonel Brereton, what do we not owe to you?" exclaimed

Janice, warmly.

A few words told their champion of their plight and stirred

him to hot anger.

"By heavens!" he growled; "I would that my general

were here to curse the beldame, as he did Lee at Monmouth.

Once you are cared for, I'll return and see that she hear one

man's opinion of her. Follow me, and I'll soon put you in

comfort." Getting a trunk on each shoulder, he set off down

the street.

Did I understand thee aright in inferring that General Washington

so far forgot himself as to use profane language?" asked

Mrs. Meredith as they walked.

"Ay, Laus Deo!"

"I can't think of him as doing that," ejaculated Janice.

"'T was glorious to hear him, for he spoke with righteous

anger as an angel from heaven might, and his every word was

well deserved. Indeed, had I been in command, Lee should

have had a file of soldiers before sundown for his conduct."

"What did he?"

"Everything that an honourable man should not," answered

the aide, warmly. "Finding that Gates had lost favour with

Congress, and had failed in his attempt to supplant Washington,

he at once resumed his old intriguing. But, worse still, once

we were across the Delaware and in full cry after the British, he

persisted in the Council of War in asserting that 't would he madness

to bring on a general engagement, and that we should

keep at a comfortable distance and merely annoy them by

detachment,--counsel that would have done credit to the most

honourable Society of Midwives, and to them only, and which

could mean naught but that he did not wish my general to reap

the glory of defeating the British. Voted down, my fine gentleman

at first refused the command of the advance; but once he

saw that the attack had promise of success, he asserted his claim

as senior officer to command it, only, it would seem, with the

object of preventing its success, for at the moment of going

into action he predicted to Lafayette that our troops could not

stand against the British, and instead of supporting those

engaged, he allowed them to be thrown into confusion and was

the first to join in the retreat which he himself had brought

about. 'T was at this moment, when he was actually heading

the rout, that my general cantered up to him and demanded,

'By God, sir, what is the meaning of this disorderly retreat?'

Lee began a stuttering explanation that did n't explain, so his

Excellency repeated his question. 'You know that the attack

was contrary to my advice and opinion,' stammered Lee, and

then Washington thundered out, 'Then you should not have

insisted on the command. You're a damned poltroon!' And

't was what the whole army thought and wanted said."

"'T is too bad General Washington was beat," sighed Janice.

"That he was not," answered Brereton, triumphantly.

"When we rode up, not a one of us but thought the day lost,

but the general, with a quickness and decision I never before

saw in him, grasped the situation, rallied the broken regiments,

seized on a strong piece of ground, and not merely checked the

British advance, but drove them back on their reserves, where,

after nightfall, they were glad enough to sneak away, leaving

their wounded and dead behind them. But for Lee's cowardice,

or treachery, as I believe it to be, they 'd have never

reached the protection of their fleet at Sandy Hook. Yet

one benefit of his conduct will be that 't will end all talk of

making him commander-in-chief. In seeking to injure his

Excellency, he has but compassed his own discrediting, and

the cabal against my general in Congress will break down for

very lack of a possible successor. We did more than beat the

English at Monmouth."

The tale served to bring the trio to the City tavern, where

Brereton led the way at once to a room on the second floor, and

deposited the two trunks.

"You'll have no more than time to freshen yourselves for

dinner, and we'll leave talk till we've eaten that," he suggested,

as he picked up a pair of saddlebags and left the room.

"Oh, mommy," sighed Janice, rejoicefully, "is n't it a relief

to be told what to do, and not have to worry one's self?

He did n't make us think once."

Their self-chosen guardian was equally decisive as to the

future, when the subject was taken up after the meal. "I must

stay here two days for some despatches Congress wishes me to

bear, and 't is fortunate, for I shall have time to procure a second

horse and a pillion, so that you may journey with me."

"Whither?"

"To Brunswick."

"I suppose there is naught else left for us," said Mrs. Meredith,

doubtingly, "but we have little reason to feel secure

there."

"Do not give yourself a moment's discomposure or dolour.

We shall find the army there; but, better still, I possess a means

to secure your safety, whether it remains or no."

"And what is that?" inquired Mrs. Meredith, eagerly, while

Janice, feeling her cheeks begin to burn, suddenly sprang to her

feet, with a pretended interest in something to be seen from one

of the windows, which enabled her to turn her back to the table.

"By good luck I have a hold over both Esquire Hennion

and Bagby, and I'll threat them that unless they let you live at

peace I'll use it."

Janice came back to the table. "'T was only the rounds,"

she remarked with a note of half surprise, half puzzlement, in her

voice, which was not lost to her mother's ears.

"Art thou as sure as thou wert, Janice," Mrs. Meredith

asked, once they were in their room again, "that Colonel

Brereton wishes to wed thee?"

"I--I thought--he said he did," replied the girl, hanging

her head with mortification; "but he may have changed his

mind."

"I fear me, child, that thy vanity, which has ever led thee to

give too much heed to the pretty speeches of men, has misled

thee in this instance."

Janice's doubt grew in the next two days, for by not a word

or act did the aide even hint that such a hope was present in

his thoughts. Their every need was his care, and all his spare

time was passed in their company; but his manner conveyed

only the courtesy of the friend, and never the tenderness of the

lover. Even when the maiden presented him with the silk

purse to which she had given so many hours of toil, his thanks,

though warm, were distinctly platonic. Both piqued and

humiliated at his conduct, the girl was glad enough when, on

the morning of the third day, they set out on their journey, and

she almost welcomed the advent of Bagby, who overtook them

as they were taking their noon baiting at Bristol, and who made

the afternoon ride with them.

Another familiar face greeted them, as, toward nightfall, they

rode into Trenton and drew rein in front of the Drinkers' house,

whither the ladies had asked to be taken; for ere Janice had

been lifted from the horse's back, or Mrs. Meredith had descended

from the pillion, they were accosted by Squire Hennion.

"I hoped ez haow we wuz well quit of yer," he began; "an'

yer need n't 'spect, after all yer goin's on, an' those of yer--

ole Tory husband, thet ye're goin' ter be allaowed ter come

back ter Greenwood. I persume Joe 's told yer thet he an' I

is goin' ter git a bill through this Assembly declarin' yer lands

escheated."

"You have n't any right to talk for me, squire," protested

Joe. "I can do my own talking; and my sympathies is always

with the female sex."

"He, he!" snickered Hennion. "Ain't we doin' the gallant

all of a suddint! An' ain't we foxy? Joe, here," he continued,

turning to the ladies, "come ter me jest afore we left Brunswick,

with a bill he'd draw'd ter take yer lands, an' he says ter

me he wuz a-goin' ter push it through Assembly. But by the

time we gits ter Trenton, word come thet the redcoats wuz a

scuttlin' fer York, so Joe he set off like a jiffy ter see, I persume,

if yer wuz ter be faound. Did he offer ter buy yer lands

cheap, or did he ask ter be bought off? Or is the sly tyke

snoopin' araound arter yer darter?"

Bagby had the grace to grow a brick red at this revelation and

home thrust, and he began an attempted explanation. But

Brereton, who had helped both his charges to the ground, did

not let them give ear to it. "I will bide at the tavern, and

we'll start to-morrow as soon after daybreak as we can," he

said, as he escorted them to the door, then turned back to the

two assemblymen, who were busy expressing frank opinions of

each other. "Quarrel as you like," he broke in, "but understand

one thing now. That bill must never be introduced, or

the pair of you shall hear from me. I warn you both that I

have in my possession your signed oaths of allegiance to King

George, and if you dare to push your persecution of the Merediths

I'll ride from one end of Middlesex County to t' other,

and prove to your constituents what kind of Whigs you are,

over your own hands and seals." He took the two bridles and

walked toward the tavern.

"Thet 'ere is a lie!" cried Hennion, yet following the

officer.

"It is, if you never signed such a paper," remarked Jack,

drily.

"I defy yer ter show it." challenged Hennion.

"If you want sight of it, introduce the bill," retorted the

aide.

"Say, colonel," said Bagby, with a decided cringe, "you

won't use those documents against your old friends, will you?"

"'T ain't fer a Continental officer ter injure them cairn ginooine

Whigs," chimed in Hennion, "an' only swore an oath cuz it

seemed bestest jest then."

"If you don't want those papers known, stop persecuting the

Merediths."

"So thet gal 's caught yer, too, hez she? Look aout fer

them. They'll use yer ter save theer lands, an' then they'll

send yer ter right-abaout, like they done with my Phil. I warns

yer agin 'em, an' ef yer don't listen ter me, the day'll come

when yer'll rue it."

Meanwhile the Drinkers had made the new arrivals most

welcome; and the two girls, with so much to tell each other,

found it difficult to know where to begin. They had not talked

long, however, when Janice became conscious that there was a

rift in the lute.

"My letter," she said, "would have told you better than ever

I now can all about the routs and the plays, and everything

else; but, alas! some one broke into our house the night the

British left Philadelphia, and search as I would the next day,

I could not find what I had written you."

"I should think thee 'd be glad," replied Tibbie; "for surely

thou 'rt ashamed of having been so Toryish."

"Not I," denied Janice. "And why should I be?"

"Shame upon thee, Janice Meredith, for liking the enemies

of thy country!"

"And pray, madam," questioned Janice, "what has caused

this sudden fervour of Whigism in you?"

"I never was unfaithful to my country, nor smiled on its

persecutors."

"Humph!" sniffed Janice. "One would think, to hear you

talk, that you have given those smiles to some rebel lover."

"Better a Whig lover than one of your popinjay British

officers," retorted Tibbie, crimsoning.

"Gemini!" burst from the other. "I believe 't is a hit from

the way you colour."

"And if 't was--which 't is not--'t is naught to feel ashamed

of." resentfully answered the accused.

The two girls had been spatting thus in lowered voices on

the sofa, and as Tibbie ended, her disputant's arm was about

her waist, and she was squeezed almost to suffocation.

"Oh, Tibbie, wilt tell me all about it--and him--once we

are in bed to-night?" begged Janice, in the lowest but most

eager of whispers.

Whether this prayer would have been granted was not to

be known, for as it was uttered Mr. Drinker interrupted their

dialogue.

"Why, Tabitha," he called from across the room, "here 's a

great miscarriage. Mrs. Meredith tells me that Colonel Brereton

rode with them from Philadelphia, but thinking to o'ercrowd

us he has put up at the Sun tavern."

Had the daughter merely remarked that "'T was a monstrous

pity," or suggested that her father should at once set off to the

hostel to insist on his coming to them, Janice would have

thought nothing of the incident; but in place of this Tibbie

said, "'T is well," with a toss of her head, even as she grew

redder still, and realising this, she pretended that some supper

preparation required her attention, and almost fled from the

room.

"Colonel Brereton," explained Mr. Drinker, "stopped with

us last summer each time he rode through Trenton on public

business, and we came to like him much; so glad were we

when he was well enough from his wound this spring to once

more drop in upon us."

"His wound!" exclaimed Janice.

"Ay," said Miss Drinker. "Didst thee not know that he

was hit at Whitemarsh, and was weeks abed?"

Mr. Drinker gave a hearty laugh as the girl shook her head

in dissent. "I'll tell thee a secret, Jan," he said, "and give

thee a fine chance to tease. There was a girl not a hundred

miles from this house who was sorely wounded by that same

British bullet, and who pilfered every goody she could find

from our pantry, and would have it that I should ride myself to

Valley Forge with them all, but that I found a less troublesome

conveyance."

"'T was very good of her," said Janice, gravely. "I--I did

not know that he had been wounded."

"Thou wert hardly in the way of it," replied Mr. Drinker.

"British officers were scarce news sheets of our army."

However praiseworthy Miss Meredith may have thought her

friend's kindness to Brereton, one action conveyed the contrary

import, for when the bed hour came she said to Tabitha: "I

think I'll sleep with mommy, and not with thee, after all."

"Oh, Jan, and I have so much to tell thee!"

"We make so early a start," explained Miss Meredith, "that

the sleep is more valuable to me." Then the girl, after a swallow,

said: "And I thank you, Tibbie, for being so good to

Colonel Brereton, to whom we owe much kindness; for even

had we known he was injured, we could have done nothing for

him." She kissed her friend and followed her mother.

When Brereton appeared the next morning, Janice mounted

the horse which was to bear her while the aide was exchanging

greetings with the Drinkers; and when these quickly changed

into farewells, she heeded not Tabitha's protest that they had

not kissed each other good-by.

"I thought to save time by mounting," explained Janice,

"and for this once it does not matter." And during the

whole morning's ride the aide found her strangely silent and

unresponsive.

Both these qualities disappeared with marvellous suddenness

once they were within the Greenwood gate. All along the

Raritan the fields were dotted with tents and parks of artillery,

and on Greenwood lawn stood a large marquee, from which

floated the headquarters' flag, while groups of officers and soldiers

were scattered about in every direction. But all this

panoply of war was forgotten by the girl, as Sukey, who was

carrying some dish from the house to the tent, dropped it with

a crash on the ground, and with a screech of delight rushed

forward. Janice slid, rather than alighted, from her horse; and

as if there were no such things as social distinctions, mistress

and slave hugged each other, both rendered inarticulate by

their sobs of joy. Further to prove that hearts have nothing to

do with the colour of the skin, Billy Lee, who had been following

in Sukey's train with another dish, was so melted by the

sight that he proceeded to deposit his burden of a large ham

on the grass, and began a loud blubbering in sympathy. Their

united outcries served to bring two more participants on the

scene, for Peg and Clarion came running out of the house and

with screams and yelps sought to express their joy.

While this spectacle was affording infinite amusement to the

officers and sentinels, Brereton, after helping Mrs. Meredith

alight, went in search of Washington and in a few moments returned

with him.

"We have made free with your home, as you see, Mrs. Meredith,"

apologised the commander-in-chief, as he shook her

hand, "and I scarce know now whether to bid you welcome, or

to ask leave for us to tarry till to-morrow. May we not effect a

compromise by your dining and supping with me, and, in

return, your favouring me and my family with a night's

lodging?"

"Thou couldst not fail of welcome for far longer, General

Washington," said Mrs. Meredith, warmly, "but thou art doubly

so if Lady Washington is with thee."

"Nay; I meant my military family," explained the general.

"Mrs. Washington retreated, ere the campaign opened, to

Mount Vernon." Then he turned to the daughter and shook

her hand. "Ah, Miss Janice," he said, "sorry reports we've

had of thy goings on, and we greatly feared we had lost thee to

the cause."

"Ah, no. your Excellency," protested the girl. "Though I

did once pray that the British should capture Philadelphia,

't was not because I wished you beaten, but solely because it

would bring dadda to us, and--and many a prayer I've made

for you."

The general smiled. "'T will be glad news to some," he

said, with a sidelong look at Brereton, "that thy sympathies

have always been with us. I presume thou hast simply been

doing the British soldiery all the harm that thou couldst under

guise of friendliness. I'll warrant thou'st a greater tale of

wounded officers than any of Morgan's riflemen, sharpshooters

though they be."

"I would I could say I had been ever faithful, your Excellency,

but I must own to fickleness."

"These are times that test loyalty to the full," replied

Washington, "and there has been many a waverer in the

land."

"Of that I know full well, your Excellency."

"Nay, Miss Meredith, thou needest not pretend that thou hast

any knowledge of inconstancy. From that particular failing of

mankind I'll agree to hold thee harmless."

"Your Excellency but compliments me," answered Janice,

"in presuming me exempt from forgetfulness." And as she

spoke the girl gave an unconscious glance at Brereton.

L

ROSES AND HONEYSUCKLE

Dinner, which was actually being placed on the table

in the tent at the moment the ladies arrived, cut

short further conversation with either Washington

or Sukey. Utterly forgetful of her duties to spit

and oven, nothing would do the former cook but to follow

Janice to her old room, where she summarily ordered Billy to

clear out the clothing and accoutrements of its military tenants.

"Don't you stay, Sukey," said Janice, "if you are needed

in the kitchen. His Excellency--"

"Dat I ain't, chile. Gin'l Washington he trabell wid his

own cook, an' Peg an' I 'se only helpin' Mr. Lee set de table

and carry de dishes. Now I help ma honey."

"Oh, Sukey," carolled Janice, "it is so good to be home

again!"

"Guess Missus Sukey tink dat too," said William, halting in

his labours. "She dun talk about nuthin' else but her pooty

young missus."

"And how 's Blueskin, Billy?" questioned Janice.

"Lor' bless us, miss, dyar ain't no restrainin' ob dat steed

wid de airs he put on since he dun took part at Monmouth an'

hear the gin'l say what he tink oh dat feller Lee. I tell him if he

doan behave better, de next time dyar 's goin' to be a battle,

I jus' saddle up Nelson an' leave him behind."

"Now youse stop a-talkin' an' tote dem men's tings somewhars

else. Missy Janice gwine to change her gown, an' we doan

want nuttin' oh dat sort in hyar."

"I'll only smart myself a little and not change my frock,

Sukey, because--"

"Dat youse must, honey, for I dun praise youse so dat I

ain't gwine to have dem disappointed in youse. Who'll be to

dinner to-day, Mr. Lee?"

"Gen'l Greene an' Lord Sterlin', an' de staff, an' de field an'

brigades major ob de day."

"Dere, chile, now doan youse depreciate yourself to all dem.

Jus' youse put on de pootiest dress youse hab an' do ole

Sukey proud." Then, as she helped Janice to bedeck herself

she poured out the story of their makeshift life, telling how,

with what had been left of the poultry, and with the products

of the small patch of the garden they had been able to till,

the two slaves had managed to live the year through, taking

the best care they could of their master's property, and hoping

and praying daily for what had at last come to pass. The

arraying would have been more speedy with the volunteer

abigail out of the room; but not once did the mistress even

suggest it, and, on the contrary, paused several times in the

process to give the black a hug.

Finally, a call from her mother put an end to this frittering

and hurried the girl downstairs. Washington gave his hand to

Mrs. Meredith, and there was a contest of words among the

numerous officers for the privilege of the girl's, till Lord Sterling

asserted his prerogative of rank and carried her off. Her

presence was indeed a boon to the twenty men who sat down

at the table, and, accustomed as Janice was by this time to the

attention of officers, she could not but be flattered by the

homage and deference paid her, all the more, perhaps, that

it was witnessed by Brereton. Nor did this cease with the

withdrawal of the ladies, for a number of the younger blades

elected for her society rather than for that of the bottle, and

made themselves her escort in the tour of inspection which

Janice insisted on making about the place; and had she needed

to be helped or lifted over every fence, or even stone, they

encountered, there would have been willing hands to do it.

It is true she was teased not a little for her supposed British

sympathies, but it was not done ill-naturedly, and the girl was

now quick-witted and quick-tongued enough to protect herself.

This plurality of swains did not lessen as the afternoon

advanced, for not one of the diners departed, and when tea-time

had come, their ranks were swelled by a dozen new

arrivals, giving both Mrs. Meredith and Janice all they could do

to keep the assembly supplied with "dishes" of the cheerful but

uninebriating beverage which had been so material a cause in

the very embodying of this army. Then the officers idled

about the lawn, each perhaps hoping for an invitation to stay

on to the supper which so quickly followed the tea-drinking;

and those who were fortunate enough to attain their wish did

not hurry away once the meal was concluded. Only when

Mrs. Meredith excused herself and her daughter on the ground

of fatigue, did the youngsters recollect that there were camp

duties which called them away.

"I fear me, Miss Janice," said the commander-in-chief, as

the good-nights were being said, "that discipline would be

maintained with difficulty were we long to remain encamped here.

Personally, I cannot but regret that we move northward to-morrow;

but for the good of the service I think 't is fortunate."

Drum beat and bugle call, sounding reveille, brought Janice

back to consciousness the next morning; and it is to be suspected

that she took some pains with her morning toilet, for

by the time she descended tents were already levelled and regiments

and artillery were filing past on the road.

"We have reason to believe that Sir Henry meditates a

move up the Hudson against our post of West Point," Washington

explained to Janice; "and so it is our duty to put ourselves

within protecting distance, though I myself think he will

scarce venture a blow, the more that he is strengthening his

lines about New York. 'T is not a little pleasing to us that,

after two years' fighting and manoeuvring, both armies are

brought back to the very point they set out from, and that

from being the attacking party, the British are now reduced to

the use of spade and pick-axe for defence."

"I wish you were not leaving us, your Excellency," sighed

Janice.

"'T is one of the penalties of war," replied the general,

"that we are doomed to see little of the fair sex, and must be

content with an occasional sip of their society. Should we

winter near here, as now seems possible, I trust you will honour

Mrs. Washington and myself with your company at headquarters.

And one word ere we part, Mrs. Meredith. You

must not think that we make free with people's property, as we

seem to have done in your case. Finding your home unoccupied,

I made bold to take it for my headquarters; but the

quartermaster-general will pay you before we leave for such

use as I have made of it."

"We could not accept anything, your Excellency," protested

the hostess. "The obligation is with us, and I beg--"

"Be off with you to your stations, gentlemen," ordered

Washington, as he rose from the table; and having cleared the

room, he continued: "Nay, Mrs. Meredith, Congress allows

me my expenses, and 't is only just that you should be paid.

And however well provided you may be, a little ready money

will surely not be amiss?"

"Your Excellency is more thoughtful of our future than we

are ourselves," responded Mrs. Meredith. "For a moment I

had forgot our position; we will gladly accept payment."

"Would that I could as easily pay you for the pleasure you

have given me," said the general, shaking her hand. "Miss

Janice, we'll do our best," he went on, "to tie the British soldiery

into New York; but, whether we succeed or no, I wish

to hear of no more philandering with their officers. 'T is hard

enough to fight them in the field, without encountering them

in our softer moments; so see to it that you save your smiles

and blushes for us."

"I will, your Excellency," promised Janice, as she did both.

"Nay, nay, my child," he corrected, smiling. "I did not

mean that thou shouldst blush and smile for me. I am a

married man, and old enough to be thy father."

"'T is fortunate you are the first, your Excellency," laughed

the girl in turn, "or the latter should not protect you." And

as the general held out his hand she impulsively kissed it.

"I shall write Mrs. Washington that 't will never do for her

to leave me during another campaign," replied the commander,

reciprocating the salute. "Not but she will be very proud to

think that so charming a maid honours her husband with such

favours."

At the door the staff were already mounted and waiting their

chief. Farewells were completed with all save Brereton, who

for some reason had withdrawn a little from the group; and

these done, the cavalcade trotted off.

No sooner was it upon the road than Brereton spurred up

alongside of his superior, and, saluting, said in a dropped voice:

"Your Excellency, I had something of moment to say to the

Merediths, but 't was impossible to get private word, with all the

idlers and racketers and Jack-a-dandies of the army running in

and out upon them. May I not turn back? I will overtake

you ere many hours."

"Think you, sir," asked Washington, gravely, "I have no

occasion for my aides, that you make such a request?"

Jack flushed with mortification and temper. "I supposed

that, on the march, you could spare--"

"I can, my boy," interrupted the commander-in-chief with

a change of manner, "and was but putting off a take-in on you.

My own courting was done while colonel of the First Virginia regiment,

and well I remember how galling the military duties were.

'T is to be feared I was not wholly candid in the reasons calling

me from the regiment to Williamsburg, that I alleged to my

superiors, for my business at the capital took few hours, and

both going and returning I managed to stay many at 'White

House.' May your wooing speed as prosperously," he finished,

extending an arm and pressing his junior's hand warmly.

"And if by chance you should not overtake us till to-morrow,

I'll think of twenty years ago and spare you a reprimand."

"God save you, sir!" exclaimed Jack, in an undertone of

gratitude. "I--I love--She is--is so dear to me, that I

could not bear the thought of waiting." Wheeling his horse,

the rider gave him the spur.

The moment the general and staff had trotted away, Mrs.

Meredith turned to her daughter and asked, "Hast thou refused

Colonel Brereton, Janice?"

"No, mommy," faltered the girl.

"Then why did he ride off without a word to either of us?"

"I--'t is--I can only think that--that he has come to

care for Tibbie--being in and out of love easily--and so is

ashamed of the part he has played."

"'T is evident that I was right in my view that thy vanity had

misled thee," replied the mother. "But we'll not discuss its

meaning now, for I must find out how we stand. Try to make

thyself a task, child."

Her search for this took the maiden, closely followed by

Clarion, to the garden, where she found that weeds, if nothing

else, had thriven, though the perennials still made a goodly

show. Before beginning a war on the former, she walked to a

great tangle of honeysuckle that clustered about and overtopped

a garden seat, to pluck a bunch and stick it in the neckerchief

that was folded over her bosom; then she went to her favourite

rose-bush and kissed the one blossom July had left to it. "I'll

not pick you," she said, "since you are the only one."

The sound of galloping caught her attention as she raised

her head and though she could not see the rider, her ears told

her that he turned into Greenwood gate, even before the pace

was slackened. Not knowing what it might bode, the girl stood

listening, with an anxious look on her face. The cadence of

the hoof-beats ended suddenly, and silence ensued for a time;

then as suddenly, quick footsteps, accompanied by a tell-tale

jingle and clank, came striding along the path from the kitchen

to the port in the hedge. One glance Janice gave at the opposite

entrance, as if flight were in her thoughts, then, with a hand

resting on the back of the seat to steady herself, she awaited

the intruder.

Brereton paused in the opening of the box, as his eyes rested

on his love. "Would to Heaven," he exclaimed, "that I had

my colours and the time to paint you as you stand!"

Both relieved and yet more frightened, Janice, in an attempt

to conceal the latter feeling, remarked, "I thought you had

departed, sir."

"Think you I'd rest content without farewell, or choose to

have one with the whole staff as witnesses?" answered Jack, as

he came forward. "Furthermore, I had some matters of which

to speak that were not to be published to the world."

"Mommy is--"

"Where I'd have her," interjected the officer; "for what I

have to say is to you. First: I put the screws on old Hennion

and Bagby, and have their word that they will not push their

forfeiture bill, or in any other way molest you."

"We thank you deeply, Colonel Brereton."

"I rode to Brunswick and saw Parson McClave yesterday

afternoon, to bespeak his aid, and he says he is certain you

may live at peace here, if you will not seek to be rigorous with

your tenants, and that he will do his best to keep the community

from persecuting you."

"'T is glad news, indeed."

"Knowing how you were circumstanced, I then rode about

your farms and held interview with a number of your tenants

and pleaded with them that they pay a part of their arrears

in supplies; and several of the better sort gave me their word

that you should not want for food."

"'T was most thoughtful of you."

"Finally, I wrote a letter to your father, and have sent it

under a flag that was going to New York, telling him that you

were safe arrived at Greenwood."

"Ah, Colonel Brereton, how can we ever repay your kindness?"

murmured the girl, her eyes brightened and softened

by a mist of unshed tears.

"'T was done for my own ease. Think you I could have

ridden away, not knowing what risk or privation you might

have to suffer in my absence?"

"'T is only the greater cause for gratitude that you make

your ease depend on ours."

"That empties my packet of advices," said the aide; "and

--and--unless you have something to tell me, I'll--we'll

say a farewell and I'll rejoin the army."

"Would that I could thank you, sir, as you deserve; but

words mean so little that you have rendered me dumb," replied

Janice, feelingly.

"Can you not--Have you nothing else to say to me?"

he begged pleadingly.

"I--Indeed, I can think of nothing, Colonel Brereton,"

replied the maiden, very much flustered.

"Then good-by, and may God prosper you," ended Jack,

sadly, taking her hand and kissing it gently. He turned with

obvious reluctance, and went toward the house, but before he

had reached the hedge he quickly retraced his steps. "I--I

could not force my suit upon you when I found you in such

helplessness--not even when you gave me the purse--though

none but I can know what the restraint meant in torture," he

burst out; "and it seems quite as ungenerous to try to advantage

myself now of your moment's gratefulness. But my passion

has its limits of control, and go I cannot without--without--

Give me but a word, though it be a sentence of death to

my heart's desire."

Janice, whose eyes had been dropped groundward during

most of this colloquy, gave the pleader a come-and-go glance,

then said breathlessly, "I--'T is--Wha--wha--What

would you wish me to say?"

"What you can," cried the officer, impetuously.

"I--I would--'T is my desire to--to say what you

would have me."

Both her hands were eagerly caught in those of the suppliant.

"If you could--If--'T would be everything on earth--

more than life itself to me--could you but give me the faintest

hope that I might win you. Have you such an abhorrence

of me that you cannot give me the smallest guerdon

of happiness?"

"You err in supposing that I dislike you," protested Janice.

"Then why do you refuse all that is dearest to me? Why

turn from a devotion that would make your happiness its

own?"

"But I have n't," denied the girl, her heart beating wildly

and her breath coming quickly.

As the words passed her lips, she was impulsively yet tenderly

caught in her lover's arms and drawn to him. "What

have you done, then?" he demanded almost fiercely.

"I--I--oh! I don't know," she gasped.

"Then, as you have pity in you, grant my prayer?"

For a moment Janice, with down-bent head, was silent.

Then she raised her eyes to Jack's and said, "I will marry

you, Colonel Brereton, if dadda will let me."

LI

A FAREWELL AND A WELCOME

There was little weeding of the garden that fore-noon,

unless the brushing off with Jack's gauntlets

of some green moss from the garden seat, about

which clustered the honeysuckle, can be considered

such. Possibly this was done that more sprays of the vine

might be plucked, for when Sukey, after repeated calls from

the entry, finally came to summon them to dinner, Jack had a

bunch of it, and a single rose, thrust in his sword knot.

There was a pretence of affected unconsciousness at the

meal on the part of the three, and even of Peg, though the

servant made it difficult to maintain the fiction by several times

going off into fits of reasonless giggles not easy for those at

table to ignore. The repast eaten, Brereton drew Mrs. Meredith

aside for a word, and Janice took advantage of the freedom

to escape to her room, where she buried her face in the pillow,

as if she had some secret to confide to it.

From this she was presently roused by her mother's entrance,

and as the girl, with flushed cheeks and questioning look, met

her eyes, Mrs. Meredith said: "I think, my child, thou hast

acted for the best, and we will hope thy father will think so."

"Oh, mommy, dost think he'll consent?"

"I fear not, but that must be as God wills it. Go down

now, for Colonel Brereton says he must ride away, and only

tarries for a word with thee."

Janice gave one glance at the mirror, and put her hands

to her hair, with a look of concern. "'T is dreadfully disordered."

"He will not notice it, that I'll warrant," prophesied the

matron.

With his horse's bridle over his arm, the lover was waiting

for her on the front porch. "Will you not walk with me down

the road a little way?" he begged. "'T is so hard to leave

you."

"I--I think I had better not," urged the girl, showing

trepidation. "'T would surely delay you too--"

"Ah, Janice," interrupted the lover, "why--what have I

done that you should show such fear of me?"

"I'm not afraid of you," denied Janice, hurriedly; "and of

course I'll go, if--if you think it best."

"Then what is it frightens you, sweetheart?" persisted Jack,

as they set off.

The maiden scrutinised the ground and horizon as if seeking

an explanation ere she replied shyly, "'T is--'t is indeed

no fear of you, but you--you never ask permission."

The officer laughed exultingly. "Then may I put my arm

about you?" he requested.

"'T will make walking too difficult."

"How know you that?" demanded Jack.

"'T is--'t is easily fancied."

Brereton's free arm encircled the girl. "Try to fancy it,"

he entreated. "And never again say that I do not ask permission."

A mile down the road Jack halted. "I'll not let you go

further," he groaned; "nor must I linger, for reminder of my

wound still troubles me if I ride too quick."

"Why did you not tell me you had been wounded when you

took me away from the ball?" asked Janice, reproachfully.

"'T was not once in my thoughts that evening, nor was

anything else save you."

"I can make all sorts of preserves and jellies and pickles,

and next winter I'll send you some to camp."

"That you shall not," asserted the aide; "for the day we

go into winter quarters sees me back here to dance at your

wedding."

"Hadst better wait till thou art invited, sir?" suggested

Janice, saucily.

"What? A revolt on my hands already!" exclaimed the

officer.

"T is you are the rebel."

"Then you are my prisoner," retorted Jack, catching her in

his arms.

"You Whigs are a lawless lot!"

"Toward avowed Tories, ay--and a good serve-out to

them."

"But I gave my word to his Excellency that from henceforth

I'd be Whiggish, so you've no right to treat me as one."

"Then I'll not," agreed the lover. "And since I plundered

from you while you were against us, 't is only right that I should

return what I took." He kissed her thrice tenderly. "Good-by,

my sweet," he said, and, releasing her, mounted. "'T is

fortunate I depend not on my own legs, for they 'd never consent

to carry me away from you." He started his horse, but

turned in his saddle to call back: "'T will not be later than

the first of November, with or without permission," and throwing

a last kiss with his hand, spurred away.

Till Jack passed from view, the girl's eyes followed him

then, with a look of dreaminess in her eyes, she walked slowly

back to Greenwood, so abstracted by her thoughts that she

spoke not a word to the attendant hound.

Whatever might be the inclination of the girl, her mother

gave her little chance to dream in the next few days. Not

merely was there much about house and garden to be brought

into order, but Mrs. Meredith succeeded in bargaining their

standing crop of grass in exchange for a milch cow, and to

Janice was assigned both its milking and care, while the

chickens likewise became her particular charge. From stores

in the attic the mother produced pieces of whole cloth, and

Janice was set at work on dresses and underclothes to resupply

their depleted wardrobes. Not content with this, Mrs. Meredith

drew from the same source unspun wool and unhatchelled

flax, and the girl was put to spinning both into thread and yarn,

that Peg might weave them into cloth, against the need of winter.

From five in the morning till eight at night there was

occupation for all; and so tired was the maiden that she gladly

enough heard her mother's decree that their small supply of

candles should not be used, but that they should go to bed

with the sun.

They were thus already asleep by ten o'clock one August

evening, when there came a gentle knocking on the back door,

which, after several repetitions, ceased, but only to be resumed

a moment later on the front one. Neither summons receiving

any attention, a succession of pebbles were thrown against

Janice's window, finally bringing the sleeper back to wakefulness.

Her first feeling, as she became conscious of the cause,

was one of fear, and her instinct was to pay no attention to the

outsider. After one or two repetitions, however, of the disquieting

taps, she stole to the window, and, keeping herself hidden,

peeped out. All she could see was a man standing close

to a shrub, as if to take advantage of its concealment, who

occasionally raised an arm and tossed a pebble against the

panes. Really alarmed, the girl was on the point of seeking

her mother, when her eyes took in the fact that Clarion was

standing beside the cause of her fright, and seeking, so far as

he could, to win his attention. Reassured, the girl raised the

sash, and instantly her father's voice broke upon her ears.

"Down with ye, Jan," he said, "and let me get under

cover."

Both anxious and delighted, the girl ran downstairs and

unbarred the door.