CHAPTER VII

THE BLUE FOX

Elsin had slept all the bright morning through in her little room at

the Blue Fox Tavern, whither Colonel Sheldon's horsemen had conducted

us. My room adjoined hers, the window looking out upon the Bronx where

it flowed, shallow and sunny, down from the wooded slopes of North

Castle and Chatterton's Hill. But I heeded neither the sparkling water

nor the trees swaying in the summer wind, nor the busy little hamlet

across the mill-dam, nor Abe Case, the landlord, with his good

intentions, pressed too cordially, though he meant nothing except

kindness.

"Listen to me," I said, boots in hand, and laying down the law; "we

require neither food nor drink nor service nor the bridal-chambers

which you insist upon. The lady will sleep where she is, I here; and if

you dare awaken me before noonday I shall certainly discharge these

boots in your direction!"

Whereupon he seemed to understand and bowed himself out; and I, lying

there on the great curtained bed, watched the sunlight stealing through

the flowered canopy until the red roses fell to swaying in an unfelt

wind, and I, dreaming, wandered in a garden with that lady I sometimes

saw in visions. And, Lord! how happy we were there together, only at

moments I felt abashed and sorry, for I thought I saw Elsin lying on

the grass, so still, so limp, that I knew she must be dead, and I heard

men whispering that she had died o' love, and that I and my lady were

to dig the grave at moonrise.

A fitful slumber followed, threaded by dreams that vaguely troubled

me--visions of horsemen riding, and of painted faces and dark heads

shaved for war. Again into my dream a voice broke, repeating,

"Thendara! Thendara!" until it grew to a dull and deadened sound, like

the hollow thud of Wyandotte witch-drums.

I slept, yet every loosened nerve responded to the relaxing tension of

excitement. Twice I dreamed that some one roused me, and that I was

dressing in mad haste, only to sink once more into a sleep which

glimmered ever with visions passing, passing in processional, until at

noon I awoke of my own accord, and was bathed and partly dressed ere

the landlord came politely scratching at my door to know my pleasure.

"A staff-officer from his Excellency, Mr. Renault," he said, as I bade

him enter, tying my stock the while.

"Very well," I said; "show him up. And, landlord, when the lady awakes,

you may serve us privately."

He bowed himself out, and presently I heard spurs and a sword jingling

on the stairs, and turned to receive his Excellency's staff-officer--a

very elegant and polite young man in a blue uniform, faced with buff,

and white-topped boots.

"Mr. Renault?" he asked, raising his voice and eyebrows a trifle; and I

think I never saw such a careless, laughing, well-bred countenance in

which were set two eyes as shrewdly wise as the eyes of this young man.

"I am Mr. Renault," I said amiably, smiling at the mirth which twitched

the gravity he struggled to assume.

"Colonel Hamilton of his Excellency's family," he said, making as

elegant a bow as I ever had the honor to attempt to match.

We were very ceremonious, bowing repeatedly as we seated ourselves, he

lifting his sword and laying it across his knees. And I admired his

hat, which was new and smartly laced, and cocked in the most

fashionable manner--which small details carry some weight with me, I

distrusting men whose dress is slovenly from indifference and not from

penury. His Excellency was ever faultless in attire; and I remember

that he wrote in general orders on New Year's day in '76: "If a soldier

can not be induced to take pride in his person, he will soon become a

sloven and indifferent to everything."

"Mr. Renault," began Colonel Hamilton, "his Excellency has your

letters. He regrets that a certain sphere of usefulness is now closed

to you through your own rashness."

I reddened, bowing.

"It appears, however," continued Colonel Hamilton placidly, "that your

estimate of yourself is too humble. His Excellency thanks you, applauds

your modesty and faithfulness in the most trying service a gentleman

can render to his country, and desires me to express the same----"

He rose and bowed. I was on my feet, confused, amazed, tingling with

pleasure.

"His Excellency said--_that!_" I repeated incredulously.

"Indeed he did, Mr. Renault, and he regrets that--ahem--under the

circumstances--it is not advisable to publicly acknowledge your four

years' service--not even privately, Mr. Renault--you understand that

such services as yours must be, in a great measure, their own reward.

Yet I know that his Excellency hesitated a long while to send me with

this verbal message, so keenly did he desire to receive you, so

grateful is he for the service rendered."

I was quite giddy with delight now. Never, never had I imagined that

the Commander-in-Chief could single me out for such generous

praise--me, a man who had lent himself to a work abhorrent--a work

taken up only because there was none better fitted to accomplish a

thing that all shrank from.

Seated once more, I looked up to see Colonel Hamilton regarding me with

decorous amusement.

"It may interest you, Mr. Renault, to know what certain British agents

reported to Sir Henry Clinton concerning you."

"What did they say?" I asked curiously.

"They said, 'Mr. Renault is a rich young man who thinks more of his

clothes than he does of politics, and is safer than a guinea

wig-stand!'"

His face was perfectly grave, but the astonished chagrin on my

countenance set his keen eyes glimmering, and in a moment more we both

went off into fits of laughter.

"Lord, sir!" he exclaimed, dusting his eyes with a lace handkerchief,

"what a man we lost when you lost your head! Why on earth did you

affront Walter Butler?"

I leaned forward, emphasizing every point with a noiseless slap on my

knee, and recounted minutely and as frankly as I could every step which

led to the first rupture between Walter Butler and myself. He followed

my story, intelligent eyes fixed on me, never losing an accent, a shade

of expression, as I narrated our quarrel concerning the matter of the

Oneidas, and how I had forgotten myself and had turned on him as an

Iroquois on a Delaware, a master on an insolent slave.

"From that instant he must have suspected me," I said, leaning back in

my chair. "And now, Colonel Hamilton, my story is ended, and my

usefulness, too, I fear, unless his Excellency will find for me some

place--perhaps a humble commission--say in the dragoons of Major

Talmadge----"

"You travel too modestly," said Hamilton, laughing. "Why, Mr. Renault,

any bullet-headed, reckless fellow who has done as much as you have

done may ask for a commission and have it, too. Look at me! I never did

anything, yet they found me good enough for a gun captain, and they

gave me a pair o' cannon, too. But, sir, there are other places with

few to fill them--far too few, I assure you. Why, what a shame to set

you with a noisy, galloping herd of helmets, chasing skinners and

cowboys with a brace of gad-a-mercy pistols in your belt!--what a

shame, I say, when in you there lie talents we seek in vain for among

the thousand and one numskulls who can drill a battalion or maneuver a

brigade!"

"What talents?" I asked, astonished.

"Lord! he doesn't even suspect them!" cried Hamilton gaily. "I wish you

might meet a few of our talented brigadiers and colonels; _they_ have no

doubts concerning their several abilities!" Then, suddenly serious:

"Listen, sir. You know the north; you were bred and born to a knowledge

of the Iroquois, their language, character, habits, their intimate

social conditions, nay, you are even acquainted with what no other

living white man comprehends--their secret rites, their clan and family

laws and ties, their racial instincts, their most sacred rituals! You

are a sachem! Sir William Johnson was one, but he is dead. Who else

living, besides yourself, can speak to the Iroquois with clan

authority?"

"I do not know," I said, troubled. "Walter Butler may know something of

the Book of Rites, because he was raised up in place of some dead

Delaware dog!--" I clinched my hand, and stood silent in angry

meditation. Lifting my eyes I saw Hamilton watching me, amazed,

interested, delighted.

"I ask your indulgence," I said, embarrassed, "but when I think of the

insolence of that fellow--and that he dared call me brother and claim

clan kindred with a Wolf--the yellow Delaware mongrel!--" I laughed,

glancing shamefacedly at Colonel Hamilton.

"In another moment," I said, "you will doubt there is white blood in

me. It is strange how faithfully I cling to that dusky foster-mother,

the nation that adopted me. I was but a lad, Colonel Hamilton, and what

the Oneidas saw in me, or believed they saw, I never have accurately

learned--I do not really know to this day!--but when a war-chief died

they came to my father, asking that he permit them to adopt me and

raise me up. The ceremony took place. I, of course, never lived with

them--never even left my own roof--but I was adopted into the Wolf

Clan, the noble clan of the Iroquois. And--I have never forgotten

it--nor them. What touches an Oneida touches me!"

He nodded gravely, watching me with bright eyes.

"To-day the Long House is not the Five Nations," I continued. "The

Tuscaroras are the Sixth Nation; the Delawares now have come in, and

have been accepted as the Seventh Nation. But, as you know, the Long

House is split. The Onondagas are sullenly neutral--or say they

are--the Mohawks, Cayugas, Senecas, are openly leagued against us; the

Oneidas alone are with us--what is left of them after the terrible

punishment they received from the Mohawks and Senecas."

"And now you say that the Iroquois have determined to punish the

Oneidas again?"

"Yes, sir, to annihilate them for espousing our cause. And," I added

contemptuously, "Walter Butler dared believe that I would sit idle and

never lift a warning finger. True, I am first of all a Wolf--but next

am I an Oneida. And, as I may not sit in national council with my clan

to raise my voice against this punishment, and, as the Long House is

rent asunder forever, why, sir, I am an Oneida first of all--after my

allegiance to my own country--and I shall so conduct that Walter Butler

and the Delaware dogs of a cleft and yellow clan will remember that

when an Oneida speaks, they remain silent, they obey!"

I began to pace the chamber, arms folded, busy with my thoughts.

Hamilton sat buried in meditation for a space. Finally he arose,

extending his hand with that winning frankness so endearing to all. I

asked him to dine with us, but he excused himself, pleading affairs of

moment.

"Listen, Mr. Renault. I understand that his Excellency has certain

designs upon your amiability, and he most earnestly desires you to

remain here at the Blue Fox until such time as he summons you or sends

you orders. You are an officer of Tryon County militia, are you not?"

"Only ensign in the Rangers, but I never have even seen their colors,

much less carried them."

"You know Colonel Willett?"

"I have that very great honor," I said warmly.

"It _is_ an honor to know such a man. Excepting Schuyler, I think he is

the bravest, noblest gentleman in County Tryon." He walked toward the

door, head bowed in reflection, turned, offered his hand again with a

charming freedom, and bowed himself out.

Pride and deepest gratitude possessed my heart that his Excellency

should have found me worthy of his august commendation. In my young

head rang the words of Colonel Hamilton. I stood in the center of the

sunny room, repeating to myself the wonderful message, over and over,

until it seemed my happiness was too great to bear alone; and I leaned

close to the dividing door, calling "Elsin! Elsin! Are you awake?"

A sleepy voice bade me enter, and I opened the door and stood at the

sill, while the brightly flowered curtains of her bed rustled and

twitched. Presently she thrust a sleepy head forth, framed in chintz

roses--the flushed face of a child, drowsy eyes winking at the

sunbeams, powdered hair twisted up in a heavy knot.

"Goodness me," she murmured, "I am so hungry--so sleepy--" She yawned

shamelessly, blinked with her blue eyes, looked at me, and smiled.

"What o'clock is it, Carus?" she began; then a sudden consternation

sobered her, and she cried, "Oh, I forgot where we are! Mercy! To think

that I should wake to find myself a runaway! Carus, Carus, what in the

world is to become of me now? Where are we, Carus?"

"At the Blue Fox, near North Castle," I said gaily. "Why, Elsin--why,

child, what on earth is the matter?"--for the tears had rushed to her

eyes, and her woful little face quivered. A single tear fell, then the

wet lashes closed.

"O Carus! Carus!" she said, "what will become of me? You did it--you

made me do it! I've run away with you--why did you make me do it? Oh,

why, why?"

Dumb, miserable, I could only look at her, finding no word of

comfort--amazed, too, that the feverish spirit, the courage, the

amazing energy of the night before had exhaled, distilling now in the

tears which dazed me.

"I don't know why I came here with you," she whimpered, eyes closed on

her wet cheeks--"I must have been mad to do so. What will they

say?--what will Rosamund say? Why don't you speak to me, Carus? Why

don't you tell me what to do?"

And this from that high-strung, nerveless maid who had matured to

womanhood in the crisis of the night before--seizing command of a

menacing situation through sheer effrontery and wit, compelling fate

itself to swerve aside as she led our galloping horses through the

slowly closing gates of peril.

Her head drooped and lay on the edge of the bed pillowed by the

flowered curtains; she rubbed the tears from her eyes with white

fingers, drawing a deep, unsteady breath or two.

I had found my voice at last, assuring her that all was well, that she

should have a flag when she desired it, that here nobody knew who she

was, and that when she was dressed I was ready to discuss the situation

and do whatever was most advisable.

"If there's a scandal," she said dolefully, "I suppose I must ask a

flag at once."

"That would be best," I admitted.

"But there's no scandal yet," she protested.

"Not a breath!" I cried cheerfully. "You see, we have the situation in

our own hands. Where is that wit, where is that gay courage you wore

like magic armor through the real perils of yesterday?"

"Gone," she said, looking up at me. "I don't know where it is--I--I was

not myself yesterday. I was frightened--terror spurred me to things I

never dreamed of when I thought of you hanging there on the Common----"

"You blessed child!" I cried, dropping on one knee beside her.

She laid her hand on my head, looking at me for a long while in

silence.

"I can not help it," she said. "I really care nothing for what folk

say. All this that we have done--and my indiscretion--nay, that we have

run away and I am here with you--all this alarms me not at all.

Indeed," she added earnestly, "I do truly find you so agreeable that I

should have fretted had you gone away alone. Now I am honest with

myself and you, Carus--this matter has sobered me into gravest

reflection. I have the greatest curiosity concerning you--I had from

the very first--spite of all that childish silliness we committed. I

don't know what it is about you that I can not let you go until I learn

more of you. Perhaps I shall--we have a week here before a flag goes

north, have we not?" she asked naively.

"The flag goes at your pleasure, Elsin."

"Then it is my pleasure that we remain a while--and see--and see--" she

murmured, musing eyes fixed on the sunny window. "I would we could fall

in love, Carus!"

"We are pledged to try," I said gaily.

"Aye, we must try. Lord-a-mercy on me, for my small head is filled with

silliness, and my heart beats only for the vain pleasure of the moment.

A hundred times since I have known you, Carus, I would have sworn I

loved you--then something that you say or do repels me--or something,

perhaps, of my own inconstancy--and only that intense curiosity

concerning you remains. That is not love, is it?"

"I think not."

"Yet look how I set my teeth and drove blindly full tilt at Destiny

when I thought you stood in peril! Do women do such things for

friendship's sake?"

"Men do--I don't know. You are a faultless friend, at any rate. And on

that friendship we must build."

"With your indifference and my vanity and inconstancy? God send it be

no castle of cards, Carus! Tell me, have you, too, a stinging curiosity

concerning me? Do you desire to fathom my shallow spirit, to learn what

every passing smile might indicate, to understand me when I am silent,

to comprehend me when I converse with others?"

"I--I have thought of these things, Elsin. Never having understood

you--judging hastily, too--and being so intimately busy with the--the

matters you know of--I never pursued my studies far--deeming you

betrothed and--and----"

"A coquette?"

"A child, Elsin, heart-free and capricious, contradictory, imperious,

and--and overyoung----"

"O Carus!"

"I meant no reproach," I said hastily. "A nectarine requires time, even

though the sunlight paints it so prettily in all its unripe, flawless

symmetry. And I have--I have lived all my life in sober company. My

father was old, my mother placid and saddened by the loss of all her

children save myself. I had few companions--none of my own age except

when we went to Albany, where I learned to bear myself in company. At

Johnson Hall, at Varick's, at Butlersbury, I was but a shy lad, warned

by my parents to formality, for they approved little of the gaiety that

I would gladly have joined in. And so I know nothing of women--nor did

I learn much in New York, where the surface of life is so prettily

polished that it mirrors, as you say, only one's own inquiring eyes."

I seated myself cross-legged on the floor, looking up at the sweet face

on the bed's edge framed by the chintz.

"Did you never conceive an affection?" she asked, watching me.

"Why, yes--for a day or two. I think women tire of me."

"No, you tire of them."

"Only when----"

"When what?"

"Nothing," I said quietly.

"Do you mean when they fall in love with you?" she asked.

"They don't. Some have plagued me to delight in my confusion."

"Like Rosamund Barry?"

I was silent.

"She," observed Elsin musingly, "was mad about you. No, you need not

laugh or shrug impatiently--_I_ know, Carus; she was mad to have you

love her! Do you think I have neither eyes nor ears? But you treated her

no whit better than you treated me. That I am certain of--did you?"

"What do you mean?"

"_Did_ you?"

"Did I do what?"

"Treat Rosamund Barry kinder than you did me?"

"In what way?"

"Did you kiss her?"

"Never!"

"Would you say 'Never!' if you had?"

"No, I should say nothing."

"I knew it!" she cried, laughing. "I was certain of it. But, mercy on

us, there were scores more women in New York--and I mean to ask you

about each one, Carus, each separate one--some time--but, oh, I am so

hungry now!"

I sprang to my feet, and walking into my chamber closed the door.

"Talk to me through the keyhole!" she called. "I shall tie my hair in a

club, and bathe me and clothe me very quickly. Are you there, Carus? Do

you hear what I say?"

So I leaned against the door and chatted on about Colonel Hamilton,

until I ventured to hint at some small word of praise for me from his

Excellency. With that she was at the door, all eagerness: "Oh, Carus! I

knew you were brave and true! Did his Excellency say so? And well he

might, too!--with you, a gentleman, facing the vilest of deaths there

in New York, year after year. I am so glad, so proud of you, Carus, so

happy! What have they made you--a major-general?"

"Oh, not yet," I said, laughing.

"And why not?" she exclaimed hotly.

"Elsin, if you don't dress quickly I'll sit at breakfast without you!"

I warned her.

"Oh, I will, I will; I'm lacing--something--this very instant! Carus,

when I bid you, you may come in and tie my shoulder-points. Wait a

moment, silly! Just one more second. Now!"

As I entered she came up to me, turning her shoulder, and I threaded

the points clumsily enough, I suppose, but she thanked me very sweetly,

turned to the mirror, patted the queue-ribbon to a flamboyant allure,

and, catching my hand in hers, pointed at the glass which reflected us

both.

"Look at us!" she exclaimed, "look at the two runaways! Goodness, I

should never have believed it, Carus!"

We stood a moment, hand clasping hand, curiously regarding the mirrored

faces that smiled back so strangely at us. Then, somewhat subdued and

thoughtful, we walked out through my chamber into a sunny little

breakfast-room where landlord and servant received us a trifle too

solemnly, and placed us at the cloth.

"Their owlish eyes mean Gretna Green," whispered Elsin, leaning close

to me; "but what do we care, Carus? And they think us married in New

York. Now, sir, if you ever wished to see how a hungry maid can eat

Tapaan soupaan, you shall see now!"

The Tapaan hasty-pudding was set before us, and in a twinkling we were

busy as bees in clover. Pompions and clingstone peaches went the way of

the soupaan; a dish of troutlings followed, and out of the corner of my

eye I saw other dainties coming and rejoiced. Lord, what a pair of

appetites were there! I think the Blue Fox must have licked his painted

chops on the swinging sign under the window to see how we did full

justice to the fare, slighting nothing set before us. And while the

servants were running hither and thither with dishes and glasses I

questioned the landlord, who was evidently prodigiously impressed with

Colonel Hamilton's visit; and I gathered from mine host that, excepting

for ourselves, all the other guests were officers of various degrees,

and that, thanks to the nearness of the army and the consequent

scarcity of skinners, business was brisk and profitable, for which he

thanked God and his Excellency.

Elsin, resting one elbow on the table, listened and looked out into the

village street where farmers and soldiers were passing, some arm in

arm, gravely smoking their clay pipes and discussing matters in the

sunshine, others entering or leaving the few shops where every sort of

ware was exposed for sale, still others gathered on the bridge, some

fishing in the Bronx, some looking on or reading fresh newspapers from

New England or Philadelphia, or a stale and tattered Gazette which had

found its way out of New York.

At a nod from me the landlord signaled the servants and withdrew,

leaving us there alone together with a bottle of claret on the table

and a dish of cakes and raisins.

"So these good folk are rebels," mused Elsin, gazing at the people in

the street below. "They seem much like other people, Carus."

"They are," I said, laughing.

"Well," she said, "they told me otherwise in New York. But I can see no

very great ferocity in your soldiers' countenances. Nor do they dress

in rags. Mr. De Lancey told me that the Continentals scarce mustered a

pair of breeches to a brigade."

"It has been almost as bad as that," I said gravely. "These troops are

no doubt clothed in uniforms sent from France, but I fear there are

rags and to spare in the south, where Greene and Lafayette are harrying

Cornwallis--God help them!"

"Amen," she said softly, looking at me.

Touched as I had never been by her, I held out my hand; she laid hers

in mine gravely.

"So that they keep clear of Canada, I say God speed men who stand for

their own homes, Carus! But," she added innocently, "I could not be

indifferent to a cause which you serve. Come over here to the

window--draw your chair where you can see. Look at that officer, how

gallant he is in his white uniform faced with green!"

"That is a French officer," I said. "Those three soldiers passing

yonder who wear white facing on their blue coats, and black

spatterdashes from ankle to thigh, are infantry of the New England

line. The soldiers smoking under the tree are New York and New Jersey

men; they wear buff copper-clouts, and their uniform is buff and blue.

Maryland troops wear red facings; the Georgia line are faced with blue,

edged around by white. There goes an artilleryman; he's all blue and

scarlet, with yellow on his hat; and here stroll a dozen dragoons in

helmet and jack-boots and blue jackets laced, lined, and faced with

white. Ah, Elsin, these same men have limped barefoot, half-naked,

through snow and sun because his Excellency led them."

"It is strange," she said, "how you turn grave and how a hush comes, a

little pause of reverence, whenever you name--his Excellency. Do all so

stand in awe of him?"

"None names him lightly, Elsin."

"Have you ever seen him?"

"Never, child."

"And yet you approach even his name in hushed respect."

"Yes, even his name. I should like to see him," I continued wistfully,

"to hear him speak once, to meet his calm eye. But I never shall. My

service is of such a nature that it is inexpedient for him to receive

me openly. So I never shall see him--save, perhaps, when the long war

ends--God knows----"

She dropped her hand on mine and leaned lightly back against my

shoulder.

"You must not fret," she murmured. "Remember that staff-officer said he

praised you."

"I do, I do remember!" I repeated gratefully. "It was a reward I never

dared expect--never dreamed of. His Excellency has been kind to me,

indeed."

It was now past four o'clock in the afternoon, and Elsin, who had noted

the wares in the shop-windows, desired to price the few simple goods

offered for sale; so we went out into the dusty village street to see

what was to be seen, but the few shops we entered were full of soldiers

and not overclean, and the wares offered for sale were not attractive.

I remember she bought points and some stuff for stocks, and needles and

a reel of thread, and when she offered a gold piece everybody looked at

us, and the shopkeeper called her "My lady" and me "My lord," and gave

us in change for the gold piece a great handful of paper money.

We emerged from the shop amazed, and doubtful of the paper stuff, and

walked up the street and out into the country, pausing under a great

maple-tree to sort this new Continental currency, of which we had

enough to stuff a pillow.

Scrip by scrip I examined the legal tender of my country, Elsin, her

chin on my shoulder, scrutinizing the printed slips of yellow, brown,

and red in growing wonder. One slip bore three arrows on it, under

which was printed:

Fifty Dollars.

Printed by H. A. L. L. and S. E. L.

1778.

Upon the other side was a pyramid in a double circle, surmounted by the

legend:

PERENNIS.

And it was further decorated with the following:

"No. 16780 Fifty Dollars. This Bill entitles the Bearer to receive

Fifty Spanish milled dollars or the value thereof in Gold or

Silver, according to the Resolution passed by Congress at

Philadelphia, September 26th, 1788.

"J. WATKINS; I. K."

And we had several dozen of these of equal or less denomination.

"Goodness," exclaimed Elsin, "was my guinea worth all these dollars?

And do you suppose that we could buy anything with these paper bills?"

"Certainly," I said, loyal to my country's currency; "they're just as

good as silver shillings--if you only have enough of them."

"But what use will they be to me in Canada?"

That was true enough. I immediately pocketed the mass of paper and

tendered her a guinea in exchange, but she refused it, and we had a

pretty quarrel there under the maple-tree.

"Carus," she said at last, "let us keep them, anyhow, and never, never

spend them. Some day we may care to remember this July afternoon, and

how you and I went a-shopping as sober as a wedded pair in Hanover

Square."

There was a certain note of seriousness in her voice that sobered me,

too. I drew her arm through mine, and we strolled out into the sunshine

and northward along the little river, where in shallow brown pools

scores of minnows stemmed the current, and we saw the slim trout lying

in schools under the bush's shadows, and the great silver and blue

kingfishers winging up and down like flashes of azure fire.

A mile out a sentinel stopped us, inquiring our business, and as we had

none we turned back, for it mattered little to us where we sauntered.

Farmers were cutting hay in the river-meadows, under the direction of a

mounted sergeant of dragoons; herds of cattle and sheep grazed among

the hills, shepherded by soldiers. Every now and again dragoons rode

past us, convoying endless lines of wagons piled up with barrels,

crates, sacks of meal, and sometimes with bolts of coarse cloth.

To escape the dust raised by so many hoofs and wheels we took to the

fields and found a shady place on a hill which overlooked the country.

Then for the first time I realized the nearness of the army, for

everywhere in the distance white tents gleamed against the green, and

bright flags were flying from hillocks, and on a level plain that

stretched away toward the Hudson I saw long dark lines moving, or

halted motionless, with the glimmer of steel playing through the

sunshine; and I, for the first time, beheld a brigade of our army at

exercise.

We were too far away to see, yet it was a sight to stir one who had

endured that prison city so long, never seeing a Continental soldier

except as a prisoner marched through the streets to the jails or the

hulks in the river. But there they were--those men of White Plains, of

Princeton, of Camden, and of the Wilderness--the men of Long Island,

and Germantown, and Stony Point!--there they were, wheeling by the

right flank, wheeling by the left, marching and countermarching,

drilling away, busy as bees in the July sun.

"Ah, Elsin," I said, "when they storm New York the man who misses that

splendid climax will miss the best of his life--and never forget that

he has missed it as long as he lives to mask his vain regret!"

"Why is it that you are not content?" she asked. "For four years you

have moved in the shadow of destruction."

"But I have never fought in battle," I said; "never fired a single shot

in earnest, never heard the field-horn of the light infantry nor the

cavalry-trumpet above the fusillade, never heard the officers shouting,

the mad gallop of artillery, the yelling onset--why, I know nothing of

the pleasures of strife, only the smooth deceit and bland hypocrisy,

only the eavesdropping and the ignoble pretense! At times I can

scarcely breathe in my desire to wash my honor in the rifle flames--to

be hurled pell-mell among the heaving, straining melee, thrusting,

stabbing, cutting my fill, till I can no longer hear or see. Four

years, Elsin! think of it--think of being chained in the midst of this

magnificent activity for four years! And now, when I beg a billet among

the dragoons, they tell me I am fashioned for diplomacy, not for war,

and hint of my usefulness on the frontier!"

"What frontier?" she asked quickly.

"Tryon County, I suppose."

"Where that dreadful work never ceases?"

"Hatchet and scalping-knife are ever busy there," I said grimly. "Who

knows? I may yet have my fill and to spare!"

She sat silent for so long that I presently turned from the distant

martial spectacle to look at her inquiringly. She smiled, drawing a

long breath, and shaking her head.

"I never seem to understand you, Carus," she said. "You have done your

part, yet it appears already you are planning to go hunting about for

some obliging savage to knock you in the head with a death-maul."

"But the war is not ended, Elsin."

"No, nor like to be until it compasses your death. Then, indeed, will

it be ended for me, and the world with it!"

"Why, Elsin!" I laughed, "this is a new note in your voice."

"Is it? Perhaps it is. I told you, Carus, that there is no happiness in

love. And, just now, I love you. It is strange, is it not?--when aught

threatens you, straightway I begin to sadden and presently fall in love

with you; but when there's no danger anywhere, and I have nothing to

sadden me, why, I'm not at all sure that I love you enough to pass the

balance of the day in your companionship--only that when you are away I

desire to know where you are and what you do, and with whom you walk

and talk and laugh. Deary me! deary me! I know not what I want, Carus.

Let us go to the Blue Fox and drink a dish of tea."

We walked back to the inn through the sweetest evening air that I had

breathed in many a day, Elsin stopping now and then to add a blossom to

the great armful of wild flowers that she had gathered, I lingering,

happy in my freedom as a lad loosed from school, now pausing to skip

flat stones across the Bronx, now creeping up to the bank to surprise

the trout and see them scatter like winged shadows over the golden

gravel, now whistling to imitate that rosy-throated bird who sits so

high in his black-and-white livery and sings into happiness all who

hear him.

The sun was low over the Jersey highlands; swarms of swallows rose,

soared, darted, and dipped in the evening sky. I heard the far

camp-bugles playing softly, the dulled roll of drums among the eastern

hills; then, as the red sun went out behind the wooded heights, bang!

the evening gun's soft thunder shook the silence. And our day was

ended.

The Reckoning · 第 7 / 16 章