WE MEET THE MAID
We had just come in sight of the blue waters of the Elk, as it rolled
between the forest-clad hills on either side, basking here for a
moment in the sunshine, then lost in the deeper shadows of the
overhanging forest.
"There rolls the Elk," cried Dick. "Only ten miles more, and a stroke
upon a piece of paper, and then, my boy, you are done for. A pain that
eats its way ever inward, a thirst that never slackens, and over all
the black night lowering down. Aye, so it is, Sir Monk of the Long
Face; but we will have some fun before we are put under the sod or our
bones are left to whiten on the sands."
"That we will, Sir Richard. And now we are in for it, for here comes
our first adventure. Is she ugly or is she fair? Which, Sir Richard?"
For, as we reached the point where our road joins the river road, we
saw, approaching along the lower road, a gentleman riding on a
powerful horse, while behind him on a pillion sat a slight girlish
figure, hidden in part by the broad shoulders of the rider.
"By Jove, it is Gordon of the Braes," said Dick.
"What, the suspected Tory?"
"Yes; and that must be his daughter. They say she is the fairest lass
in all the county of Cecil."
"Tory or no Tory," said I, "with a fair face at stake, I will speak to
him."
They were as yet some distance off, but as the rider drew nearer to us
we saw that he was a splendid specimen of manhood, such as I had but
seldom seen before.
While strong of frame and above the medium height, he carried himself
and rode with a courtliness and ease that bespoke the accomplished
horseman and gentleman. His splendid head and face showed the marks of
an adventurous career, and all bespoke the blood of the family from
which he had sprung, the Gordons of Avochie.
But striking as was the figure of the rider, the glimpse we caught of
the fair burden behind made us for the moment forget him.
A slender figure it was that sat upon the pillion, with wonderful eyes
of the darkest blue and hair of the deepest brown that waved and
clustered around the temples--a mouth that was winsome and sweet, a
small and aristocratic nose, a chin that was slightly determined,
giving her altogether a queenly air, as she sat so straight and prim
behind her father.
"Sir," said I, making Toby advance and bowing to his mane, "as we are
travelling the same way, will you permit us to accompany you? My
friend is Richard Ringgold of Hunting Field and I am James Frisby of
Fairlee."
"It will give me pleasure," he replied, saluting courteously, "to have
your company to the Head of Elk. I know your families and your houses
well, and you, no doubt, have heard of me, Charles Gordon of the
Braes."
"That we have," said Dick Ringgold. "It was only a week ago that my
mother spoke of your first coming to old Kent."
"It was kind of her to remember me," he replied. "She was a great
belle and a beauty in her youth."
Dick smiled with pleasure, and I, taking advantage of a narrow place
in the road, fell behind, and rode so I could talk to Mistress Jean,
much to Master Richard's secret indignation. But she received me with
a show of displeasure, and though I courteously asked her of her
journey, it was some minutes before I knew the cause thereof.
"Are you not," said she, and her aristocratic little head was in the
air, "afraid to be seen riding with suspected Tories, you who wear the
black cockade?"
And then I remembered that I wore the emblem of our party.
"Afraid!" I replied. "Afraid! We who have bearded the Ministers of the
Crown in the broad light of day? Do you think I am afraid of our own
men? Why, if Mistress North herself were half as fair as your ladyship
of the Braes, I would ride with her through all the armies of the
patriots, and no man would dare say me nay."
A merry twinkle came into her eyes. "Would you wear the red cockade if
she should ask you?"
"Ah, Mistress Jean, would you seduce me from my allegiance to the
cause of the patriots?"
"To the cause of the patriots? What of your allegiance to the King?"
"But the King himself has broken that, and forced us in self-defence
to take up arms in revolt. Would you have me true to my people, or to
the King, who is over the sea?"
"To the King," she answered promptly, "for the King's Ministers may be
bad men to-day and good to-morrow, but if you once strike a blow at
the mother country and win, then the ties of love, of friendship, and
of interest are severed for ever."
"Yes; but she should have thought of that before she forced us to it."
"What spoiled children you are," she cried. "Because the taffy is not
as good as usual you want to pull the house down about our ears."
Thus receiving and parrying thrusts, we rode along the banks of the
Elk, and as we neared the ferry we met numbers of men travelling the
same way with us, all bound for the great mustering, and though they
returned our salutations, seeing the black cockade in our hats, they
scowled on Gordon of the Braes.
"There goes that dog of a Tory," I would hear them growl to one
another as we passed.
But Gordon rode on with a cool, indifferent, almost contemptuous
manner, which made the frowns grow blacker, and the mutterings deeper
and louder. But no man as yet sought to beard him, for his courage and
his daring were well known throughout the shore, and it would have
taken a bold man indeed to cross Gordon of the Braes.
At last we came to the ferry and saw on the hillside, among the forest
trees, the white tents, already taking on the appearance of a
well-regulated camp. The little town amid the trees, busy with the
life of the moving crowd, and bright with the uniforms of the Maryland
Line, which we were soon to don, formed a curious spectacle as we
entered.
Every part of the province was represented. Here was a tall
backwoodsman in his coonskin cap, buckskin shirt and leggings, with
his long and deadly rifle, totally unadorned by the glint of silver or
chasing on the barrel to betray him to his redskin neighbour--and you
knew that one of Cresap's riflemen was before you.
By his side, for the moment, was a young tobacco planter from Prince
George. The youngster to whom he was talking, clad in the scarlet and
buff of the Maryland Line, was a young dandy from Annapolis.
And so it was all through the crowd, the frontiersman, the hard-riding
country squire, and the city swell, all mingled together, and all
animated with one all-pervading and all-engrossing thought--how best
to secure the freedom of the country and resist the tyranny of the
King.
As we made our way through the crowd the faces grew dark as they saw
the Tory, but as Dick and I rode on either hand, with our black
cockades, the crowd murmuringly gave way before us, and though all the
people were hostile to him, and he could not help but see it, he
coolly looked them over and rode as if he had no enemy within a
hundred miles.
But the colour in Mistress Jean's cheek flamed high, and I saw her
little hands clenched together, as if she would like to tell these
rebels what she thought of their treatment of her father. And I,
seeing the war signal so clearly on her cheek, and daring not the
batteries of her eyes and wit, was discreet and said not a word.
We took our way to the inn, kept by one John McLean, a genial host and
Scotchman, who was well known in three provinces, and kept the finest
inn for many miles around.
He received us in a jovial way, for though he was a stanch patriot, he
and Gordon had been friends for many years.
"So, Mistress Jean, you have deigned to honour my roof with your
presence. Welcome, welcome, all of you."
And though I had swung myself off Toby to assist Mistress Jean to
dismount, he was before me and swung her lightly to the ground.
"I declare," he said, "you grow bonnier every day, lassie," which
brought a blush to her cheek. Then, turning, he called his wife and
placed Mistress Jean in her charge.
"I am sorry to say, gentlemen, that the inn is very crowded, as you
see, but I think I can find a place for you." Then drawing the Tory
aside for a little way, we heard him remonstrating with him for coming
to the town at such a time, when the feeling ran so strong and high
against the Loyalist.
"You risk your life," he said, "for the slightest spark or
indiscretion will bring a mob, boiling and seething around you. The
officers will not be able to hold the men in, as they are only
volunteers, and have not yet felt the hand of discipline."
But Charles Gordon shrugged his shoulders, and his reply came
distinct and clear: "I thought you knew me better, McLean. I would
not hide my head for a hundred or a thousand of them;" and he turned
and went into the inn.
The innkeeper made a gesture of despair. "That is always the way,"
said he, "both in this country and the old; tell a Gordon of a danger
and he will rush right into it, and then expect to come out safe and
sound."
We laughed, for the expression on the old Scotchman's face was so
droll.
"But now for your room, gentlemen;" and he led the way to a small room
under the gable roof. "It is the only room I have left," he said, "but
you are welcome to it."
It was now somewhat late in the afternoon, but having made ourselves
presentable and partaken of a lunch, we went to report ourselves to
Captain Ramsay of the 1st Regiment of the Maryland Line.
He received us at his tent door with a warm grasp of the hand. "You
are the very lads I have been waiting for," he said. "I have two
Lieutenancies to fill, and you are the men to fill them."
"But, Captain," said Dick Ringgold, "we have not been tried yet. Let
us go into the ranks and fight our way up, as so many better men than
we are doing."
I could not help admiring Dick for his modesty, and though I, too,
said the same thing, I confess I hoped the Captain would not hear of
it, and so it proved.
"No, no," he said, and patted Dick on the shoulder. "I must have you;
I know the blood that runs in your veins, lads, and that I will have
no better fighting stock in the army." And thus it was settled, and
we became officers in that Maryland Line, and--I say it with all due
modesty--the most famous of all the fighting regiments in the struggle
for the Great Cause.