THE COUNCIL OF SAFETY
The sun had risen when we came once more in view of the groves of
Fairlee. Toby's pace had degenerated into a walk, as if not to disturb
the fair burden he bore, for she, overcome with fatigue and
excitement, was quietly sleeping with her head on my shoulder. Toby
picked his way like a dancing-master, and though the road was rough,
never once did he stumble; he still bore himself gallantly for the old
House of Fairlee. Ah! Toby, that road was miles too short for your
master. Willingly would he have ridden thus, aye, until his hair had
turned as white as snow on his brows, until the hand that guided the
reins became too feeble to grasp them; aye, even unto the end of time.
But before us lay Fairlee, and beyond that lay duty and the army.
"Look once more, my cavalier," said I to myself; "look once more, for
the moments are short, and in the days to come, in the dreary bivouacs
and on the long marches, when the world seems bare and cold, the
memory of that sweet face will brighten up with sunshine your
existence and make it all glorious again. Oh, hang it, here is
Fairlee!"
"Mistress Jean," I whispered. I was loath to wake her, but it had to
be done. "Mistress Jean!" I said, this time louder, and she awoke with
a start. "This is Fairlee, and you can rest here with my mother, while
I push on."
"Fairlee? Why, where am I? Oh, I remember now. Did I go to sleep, Mr.
Frisby?"
"You did, Mistress Jean."
A quick, blush came.
"Oh," she said, "how can I thank you? I don't deserve----"
"Ah, Mistress Jean, it is I who do not deserve that pleasure. I would
go through a hundred fights to be able to do it again; but you are
tired, and I will rouse the house."
So, hammering on the door, I soon brought John Cotton to it. His
woolly hair almost went straight on seeing me, and he started back,
for he thought he saw my ghost.
"Good Lord, Mars Jim," he stammered, "does that be you?"
"Yes, you black scamp." And I soon convinced him of my real
personality.
"But, Mars Jim, who is dat you got wid you? It ain't one of dem
Yankee ladies, is it?" For, I am sorry to say, John Cotton did not
approve of the ladies in question, and was afraid I would "disgrace de
family" if I married one of them. Before I could answer I heard a glad
little cry, and there was my mother, coming down the stairway of the
great hall.
"How is my little lady?" said I, as I picked her up and kissed her,
and then I introduced Mistress Jean to her and told her of our
adventure at the Braes.
Then my mother went up to her, in her stately little way, and took her
hands in hers, and kissed and welcomed her to the House of Fairlee.
So they made friends with each other then and there, as women do, and
my mother led her away, up the broad stairs, and I stood looking after
them. Then I turned to my own room, and, throwing myself on the bed,
I slept the sleep of exhaustion for many hours.
When the hour of my awakening came I sprang up, for there lay the
despatch which I was to bear to the Council of Safety.
Drawing on my riding-boots and buckling on my sword, I called John
Cotton to bring my horse to the door, for several miles lay between
Fairlee and Rock Hall, where the boat lay to take me to Annapolis.
I walked across to the hall and on to the old porch, where I saw
Mistress Jean standing, gazing wistfully out on the broad bay.
"He is safe now, Mistress Jean."
"Yes," she said with a sad smile, "but when shall I ever see him
again?"
"Just as soon as we whip them," I replied.
"Then it will never be," came her retort.
"Oh, ho! What will your uncle, Captain Nicholson, say when he finds he
has such a fiery little Tory in his house? He will have to give up
chasing the redcoats to suppress the Goddess of Sedition in his own
camp."
But at this Mistress Jean gave her head a toss and walked away to the
end of the porch.
Then John Cotton brought the horse to the steps.
"Are you going so soon, Mr. Frisby?"
"I must," I answered; "I am a bearer of despatches to the Council of
Safety. I would gladly desert my trust to be your escort to
Chestertown, but--"
"The honour of the House of Fairlee stands in the way," said she
mockingly.
"Not that, my lady," I replied, bowing courteously, "but the fact that
I would fall even lower in your good graces."
"Well said, cavalier," she retorted, with a sweeping courtesy. "'Tis a
pity that so fine a gentleman should be a rebel."
"Or so fair a maid a Tory."
"Is this a minuet?" came the laughing voice of my mother from the
door.
"Nay, mother, I am only bidding Mistress Jean good-bye with all due
ceremony."
A few moments later I was in the saddle, trotting slowly off, while
behind me fluttered their handkerchiefs, waving good-bye.
Rock Hall lies on a bluff, looking out across the bay. To the
southward lies the Isle of Kent, with its fertile fields of waving
grain, and off there on the horizon the greenish ribbon near the sky
line tells where the hills of Anne Arundel lay.
Down below, under the bluff, lay a long, slender boat, shaped like a
canoe, but much larger, stouter, stronger, and far swifter, when the
wind filled its sails and carried it like a bird skimming over the
waters.
"An English man-of-war is lying off the Isle of Kent now," said the
old waterman in answer to my question, "but we can walk all around her
in this boat."
"Then we will start immediately," I replied, and placing my things on
board we were soon under way.
The wind caught our sails; we stood out into the bay gloriously, and
she fairly flew through the water. As we rounded the Isle of Kent we
saw, lying almost in our track, the English man-of-war, lazily rolling
with the tide.
Then there was a great bustle on board, and the sailors flew to the
rigging, the sails filled with the wind, and through the port hole was
run the ugly muzzle of a Long Tom. The waterman with me laughed
merrily.
"They think they can stop us," said he, but he never altered his
course.
So we bore down on her until there came a flash; a cannon ball came
ricochetting across the water, but fell short by a hundred yards.
The waterman chuckled. "That is about the right distance," said he;
and the boat answering the helm, fairly danced around his Majesty's
representative, always, by a saving grace, just beyond cannon shot.
And when his Majesty's ship actually gave chase and sent a broadside
after our impertinent piece of baggage the waterman fairly danced with
delight and led her a merry chase down the bay until we were opposite
Annapolis. Then with a flirt of her sail we bade them good-bye and ran
for the mouth of the Severn. Gaining that, we soon passed the charred
hulk of the Peggy Stewart and ran up beside the wharf, and I found
myself walking the streets of that gay little capital.
It was growing somewhat late, but I made my way at once to the State
House, where the Convention of the Freemen of the Province sat, hoping
still to find them at their deliberations. I paused for the moment
when I came to the foot of the knoll on which the State House stands,
for it had only recently been completed, and was the noblest building
in America. Its massive proportions towered high above me, overawing
the town at its feet, and commanding the country for miles around. But
it was not a time for halting. Hurrying up the long flights of steps,
I found myself in the great lobby, with its lofty ceilings and its air
of vastness.
The Convention had adjourned but a short time before, and the lobby
was still filled with men. As I threaded my way through them my dusty
uniform and muddy boots marked me out as a bearer of despatches.
"News from the army--victory or defeat?" cried eager voices around me.
Answer them I would not, but hurried on to the room where sat the
Council of Safety, who held the fate and the fortunes of the province
in its hand and was the heart and soul of the great revolt.
An usher stood at the door, but, seeing my uniform, threw it wide
open, and, as I entered, softly swung it to behind me. It was a lofty
room in which I found myself, with immense windows looking out over
the town and the sweep of the waters of the bay to the distant line
of the eastern shore. A long, broad table extended down the centre of
the room. Around it were seated some sixteen or eighteen gentlemen.
Staid men and grave they were, past the middle age of life, for the
younger men had gone to fight the battles of the republic; men who
were fitted by experience to guide the province through the stormy
scenes of the civil war.
At their head sat a venerable gentleman whom I knew to be Matthew
Tilghman, the patriarch of the Colony. At his right hand sat a man of
sturdy build, ruddy countenance, and dark hair and eyes, more like a
prosperous planter with many acres and numerous slaves than the man
who was soon to become the Great War Governor of Maryland. All down
the table on either side sat men with strong, determined faces, whose
names bespoke the chieftainship of many a powerful family. A movement
of interest ran down the table as I entered and delivered to the
venerable Chairman the despatch. He broke the seal with nervous
fingers, and then rising, read General Washington's despatch aloud
amid intense interest.
"Battle," "defeat," "rout," "Cortelyou House," "the Maryland Line."
"Good, I see the boys did their duty," were among the many
exclamations I heard around the table and when the despatch ended.
"The bearer will describe the battle."
They all turned to me, and Thomas Johnson said: "Come, young
gentleman, tell us everything you saw and heard."
So I took my place by the Chairman and told them of what I had seen
and done, amid many interruptions and eager questions from the
Council.
Thus for a time, as I stood there, I became a man of importance,
telling the tale of the battle, of the defeat and the rout, of the
fiery charges, the death, the pain and the anguish of it all, until
long after the night had fallen. But an end comes to all things, and
Thomas Johnson, laying his hand on my shoulder, said:
"Young gentleman, you must stay with me to-night."
I accepted gladly, for the inns were crowded, and it was somewhat late
in the evening to find a friend to take me in. We strolled across the
State House grounds under the soft September skies, through the wide,
dusty streets, until we came to the future Governor's house. Though it
was late, we talked for yet another hour, and then, with a cheery
good-night, I was shown to my room.