THE COMING OF THE MAID
Many months had passed away, spring had come again, and the fair city
of Annapolis lay in a mass of flowers. The vivid green of the old
trees cast a delightful shade over all, tempting one to stroll through
the quiet streets and byways, past the moss-grown walls, the
old-fashioned gardens, buried in roses, and the stately, proud
mansions of many of Maryland's best and bravest.
I was standing on a step and above me stood Mistresses Polly and Betsy
Johnson, who were railing at me now that I no longer wore a uniform
and was simply a plain member of the Legislature.
"He looked so fine in his brass buttons," said Mistress Polly.
"A brave, bold, quite proper-looking young fellow," added Mistress
Betsy.
"And now just look at him," continued Mistress Polly pathetically; and
they surveyed me sorrowfully, while malicious mischief played around
the corners of their eyes.
I laughed outright. I could not help it, so droll was the expression
on their faces.
"True, your ladyship," I said; "the toga does not fit a young man so
well as the buckled sabre and glittering epaulets. But now that dull
peace has come, the hall of the Legislature is the only place where
you can throw the weight of your sword in the conflict and wield some
influence in the great struggles of the country; would you have me
idle?"
"Nay, I would not have that," said Mistress Polly judiciously. "But
your round head and big hands are just the things for a fight, and
though your voice is--well--can be heard a considerable distance, I am
afraid----" She paused, as if doubtful about its being put to any good
use in the hall of the Assembly.
Decidedly I was getting the worst of it.
At this moment Dick Ringgold, who represented Kent with me, came
swinging up the street, and, seeing me standing on the steps, hailed
me with--
"Hello, Frisby, have you heard the news?"
"What news?"
"Your old Tory friend Gordon is on the Sally Ann, from London, which
has just come up the harbour."
"Any one with him?" I asked anxiously.
"Well," said Dick, maliciously drawling it out, "I heard some one say
there was a young lady with him."
I did not stop to protest against the laughter that followed me as I
dashed down the street, or to Dick's shout as he called something
after me. A few minutes later I was on the wharf.
Out in the stream, swaying with the current of the tide, lay the Sally
Ann, her tall spars tapering high in air, her decks full of bustle and
activity, showing the journey's end and that the final preparations
for disembarkation were under full headway.
As I arrived a boat was pulling off from her side containing two
passengers. As I saw them my heart gave a great bound; my hand went to
my hat and swung it around my head. In answer to my signal came the
fluttering of a handkerchief.
"Sir," said I, as the old Tory stepped ashore, "let me be the first
to welcome you back to old Maryland."
"Would that all my enemies were like you!" he replied. "I hesitated
long about returning, but Jean would have it so."
And Mistress Jean said not a word as I took her hand in mine, but her
face was mantled in scarlet and her eyes were downcast.
The prim old garden of the Nicholsons never looked more charming, the
flowers more sweet and beautiful, or the green boxwood hedges more
suggestive of rest and repose; the lazy waters of the Chester rolled
along at its foot, gently lapping the grass. Ah! the sun was shining
on a glorious world that day, for Mistress Jean walked beside me.
"Mistress Jean," said I, as we stood where the waters met the grass
and looked out over the broad and silent river, flowing on and on as
if to eternity, "our lives have been more like mountain torrents than
the broad smooth river here. We have lived through the battles and
sieges, seen blood and death and all the horrors of a great war, but
now that peace has come, and our course lies through pleasant fields
and verdant meadows, would it not be best for them to join and flow on
as this great river does, Jean? Ah, Jean, you know how much I love
you."
And then she placed her hand in mine; her eyes spoke that which I most
wished to know, and the very earth seemed glorious.
I know not how long we stood there, when there came Mistress Nancy
Nicholson's voice through the garden, calling, "Jean, Jean, where are
you?"
"Here," she answered; and with that Mistress Nancy came running round
the hedge.
"Oh, Jean," she cried, "Dick has proposed."
And then, seeing me, she stamped her little foot, and cried, "Oh,
bother!" blushing meanwhile as red as one of her roses.
"And so have I, Mistress Nancy," I replied.
* * * * *
And now, my children, I end this tale, sitting here on the old porch
at Fairlee. The pen drops from my hand, but my eyes are not too dim to
see the flash of the sunlight on the waters of the great bay through
the break in the trees.
Nor are they too dim, Miss Jean, in spite of the impertinent toss of
your head, to see in you the likeness of the maid that led me such a
wild dance in the days of my youth. And I promise you, if you do not
smile on young Dick Ringgold and stop your outrageous treatment of
him, I will not leave you a cent in my will.
There, there; I retract every word that I said. Was there ever so
audacious a monkey in the world?
There, I have finished. Oh, yes, I forgot--
"John Cotton, bring me some more mint."
THE END.