BOB'S GOOD ANGEL.
Our friends walked away, thoroughly mad with the officer, who had,
however, only done his duty.
That Bob was condemned to death on such short notice and poor evidence
may appear strange to our readers, but they must remember that the
country was at war.
England had invaded the States, and had boldly declared that Washington
should be reduced to ashes.
The republic was only a few years old, and there were many of the old
tories who believed that England would subjugate the new nation, and
reduce it to a principality or dependency of Britain.
These tories, while professedly loyal to the government, were more the
friends of England.
They loved the glare and glitter of a court, and yearned for a native
aristocracy. A king could confer titles, and these superficial
creatures felt that a title was something worth having.
The government knew all this--knew that there was a vast amount of
veiled treason in Washington and all the cities; and therefore in all
the forts, arsenals and navy yards military law prevailed.
Trivial offenses were treated as though they had taken place before
the enemy; the death penalty was meted out, without compunction, for
breaches of discipline which at other times would have only received
the punishment of solitary confinement.
Harry Vernon knew that such law was maintained on a man-of-war, but he
could not understand why it should be applied on land.
He was the more puzzled because Bob was handed over to the civil
authorities, and was placed in the city stocks.
"What shall you do next?" asked Tempest.
The answer was given with such emphasis that Tempest never forgot and
never could forget it.
"Do? Go to Paul Hamilton, and if he does not release Bob then I'll go
to the President. If he refuses, dang me if I don't bring the _Lively
Bee_ up the Potomac and fire its guns until----"
"Hush! that is treason!"
"Call it what you like. If hanging is in order, why, let them hang me;
but I'll make them dance before they get the chance."
Paul Hamilton was in bed.
He thought Vernon and Tempest some drunken roysterers, and took no
notice of their demand to see him.
The woman who answered the door of the secretary's modest house was
alarmed.
Well she might be, for the men both wore swords and looked angry.
"Tell Secretary Hamilton that unless he comes down we will force our
way to his chamber and----"
"Sirs, he will see you, I am sure he will! please let me go and ask him
again."
"Go, my good girl, and hurry, for time is pressing."
The girl had not waited to hear the whole of the speech; she had flown
upstairs, and with sobs and tears had impressed the secretary with the
necessity for prompt action.
Dressed in a very unbecoming _déshabille_, consisting of a long
bathrobe, tied around the waist with a piece of red bellcord, and
old-fashioned nightcap on his head, and a pair of slippers very much
down at the heel, the popular statesman and cabinet minister descended
the stairs.
"Well, sirs, what affair of great moment made you arouse me from my bed
at this unseemly hour?"
Then, as a glimmer of light from the candle fell upon Tempest's face,
the secretary exclaimed:
"You are Lieutenant Tempest, are you not?"
"Yes, sir, and this is Captain Vernon of the _Lively Bee_."
"Ah! the bearer of the news which hath so charmed us. Forgive me for my
_brusquerie_, but why call so late?"
Paul Hamilton was the very pink of gentlemanly courtesy, and after
overcoming his first outburst of anger at being aroused from his warm
bed, he was most cordial.
Tempest explained the object of his visit.
"There must be something wrong," he said; "if the boy, as you say, is
condemned to die, why is he not in the military keeping?"
"That passes comprehension."
"Wait, gentlemen, until I dress, and I will see what can be done."
The secretary was not long in making his appearance, and went at once
with Vernon and Tempest to the White House.
"Only the President can stay an execution," he explained.
It was no pleasanter for a president to be aroused from his slumbers
than for an ordinary private citizen, and James Madison obeyed the
summons with some little reluctance.
An order was signed, granting a stay until further inquiry could be
made.
With this document our friends again went to the lockup, and found Bob
sleeping as peacefully as he could, considering his unpleasant seat.
When told he was not to die quite as soon as he had been led to
anticipate, he evinced so much exuberant joy that his bench fell over,
and he sat down on the floor with a force far from pleasant.
Knowing that Bob was in no further danger of losing his life, our
friends returned to their hotel, but not before learning that it was
the commandant's daughter who had been the cause of Bob's transmission
to the civil authorities.
Miss Jones had thought the civil courts would not allow the military
execution, at least until after Bob had been duly tried.
Her father, wishing to find an excuse for saving the powder-monkey's
life, had acceded to her request, and thus given an opportunity for
Bob's friends to raise a point on constitutional law.
Early next morning our friends, accompanied this time by Bertha
Tempest, paid another visit to Bob.
To their delight he had been released from the stocks, and was walking
up and down the little room.
"Who released me?" he repeated in answer to an inquiry made by his
captain. "Oh, Lor', it was an angel from heaven, no one else could be
so beautiful, saving Miss Bertha--I ask pardon, Mistress Tempest--and
we all know she is an angel."
"I do not understand," interrupted Vernon.
"Lor', sir, she came here an hour ago, and I was still sitting like a
trussed fowl, and she says, 'Let the poor boy walk about a bit;' and
the watchman says, 'To please you, miss, I'd do anything, for your
smile is like a streak of sunshine on a cloudy day,' them's his words,
and they were true, too, and I says, 'My cap'n, miss, is the bravest
man as ever walked a deck, and if you want a good husband, why he is
the man you could love.'"
"For shame, Bob, insulting a lady like that."
"She wasn't insulted, for her face showed she was pleased, it went so
red, and she said as how she loved all brave men, but did not want a
husband."
"Who is she, do you know?" asked Tempest.
"Yes, she gave the watchman her name, quite proud like, she says
to him 'Let the poor boy,' that's me, cap'n, 'out of those stocks,'
that's what they calls them things"--pointing to the instrument of
torture--"and she says, 'if any one wants to know why you did it,
tell them that Miss Pauline Jones asked you.' But, cap'n, there she
is--miss, this is the brave cap'n I told you about."
Captain Vernon turned and saw the blushing face of the commandant's
daughter.
She knew that Bob's silly speech had been repeated to Vernon, and her
face flushed, making her look far more beautiful, if that were possible.
She, however, possessed that easy grace which gave her control over her
feelings, and mutual interest in the powder-monkey made her feel more
at ease in talking with the captain of the _Lively Bee_.
Bertha seemed to cotton to her at once, and before many minutes were
passed the two ladies felt that they would be fast friends for life.
The man who had been assaulted by Bob did not die; in fact, was
scarcely injured, and as the powder-monkey had said, Dolly Madison did
intercede and secured the young rascal's release.
Three days later Vernon, Tempest and Bob bade farewell to Washington
and hastened to rejoin the privateer.
Bertha had made many friends in the Capital City, and though she found
the parting from her husband hard to bear, she knew she would be well
cared for, and that loving friends would try to cheer her in her
solitude.