I GATHER THE CLANS.
I was at the Governor's house next day before he had breakfasted. He
greeted me laughingly.
"Has the champion come to cry forfeit?" he asked. "It is a long, sore
road to the hills, Mr. Garvald."
"I've come to make confession," I said, and I plunged into my story of
the work of the last months.
He heard me with lowering brows, "Who the devil made you Governor of
this dominion, sir? You have been levying troops without His Majesty's
permission. Your offence is no less than high treason. I've a pretty
mind to send you to the guard-house."
"I implore you to hear me patiently," I cried. Then I told him what I
had learned in the Carolinas and at the outland farms. "You yourself
told me it was hopeless to look for a guinea from the Council. I was
but carrying out your desires. Can you blame me if I've toiled for the
public weal and neglected my own fortunes?"
He was scarcely appeased. "You're a damnable kind of busybody, sir, the
breed of fellow that plunges states into revolutions. Why, in Heaven's
name, did you not consult me?"
"Because it was wiser not to," I said stoutly. "Half my recruits are
old soldiers of Bacon. If the trouble blows past, they go back to their
steadings and nothing more is heard of it. If trouble comes, who are
such natural defenders of the dominion as the frontier dwellers? All I
have done is to give them the sinews of war. But if Governor Nicholson
had taken up the business, and it were known that he had leaned on old
rebels, what would the Council say? What would have been the view of my
lord Howard and the wiseacres in London?"
He said nothing, but knit his brows. My words were too much in tune
with his declared opinions for him to gainsay them.
"It comes to this, then," he said at length. "You have raised a body of
men who are waiting marching orders. What next, Mr. Garvald?"
"The next thing is to march. After what befell on the Rapidan, we
cannot sit still."
He started. "I have heard nothing of it."
Then I told him the horrid tale. He got to his feet and strode up and
down the room, with his dark face working.
"God's mercy, what a calamity! I knew the folk. They came here with
letters from his Grace of Shrewsbury. Are you certain your news is
true?"
"Alas! there is no doubt. Stafford county is in a ferment, and the next
post from the York will bring you word."
"Then, by God, it is for me to move. No Council or Assembly will dare
gainsay me. I can order a levy by virtue of His Majesty's commission."
"I have come to pray you to hold your hand till I send you better
intelligence," I said.
His brows knit again. "But this is too much. Am I to refrain from doing
my duty till I get your gracious consent, sir?"
"Nay, nay," I cried. "Do not misunderstand me. This thing is far graver
than you think, sir. If you send your levies to the Rapidan, you leave
the Tidewater defenceless, and while you are hunting a Cherokee party
in the north, the enemy will be hammering at your gates."
"What enemy?" he asked.
"I do not know, and that is what I go to find out." Then I told him all
I had gathered about the unknown force in the hills, and the apparent
strategy of a campaign which was beyond an Indian's wits. "There is a
white man at the back of it," I said, "a white man who talks in Bible
words and is mad for devastation."
His face had grown very solemn. He went to a bureau, unlocked it, and
took from a drawer a bit of paper, which he tossed to me.
"I had that a week past to-morrow. My servant got it from an Indian in
the woods."
It was a dirty scrap, folded like a letter, and bearing the
superscription, "_To the man Francis Nicholson, presently Governor in
Virginia_." I opened it and read:--
"_Thou comest to me with a sword and with a spear and with a shield:
but I come to thee in the name of the Lord of Hosts, the God of the
armies of Israel, whom thou hast defied_."
"There," I cried, "there is proof of my fears. What kind of Indian
sends a message like that? Trust me, sir, there is a far more hellish
mischief brewing than any man wots of."
"It looks not unlike it," he said grimly. "Now let's hear what you
propose."
"I can have my men at their posts by the week end. We will string them
out along the frontier, and hold especially the river valleys. If
invasion comes, then at any rate the Tidewater will get early news of
it. Meantime I and my friends, looking for Studd's powder-horn, with a
mind to confirm your birthday gift to Miss Elspeth Blair, will push on
to the hills and learn what is to be learned there."
"You will never come back," he said tartly. "An Indian stake and a
bloody head will be the end of all of you."
"Maybe," I said, "though I have men with me that can play the Indian
game. But if in ten days' time from now you get no word, then you can
fear the worst, and set your militia going. I have a service of posts
which will carry news to you as quick as a carrier pigeon. Whatever we
learn you shall hear of without delay, and you can make your
dispositions accordingly. If the devils find us first, then get in
touch with my men at Frew's homestead on the South Fork River, for that
will be the headquarters of the frontier army."
"Who will be in command there when you are gallivanting in the hills?"
he asked.
"One whose name had better not be spoken. He lies under sentence of
death by Virginian law; but, believe me, he is an honest soul and a
good patriot, and he is the one man born to lead these outland troops."
He smiled, "His Christian name is Richard, maybe? I think I know your
outlaw. But let it pass. I ask no names. In these bad times we cannot
afford to despise any man's aid."
He pulled out a chart of Virginia, and I marked for him our posts, and
indicated the line of my own journey.
"Have you ever been in the wars, Mr. Garvald?" he asked.
I told him no.
"Well, you have a very pretty natural gift for the military art. Your
men will screen the frontier line, and behind that screen I will get
our militia force in order, while meantime you are reconnoitring the
enemy. It's a very fair piece of strategy. But I am mortally certain
you yourself will never come back."
The odd thing was that at that moment I did not fear for myself. I had
lived so long with my scheme that I had come to look upon it almost
like a trading venture, in which one calculates risks and gains on
paper, and thinks no more of it. I had none of the black fright which I
had suffered before my meeting with Grey. Happily, though a young man's
thoughts may be long, his fancy takes short views. I was far more
concerned with what might happen in my absence in the Tidewater than
with our fate in the hills.
"It is a gamble," I said, "but the stakes are noble, and I have a
private pride in its success."
"Also the goad of certain bright eyes," he said, smiling. "Little I
thought, when I made that offer last night, I was setting so desperate
a business in train. There was a good Providence in that. For now we
can give out that you are gone on a madcap ploy, and there will be no
sleepless nights in the Tidewater. I must keep their souls easy, for
once they are scared there will be such a spate of letters to New York
as will weaken the courage of our Northern brethren. For the militia I
will give the excuse of the French menace. The good folk will laugh at
me for it, but they will not take fright. God's truth, but it is a
devilish tangle. I could wish I had your part, sir, and be free to ride
out on a gallant venture. Here I have none of the zest of war, but only
a thousand cares and the carking task of soothing fools."
We spoke of many things, and I gave him a full account of the
composition and strength of our levies. When I left he paid me a
compliment, which, coming from so sardonic a soul, gave me peculiar
comfort.
"I have seen something of men and cities, sir," he said, "and I know
well the foibles and the strength of my countrymen; but I have never
met your equal for cold persistence. You are a trader, and have turned
war into a trading venture. I do believe that when you are at your last
gasp you will be found calmly casting up your accounts with life. And I
think you will find a balance on the right side. God speed you, Mr.
Garvald. I love your sober folly."
* * * * *
I had scarcely left him when I met a servant of the Blairs, who handed
me a letter. 'Twas from Elspeth--the first she had ever written me. I
tore it open, and found a very disquieting epistle. Clearly she had
written it in a white heat of feeling. "_You spoke finely of
reverence_," she wrote, "_and how you had never named my name to a
mortal soul. But to-night you have put me to open shame. You have
offered yourself for a service which I did not seek. What care I for
his Excellency's gifts? Shall it be said that I was the means of
sending a man into deadly danger to secure me a foolish estate? You
have offended me grossly, and I pray you spare me further offence, I
command you to give up this journey. I will not have my name bandied
about in this land as a wanton who sets silly youth by the ears to
gratify her pride. If you desire to retain a shred of my friendship, go
to his Excellency and tell him that by my orders you withdraw from the
wager."_
This letter did not cloud my spirits as it should. For one thing, she
signed it "Elspeth," and for another, I had the conceited notion that
what moved her most was the thought that I was running into danger. I
longed to have speech with her, but I found from the servant that
Doctor Blair had left that morning on a journey of pastoral visitation,
and had taken her with him. The man did not know their destination, but
believed it to be somewhere in the north. The thought vaguely
disquieted me. In these perilous times I wished to think of her as safe
in the coastlands, where a ship would give a sure refuge.
I met Grey that afternoon at the Half-way Tavern. In the last week he
seemed to have aged and grown graver. There was now no hint of the
light arrogance of old. He regarded me curiously, but without
hostility.
"We have been enemies," I said, "and now, though there may be no
friendship, at any rate there is a truce to strife. Last night I begged
of you to come with me on this matter of the Governor's wager, but
'twas not the wager I thought of."
Then I told him the whole tale. "The stake is the safety of this land,
of which you are a notable citizen. I ask you, because I know you are a
brave man. Will you leave your comfort and your games for a season, and
play for higher stakes at a more desperate hazard?"
I told him everything, even down to my talk with the Governor. I did
not lessen the risks and hardships, and I gave him to know that his
companions would be rough folk, whom he may well have despised. He
heard me out with his eyes fixed on the ground. Then suddenly he raised
a shining face.
"You are a generous enemy, Mr. Garvald. I behaved to you like a peevish
child, and you retaliate by offering me the bravest venture that man
ever conceived. I am with you with all my heart. By God, sir, I am sick
of my cushioned life. This is what I have been longing for in my soul
since I was born...."
That night I spent making ready. I took no servant, and in my
saddle-bags was stored the little I needed. Of powder and shot I had
plenty, and my two pistols and my hunting musket. I gave Faulkner
instructions, and wrote a letter to my uncle to be sent if I did not
return. Next morning at daybreak we took the road.