FRIEND OR FOE
Betty Wolcott sat alone in her own room, thinking intently. The windows
were all open, and the soft night air blew the dainty curls off her
white forehead and disclosed the fact of her very recent tears. Never,
in all her short, happy life, had Betty been so moved as now, for the
twin passions of gratitude and loyalty were at war within her, and she
realized, with a feeling akin to dismay, that she must meet the
responsibility alone, that those of her household were all arrayed
against her.
"If my father were but at home," said Betty to herself, "he would know
and understand, but Oliver will not listen, no, not even when I implored
him to keep Captain Yorke close prisoner here for two days by which time
my father is sure to arrive. Aunt Euphemia is too timid and Pamela is
much the same; as Josiah happens to agree perfectly with Oliver, Pamela
could never be induced to see how cruel it is to repay our debt in this
way. Oliver is but a boy,"--and Betty's lips curved in scorn over her
brother's four years' seniority,--"and--and--oh! I am, indeed, astray.
What, here I am, one of the loyal Wolcotts,--a family known all through
the land as true to the cause of Freedom and the Declaration,--and here
I sit planning how to let a British officer, foe to my country, escape
from my father's house. I wonder the walls do not open and fall on me,"
and poor Betty gazed half fearfully overhead, as if she expected the
rafters would descend upon the author of such treasonable sentiments.
"But something must be done," she thought rapidly. "I care not whether
he be friend or foe, I take the consequences; be mine the blame," and
she lifted her pretty head with an air of determination, as a soft knock
fell upon her chamber door; but before she could rise to open it, the
latch was raised and a little figure, all in white, crept inside.
"I can't sleep, Betty," sobbed Moppet, as her sister gathered the child
in her arms; "it's too, too dreadful. Will General Putnam hang my dear,
kind gentleman as the British hanged Captain Nathan Hale, and shall we
never, never see him more?"
"Dear heart," said Betty, smoothing the yellow hair, and tears springing
again to her eyes as she thought of the brave, manly face of her
country's foe. "No, Moppet, Captain Yorke is not a spy, as, alas! was
poor Nathan Hale, but"--
"Betty," whispered Moppet, so low that she was evidently alarmed at her
own daring, "why can't we let him go free and never tell Oliver a word
about it?"
"How did you come to think of that?" said Betty, astonished.
"I am afraid it is the devil prompting me," said Moppet, with a sigh,
partly over her own iniquity, and part in wonderment as to whether that
overworked personage was somewhere soaring in the air near at hand; "but
I always thought the British were big ogres, with fierce eyes and red
whiskers, and I am sure my good, kind gentleman is very like ourselves."
Betty was betrayed into a low laugh. Moppet was always original, but
this was delicious.
"No, child," she said softly, "the British are some bad, some good, and
there are no doubt cruel men to be found in all wars. Moppet, as you
came by the north door, whom did you see on guard in the hall?"
"Josiah Huntington," said Moppet promptly; "but you heard what Oliver
said at supper?"
"Yes," answered Betty, "Oliver was so weary that Josiah was to watch
until twelve o'clock; then, at midnight, Reuben was to guard the hall
until four in the morning, when Oliver would take his place until
breakfast. Did you note the time on the hall clock?"
"It was half past eleven," said Moppet; "the half hour sounded as I
rapped."
Betty sat pondering for a moment, then she slid Moppet gently from her
lap to the floor and rose.
"Moppet," she said gravely, "you are a little maid, but you have a true
heart, and I believe you can keep a secret. I am going to try to release
Captain Yorke, and I think you can help me. I bind you to keep silent,
except to our dear and honored father, and even to him you shall not
speak until I permit you. Promise me, dear heart?"
"I promise," said Moppet solemnly, and Betty knew that, no matter what
happened, she could depend on her devoted little sister.
"Moppet," said Betty, "I have a plan, but 'tis a slender one. Do you
recollect how close the great elm-tree boughs come to your window?"
"I can put out my hand and nearly reach them," said Moppet; "you
remember Reuben cut the bough nearest, but oh, Betty, the tree has a
limb which runs an arm's length only from the north chamber."
"So I thought," answered Betty, who was busily engaged in changing her
light summer gown for one of homespun gray; "and now, Moppet, you and I
must go into your room for the next part of my plot. I must speak to
Captain Yorke, and can you guess how I shall manage to do it?"
Moppet's eyes grew large and round with excitement. "I know," she
whispered breathlessly, "through my doll's dungeon. Oh, Betty, how lucky
'tis that Oliver never once dreamed of that!"
"I doubt if he even knows its existence," said Betty. "There goes the
clock," as the slow, solemn voice of the timepiece sounded out on the
night, "It is twelve o'clock, and Reuben will be coming upstairs from
the kitchen. Hark!"--extinguishing her candle and opening her door
softly. "Josiah has gone to the turn on the stairs, and is speaking to
Reuben; quick, Moppet, if you come still as a mouse they will not see us
before we can gain your door," and with swift, soft steps the two small
figures stole across the hall in the semi-darkness which the night lamp
standing near the great clock but served to make visible, and in another
second, panting and eager, they stood safely within Moppet's chamber,
clinging to each other, as they quickly fastened the latch.
Moppet's chamber was a small one, and occupied the center of the house,
Miss Euphemia's being upon one side, and the north chamber (as one of
the great rooms was called) upon the other. The great chimney of the
mansion ran up between the large and small room, and what Moppet called
her "doll's dungeon" was a hollow place, just high enough for the child
to reach, in the back of the chimney. For some purpose of ventilation
there was an opening from this aperture into the north chamber. It was
covered with a piece of movable iron; and in summer, when no fire was
used in that part of the house, Moppet took great delight in consigning
her contumacious doll (a rag baby of large size and much plainness of
feature) to what she was pleased to call her "dungeon." To-night Betty's
quick wit had divined what an important factor the aperture might prove
to her, and directly she had secured the door, she walked softly toward
the chimney, and felt in the darkness for the movable bit of iron which
filled the back.
When Geoffrey Yorke had finished the ample and delicious supper with
which Miss Euphemia's hospitable and pitying soul had furnished him, he
lighted his candle and made thorough search of his temporary prison to
ascertain whether he could escape therefrom. Betty's gesture of
disapproval when he was about to give his parole had seemed to promise
him assistance; could it be possible that the lovely little rebel's
heart was so moved with pity?"
"Sweet Betty," thought Geoffrey, "was ever maid so grateful for a small
service! I wish with all my soul I might have chance and opportunity to
do her a great one, for never have I seen so bewitching and dainty a
creature," and Geoffrey's heart gave a mad leap as he remembered the
tearful, beseeching glance which Betty had bestowed upon him as Oliver
had conducted him from her presence.
The windows, of which there were two, looking north, received his first
attention, but he found them amply secured; and although a strong arm
might wrench them open, it would be attended by such noise as could not
fail to attract the attention of his guard posted outside the door. This
reflection prompted him to inspect the door; and discovering an inside
bolt as well as the outer one, he drew it, thus assuring his privacy
from intrusion. The large chimney was his next point of investigation;
and although the flue seemed somewhat narrow, Geoffrey decided that it
afforded some slight chance, provided he had the means of descent when
once he reached the roof. Back to the windows again; yes, the great elm
of which Moppet had spoken stood like a tall sentinel guarding the
mansion, and Geoffrey felt confident that he could crawl from roof to
tree and thus reach the ground. To be sure, it was most hazardous; there
was the chance of some one sleeping in the chambers near who might hear
even so slight a noise; he might become wedged in the chimney,
or--pshaw! one must risk life, if need be, for liberty; and here
Geoffrey smiled, as it occurred to him that this was what these very
colonists were engaged in doing, and for a moment the British officer
felt a throb of sympathy hitherto unknown to him. He had landed at New
York but a month before, filled with insular prejudices and contempt for
these country lads and farmers, whom he imagined composed the
Continental army; but the fight at Fairfield, which was carried on by
the Hessians with a brutality that disgusted him, and the encounter with
such a family as this under whose roof he was, began to open his eyes,
and he acknowledged frankly to himself that young Oliver Wolcott was both
a soldier and a gentleman.
"The boy looked every inch a soldier," thought Geoffrey, "when he
refused his sister's pleading; faith, he is made of firm stuff to
withstand her. Oh, Betty, Betty! I wonder if the fortunes of war will
ever let me see your face again," and with a sigh compounded of many
things, Geoffrey picked up a book that was lying on the table, and
resolved to read until it should be far on into the night, when he
would make a bold attempt to escape.
The clock on the stairs struck twelve and Geoffrey, roused from the
light slumber into which he had fallen, heard the steps outside his door
as Josiah Huntington was joined by Reuben, who was to relieve his guard,
and straightened himself, with a long breath, as he rose from his chair.
As he did so, he became conscious of a slight, very slight, noise in the
direction of the chimney; and turning his eyes toward it, a soft whisper
reached his ear.
"Captain Yorke," murmured the sweetest voice in the world; and as the
slight grating noise ceased, to his amazement a little white hand
beckoned him to approach a small aperture, which he now perceived in the
bricks about four feet from the floor. Very softly Geoffrey obeyed the
summons, and cautiously made his way to the chimney.
"Kneel down and put your ear near me," said Betty, and the tall soldier
dropped on one knee obediently; "be very careful, for though Aunt
Euphemia's chamber is on this side, and she is usually a sound sleeper,
it might be our ill fortune that to-night she would wake. I have made up
my mind, sir; I cannot keep you prisoner under a roof that but for you
might be mourning my little sister dead."
"I pray you say no more of that," interrupted Geoffrey softly. "I am
more than repaid by your interest in my unhappy condition."
"It may be wrong, it doubtless is," said Betty, sighing, "but I have two
plans for your escape. Tell me, are your windows securely fastened?"
"Too strongly to be tampered with except by making noise that is certain
to be overheard," returned Geoffrey.
"Then we must try other means; if you can but manage to scale the
chimney,--and I think there are still some pegs inside which Reuben put
there in the spring when he went up after burning it out,--if you can
reach the roof by the chimney you will find on the south side, close to
the chimney itself, a trap-door which lets down by a ladder into our
garret. The ladder is stationary, and I will meet you there at its foot,
and from the garret there is a back stairway, down which you may creep
to the buttery, and once there 'tis but a step outside when I open the
door."
"God bless you," whispered Geoffrey, feeling a mad desire to kiss the
pretty pink ear and soft cheek which he could just see by the dim light
of Miss Moppet's candle; "shall I start at once?"
"No," returned Betty, "Josiah Huntington has just sought his chamber,
and he will be watchful. Wait until you hear the old clock on the
staircase strike three; that is the hour, I have been told, when all
sleep most soundly. Then Moppet will tell you if all goes right, for I
shall be waiting for you, as I said, above;" and with a soft "be very,
very careful to make no noise," Betty moved away from the "doll's
dungeon" and Yorke bounded to his feet.
"Now, Moppet," said Betty softly, "let me wrap you well in your woolen
habit, lest you take cold."
"Oh, Betty darling," whispered the child, "how will you ever gain the
garret stairs when Reuben is watching? He will be sure to think it
strange; can I not go for you?"
"No, never," said Betty tenderly. "I will slip by Reuben, and you must
not fret. Sit here on my knee and go fast asleep until I wake you."
Moppet nestled her little head down obediently on Betty's shoulder; but
try hard though she did to keep her eyes wide open, sleep at last
overcame her,--sleep so profound after all this excitement that Betty
was able to lay her softly upon her bed without awaking, and for the
remainder of those long hours Betty kept her vigil alone. It was nervous
work: for determined though she was to release Yorke, Betty possessed a
most sensitive and tender conscience, and love for her country and her
people was as the air she breathed. It proved the tenacity of her
purpose and the strength of her will that, notwithstanding her many
misgivings, when she heard the clock sound the quarter she rose from her
low seat by the window, where she had been gazing out into the night,
and whispered softly to Moppet that it was time to wake. The child
sprang up, alert and quick as Betty herself, and listened to her
sister's last warning instructions to have no fear, but wait quietly for
her return, and when the clock struck the hour to whisper through the
hole in the chimney to Yorke that she had gone.
Very softly, her slippers held tightly in her hand, Betty pulled up the
latch of the bedroom door and stepped into the almost dark hall. The
night lamp had partly died out, but there was still enough of its
flickering light to permit her, when her eyes grew accustomed to it, to
see the dim outline of Reuben's figure sitting on a stool at the door of
the north chamber. In order to reach the garret from this part of the
house she must go directly down the hall to where it parted at the L,
where the stairs reaching the garret were shut off by a door, on the
other aide of which was a square landing, where you could turn down and
descend directly from the garret to the buttery. Once past Reuben, she
would feel comparatively safe, for although Oliver's room was opposite
he was too weary to be wakeful. It took scarcely a minute to creep
toward Reuben, and Betty drew a quick breath of relief when she
perceived that the farmer-bred lad, unaccustomed to night watches, and
feeling that his prisoner was secure behind the bolted door, had fallen
fast asleep. Another minute and she had fairly flown through the hall
and reached the door of the garret stairs; she recollected that the
latch had a troublesome creak occasionally; indeed, she had noticed it
only that very day, as she and Sally Tracy had mounted to their eyrie
in the big dormer window of the garret, where safe from all ears they
were wont to confide their girlish secrets to each other.
"Pray Heaven it creak not to-night," said Betty to herself as she gently
and steadily pulled the handle of the latch and saw the dreaded door
open to her hand. Inside stepped Betty, and made breathless pause while
she closed it, and the amiable latch fell softly down again into its
place. Swift as a flash the girlish figure flitted up the winding narrow
stairs, and gasping but triumphant Betty seated herself on the lowest
step of the trap-ladder to await the coming of Geoffrey Yorke.
In the bedroom below, Miss Moppet, whose soul was thrilling with mingled
delight and terror at being an actor in a "real story," waited as she
was told until she heard the deep voice of the clock, sounding rather
more awful than usual, say "one, two, three!" and then tiptoeing over
the bare floor she opened with small trembling fingers the tiny aperture
and whispered, "Are you there?" starting back half frightened as the
instant answer came, close beside her:
"Yes, is it time?"
"Betty is in the garret by now," she faltered. "Oh, sir, be careful and
fare you well!"
For answer Geoffrey Yorke bent down, and taking the small cold fingers
extended to him, pressed a kiss on them, and with a soft "farewell"
began his passage up the chimney.
It was no such very difficult task he found, to his satisfaction, for
Betty was right, and by feeling carefully with his hands he perceived
the friendly pegs which Reuben had inserted, and of which Oliver had no
knowledge, else he would not have trusted so agile and strong a prisoner
within their reach. Geoffrey's broad shoulders were the only sufferers,
but the rough homespun which covered them was a better protection than
his uniform would have been, and he again blessed the good fortune which
had thrown the disguise in his way as he left Fairfield four days
before.
Betty, sitting on the ladder step, straining her ears to catch the first
sound, became conscious of a light sound as Geoffrey swung himself from
the chimney top to the roof, and she sped up the ladder to unhook the
door of the trap just as he reached it.
"Speak not a word," she said in his ear, as he set his foot on the
ladder, "but fasten the hook lest they discover that the door has been
opened. Now, give me your hand," and in the darkness the strong, manly
hand closed firmly over her dainty fingers with a clasp which, strangely
enough, inspired her with fresh courage.
"Stop," said Betty suddenly, as they were at the top stair, "you must
remove your boots: the slightest creak might wake the sleepers at the
end of the hall."
It took but a second of time to follow her directions; and then very
softly, with many pauses, the pair crept down the winding stairs, and
Betty involuntarily held her breath until the last step was safely
passed and she raised the latch of the buttery door.
"If Miss Bidwell has locked it," came the swift thought,--but, no! like
everything else that dreadful night, fortune seemed to favor Betty, and
with a long-drawn sigh she drew her companion across the threshold and
instantly shot the bolt behind her.
A faint glow of dawn crept through the pantry windows, and Betty paused
a moment and regarded the rows of milk pans which adorned the shelves
of the small room with grave intentness.
"Had you not better take a glass of milk?" she said. "You may have to
travel far without food, although I am sure that should you ask for it
at any of our Connecticut farmhouses you would be cheerfully supplied,"
and raising the neat dipper she filled it and handed it to Geoffrey, who
took it gratefully from her hand.
"And now put on your boots, for freedom lies beyond that door," she
said, still in softest tones, as she unbolted the other door which led
directly outside. "I must go with you as far as the barn, for you will
need my mare to take you out of danger of pursuit."
"No, no," answered Geoffrey, speaking for the first time as they sped
rapidly over the grass, "I will not take her; you have dared much for
me, and I fear censure and harm may come to you for releasing me should
you be discovered."
"Censure," said Betty, throwing back her small head haughtily,
"wherefore? Do you think I shall conceal my share in this night's work?
Oliver is but a hot-headed boy; had my father been at home it would have
been different, and to him I shall make my confession, that I have
given liberty to--oh, I cannot say a foe, after what you have done for
me--to a British officer who comes to slay my countrymen!"
"Never your foe, Betty," cried Yorke, confronting her with face as pale
as her own, and in his admiration of her spirit and nobility forgetting
all else. "Say, rather, your adoring friend, who one day, God willing,
hopes to prove to you that there are British hearts which are true and
honest as yours, and that none will be more loyal to you than mine own."
A hot wave of color flashed up over Betty's charming face; her lips
trembled, but no words came from them. What was this impetuous young man
daring to say to her?
"The dawn is breaking over yonder hills," Geoffrey rushed on, "and
before the sun rises I must be as many miles away as my feet can carry
me. Farewell, farewell!--may God bless and keep you always. Go back
straightway into the mansion; I shall not stir step until I see you
safe." And through her brimming tears Betty realized that his kisses
were falling on her hands, as without a word she turned and fled toward
the open door. But when she reached it some new-born impulse tearing
madly at her heart made her pause, and looking back she saw Geoffrey
lift something from the grass at his feet which he waved toward her as
he sped down the path, and raising her hand to her gown she knew that he
had carried with him her breast-knot of rose-colored ribbon.