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TWO LESSONS
For two whole days I did not see my cousin Dorothy, she lying abed withhot and aching head, and the blinds drawn to keep out all light. So Ihad time to consider what we had said and done, and to what we stoodcommitted.
Yet, with time heavy on my hands and full leisure to think, I could makenothing of those swift, fevered hours together, nor what had happened tous that the last moments should have found us in each other's arms, hertear-stained eyes closed, her lips crushed to mine. For, within thatsame hour, at table, she told Sir Lupus to my very face that she desiredto wed Sir George as soon as might be, and would be content with nothingsave that Sir Lupus despatch a messenger to the pleasure house, biddingSir George dispose of his affairs so that the marriage fall within thefirst three days of June.
I could not doubt my own ears, yet could scarce credit my shocked sensesto hear her; and I had sat there, now hot with anger, now in coldamazement; not touching food save with an effort that cost me all myself-command.
As for Sir Lupus, his astonishment and delight disgusted me, for he fella-blubbering in his joy, loading his daughter with caresses, breakingout into praises of her, lauding above all her filial gratitude and herconstancy to Sir George, whom he also larded and smeared withcompliments till his eulogium, buttered all too thick for my weakenedstomach, drove me from the table to pace the dark porch and strive toreconcile all these warring memories a-battle in my swimming brain.
What demon possessed her to throw away time, when time was our mostprecious ally, our only hope! With time--if she truly loved me--whatmight not be done? And here, too, was another ally swiftly coming to ouraid on Time's own wings--the war!--whose far breath already fanned theMohawk smoke on the northern hills! And still another friendly allystood to aid us--absence! For, with Sir George away, plunged into newscenes, new hopes, new ambitions, he might well change in hisaffections. An officer, and a successful one, rising higher every day inthe esteem of his countrymen, should find all paths open, all doorsunlocked, and a gracious welcome among those great folk of New Yorkcity, whose princely mode of living might not only be justified, buteven titled under a new regime and a new monarchy.
These were the half-formed, maddened thoughts that went a-racing throughmy mind as I paced the porch that night; and I think they were, perhaps,the most unworthy thoughts that ever tempted me. For I hated Sir Georgeand wished him a quick flight to immortality unless he changed in hisdesire for wedlock with my cousin.
Gnawing my lips in growing rage I saw the messenger for the pleasurehouse mount and gallop out of the stockade, and I wished him evil chanceand a fall to dash his senses out ere he rode up with his cursed messageto Sir George's door.
Passion blinded and deafened me to all whispers of decency; consciencelay stunned within me, and I think I know now what black obsessiondrives men's bodies into murder and their souls to punishments eternal.
Quivering from head to heel, now hot, now cold, and strangling with thefierce desire for her whom I was losing more hopelessly every moment, Istarted aimlessly through the starlight, pacing the stockade like acaged beast, and I thought my swelling heart would choke me if it brokenot to ease my breath.
So this was love! A ghastly thing, God wot, to transform an honest man,changing and twisting right and wrong until the threads of decency andduty hung too hopelessly entangled for him to follow or untwine. Onlyone thing could I see or understand: I desired her whom I loved and wasnow fast losing forever.
Chance and circumstance had enmeshed me; in vain I struggled in the netof fate, bruised, stunned, confused with grief and this new fire ofpassion which had flashed up around me until I had inhaled the flamesand must forever bear their scars within as long as my seared heartcould pulse.
As I stood there under the dim trees, dumb, miserable, straining my earsfor the messenger's return, came my cousin Dorothy in the pale, floweredgown she wore at supper, and ere she perceived me I saw her searchingfor me, treading the new grass without a sound, one hand pressed to herparted lips.
When she saw me she stood still, and her hands fell loosely to her side.
"Cousin," she said, in a faint voice.
And, as I did not answer, she stepped nearer till I could see her blueeyes searching mine.
"What have you done!" I cried, harshly.
"I do not know," she said.
"I know," I retorted, fiercely. "Time was all we had--a few poorhours--a day or two together. And with time there was chance, and withchance, hope. You have killed all three!"
"No; ... there was no chance; there is no longer any time; there neverwas any hope."
"There was hope!" I said, bitterly.
"No, there was none," she murmured.
"Then why did you tell me that you were free till the yoke locked you tohim? Why did you desire to love? Why did you bid me teach you? Why didyou consent to my lips, my arms? Why did you awake me?"
"God knows," she said, faintly.
"Is that your defence?" I asked. "Have you no defence?"
"None.... I had never loved.... I found you kind and I had known no manlike you.... Every moment with you entranced me till, ... I don't knowwhy, ... that sweet madness came upon ... us ... which can never comeagain--which must never come.... Forgive me. I did not understand. Lovewas a word to me."
"Dorothy, Dorothy, what have I done!" I stammered.
"Not you, but I, ... and now it is plain to me why, unwedded, I standyoked together with my honor, and you stand apart, fettered to yours....We have shaken our chains in play, the links still hold firm and bright;but if we break them, then, as they snap, our honor dies forever. Forwhat I have done in idle ignorance forgive me, and leave me to mypenance, ... which must last for all my life, cousin.... And you willforget.... Hush! dearest lad, and let me speak. Well, then I will saythat I pray you may forget! Well, then I will not say that to grieveyou.... I wish you to remember--yet not know the pain that I--"
"Dorothy, Dorothy, do you still love me?"
"Oh, I do love you!... No, no! I ask you to spare me even the touch ofyour hand! I ask it, I beg you to spare me! I implore--Be a shield tome! Aid me, cousin. I ask it for the Ormond honor and for the honor ofthe roof that shelters us both!... Now do you understand?... Oh, Iknew you to be all that I adore and worship!
* * * * *
Our fault was in our ignorance. How could we know of that hidden firewithin us, stirring its chilled embers in all innocence until the flamesflashed out and clothed us both in glory, cousin? Heed me, lest it turnto flames of hell!
* * * * *
And now, dear lad, lest you should deem me mad to cut short the happytime we had to hope for, I must tell you what I have never told before.All that we have in all the world is by charity of Sir George. He stoodin the breach when the Cosby heirs made ready to foreclose on father; heheld off the Van Rensselaers; he threw the sop to Billy Livingston andto that great villain, Klock. To-day, unsecured, his loans to my father,still unpaid, have nigh beggared him. And the little he has he is aboutto risk in this war whose tides are creeping on us through thisvery night.
* * * * *
And when he honored me by asking me in marriage, I, knowing all this,knowing all his goodness and his generosity--though he was not aware Iknew it--I was thankful to say yes--deeming it little enough to pleasehim--and I not knowing what love meant--"
Her soft voice broke; she laid her hands on her eyes, and stood so,speaking blindly. "What can I do, cousin? What can I do? Tell me! I loveyou. Tell me, use me kindly; teach me to do right and keep my honorbright as you could desire it were I to be your wife!"
It was that appeal, I think, that brought me back through the distortedshadows of my passion; through the dark pit of envy, past snares ofjealousy and malice, and the traps and pitfalls dug by Satan, safe tothe trembling rock of honor once again.
Like a blind man healed by miracle, yet still groping in th
e preciouslight that mazed him, so I peering with aching eyes for those threads toguide me in my stunned perplexity. But when at last I felt their touch,I found I held one already--the thread of hope--and whether for good orevil I did not drop it, but gathered all together and wove them to arope to hold by.
"What is it I must swear," I asked, cold to the knees.
"Never again to kiss me."
"Never again."
"Nor to caress me."
"Nor to caress you."
"Nor speak of love."
"Nor speak of love."
"And ... that is all," she faltered.
"No, not all. I swear to love you always, never to forget you, never toprove unworthy in your eyes, never to wed; living, to honor you; dying,with your name upon my lips."
She had stretched out her arms towards me as though warning me to stop;but, as I spoke slowly, weighing each word and its cost, her handstrembled and sought each other so that she stood looking at me, fingersinterlocked and her sweet face as white as death.
And after a long time she came to me, and, raising my hands, kissedthem; and I touched her hair with dumb lips; and she stole away throughthe starlight like a white ghost returning to its tomb.
And long after, long, long after, as I stood there, broke on my wraptears the far stroke of horse's hoofs, nearer, nearer, until the blackbulk of the rider rose up in the night and Sir Lupus came to the porch.
"Eh! What?" he cried. "Sir George away with the Palatine rebels? Where?Gone to Stanwix? Now Heaven have mercy on him for a madman who mixes inthis devil's brew! And he'll drown me with him, too! Dammy, they'll saythat I'm in with him. But I'm not! Curse me if I am. I'mneutral--neither rebel nor Tory--and I'll let 'em know it, too; onlydesiring quiet and peace and a fair word for all. Damnation!"
* * * * *
And so had ended that memorable day and night; and now for two wholewretched days I had not seen Dorothy, nor heard of her save throughRuyven, who brought us news that she lay on her bed in the dark with nodesire for company.
"There is a doctor at Johnstown," he said; "but Dorothy refuses, sayingthat she is only tired and requires peace and rest. I don't like it,Cousin George. Never have I seen her ill, nor has any one. Suppose youlook at her, will you?"
"If she will permit me," I said, slowly. "Ask her, Ruyven."
But he returned, shaking his head, and I sat down once more upon theporch to think of her and of all I loved in her; and how I must striveto fashion my life so that I do naught that might shame me shouldshe know.
Now that it was believed that factional bickering between theinhabitants of Tryon County might lead, in the immediate future, tosomething more serious than town brawls and tavern squabbles; and,more-over, as the Iroquois agitation had already resulted in thewithdrawal to Fort Niagara of the main body of the Mohawk nation--forwhat ominous purpose it might be easy to guess--Sir Lupus forbade thechildren to go a-roaming outside his own boundaries.
Further, he had cautioned his servants and tenants not to rove out ofbounds, to avoid public houses like the "Turtle-dove and Olive," and torefrain from busying themselves about matters in which they hadno concern.
Yet that very day, spite of the patroon's orders, when GeneralSchuyler's militia-call went out, one-half of his tenantry disappearedovernight, abandoning everything save their live-stock and a rough cartheaped with household furniture; journeying with women and children,goods and chattels, towards the nearest block-house or fort, there todeposit all except powder-horn, flint, and rifle, and join the districtregiment now laboring with pick and shovel on the works at Fort Stanwix.
As I sat there on the porch, wretched, restless, debating what course Ishould take in the presence of this growing disorder which, as I havesaid, had already invaded our own tenantry, came Sir Lupus a-waddling,pipe in hand, and Cato bearing his huge chair so he might sit in thesun, which was warm on the porch.
"You've heard what my tenant rascals have done?" he grunted, settling inhis chair and stretching his fat legs.
"Yes, sir," I said.
"What d' ye think of it? Eh? What d' ye think?"
"I think it is very pitiful and sad to see these poor creatures leavingtheir little farms to face the British regulars--and starvation."
"Face the devil!" he snorted. "Nobody forces 'em!"
"The greater honor due them," I retorted.
"Honor! Fol-de-rol! Had it been any other patroon but me, he'd turn hismanor-house into a court-house, arrest 'em, try 'em, and hang a few forluck! In the old days, I'll warrant you, the Cosbys would have stood nosuch nonsense--no, nor the Livingstons, nor the Van Cortlandts. Ahundred lashes here and there, a debtor's jail, a hanging or two, wouldhave made things more cheerful. But I, curse me if I could ever bringmyself to use my simplest prerogatives; I can't whip a man, no! I can'thang a man for anything--even a sheep-thief has his chance with me--likethat great villain, Billy Bones, who turned renegade and joined DannyRedstock and the McCraw."
He snorted in self-contempt and puffed savagely at his clay pipe.
"La patroon? Dammy, I'm an old woman! Get me my knitting! I want myknitting and a sunny spot to mumble my gums and wait for noon and a disho' porridge!... George, my rents are cut in half, and half my farmsleft to the briers and wolves in one day, because his Majesty, GeneralSchuyler, orders his Highness, Colonel Dayton, to call out half themilitia to make a fort for his Eminence, Colonel Gansevoort!"
"At Stanwix?"
"They call it Fort Schuyler now--after his Highness in Albany.
"Sir Lupus," I said, "if it is true that the British mean to invade ushere with Brant's Mohawks, there is but one bulwark between Tryon Countyand the enemy, and that is Fort Stanwix. Why, in Heaven's name, shouldit not be defended? If this British officer and his renegades, regulars,and Indians take Stanwix and fortify Johnstown, the whole country willswarm with savages, outlaws, and a brutal soldiery already hardened andmade callous by a year of frontier warfare!
"Can you not understand this, sir? Do you think it possible for theseblood-drunk ruffians to roam the Mohawk and Sacandaga valleys andrespect you and yours just because you say you are neutral? Turn loose apack of famished panthers in a common pasture and mark your sheep withyour device and see how many are alive at daybreak!"
"Dammy, sir!" cried Sir Lupus, "the enemy are led by British gentlemen."
"Who doubtless will keep their own cuffs clean; it were shame to doubtit! But if the Mohawks march with them there'll be a bloody page inTryon County annals."
"The Mohawks will not join!" he said, violently. "Has not Schuyler helda council-fire and talked with belts to the entire confederacy?"
"The confederacy returned no belts," I said, "and the Mohawks were notpresent."
"Kirkland saw Brant," he persisted, obstinately.
"Yes, and sent a secret report to Albany. If there had been good news inthat report, you Tryon County men had heard it long since, Sir Lupus."
"With whom have you been talking, sir?" he sneered, removing his pipefrom his yellow teeth.
"With one of your tenants yesterday, a certain Christian Schell, latelyreturned with Stoner's scout."
"And what did Stoner's men see in the northwest?" he demanded,contemptuously.
"They saw half a thousand Mohawks with eyes painted in black circles andwhite, Sir Lupus."
"For the planting-dance!" he muttered.
"No, Sir Lupus. The castles are empty, the villages deserted. There isnot one Mohawk left on their ancient lands, there is not one seedplanted, not one foot of soil cultivated, not one apple-bough grafted,not one fish-line set!
"And you tell me the Mohawks are painted for the planting-dance, inblack and white? With every hatchet shining like silver, and everyknife ground to a razor-edge, and every rifle polished, and everyflint new?"
"Who saw such things?" he asked, hoarsely.
"Christian Schell, of Stoner's scout."
"Now God curse them if they lift an arm to harm a Tryon County man!
" heburst out. "I'll not believe it of the British gentlemen who differ withus over taxing tea! No, dammy if I'll credit such a monstrous thing asthis alliance!"
"Yet, a few nights since, sir, you heard Walter Butler and Sir Johnthreaten to use the Mohawks."
"And did not heed them!" he said, angrily. "It is all talk, all threats,and empty warning. I tell you they dare not for their names' sakesemploy the savages against their own kind--against friends who think notas they think--against old neighbors, ay, their own kin!
"Nor dare we. Look at Schuyler--a gentleman, if ever there was one onthis rotten earth--standing, belts in hand, before the sachems of theconfederacy, not soliciting Cayuga support, not begging Seneca aid, notproposing a foul alliance with the Onondagas; but demanding rightmanfully that the confederacy remain neutral; nay, more, he repulsedoffers of warriors from the Oneidas to scout for him, knowing what thatsweet word 'scout' implied--God bless him I ... I have no love forSchuyler.... He lately called me 'malt-worm,' and, if I'm not at fault,he added, 'skin-flint Dutchman,' or some such tribute to my thrift. Buthe has conducted like a man of honor in this Iroquois matter, and I carenot who hears me say it!"
He settled himself in his chair, mumbling in a rumbling voice, and all Icould make out was here and there a curse or two distributed impartially'twixt Tory and rebel and other asses now untethered in the world.
"Well, sir," I said, "from all I can gather, Burgoyne is marchingsouthward through the lakes, and Clinton is gathering an army in NewYork to march north and meet Burgoyne, and now comes this Barry St.Leger on the flank, aiming to join the others at Albany after takingStanwix and Johnstown on the march--three spears to pierce a commoncentre, three torches to fire three valleys, and you neutral Tryon menin the centre, calm, undismayed, smoking your pipes and singing songs ofpeace and good-will for all on earth."
"And why not, sir!" he snapped.
"Did you ever hear of Juggernaut?"
"I've heard the name--a Frenchman, was he not? I think he burnedSchenectady."
"No, sir; he is a heathen god."
"And what the devil, sir, has Tryon County to do with heathen gods!" hebawled.
"You shall see--when the wheels pass," I said, gloomily.
He folded his fat hands over his stomach and smoked in obstinatesilence. I, too, was silent; again a faint disgust for this man seizedme. How noble and unselfish now appeared the conduct of those poortenants of his who had abandoned their little farms to answer Schuyler'scall!--trudging northward with wives and babes, trusting to God forbread to fall like manna in this wilderness to save the frail lives oftheir loved ones, while they faced the trained troops of Great Britain,and perhaps the Iroquois.
And here he sat, the patroon, sucking his pipe, nursing his stomach; toocautious, too thrifty to stand like a man, even for the honor of his ownroof-tree! Lord! how mean, how sordid did he look to me, sulking there,his mottled double-chin crowded out upon his stock, his bow-legs wide tocradle the huge belly, his small eyes obstinately a-squint and partlyshut, which lent a gross shrewdness to the expanse of fat, almostbaleful, like the eye of a squid in its shapeless, jellied body!
"What are your plans?" he said, abruptly.
I told him that, through Sir George, I had placed my poor services atthe State's disposal.
"You mean the rebel State's disposal?"
"Yes, sir."
"Then you are ready to enlist?"
"Quite ready, Sir Lupus."
"Only awaiting summons from Clinton and Schuyler?" he sneered.
"That is all, sir."
"And what about your properties in Florida?"
"I can do nothing there. If they confiscate them in my absence, theymight do worse were I to go back and defy them. I believe my life isworth something to our cause, and it would be only to waste it foolishlyif I returned to fight for a few indigo-vats and canefields."
"While you can remain here and fight for other people's hen-coops, eh?"
"No, sir; only to take up the common quarrel and stand for that libertywhich we inherited from those who now seek to dispossess us."
"Quite an orator!" he observed, grimly. "The Ormonds were formerly moreready with their swords than with their tongues."
"I trust I shall not fail to sustain their traditions," I said,controlling my anger with a desperate effort.
He burst out into a hollow laugh.
"There you go, red as a turkey-cock and madder than a singed tree-cat!George, can't you let me plague you in comfort! Dammy, it's undutiful!For pity's sake! let me sneer--let me gibe and jeer if it eases me."
I glared at him, half inclined to laugh.
"Curse it!" he said, wrathfully, "I'm serious. You don't know howserious I am. It's no laughing matter, George. I must do something toease me!" He burst out into a roar, swearing in volleys.
"D' ye think I wish to appear contemptible?" he shouted. "D' ye think Ilike to sit here like an old wife, scolding in one breath and preachingthrift in the next? A weak-kneed, chicken-livered, white-bellied oldbullfrog that squeaks and jumps, plunk! into the puddle when a footstepfalls in the grass! Am I not a patroon? Am I not Dutch? Granted I'm fatand slow and a glutton, and lazy as a wolverine. I can fight like one,too! Don't make any mistake there, George!"
His broad face flushed crimson, his little, green eyes snapped fire.
"D' ye think I don't love a fight as well as my neighbor? D' ye thinkI've a stomach for insults and flouts and winks and nudges? Have I aliver to sit doing sums on my thumbs when these impudent British arekicking my people out of their own doors? Am I of a kidney to smile andbow, and swallow and digest the orders of Tory swashbucklers, who laydown a rule of conduct for men who should be framing rules of commondecency for them? D' ye think I'm a snail or a potato or an empty pairo' breeches? Damnation!"
Rage convulsed him. He recovered his self-command slowly, smashing hispipe in the interval; and I, astonished beyond measure, waited for theexplanation which he appeared to be disposed to give.
"If I'm what I am," he said, hoarsely, "an old jack-ass he-hawing'Peace! peace! thrift! thrift!' it is because I must and not because themusic pleases me.... And I had not meant to tell you why--for none othersuspects it--but my personal honor is at stake. I am in debt to afriend, George, and unless I am left in peace here to collect my tithesand till my fields and run my mills and ship my pearl-ashes, I can neverhope to pay a debt of honor incurred--and which I mean to pay, if Ilive, so help me God!
"Lad, if this house, these farms, these acres were my own, do you thinkI'd hesitate to polish up that old sword yonder that my father carriedwhen Schenectady went up in flames?... Know me better, George!... Knowthat this condemnation to inaction is the bitterest trial I have everknown. How easy it would be for me to throw my own property into onebalance, my sword into the other, and say, 'Defend the one with theother or be robbed!' But I can't throw another man's lands into thebalance. I can't raise the war-yelp and go careering about after glorywhen I owe every shilling I possess and thousands more to an honorableand generous gentleman who refused all security for the loan save my ownword of honor.
"And now, simple, brave, high-minded as he is, he offers to return me myword of honor, free me from his debt, and leave me unshackled to conductin this coming war as I see fit.
"But that is more than he can do, George. My word once pledged can onlybe redeemed by what it stood for, and he is powerless to give it back.
"That is all, sir.... Pray think more kindly of an old fool in future,when you plume yourself upon your liberty to draw sword in the most justcause this world has ever known."
"It is I who am the fool, Sir Lupus," I said, in a low voice.
The Maid-At-Arms: A Novel Page 12
