CHAPTER XIII
A WOMAN'S WIT
"Man is not born alone to act, or be The sole asserter of man's liberty; But so God shares the gifts of head and heart, And crowns blest woman with a hero's part."
--_Author Unknown._
"Surely thee is not unpacking, Peggy?" questioned Sally as she enteredtheir little room for the night. Peggy had preceded her by a fewmoments, and was now bending over her portmanteau. "It hardly seemsworth while when we return so soon."
"I am just getting my diary, Sally," answered Peggy, drawing forth thebook after several attempts to locate it. "Methought the time waspropitious to make an entry. And of a verity that encounter with thoserobbers ought to make exciting reading for the Social Select Circle."
"'Twas a wondrous adventure," cried Sally with a shiver of pureenjoyment. "Since none of us received injury 'tis delightsome to haveso stirring a thing to record for the girls. And oh, Peggy! is it notcharming that I am with thee?"
"It is indeed, Sally. Anything is always more enjoyable when theeshares it with me; although I agree with Fairfax in wishing that wewere at home."
"If we start Third-day we should be there soon, Peggy. Were it not forthe danger I should like to stay a little longer."
"And so should I," responded Peggy. "There! that entry is finished,with a half page to spare. Wouldn't thee like to add something,Sally?"
"I'll wait until morning," decided Sally. "Although," she added,"perchance 'twould be best to do it now, as to-morrow will be the daybefore we leave, and consequently we are quite apt to be busy."
But Monday morning brought a clouded and softened sky; a brisk southwind arose, and the rain came driving. By Tuesday the wind hadincreased to a heavy gale, and the rain came with violence from thesouthwest. The snow-drifts that had been so white and fair becameyellow, and smirched, and muddy, and lost their curves and lines. Theroads were troughs of slush and water, impassable for any sort ofvehicle. In spite of this condition of things Fairfax Johnson insistedthat the maidens should be taken to Trenton.
"Why, son, 'twould be monstrous to send them forth in such weather,"remonstrated his mother. "They would get drenched."
"Better that than to stay here," he declared, but his uncleinterposed:
"'Twould never do, nevvy. You couldn't get as far as Freehold with theroads as they are. The rain won't last more than a few days; and if itkeeps us in it works the same with the raiders by keeping them out.They won't venture into Monmouth County until the weather changes.They know too well the danger of the quagmires. We must bide our time,nevvy."
And with this the lad was forced to content himself. For three daysthe rain continued, and with its ceasing every vestige of snow haddisappeared, leaving conditions worse than ever. The roads were verysoft and heavy, and most perilous where they crossed the marshes.Even the youth acknowledged that travel with a wagon was utterly outof the question. But he himself managed to ride into Freehold dailythat he might meet with his company, and begin preparations to takethe field as soon as offensive operations by the raiders were resumed.
So the days went by, but they were pleasant and busy ones for Peggyand Sally. True to their resolve to accept with cheerfulness whateverbefell, their gay spirits softened and enlivened the gloom which mightotherwise have settled upon the family. The mornings were devoted tohousework and cookery; the afternoons to quilting the homespunbed-quilt which Sally had noticed in the frames on the night of theirarrival. In the evenings all gathered about the great fireplace andindulged in such recreations as the farmhouse afforded. The girls hadeach set a pair of stockings upon the needles which they declared werefor Fairfax, and, much to his embarrassment, he was called upon everyevening to note the progress of the work. After the fashion of thetime the name, Fairfax, and the date, 1782, were knit in the threads.
Soon the raw winds of March gave place to softer ones which blewcaressingly from the south, dispelling all fear of frost. The soft wetof the ground disappeared under the balmy sunshine, and the air was afount of freshness. The glad earth reveled under the warmth of thesun, and hill and valley, wood and meadow, blossomed under the touchof spring.
Along the Hudson, Washington gathered his forces for a final campaign,for not yet would England consent to terms of peace, and urged withentreaty upon the states the need of men and supplies. But withresources drained, and rendered apathetic by the long years offighting, the country believed that the crisis had passed, and soresponded slowly to the appeals of their leader. Each state had itsown troubles that demanded attention, and the general welfare was lostsight of in the specific need. In New Jersey particularly, rent as itwas by the internecine warfare, nothing was talked or thought but theputting down of its own individual enemies. As soon as the weatherpermitted the attacks of the loyalists were renewed with increasedvirulence. It was as though these people realized that with thecoming of peace nothing would remain for them but expatriation, and sowere determined to leave behind them naught but desolation.
And to stay this lawlessness the young captain with his company rodehither and thither over the county, pursuing the raiders with so muchzeal and intrepidity that their rancor was aroused toward him. Therecame a day when Fairfax did not return in the evening as was hiscustom. Far away from the south-eastern part of the county had comethe alarm that the refugees, under the leadership of Frank Edwards--anotorious desperado loyalist--had come down from Sandy Hook, and wereapproaching the neighborhood of Cedar Creek. Upon receipt of theintelligence the young captain had immediately set forth to preventtheir marauding progress into the interior. A sharp skirmish tookplace which resulted in victory for the Monmouth defenders, and whenat length they reentered Freehold, they bore with them the notoriousEdwards, a prisoner, together with a majority of his Tory band. ThomasAshley was jubilant when the youth arrived with the news.
"Keep after 'em, nevvy," he cried. "A few more such captures and oldMonmouth may rest secure."
"Report hath it that nothing short of hanging will be given Edwards,"Fairfax told him. "Few of the band will escape a sentence of somesort. Do you not think, Uncle Tom, that a few days could be taken nowto get these maidens home? It preys upon my mind that they are stillhere."
"And upon mine also, son," said his mother gravely. "If these Toriesare as vindictive as I hear they are there will be no safety for anyof us since you have taken one of their leaders."
"She speaks truth, nevvy. These girls have no part in this war.Pennsylvania hath woes of her own to endure. It is not just, orfitting that any of her citizens should be called upon to bear oursalso. They shall go home."
So once again Peggy and Sally gathered their belongings together foran early start to Trenton. All the day before the maidens were in apleasurable state of excitement. Each realized that New Jersey was nolonger a place for them, so they were glad to go; still, there wereregrets at parting from these people who had been so kind, and whomthe vicissitudes of fortune might preclude them from ever seeingagain. Full of this feeling, Peggy found herself the victim of apleasing melancholy the night before they were to leave, and it waslong past midnight ere she was able to sleep. How long she slept shedid not know, but it seemed to her that she had just fallen intoslumber when something caused her to open her eyes. For a few momentsshe lay in that strange debatable region between sleeping and wakingwhen the mind cannot distinguish between the real and the imaginary.All at once she sat up, fully awake, every sense strained and alert.Something was wrong. What was it? She listened intently, but such anintense stillness reigned throughout the house that Sally's softbreathing smote her with a sense of disturbance. Parting the curtainsof the bed she glanced apprehensively about the little chamber. Thewooden shutters were closed, but through their bow-shaped openingscame such a brilliant light that every object in the little room wasplainly visible.
"How brightly the moon shines," was her thought, and completelyreassured she was about to draw the curtains when again there came themysterious sound that had awakened h
er.
It was a crackling, snapping sound such as seasoned wood makes whenthe flame catches it in the open air. Very much alarmed Peggy slippedfrom the bed and ran to one of the windows. Softly she raised thesash, then cautiously swung back one of the shutters. She gave a lowcry at the sight that met her gaze, and leaned far out of the window.The barn was a mass of flames, and there were dark forms flittingabout among the budding trees. The raiders! For a moment she stoodstricken with terror. Then the necessity for action roused her.Fairfax! Thomas Ashley! They must not be caught asleep. What would betheir portion should these men find them? Full of excitement, herheart beating hard and fast, she sped into the adjoining room whereNurse Johnson slept.
"Awake!" she cried shaking her violently, her whisper rendered sharpand penetrating by fear. "The raiders are here. Thy son, Friend Nurse!There is danger. Oh, wake! wake!"
"What is it, Peggy?" Nurse Johnson was roused at last. "Are you ill?"
"The Tories," gasped the maiden. "They are here. The barn is burning."
In an instant Nurse Johnson was out of the bed, and had started forthe door when the calm voice of her son spoke from the entrance:
"I hear. You women get in the middle room, and don't go near a window.Uncle Tom is getting the muskets ready for the assault."
Peggy ran back to close the shutter of the window she had opened, butcould not forego a glance downward as she did so. The men, satisfiedthat nothing would be left of the barn, were now advancing stealthilytoward the house, each bearing a lighted pine-knot. The girl's heartbeat pitifully as she divined their intention, which was obviously toset fire to the dwelling. She closed the shutter tightly, and thenawakened Sally.
"Can't we do something?" whispered Sally, after the women and the twogirls had waited in breathless suspense for a few moments. "Thiswaiting in the dark is terrifying. I shall scream if I can't dosomething."
Before a reply could be made there came a snort of terror from thelean-to, and a shout of triumph broke from the raiders as the snortingdiscovered the whereabouts of the horses. A ripping, tearing soundbetokening that the boards were being torn from the improvised stableto get at the animals followed. A roar of rage burst from FarmerAshley.
"At 'em, nevvy," he cried. "They're after the horses. He who shootsfirst has the advantage of the enemy."
The young captain's reply was a shot from his musket. A howl of angerrose from the attackers as the report of Thomas Ashley's gun followedquickly. The two men then ran to other windows and began firing,endeavoring by quick shifting of position to give the impression thata large force was in the house. There were six muskets altogether, andone was placed by each window.
"This is work for us," said Nurse Johnson calmly, as the women andgirls in answer to Sally's plea came down-stairs. "We can load whileyou two do the shooting. Peggy, do you stay with me while Mary andSally take that side."
There ensued several minutes of brisk work from without as well aswithin, and bullets came spitefully through windows and doors.Presently Mary Ashley spoke shrilly:
"Father, where is the cartridge paper? There are no more cartridgesmade up."
"I don't know, mother," shouted Mr. Ashley successfully dodging abullet that came through a shutter. "Ask nevvy."
But Fairfax turned a look of consternation on his aunt.
"If there are no more cartridges in the pouch we are done for," hesaid. "There's plenty of powder and ball, but I don't know where tolay hand to wadding."
"Any sort of paper will do, Mary," interposed Nurse Johnson. "Get abook."
Paper was a scarce commodity in those times, and few houses,especially country houses, kept it in quantity. Books were rarerstill, so now Mrs. Ashley spoke with the calmness of despair:
"There isn't a book on the place. I let----"
"Wait a minute," cried Peggy. "I have one." She ran up the stairs asshe finished speaking and soon returned, a book in her hand.
"Oh, Peggy," wailed Sally, "'tis thy diary. And how will the girlsever know what hath befallen us without it?"
"They are apt to know naught if we do not use it, Sally," said Peggywith some excitement, proceeding to tear the leaves into squares.Presently she paused, powder-horn in hand. "How much powder do I putin, Friend Nurse?" she asked.
While Nurse Johnson was showing the proper amount the enemy's fireslackened suddenly. Farmer Ashley and Fairfax exchanged apprehensiveglances. Were they weary, or was their stock of cartridges gettinglow? Then the fire ceased altogether, and as the smoke lifted Fairfaxstole a look through the opening in a shutter. He turned a troubledface toward them after a moment's survey.
"There's nothing to be seen," he said. "Surely they have not goneaway?"
At this juncture a call came from outside:
"Tom Ashley!"
"Well? What's wanted?" cried the farmer.
"We want that nephew of yours, and we're going to have him."
"Come and get him, then," growled Thomas Ashley.
"We're going to, Tom. We've burned your barn, and taken your horses.Now unless you let us have that captain we'll burn the house rightover your head. Will you surrender Captain Johnson?"
"No," came from the farmer in a roar. "What manner of man do you thinkI am that I'd let a pack of Tory scoundrels have my nephew?"
"The woods won't be pleasant camping for your women-folks at this timeof the year, Tom," came in threatening accents.
"No," shouted the farmer. "You can't have him."
"Uncle, I'd better go out to them," said Fairfax. "If they willpromise to let the rest of you alone, and not burn the house,I'll----"
"You'll do nothing of the sort, nevvy," spoke Tom Ashley gruffly. "Ifthey spare the house now 'twill be only that they may burn it later.You can't depend upon the word of a Tory. We will stay here as long aswe can, then make a dash for the woods. Thanks to Peggy we have plentyof cartridges now."
"Something is burning," cried Sally suddenly, sniffing the air.
A peculiar odor came through the loopholes of the windows, and thewind whirled a puff of smoke into the room. The faces of the girlsblanched, and they looked at each other fearfully. The entire partyseemed benumbed for the moment, then Fairfax sprang to the door of thelean-to.
"I'm going out to them," he announced determinedly. "You shan't burnhere like rats in a trap."
"Don't go, son," screamed his mother.
And, "Don't go, Friend Fairfax," came from the girls. "'Tis death outthere."
"And death to all within if I stay," he answered, opening the doorresolutely. A burst of flame from the lean-to forced him to recoil,and before he could recover himself his uncle had closed the doorquickly.
"You young idiot," he growled, "stay where you are. 'Twould be auseless sacrifice. You'll do more good by staying here, and helping tocover the retreat of the women should we have to take to the woods."
Fairfax made no answer, but stood in a dejected attitude, his headsunk upon his breast. The stillness without was ominous. Presentlyjets of flame crept across the threshold of the door leading to thelean-to. The farmer uttered an exclamation almost of despair as hereached for the water bucket.
"We are all right as long as the water holds out," he groaned, dashingthe bucket's contents on the blaze. "God help us when 'tis gone."
"Uncle Tom," spoke the youth imploringly, "they only want me. Let meat least make a dash for the woods. There would be a chance of escape,and 'twould draw them away from here."
"Would they really take after Fairfax if they saw him taking to thewoods?" queried Nurse Johnson abruptly.
"Of a truth, Hannah. You see they'd like to get him on account ofcapturing Edwards, but we won't give him up. He's too necessary to thecountry."
"Another place is on fire, friend," screamed Sally at this moment.
Both the youth and his uncle sprang for the blaze, beating the flameswith heavy wet cloths. Under cover of the excitement Nurse Johnsonthrew her son's long cloak around her, caught up his three-corneredhat, and, before they realized what
she was about, had opened the reardoor of the kitchen and darted out.
A shout went up from the raiders, telling that she had been seen. Afew scattering shots followed, then the clarion tones of the leaderrang out:
"Don't shoot, boys. Take him alive. We've got him now."
"Mother!" cried Fairfax, springing toward the door. Tom Ashley caughthim in an iron grip.
"Be quiet, nevvy," he said sternly. "Hannah's got too much wit to betaken, and she hath saved you; and all of us, for that matter. Youare too valuable to the country to be given to such wretches. Eventhough all the rest of us perish, you must live. Now help me put outthis fire. Peggy, do you run up-stairs, and see what's happening."
Up the stairs darted Peggy, with Mrs. Ashley and Sally followingafter. Too eager to be cautious she flung back a shutter, and lookedout. The night was now far spent, and in the dim gray light of earlydawn Nurse Johnson's tall figure was not unlike that of her son. Theintrepid woman had cleared the open spaces of the yard, and was nowunder the great trees of the forest, with the raiders in full pursuit.A few moments, and hunted and hunters were swallowed up by the longdark shadows of the woods.
Peggy Owen and Liberty Page 15
