For Love of Country: A Story of Land and Sea in the Days of the Revolution
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CHAPTER II
_The Country First of All_
"Oh, what is the hour, Mr.--John? Shall I call you Seymour? That isyour second name, is it not? But what would people say? I-- No, no,not again; we really must go in. See! I am not dressed for theevening yet. Supper will be ready. Now, Lieutenant Seymour, you mustlet me go. What will my father think of us? Come, then. Your hand,sir."
The hill from the boat-landing was steep, but Mistress Kate had oftenrun like a young deer to the top of it without appreciating itsdifficulties as she did that evening. On every stepping-stone, eachsteep ascent, she lingered, in spite of her expressed desire for haste,and each time his strong and steady arm was at her service. She tastedto the full and for the first time the sweets of loving dependence.
As for him, an admiral of the fleet after a victory could not have beenprouder and happier. As any other man would have done, he embraced orimproved the opportunity afforded him by their journey up the hill, tourge the old commonplace that he would so assist her up the hill oflife! And so on. The iterations of love never grow stale to a lover,and the saying was not so trite to her that it failed to give her thelittle thrill of loving joy which seemed, for the moment at least, totame her restless spirit, that spirit of subtle yet merry mockery whichcharmed yet drove him mad. She was so unwontedly quiet and subduedthat he stopped at the brow of the hill, and said, half in alarm,"Katharine, why so silent?"
She looked at him gravely; a new light, not of laughter, in her browneyes, saying in answer to his unspoken thought: "I was thinking of whatyou said about your orders. Oh, if they should come to-day, and youshould go away on your ship and be shot at again and perhaps wounded,what should I do?"
"Nonsense, Katharine dear, I am not going to be wounded any more. I've something to live for now, you see," he replied, smiling, takingboth of her hands in his own.
"You always had something to live for, even before--you had me."
"And what was that, pray?"
"Your country."
"Yes," he replied proudly, taking off his laced hat, "and liberty; butyou go together in my heart now, Kate,--you and country."
"Don't say that, John--well, Seymour, then--say 'country and you.' Iwould give you up for that, but only for that."
"You would do well, Katharine; our country first. Since we haveengaged in this war, we must succeed. I fancy that more depends, and Ionly agree with your father there, upon the issue of this war than mendream of, and that the battle of liberty for the future man is beingfought right here and now. Unless our people are willing to sacrificeeverything, we cannot maintain that glorious independence which hasbeen so brilliantly declared." He said this with all the boldness ofthe Declaration itself; but she, being yet a woman, asked himwistfully,--
"Would you give me up, sacrifice me for country, then?"
"Not for the whole wide--" She laid a finger upon his lips.
"Hush, hush! Do not even speak treason to the creed. I am a daughterof Virginia. My father, my brother, my friends, my people, and, yes, Iwill say it, my lover are perilling their lives and have engaged theirhonor in this contest for the independence of these colonies, for thecause of this people, and the safeguarding of their liberties; and if Istood in the pathway of liberty for a single instant, I should despisethe man who would not sweep me aside without a moment's hesitation."She spoke with a pride and spirit which equalled his own, her head highin the air, and her eyes flashing.
She had released her hands and had suited the gesture to the word,throwing out her hand and arm with a movement of splendid freedom anddefiance. She was a woman of many moods and "infinite variety." Eachmoment showed him something new to love. He caught the outstretchedhand,--the loose sleeve had fallen back from the wrist,--he pressed hislips to the white arm, and said with all his soul in his voice,--
"May God prevent me from ever facing the necessity of a choice likethat, Katharine! But indeed it is spirit like yours which makes menbelieve the cause is not wholly desperate. When our women can so speakand feel, we may confidently expect the blessing of God upon ourefforts."
"Father says that it is because General Washington knows the spirit ofthe people, because he feels that even the youths and maidens, thelittle children, cherish this feeling, he takes heart, and is confidentof ultimate success. I heard him say that no king could stand againsta united people."
"Would that you could have been in Paris with your father when hepleaded with King Louis and his ministers for aid and recognition! Wemight have returned with a better answer than paltry money and a fewthousand stand of arms, which are only promised, after all."
"Would that I were a man instead of being a weak, feeble woman!" sheexclaimed vehemently.
"Ah, but I very much prefer you as you are, Katharine, and 't is notlittle that you can do. You can inspire men with your own patriotism,if you will. There, for instance, is your friend Talbot. If you couldpersuade him, with his wealth and position and influence in thiscountry, to join the army in New Jersey--" As she shook her head, hecontinued:
"I am sure if he thought as I do of you, you could persuade him toanything but treachery or dishonor." His calm smile of superiorityvanished in an expression of dismay at her reply,--
"Talbot! Hilary Talbot! Why, John, do you know that he is--well, theysay that he is in love with me. Everybody expects that we shall marrysome day. Do you see? These old estates join, and--"
"Kate, it is n't true, is it? You don't care for him, do you?" heinterrupted in sudden alarm.
"Care for him? Why, of course I care for him. I have known him eversince I was a child; but I don't love him. Besides, he stays at homewhile others are in the field. Silly boy, would I have let you kiss mein the summer-house if it were so? No, sir! We are not such fineladies as your friends in the city of Philadelphia, perhaps, weVirginia country girls upon whom your misses look with scorn, but noman kisses us, and no man kisses me, upon the lips except the oneI--that I must--let me see--is the word 'obey'? Shall you make me obeyyou all the time, John?"
"Pshaw, Katharine, you never obey anybody,--so your father says, atleast,--and if you will only love me, that will be sufficient."
"Love you!"--the night had fallen and no one was near--"love you,John!" She kissed him bravely upon the lips. "Once, that's for me, myown; twice, that's for my country; there is all my heart. Come, sir,we must go in. There are lights in the house."
"Ah, Katharine, and there is light in my heart too."
As they came up the steps of the high pillared porch which completelycovered the face of the building, they were met, at the great doorwhich gave entrance to the spacious hallway extending through thehouse, by a stately and gracious, if somewhat elderly gentleman.
There was a striking similarity, if not in facial appearance, at leastin the erect carriage and free air, between him and the young girl who,disregarding his outstretched hand and totally disorganizing hisceremonious bow, threw her arms about his neck and kissed him withunwonted warmth, much to his dismay and yet not altogether to hisdispleasure. Perhaps he suspected something from the bright and happyfaces of the two young people; but if so, he made no comment, merelytelling them that supper had been waiting this long time, and biddingthem hasten their preparation for the meal.
Katharine, followed by Chloe, her black maid, who had been waiting forher, hastily ran up the stairs to her own apartments, upon this signal,but turned upon the topmost stair and waved a kiss to the two gentlemenwho were watching her,--one with the dim eyes of an old father, theother with the bright eyes of a young lover.
"Colonel Wilton," exclaimed Seymour, impulsively, "I have something tosay to you,--something I must say."
"Not now, my young friend," replied the colonel, genially. "Supperwill be served, nay, is served already, and only awaits you andKatharine; afterward we shall have the whole evening, and you may saywhat you will."
"Oh, but, colonel--"
"Nay, sir, do not lay upon me th
e unpleasant duty of commanding aguest, when it is my privilege as host to entreat. Go, Mr. Seymour,and make you ready. Katharine will return in a moment, and it does notbeseem gentlemen, much less officers, to keep a lady waiting, you know.Philip and Bentley have gone fishing, and I am informed they will notreturn until late. We will not wait for them."
"As you wish, sir, but I must have some private conversation with youas soon as possible."
"After supper, my boy, after supper."