CHAPTER V.
LOVE'S SWEET DREAM.
It is not truth, but falsehood which requires explanation, and Maria wassensible of this fact as she sat at her tambour frame thinking of Agnesand of Harry and of her uncle Neil. There was something notstraightforward in the life of Agnes, and she resolved every day to makeinquiry into it, and every day she made, instead, some deferring excuse.But one morning, while eating breakfast, they were all sensitive tounusual movements in the city, and the air was tense with human emotion.The Elder and Neil became restless and anticipative, and Maria could notescape the feverish mental contagion. When the men had left the houseshe hurried through her few duties, and then went to her friend. Agneswas standing at the garden gate, watching and listening. "There is newsof some kind, Maria," she said; "I am anxious to know what it is."
"Grandmother says we need not run after news, it will find us out, and Idare say it is only more Connecticut ravaging."
Then Agnes turned into the house with Maria, for she perceived somethingunusual in her voice and manner--dissatisfaction, and perhaps a tone ofinjury. There was no pretence of study about her, she had not evenbrought her books, and Agnes became silent, and lifted her sewing. Atlength Maria spoke:
"What is the matter with you, Agnes?" she asked, and then added: "youare not like yourself this morning."
"Whatever the matter is, Maria, I caught it from you."
"You are cross."
"I was only curious and anxious when you came. You broughtdissatisfaction and annoyance with you. I think you had better tell meat once what has displeased you."
"Oh, you must know what displeases me, Agnes. Do you think I can bear tosee you playing with two lovers at once? I am very fond of my uncleNeil, and he adores you. And when Harry is away, uncle Neil iseverything; but as soon as Harry comes, then Harry is everything. It isnot fair to uncle, and I do not approve of such ways. If I were to actin that kind of fashion between Lord Medway and Quentin Macpherson, whowould be so shocked as Agnes Bradley? I am so disappointed in you,Agnes. I have not been able to come and see you for days; this morning Ifelt that I must speak to you about things."
"Maria, I once asked you to defer judgment on whatever you saw or heardor suspected, and to take my word for it being all right. It seems thatI asked too much."
"But how can it be all right, if you allow two men to make love toyou?--and you seem to like it from both of them."
"I do like it--from both of them. The two loves are different."
"Agnes! Agnes! I am shocked at you!" and Maria hid her face on the sofacushion and began to cry.
Then Agnes knelt at her side, and lifted her face and kissed it, andwhispered four words in her ear; and there was a look of wonder, andMaria asked softly, "Why did you not tell me before?"
"I thought every time you saw him you would surely guess the truth."
"I did not."
"You must have seen also that Harry is deeply in love with you. Now, howcould he be in love with me also?"
"Harry in love with me! O Agnes!"
"You know it. Love cannot be hid. Only lovers look at a woman as I haveseen Harry look at you."
"I do think Harry likes me, and I felt as if--I don't know what I felt,Agnes. I am very unhappy."
"Let me tell you what you felt. You said to yourself: if Harry was notbound to Agnes he would be my lover; and Agnes does not care for him,she does not treat him well, and yet she treats him too well to be doingright to uncle Neil. You would include your uncle, because you wouldfeel it selfish to be wounded and disappointed only on your ownaccount."
"You ought not to speak in that way, Agnes. Suppose I had such feelings,it is not nice of you to put them into words so plain and rude."
"I do not blame you, Maria. Your attitude is natural, and speciallywomanly. It is I who have been wrong. I must now excuse myself to you;once you said you could believe in me without explanations."
"Forgive me, Agnes. I do not want explanations now."
"For I have told you that Harry is my brother, not my lover. That is themain fact, and accounts for all that specially troubles you. Now youmust know the whole truth. Harry was sent to England out of the way ofthe war, for my father lives and moves in his being and welfare. ButHarry wanted to be in the thick of the war; he wanted the post of mostdanger for his country's sake. He said he was ashamed to be in England;that every American who could be in active service ought to be there,because it might be, God intended to use just him. I gave in to all heproposed; I had no heart to resist him. I only stipulated that come whatwould, our father should not know he was in the country."
"Why did you not tell me at first that he was your brother?"
"Harry is handsome, and I was afraid you might be attracted by him; andthe secrecy and romance of the situation and the danger he wasconstantly facing--these are things that capture a woman's imagination.And marriage is such an important affair, I could not think it right torun the risk of engaging you to Harry unknown to your father or friends.I told Harry that you believed him to be my lover, and I was sure thatthis belief would save you from thinking of him in any light but that ofa friend or brother."
"It ought to have done, dear Agnes; it did do--but Harry."
"I know, at Harry's second visit, if not at his first, he was yourlover; and I knew that this explanation must come. Now, I can only begyou to keep the knowledge of Harry Bradley's presence in Americaabsolutely to yourself. I assure you, if father knew he was here and inconstant danger, he would be distracted."
"But does he not suspect? He must wonder that Harry does not write tohim."
"Harry does write. He sends letters to a friend in London, who re-mailsthem to father. About three times a year father gets a London letter,and that satisfies him. And he so little suspects Harry's presence inAmerica that the boy has passed his father on the street without theslightest recognition on father's part; for he has more disguises thanyou could believe possible. I have seen him as a poor country doctor,buying medicines for his settlement; as an old schoolmaster, after a fewbooks and slates at Rivington's; and a week ago, I met him one dayshouting to the horses which were pulling a load of wood up Golden Hill.And he has no more transitions than a score of other young men who servetheir country in this secret and dangerous manner. I can assure youGeneral Washington's agents go in and out of New York constantly, and itis beyond the power of England to prevent them."
"Suppose in some evil hour he should be suspected! Oh, Agnes!"
"There are houses in every street in the city where a window or a dooris always left open. Harry told me he knew of sixteen, and that hecould pass from one to the other in safety."
"Suppose he should be noticed on the river, at your landing or anyother."
"He can swim like a fish and dive like a seal and run like a deer. Theriver banks that look like a tangle to you and me, are clear as ahighway to Harry. And you know it is the East river that is watched; noone thinks much about the water on this side; especially so near thefort. I do not think Harry is in any great danger; and he will be mainlyon the river now for some months."
"I wish I had not said a word, Agnes, I am so sorry! So sorry!"
"We are always sorry when we doubt. I felt that you were mistrusting me,and I promised Harry, on his last visit, to tell you the truth before hecame again. I have been waiting for you all week. I should have told youto-day, even if you had not said a word."
"I shall never forgive myself."
"I was wrong also, Maria. I ought, at the first, to have trusted youfully."
"Or not trusted me at all, Agnes."
"You are right, Maria."
A great chagrin made Maria miserable. A little faith, a little patience,and the information she had demanded in spirit unlovely and unloving,would have come to her by Harry's desire, and with the affectionateconfidence of Agnes. But neither of the girls were fully satisfied orhappy, and the topic was dropped. Both felt that the matter would haveto rest, in order to clear itself, and Agnes was n
ot unconscious ofthose mute powers within, which, if left to themselves, clearnoiselessly away the debris of our disputes and disappointments. Sheproposed a walk in the afternoon; she said she had shopping to do, andif there was any news, they would likely hear it from some one.
There was evidently news, and Agnes at once judged it unfavorable forthe royalists. The military were moving with sullen port; the houseswere generally closed, and the people on the streets not inclined tolinger or to talk. "We had better ask my father," she said, and theyturned aside to Bradley's store to make the inquiry. The saddler wasstanding at the door talking to Lord Medway; and his eyes flashed aninstant's triumphant signal as they caught his daughter's glance ofinquiry. But he kept his stolid air, and when he found Lord Medway andMaria so familiarly pleased to meet each other, he introduced Agnes andgave a ready acquiescence to Lord Medway's proposal to walk with theladies home.
Then, Maria, suddenly brilliant with a sense of her power, asked, "Whatis the matter with the city this afternoon? Every one seems so depressedand ill-humored."
"We have lost Stony Point," answered Medway. "There was a midnightattack by twelve hundred picked men. It was an incomparable deed ofdaring. I would like to have been present. I said to General Clintonwhen I heard the story, 'Such men are born to rule, and coming from thestock they do, you will never subdue them!'"
"Who led the attack?" asked Agnes.
"Anthony Wayne, a brave daring man, they tell me. The Frenchman, DeFleury, was first in, and he hauled down our flags. _Dash it!_ If it hadbeen an American, I would not have cared so much. Now, perhaps, GeneralsClinton and Tryon will understand the kind of men they have to fight.When Americans fight Englishmen, it is Greek meeting Greek. Clintontells me the rebels have taken four thousand pounds' worth of ordnanceand stores and nearly seven hundred prisoners. Oh, you know a deed likethis makes even an enemy proud of the men who could do it!"
"Was it a very difficult deed?" asked Maria.
"I am told that Stony Point is a rock two hundred feet high, surroundedby the Hudson River on three sides, and almost isolated from the land onthe fourth side by a marsh, which at high tide is two feet under water.They reached the fort about midnight, and while one column drew thedefenders to the front by a rapid continuous fire, two other columns,armed only with the bayonet, broke into the fort from opposite points.In five minutes the rebels were rushing through every embrasure, and athousand tongues crying 'Victory'! There is no use belittling such anaffair. It was as brave a thing as ever men did, and I wish I had seenthe doing of it."
In such conversation they passed up Maiden Lane, and by the ruins ofTrinity Church to the river side; all of them influenced by the tensefeeling which found no vocal outlet for its passion. Men and women wouldappear for a moment at a window, and then disappear. They were Americanpatriots on the look-out to spread the good news. A flash from thelifted eyes of Agnes was sufficient. Again they would meet two or threeroyalists talking in a dejected, disparaging way of the victory; or elseblustering in anger over the supineness or inefficiency of theirgenerals.
"I hope General Clinton will now find his soldiers some tougher workthan hay-making," sneered an irate old man who stopped Lord Medway. "Ifhe goes out hay-making, he ought to leave fighting men in the forts. Whythe commander at Stony Point--Colonel Johnson--I know him, had a wineparty, and the officers from Verplanck's Point were drinking with him,when Wayne walked into their midst and made them all prisoners. I amtold the sentinels had been secured, the abatis removed, and the rebelsin the works before our fine soldiers knew an enemy was near. And it wasthat tanner from Pennsylvania--that Dandy Wayne, that stole the march onthem! It makes me ashamed of our English troops, my lord!
"Well, Mr. Smith, General Clinton will be in New York in a few days.There will be many to call him to account, I have no doubt."
In this electric atmosphere heart spoke to heart very readily, for inthe midst of great realities conventionalities are of so littleconsequence, and genuine feeling, of any kind, forgets, or puts aside,flatteries or compliments. So when they reached the Bradley house, Agnesasked Lord Medway if he would enter and rest awhile? And he said hewould, and so sat talking about the war until it was tea-time for thesimple maidens, who ate their dinner at twelve o'clock. Then he sawAgnes bring in the tray, and take out the china, and lay the roundtable with a spotless nicety; and it delighted him to watch the homelyscene. Maria was knitting, and he turned her ball of pink yarn in hishands and watched her face glow and smile and pout and change with everyfresh sentiment. Or, if he lifted his eyes from this picture, he couldlook at Agnes, who had pinned a clean napkin across her breast, and wascutting bread and butter in the wafer slices he approved. He wondered ifshe would ask him to take tea with them; if she did not he was resolvedto ask himself. Then he noticed she had placed three cups on the tray,and he was sure of her hospitality.
It made him very happy, and he never once fell into the affectation oftalk and manner appropriate to a fashionable tea-table. He seemed toenjoy both the rebel sentiments of Agnes, and the royalist temper ofMaria; and he treated both girls with such hearty deference and respectas he did not always show to much more famous dames. And it was whilesitting at this tea-table he gave his heart without reserve to MariaSemple. If he had any doubts or withdrawals, he abandoned them in thathappy hour, and said frankly to himself:
"I will make her my wife. That is my desire and my resolve; and I willnot turn aside from it for anything, nor for any man living; MariaSemple is the woman I love, no one else shall have her."
In following out this resolve he understood the value of Agnes; and hedid all he could to gain her good-will. She was well disposed to giveit; her father's approval bespoke hers. A feeling of good comradeshipand confidence grew rapidly as they ate, and drank their tea, and talkedfreely and without many reservations, for the sake of their politicalfeelings. So much so, that when Lord Medway rose to go, there came toAgnes a sudden fear and chill. She looked at him apprehensively, andwhile he held her hand, she said:
"Lord Medway, Maria and I have been very sincere with you, but I am sureour sincerity cannot wrong us, in your keeping."
This was not very explicit, but he understood her meaning. He laid hishand upon the table at which they had eaten, and said: "It is an altarto faith and friendship. When I am capable of repeating anything said atthe table where I sit as guest, I shall be lost to truth and honor, andbe too vile to remember." He spoke with force, and with a certaineloquence, very different from his usual familiar manner, and both Agnesand Maria showed him in their shining eyes and confiding air how surelythey believed in him.
After this event there was continual excitement in the city, and GeneralClinton returned to it at once. He called in the little army he hadcutting grass for winter fodder, and with twenty thousand troops shuthimself up in New York.
"For once the man has been employing himself well and wiselike," saidMadame Semple. "He has cut all the grass, and cured all the grass roundabout Rye, and White Plains, and New Rochelle, and East Chester, and afew other places; and he has left it all ahint him. What a wiselikewonderfu' man is General Sir Henry Clinton!"
"And the rebels have carried off the last wisp o' hay he made," said theElder angrily. "They were on the vera heels o' our soldiers. It's beyondbelieving! It's just the maist mortifying thing that ever happened us."
Madame looked pityingly at her husband, raised her shoulders toemphasize the look, and then in a thin voice, quavering a little withher weakness and emotion, began to sing to herself from that oldtranslation of the Psalms so dear to every Scottish heart:
"Kings of great armies foiled were And forced to flee away; And women who remained at home Did distribute the prey. God's chariots twenty thousand are, Thousands of angels strong."
"Janet! Janet! Will you sing some kind o' calming verse? The Lord isnaething but a _man of war_ in your thoughts. Do you believe He goesthrough
the earth wi' a bare, lifted sword in His hand?"
"Whiles He does, Alexander. And the light from that lifted swordlightens the earth. I hae tasted o' the goodness of the Lord; I know ofold His tender mercy, and His loving kindness, but in these awfu' days,I am right glad to think o' Him as _The Lord of Hosts!_ He is sure to beon the right side, and He can make of one man a thousand, and of ahandful, a great multitude."
"It's a weary warld."
"But just yet there's nae better one, my dear auld man! So we may aswell tak' cheerfully what good comes to-day, there will be mairto-morrow, or I'm far wrang."
If Janet's "to-morrow" be taken as she meant it to be taken, her settime was long enough for other startling events. Tryon's expedition wasordered back to New York, and Quentin Macpherson brought the news of hisown return. He did not meet with as warm a welcome as he hoped for.Madame was contemptuous and indignant over the ravaging character of theexpedition. The Elder said they had "alienated royalists withoutintimidating rebels"; and Maria looked critically at the young soldier,and thought him less handsome than she had supposed: the expedition, socowardly and cruel, had been demoralizing and had left its mark on theyoung man. He was disappointed, jealous, offended; he had an overweeningopinion of the nobility of his family and not a very modest one as tohis own deserts. He was also tenacious, and the thing he desired grew invalue as it receded from his grasp; so, although angry at Maria, he hadno idea of relinquishing his suit for her hand.
She kept as much as possible out of his company, and this was notdifficult. The troops were constantly on the alert, for one piece of badnews, for the royalists, followed another. A month after the capture ofStony Point, the rebels took Paulus Hook in a midnight attack. This forthad been most tenaciously held by the English from the earliest days ofthe war, it being the only safe landing-place in Jersey for theirforaging parties. It was within sight of New York, and almost withinreach of its guns. The shame and anger of the royalist burghers wasunspeakable; they would have openly insulted the military, if they haddared to do so.
About two weeks later came the news of Sullivan's sweeping victory overthe Six Nations of Indians under Sir John Johnson and the Indian Chief,Brandt. The Americans turned their country into a desert, and drove thewhole people in headlong flight as far as Niagara. This Autumn also wasrendered remarkable by the astonishing success of the Americanprivateers; never had they been at once so troublesome and so fortunate.So that there was plenty for every one to talk about, if there had beenneither lovers nor love-making in the land. But it seemed as if Loveregarded the movement of great armies and the diplomacies of greatnations, as the proper background and vehicles for his expression. WhileMedway was talking, or fishing, or hunting with Clinton, he was thinkingof Maria. While Macpherson was inspecting his company, he was thinkingof Maria. While Harry was traversing the woods and the waters, he wasthinking of Maria. And while Neil Semple was drawing out titles, andmaking arguments in Court, he was always conscious of the fact that hishappiness was bound up in the love of Agnes Bradley. On every side also,other lovers were wooing and wedding. The sound of trumpets did notsadden the music of the marriage feast, nor did the bridal dance tarry amoment for the tramp of marching soldiers. All the chances and changesof war were but ministers of Love, and did his pleasure.
In the meantime John Bradley was stitching his saddles, and praying andworking for Washington, the idol of his hopes, quite unconscious of howcompletely his home had been confiscated to the service of love andlovers. No house in all the restless city seemed less likely to be therendezvous of meeting hearts; and yet quite naturally, and by the forceof the simplest circumstances, it had assumed this character. It beganwith Maria. Her beauty and charm had given her three lovers, who were,all of them, men with sufficient character to find, or to make a way toher presence. But every movement, whether of the body or the soul,takes, by a certain law, the direction in which there is the leastresistance; and the road of least resistance to Maria, was by way ofAgnes Bradley.
At the Semple house, Madame was a barrier Medway could not pass. Shetold Maria plainly, "no English lord should cross her doorstep." Shecould not believe in his good heart, or his good sense, and she askedscornfully, "how a close friend of General Clinton's could be fitcompany for an American girl? He has nae charm for touching pitchwithout being defiled," she said, "and I'll not hae him sitting on mychairs, and putting his feet on my hearth, and fleching and flatteringyou in my house while my name is Janet Semple. And you may tell him Isaid so."
And in order to prevent Madame giving her own message, Maria wascompelled to confess to Lord Medway, her grandmother's antagonism. Hewas politely sorry for her dislike to Englishmen--for he preferred toaccept it as a national, rather than a personal feeling; but it did notinterfere with his intentions. There was Miss Bradley. She had a kindfeeling toward him, and Maria spent a large part of every day with herfriend. By calling on Miss Bradley he could see Miss Semple. As thebest means toward this end he cultivated Agnes through her father. Hetalked with him, listened to his experiences, and gave him subscriptionsfor Wesley Chapel, and for the prisoners he could find means to help. Hemade such a good impression on John Bradley, that he told his daughterhe felt sure the good seed he had sown would bring forth good fruit inits season.
Macpherson had a certain welcome at the Semples, but he could not strainit. Madame was not well, company fatigued her, and, though he did notsuspect this reason, she was feeling bitterly that she must give up herlife-long hospitality--she could not afford to be hospitable any longer.She did not tell Maria this, she said rather, "the laddie wearied hermair than once a week. She wasna strong, and she didna approve o' hisexcuses for General Clinton. I could tear them all to ravlins," shesaid, angrily, "but I wad tear mysel' to pieces doing it. He has thereiving, reiving Highland spirit, and nae wonder! The Macphersons havecarried fire and sword for centuries."
As for Harry Deane, he, of course, could not come at all, though Madamemight have borne him more than once a week, if she had been trusted. ButHarry was as uncertain as the wind. He came when no one looked for him,and when he was expected, he was miles away. So there was no possibleneutral ground for Love but such as Agnes in her good-nature and wisdomwould allow. But Agnes was not difficult. Neil Semple had taught her thesweetness and clemency of love, and she would not deprive Maria ofthose pleasant hours, with which so many days were brightened that wouldotherwise have been dull and monotonous. For, during the summer's heatthe royalist families, who could afford to do so, left the city, and thelittle tea parties at Agnes Bradley's were nearly the only entertainmentat Maria's command.
These were informal and often delightful. Lord Medway knew that aboutfive o'clock Agnes would be setting the tea-tray, and he liked to sitbeside Maria and watch her do it. And sometimes Maria made the tea, andpoured his out, and put in the sugar and cream with such enchantingsmiles and ways that he vowed never tea in this world tasted sorefreshing and delicious. And not infrequently Quentin Macpherson wouldcome clattering in when the meal had begun, take a chair at the roundtable, and drinking his tea a little awkwardly, soothe his self-esteemby an aggressive self-importance. For Lord Medway's nonchalant mannerprovoked him to such personal assertion as always mortified when theoccasion was over. About half-past seven was Neil's hour, and then theconversation became general, and love found all sorts of tenderoccasions; every glance of meeting eyes, and every clasp of meetinghands, bearing the one sweet message, "I love you, dear!"
It was usually in the morning that Harry came springing up the gardenpath. There was neither work nor lessons that day, nor any pretense ofthem. Harry had too much to tell, and both Agnes and Maria hung upon hiswords as if they held the secret of life and happiness. Now, granted twobeautiful girls with a moderate amount of freedom, and four lovers inthat pleasantly painful condition between hope and fear that people inlove make, if it is not made for them, and put all in a position wherethey have the accessories of sunlight and moonlight, a shady garden, anoble river, the scent of f
lowers, the goodness of fine fruit, thepleasures of the tea-table, and if these young people do not advance inthe sweet study their hearts set them, they must be either coldlyindifferent, or stupidly selfish.
This company of lovers was however neither stupid nor selfish. In themidst of war's alarms, while fleets and armies were gathering forbattle, they were attending very faithfully to their own little drama.Quentin Macpherson had one advantage over both his rivals: he went tothe Semple house every Sunday evening, and then he had Maria whollyunder his influence. He walked in the garden with her, she made his teafor him, he sat by her side during the evening exercise, sung the psalmfrom the same Bible, and then, rising with the family, stood, as one ofthem, while the Elder offered his anxious yet trustful prayer. It wasMadame who had thought of connecting this service with the youngsoldier. "It is little good he can get from thae Episcopals," she said,"and it's your duty, Alexander, to gie him a word in season," and thoughMacpherson was mainly occupied in watching Maria, and listening to hervoice, he had been too well grounded in his faith not to be sensible ofthe sacredness of those few minutes, and to be insensibly influenced bytheir spirit.
Neil was never present. When the tea-table was cleared, he went quietlyout, and those who cared to follow him would have been led to the littleWesleyan Chapel on John Street. He always took the same seat in a pewnear the door, and there he worshipped for an hour or two the beautifuldaughter of John Bradley. He was present to watch them enter. Sometimesthe father went to the pulpit, sometimes he went with Agnes to thesinging-pew. And to hear these two translating into triumphant song theholy aspirations and longings of Watts and Wesley, was reason enough forany one who loved music to be in Wesley Chapel when they were singingtogether.
All who have ever loved, all who yet dream of love, can tell the furtherstory of those summer days for themselves. They have only to keep inmind that it had a constant obligato of trumpets and drums and marchingmen, and a constant refrain, made up of all the rumors of war, victory,and defeat; good news and bad news, fear, and hope, and sighing despair.At length the warm weather gave place to the dreamy hours of the Indiansummer. A heavenly veil of silvery haze lay over the river and the city;a veil which seemed to deaden every sound but the shrill chirping of thecrickets; and a certain sense of peace calmed for a short time the mostrestless hearts. The families who had been at various places during thehot months returned to their homes in New York, with fresh dreams ofconquest and pleasure, for as yet the terrors of the coming winter werenot taken into thought or account. The war was always going to be "oververy soon," and General Clinton assured the butterflies of his militarycourt they might eat, drink, and be merry, for he intended at once to"strike such a blow as would put an end to confederated rebellion forever." And they gladly believed him.
In less than a week Maria received half-a-dozen invitations to dinners,dances, card parties, and musical recitations. She began at once to lookover her gowns, and Agnes came every day to the Semple house to assistin remodeling and retrimming them. They were delightful days long to beremembered. Both the Elder and Madame enjoyed them quite as much as thegirls; and even Neil entered into the discussions about colors, and thesuitability of guimpes and fringes, with a smiling gravity that was veryattractive.
"Uncle Neil thinks he is taking depositions and weighing evidence; seehow the claims of pink and amber perplex him!" and then Neil would laugha little, and decide in such haste that he generally contradicted hisfirst opinion.
The Sunday in this happy week was made memorable by the news whichQuentin Macpherson brought. "Some one," he said, "had whispered toGeneral Clinton that it was the intention of Washington to unite withthe French army and besiege New York, and Clinton had immediatelyordered the troops garrisoning Rhode Island to return to the city withall possible speed. And would you believe it, Elder?" said the youngsoldier, "they came so hastily that they left behind them all the woodthey had cut for winter, and all the forage and stores provided for sixthousand men. No sooner were they out of sight than the American armyslipped in and took possession of everything; and now it appears thatit was a false report--the general is furious, and is looking for theauthor of it."
"He needna look very far," answered Semple. "There is a man that dipshis sop in the dish wi' him, and that coils him round his finger wi' amouthful o' words, wha could maist likely give him the whole history o'the matter, for he'll be at the vera beginning o' it."
"Do you mean to say, sir, that our Commander-in-Chief has a traitor forhis friend and confidant and adviser?"
"I mean to say all o' that. But where will you go and not findWashington's emissaries beguiling thae stupid English?"
"You cannot call the English stupid, sir."
"I can and I will. They are sae sure o' their ain power and wisdom thatthey are mair than stupid. They are ridic'lus. It makes them the easytools of every clever American that is willing to take a risk--and theymaist o' them are willing."
"But when the English realize----"
"Aye, _when_ they realize!"
"Well, sir, they came to realization last month splendidly in thatencounter with the privateer, Paul Jones. It was the grandest seafightever made between seadogs of the same breed. Why, the muzzles of theirguns touched each other; the ships were nearly torn to pieces, andthree-fourths of the men killed or wounded. Gentlemen, too, as well asfighters though but lowborn men, for I am told they began the combatwith a courtesy worthy of the days of chivalry. Both captains bowed andremained uncovered until the foremost guns of the English ship bore onthe starboard quarter of the American. Then Captain Paul Jones put onhis hat, as a sign that formalities were over, and the battle began, andraged until the English ship was sinking; then she surrendered."
"Mair's the pity!" said the Elder, "she ought to have gone downfighting."
"She saved the great fleet of merchantmen she was convoying from theBaltic; while she was fighting the American every one of them got safeaway and into port, and the American ship went down two daysafterward--literally died of her wounds and went down to her grave. Andby the bye, Mr. Semple, this Paul Jones is a countryman of ours--aScotchman."
"Aye, is he!--from Kirkcudbright. I was told he had an intention o'sacking Edinburgh. Fair, perfect nonsense!"
"An old friend of the Macphersons--Stuart of Invernalyle--was sought outto defend the town. I had a letter from the family."
"Weel, Stuart could tak' that job easy. The west wind is a vera reliableone in the Firth o' Edinburgh, and it is weel able, and extremelylikely, to defend its ain city. In fact, it did do so, for Paul couldnawin near, and so he went 'north about' and found the Baltic fleet withthe _Serapis_ guarding it. Weel, then, he had his fight, though he lostthe plunder. But it was a ridic'lus thing in any mortal, menacing thecapital o' Scotland wi' three brigs that couldna have sacked a Fifefishing village! And what is mair," added the old man with a tearglistening in his eyes, "he wouldna have hurt Leith or Edinburgh. Nothe! Scots may love America, but they never hate their ain dear Scotland;they wouldna hurt the old land, not even in thought. If put to thequestion, all o' them would say, as David o' Israel and David o'Scotland baith said, 'let my right hand forget its cunning----' you kenthe rest, and if you don't, it will do you good to look up the 137thPsalm."
The stir of admiration concerning these and other events--all favorableto the Americans--irritated General Clinton and made him much lesscourteous in his manner to both friends and foes. And, moreover, it wasnot pleasant for him to know that General Washington was entertainingthe first French Minister to the United States at Newburgh, and thatJohn Jay was then on his way to Madrid to complete with the Spanishgovernment terms of recognition and alliance. So that even through thecalmness of these Indian summer days there were definite echoes ofdefeat and triumph, whether expressed publicly or discussed so privatelythat the bird of the air found no whisper to carry.
One day at the end of October, Agnes did not come until the afternoon,and Maria rightly judged that Harry was in New York. There was
no needto tell her so, the knowledge was an intuition, and when Agnes said toMadame, "she had a friend, and would like Maria to bring the pelerinethey were retrimming to her house, and spend the evening with her," noobjection was made. "I shall miss you baith; so will the Elder," sheanswered, "but I dare say that English lord is feeling I have had mairthan my share o' your company."
"Oh, Madame!" said Agnes, "it is not the English lord, it is a trueAmerican boy from--up the river," and Agnes opened her eyes wide as shelifted them to Madame's, and there was some sort of instantaneous andsatisfactory understanding. Then she added, "Will you ask Mr. NeilSemple to come for Maria about eight o'clock?"
"There will be nae necessity to ask him. His feet o' their ain accordwill find their way to your house, Agnes," said Madame. "Before he hastold himsel' where he is going he will be at your doorstep. He must bevery fond o' his niece Maria--or of somebody else," and the old ladysmiled pleasantly at the blushing girl. Then both girls kissed Madameand stopped at the garden gate to speak to the Elder, and so down theroad together full of happy expectation, divining nothing of _One_ whowent forth with them. How should they? Neither had ever seen the face ofsorrow or broke with her the ashen crust. They were not aware of herpresence and they heard not the stir of her black mantle trailing uponthe dust and the dead leaves as she walked at their side.
"Harry will be here for tea," said Agnes, when they reached the house,and a soft, delightful sense of pleasure to come pervaded the room asthey sat sewing and talking until it was time to set the table. And assoon as Agnes began this duty there was a peculiar whistle, and Mariaglanced at Agnes, threw aside her work, and went down the garden to meether lover. He was tying his boat to the little jetty, and when the dutywas done they sat down on the wooden steps and talked of this, and that,and of everything but love, and yet everything they said was aconfession of their interest in each other. But the truest love hasoften the least to say, and those lovers are to be doubted and pitiedwho must always be seeking assurances, for thus they sow the path oflove with thorns. Far happier are they who leave something unsaid, whodare to enter into that living silence which clasps hearts like a bookof songs unsung. They will sing them all, but not all at once. One byone, as their hour comes, they will learn them together.
That calm, sweet afternoon was provocative of this very mood. Maria andHarry sat watching the river rocking the boat, and listening to thechirruping of the crickets, and both were satisfied with their ownsilence. It was a heavenly hour, hushed and halcyon, full of that lazyhappiness which is the most complete expression of perfect love. WhenAgnes called, they walked hand in hand up the garden, and at thetea-table came back again into the world. Harry had much to tell them,and was full of confidence in the early triumph of the Americans.
"Then I hope we shall have peace, and all be friends again," said Maria.She spoke a little wearily, as if she had no faith in her words, andHarry answered her doubt rather than her hope.
"There will not be much friendship this generation," he said; "thingshave happened between England and America which men will remember untilthey forget themselves."
After tea, Harry said, "Maria is going with me to the river to see ifthe boat is safe," and Agnes, smiling, watched them a little way; thenturned again to her china, and without any conscious application beganto sing softly the aria of an old English anthem by King:
"I went down into the garden of nuts, to see whether the pomegranatesbudded--to see whether the pomegranates--the pomegranates budded,"[1]but suddenly, even as her voice rose and fell sweetly to her thoughts, astrange chill arrested the flow of the melody; and she was angry atherself because she had inadvertently wondered, "if the buds would everopen full and flowerwise?"
[1] "Solomon's Song," 6:11.
In about half an hour Agnes, having finished her house duties, went tothe door opening into the garden and called Harry and Maria. They turnedtoward the house when they heard her voice, and she remained in the opendoor to watch them come through the tall box-shrubs and the many-coloredasters. And as she did so, Quentin Macpherson reached the frontdoor--which also stood open--and perceiving Agnes, he did not knock, butwaited for her to turn inward. Consequently he saw Harry and Maria, anddid not fail to notice the terms of affectionate familiarity betweenthem. The fire of jealousy was kindled in a moment; he strode forward tomeet the company, and was received with the usual friendly welcome; forsuch a situation had often been spoken of as possible, and Agnes was notin the least disconcerted.
"My friend, Mr. Harry Deane, Captain Macpherson," she said, withouthesitation, and the Captain received the introduction with his mostmilitary air. Then Agnes set herself to keep the conversation away fromthe war, but that was an impossible thing; every incident of lifesomehow or other touched it, and before she realized the fact, Harry wasdeprecating Tryon's outrages in Connecticut, and Macpherson defendingthem on the ground that "the towns destroyed had fitted out most of theprivateers which had so seriously interfered with English commerce. Boththe building of the ships and the destruction of the towns for buildingthem are natural incidents of war," he said, and then pointedly,"perhaps you are a native of Connecticut?"
"No," answered Harry, "I am a native of New York."
"Ah! I have not met you before."
"I am a great deal away----" then receiving from Agnes a look of anxiouswarning, he thought it best to take his leave. Agnes rose and went tothe door with him, and Maria wished Captain Macpherson anywhere but inher society; especially as he began to ask her questions she did notwish to answer.
"So Miss Bradley has a lover?" he said, looking pointedly at the coupleas they left the room.
"I used to think so once," answered Maria.
"But not now?"
"But not now. Mr. Deane is an old friend, a playmate even."
"I suppose he is a King's man?"
"Ask him; he is still standing at the gate. I talk to him on muchpleasanter subjects."
"Love, for instance?"
"Perhaps."
"How can you be so cruel, Maria?"
"It is _Miss Semple's_ nature to be cruel."
The reproof snubbed him, and both were silent for some minutes; then thesame kind of desultory fencing was renewed, and Maria felt the time tobe long and the tension unendurable. She could have cried out withanger. Why had not Agnes let her go to the door with Harry? She had hadno opportunity to bid him "good-bye"; and yet, even after Harry hadgone, there Agnes stood at the gate, "watching for Uncle Neil, ofcourse," thought Maria, "and no doubt she has a message for me; shemight come and give it to me--very likely Harry is at the boat waitingfor me--oh, dear! Why does she not come?"
With such thoughts urging her, the very attitude of Agnes was beyondendurance. She stood at the gate as still as if she was a part of it,and at length Maria could bear the delay no longer.
"I wish to speak to Agnes," she said, "will you permit me a moment?"
"Certainly," he answered with an air of offense. "I fear I am in the wayof some one or something."
"Oh, no, no!" cried Maria, decisively. "I only want to make her come in.She says the night air is so unhealthy, and yet there she stands init--bareheaded, too."
"It is an unusually warm evening."
"Yes, but you know there is the malaria. I shall bring her in a moment,you shall see how quickly I am obeyed."
In unison with these words, she rose in a hurry, and as she did so therecame through the open window a little stone wrapped in white paper. Ifshe had not moved, it would have fallen into her lap; as it was, it fellon the floor and almost at the feet of Macpherson. He lifted it, andwent to the candle. It was a message, as he expected, and read thus:
_"Keep that Scot amused for an hour, and meet me at Semple's landing atnine o'clock. Harry."_
"Oh! Oh!" he said with an intense inward passion. "I am to be amused! Iam to be cajoled! deceived! _that Scot_ is to be used for some purpose,and by St. Andrew, I'll wager it is treason. This affair must be lookedinto--quick, too." With this thoug
ht he put the paper in his pocket, andfollowed Maria to the gate where she stood talking with Agnes.
"I will bid you good-night," he said with a purposed air of offense. "Iam sure that I am an intruder on more welcome company."
He would listen to no explanations or requests. Maria became suddenlykind, and assumed the prettiest of her coaxing ways, but he knew she wasonly "amusing" him, and he would not respond to what he considered herbase, alluring treachery.
"There, now, Maria! You have been very foolish," said Agnes. "CaptainMacpherson is angry. You ought to have been particularly kind to himto-night--after Harry."
"You were so selfish, Agnes--so unreasonably selfish! You might have letme go to the gate with Harry. I never had a chance to say 'good-bye' tohim; there you stood, watching for Uncle Neil, and I was on pins andneedles of anxiety. Why didn't you stay with the man, and let me go tothe gate?"
"If you must know why; I had some money to give Harry. Could I do thatbefore Captain Macpherson?"
"I hate the man! I am glad he has gone! I hope he will never comeagain!"
"I do not think he will, Maria."
They went into the house thoroughly vexed with each other, and Mariasaid in a tone of pique or offense, "I wonder what delays my uncle! Iwish he would come!"
In reality Neil was no later than usual, but Maria was quivering withdisappointment and annoyance, and when he did arrive it was not possiblefor any one to escape the influence of an atmosphere charged with themiserable elements of frustrated happiness. Maria was not a girl to beardisagreeable things alone or in silence. She would talk only ofMacpherson and his unwelcome visit; "but he always did come when he wasnot wanted," she said angrily. "Last Sunday when grandmother was sick,and I was writing a long letter to father, and nobody cared to see himat all, enter Captain Macpherson with his satisfied smile, and hisclattering sword, and his provoking air of conferring a favor on us byhis company. I hate the creature! And I think it is a dreadful thing tomake set days for people's visits; we have all got to dislike Sundayafternoons, just for his sake!" and so on, with constant variations.
Fortunately Mr. Bradley came home soon after eight o'clock, and Mariawould not make any further delay. She had many reasons for her hurry,but undoubtedly the chief one, was a feeling that Agnes ought not tohave the pleasure of a conversation between her father and her lover,and probably a walk home with her, and then a walk back with Neil alone.She would go at once, and she would not ask Agnes to go with her. If shewas disappointed, it was only a just retribution for her selfishnessabout Harry. And though she noticed Agnes was depressed and cast down,she was not appeased; "However, I will come in the morning and make allright," she thought; "to-night Agnes may suffer a little. I will come inthe morning and make all right."
Yes, she would come in the morning, but little she dreamed on whaterrand she would come. Still, Maria is not to be blamed over much; thereis some truth in every reproach that is made.
A Song of a Single Note: A Love Story Page 5
