From Kingdom to Colony

by Mary Devereux

  CHAPTER XXII

  All the outdoor world seemed encased in burnished silver, as the newmoon of early December came up from the black bed of the ocean'sfar-out rim, and mounting high and higher in the pale flush yetlingering from the gorgeous sunset, brought out sparklings from thesnow drifted over the fields and fences of the old town.

  The roads were transformed into pavements of glittering mosaics andpellucid crystals; and all about the Devereux house the meadow landsstretched away like a shining sea whose waves had suddenly congealed,catching and holding jewels in their white depths.

  Dorothy was looking out at the beauty of it all, her face close to thepane her warm breath dimmed now and then, compelling her to raise asmall hand to make it clear again for her vision.

  It was her brother's wedding night. And the girl was very fair andsweet to look upon, in her soft pink gown, with its dainty laces andribbons, as she stood there awaiting the others; for they were all todrive into town, to the house of Mistress Horton, where the marriagewas to be celebrated.

  Nicholson Broughton was away from his home, enforced to tarry nearCambridge, where several of his townsmen were holding weighty conclaveswhich it was important for him to attend. But he had urged JohnDevereux to make no delay in the ceremony, feeling that his daughter,once wedded, and an established member of the family at the Devereuxfarm, would be happier, as well as safer, now that riots in the townwere becoming more frequent and fierce.

  Hugh Knollys also was absent, having undertaken an important mission inthe neighborhood of Boston.

  Only the young man himself knew how eagerly he had desired to be giventhis responsibility, as a reason for being away. For as the time drewnear for his friend's wedding, he feared to trust his self-controlshould he find himself again in Dorothy's presence.

  And then, besides, the hated redcoats were still on the Neck, andseveral of the officers, among them Cornet Southorn, having acceptedmore comfortable quarters at Jameson's house, Hugh thought it the wisercourse to remove himself from the vicinity for a time.

  It seemed as though these two young men were continually meeting oneanother on the roads and byways of the town and its neighborhood. Andthe sight of the stalwart form dashing along upon a spirited horse,--ofthe handsome face and reckless eyes, raised in Hugh a fierce desire tolay them in the dust through the medium of an enforced quarrel.

  Dorothy had been by Hugh's side at several of these encounters; and ithad made him heartsick to see the fluttered way in which her eyes wouldturn from the young Britisher after meeting his ardent gaze, and howfor a time she would be uneasy and abstracted, resisting all attemptsto gain her attention.

  But he bravely held his own counsel, and since that memorable day inOctober had never mentioned the Englishman's name, nor made anyallusion to him or his doings.

  As for Dorothy, she had gone about all these days with a face gravealmost to sadness; and it was well for her own peace that the others ofthe family ascribed her altered mien to jealousy, thinking that herexacting heart found it a hard matter to share her adored brother withanother whom he reckoned more precious than her own spoiled self.

  Her musings were now disturbed by Jack coming into the room.

  He looked the brave soldier in his new regimentals,--a round jacket andbreeches of blue cloth, with trimmings of leather buttons; and his darkhandsome face was aglow with happiness.

  His curling locks were gathered at the back of the neck, and tied witha black watered-silk ribbon; and in his hand was a broad-brimmed hat,caught up on one side, as was the fashion, and adorned with a cockadeof blue ribbons belonging to his sweetheart.

  "Ah, Dot, and so you are here! Leet is at the door, child, and AuntLettice and 'Bitha are with father, in the drawing-room, all ready tostart. Come, get your cloak, and let us be off."

  He was close beside her as she turned from the window; and thinking hesaw the sparkle of tears in her eyes, he laid a detaining hand on herarm.

  "You must be happy to-night, Dot," he said, "for my sake. I shouldlike all the world to be so, and you, my little sister, more than allthe rest."

  She let him kiss her on the cheek, but stood silent, with lowered eyes.

  "What is it, child,--don't you rejoice with me, when I am happier thanever before in my life?"

  He gently took her chin in his hand and raised her downcast face. Inan instant her arms were clasped about his neck and her head buriedagainst his breast.

  Just then they heard Aunt Lettice, in the hall, calling as if shesupposed Dorothy to be above stairs.

  "Come, Dot," urged her brother,--"they are waiting for us, and we mustbe off." And kissing her, he quietly unclasped her clinging arms.

  At this she drew herself away from him, and fixing her eyes searchinglyupon his face, said, "You are so happy, Jack, are n't you, because youand Mary love each other?"

  "Why, surely," he replied, wondering at the words, and at her way ofspeaking them. But he smiled as he looked into her troubled face.

  "Do you not think, Jack," she asked, still with that strange look inher eyes, "that when love comes in, it changes all of one's world?"

  He now laughed outright. But she paid no attention to his gayety,going on in a way to have troubled him had he been less selfishly happyat the moment, "If you know this so well, Jack, you will never cease tolove me, if ever love comes to change my own world, the same as it hasyours? No matter what you may feel is wrong about it, you will notblame me?"

  "Why, Dot, little girl, whatever are you dreaming about,--what shouldmake you talk in this way?" And he looked at her with real anxiety.

  But she only laughed, and passing her hand across her eyes, answerednervously, "I don't know, Jack,--I was but thinking on futurepossibilities."

  "Rather upon the most remote impossibilities," he said laughingly."But come, child, think no more of anything but this,--that 't is hightime for you to put on your cloak and come to see your brother takeunto himself a wife, who is to be your own dear sister."

  "I am glad it is Mary Broughton," Dorothy said quietly, as she took hercloak from a chair.

  "So am I," he laughed, as he wrapped the warm garment about her,shutting away all her pink sweetness with its heavy folds. Then, whilehe helped her to draw the hood over her curly head, "What if it werePolly Chine, now?"

  "Then," she answered with an odd smile, "you would have to fight HughKnollys."

  They were passing through the door, and he said with a keen glance ather, "I've good cause to know better than that, Dot."

  But she gave no heed to this, and they joined the others outside.

  The old family sleigh moved sedately along the hard, snow-packed road,the moon making a shadowy, grotesque mass of it along the high drifts,while Leet, enveloped in furs, sat soberly erect, full of theimportance now attaching to him.

  When they were well on their way, a body of mounted Britishers sweptby, evidently bound for the town; and Joseph Devereux remarked to hisson, as the two sat opposite one another, while Dorothy, ridingbackwards with her brother, seemed lost in the contemplation of thesnowy fields they were passing, "I trust, Jack, those fellows will stirup no trouble this night."

  "They are most likely to do so," was the low-spoken reply; "for youknow the mere sight of their red coats acts upon our men much as thelike color affects an angry bull."

  "I wish they might be ordered from the Neck," observed Aunt Lettice,who sat alongside her brother-in-law, and had caught enough to guess atthe rest of the talk.

  "They must wish so themselves, by this time," Jack said with a laugh."It must now be rarely cold quarters for them over there."

  "Why did you not ask them to your wedding, Cousin Jack?"

  The question came from small 'Bitha, who was sitting between Dorothyand her brother. "I wonder if the one Mary pushed over the rocks lastsummer would not like to see her married?"

  "'Bitha!" Dorothy exclaimed sharply, seeming to awaken to what wasbeing said. "Why will you always put it so? Mary did not push himov
er; he fell himself."

  "Aye,--but, Cousin Dot, he fell over while he was stepping back fromher," the child answered. "She looked so angry that I think he wassorely frightened."

  Dorothy did not reply; but her brother said gayly, "Well, 'Bitha, Ihope Mary will never look at me in a way to frighten me so much asthat."

  "She never would," 'Bitha asserted with confidence, "for you are not aBritisher."

  "What a stanch little rebel it is," Joseph Devereux said laughingly;and Jack went on in a teasing way to 'Bitha, "I expect we shall all goto see 'Bitha married to a redcoat as soon as she is big enough."

  "You will see no such thing, Cousin Jack," the child replied angrily."I'd run away, so that no one could ever find me, before I'd do such athing. Would not you, Cousin Dorothy?"

  Dorothy did not answer, and 'Bitha repeated the question.

  "Would I do what, 'Bitha?" Dorothy now asked, but indifferently, and asthough with the object of quieting the child.

  "Why, marry a redcoat?"

  "Nonsense, 'Bitha,--don't let Jack tease you." And Dorothy turned awayagain to look off over the snow fields through which they were passing.But she wondered if the others noticed how oddly her voice sounded, andwhat a tremble there was in it.

  The Horton house loomed up full of importance from amid its darkerfellows, and warm lights twinkled out here and there where a partedcurtain let them through to shine forth like welcoming smiles into thecold night.

  Within there was much bustle and good-natured badinage, as theneighbors, bidden to the feast, assisted the people of thehouse,--playing the part of entertainer or caterer, hairdresser ormaid, as the needs of the other guests demanded.

  It was a simple, homely wedding, as was the custom of the day; and thefestivities were enjoyed with all the more zest by reason of the reliefthey offered from the anxiety felt by all, on account of the disturbedcondition of public affairs.

  There were games--such as "Twirl the Trencher" and "Hunt theSlipper"--for those who liked them; and the elders endeavored to enterat least into the spirit of all that was going on, and not dampen theyounger folks' pleasure by the exhibition of gloomy faces andconstrained actions.

  Later in the evening there was dancing. And it was a goodly sight tolook at the handsome groom and his lovely bride go through the statelyminuet, with his father and Aunt Lettice opposite them,--the slow,dignified step making the feat a no-wise difficult one for the oldgentleman, who had in his day been accounted one of the most gracefulof dancers.

  Dorothy acted for a time as though she were made of quicksilver. Shewas leader in all the games and frolics, and seemed the veryimpersonation of happy, laughter-loving girlhood. Then, and withoutany apparent reason, another and different mood took possession of her,and she suddenly became very quiet, taking but little part in what wasgoing on.

  Her father's fond eyes were quick to notice this; but when he hastenedto draw her to one side and ask for the cause, she made light of hisanxiety, and gave him a smiling assurance of her perfect well-being.

  As a matter of fact, something had occurred to disturb the girl veryseriously.

  During one of the games she had been alone for a few minutes in a roomfacing upon the side yard,--a small orchard; and chancing to glancetoward the window, she saw, as if pressed against the glass, the faceof Cornet Southorn.

  While she stood, silent and rigid, staring at it, the face disappeared;and some of the other guests now entering the room, she slipped away torecover her composure.

  What, she asked herself, did he seek, and why was he here? Shedismissed at once the thought of his meaning any harm, for surely hewould not bring about any disturbance upon this, her brother's weddingnight. And even should he seek to intrude himself upon them, therecould be no just cause to warrant such an act, for although the Kingmight expect to enforce the Acts of his Parliament, he had not as yetsought to control the marrying or giving in marriage of his Americansubjects.

  But even so, she was startled, almost alarmed; and the matter filledher thoughts for the remainder of the evening.

  It had been arranged that Aunt Lettice and 'Bitha were to remain withthe Hortons for a time, while Joseph Devereux was to accept theinvitation of his friend, Colonel Lee, to pass a few days at thelatter's house, not far away.

  This would make the bride and groom the only ones who would return withLeet to the farm, as Dorothy was going to the home of a girl friend,feeling that it would be a relief to be among new faces and in astrange house.

  "Dorothy, are you going to let me be a good sister to you,--one of thesort you will come to with all your joys and troubles?"

  The two girls were standing close to each other in one of the upperrooms, where Mary was donning a dark gray slip pelisse and hood, withwarm fur linings peeping about the edges, while Mistress Horton wasbustling about out of earshot, getting some last stray articles bundledfor their conveyance to the sleigh waiting below.

  The earnest blue eyes were bent searchingly upon Dorothy's face, as ifthe speaker had more than a passing notion of the impulses stirring theheart lying beneath the laces of the dainty pink gown.

  But Dorothy laughed, albeit a little constrainedly, and replied, "Ithought you knew all about that long ago, Mary."

  "Do you know, Dot,"--and Mary's white brows contracted into a puzzledfrown--"somehow you are changed. What is it, dear?"

  "Your imaginings, I should say," was the careless reply. "My hair isnot turning gray, is it?" And she touched her dark curls.

  "Well, never mind now," said Mary, diplomatically, and not caring topress the matter, "but you will tell me when we are together again,won't you, Dot?"

  Dorothy only smiled, and said nothing.

  Jack had spoken to Mary more than once of some change that had comeover his sister. But his words were not needed, as she herself, nothaving seen much of the girl these last few months, would have observedit had he not spoken.

  Dorothy was as impulsive and affectionate as of old, but to Mary's keeneyes there now seemed a new-born womanliness about her. She wassensible of the absence of that childish frankness and ingenuousnesswhich had been so much a part of the girl's nature. She was now morelike a woman, and one whose mind held a secret she herself tried toevade, as well as have others blind to its existence.

  It was as if a new self had been born, dominating the old self, andsending her thoughts far from where her body might be.

  "She must be in love with some one, and 't is sure to be Hugh Knollys,"said Mary to herself, with a glow of happiness, as the two wentdownstairs, Mistress Horton and a servant following them, both ladenwith packages to be stowed away in the Devereux equipage, whereon Leetsat rigidly upright, the darkness hiding his black face and its unusualgrin.

  "Take good care of her, Strings," Joseph Devereux cautioned, as he tookhis place within the vehicle, and pointing to the open doorway, where apink gown and dark curly head showed foremost amongst the guestscrowded there to see the bride and groom on their way. The pedler--anhumble onlooker at the wedding--had urged his protection for Dorothy'ssafer piloting through the town to her friend's house; and this herfather and brother had been glad to accept.

  "That I will, sir,--never fear," was the hearty response; and as JackDevereux sprang into the sleigh, Leet turned the horses' heads to thestreet and drove off, followed by a shower of old shoes and peals ofmerry laughter from the doorway.