Joscelyn Cheshire: A Story of Revolutionary Days in the Carolinas

by Sara Beaumont Kennedy

  CHAPTER XXI.

  TRAPPED.

  "You trust a woman who puts forth Her blossoms thick as summer's?" --MRS. BROWNING.

  Not a word was spoken as he lifted her to the ground, and when theyturned to walk back to her companions, it was the tall Loyalist who ledher horse. She listened as in a daze to the talk going on around her,answering briefly the questions of the solicitous group. But thepresence behind her was the one she felt, and yet she dared not lookbackward until they were close upon the company at the boulders; then,lest she seem ungrateful, and also with a definite purpose to warn him,she turned to speak to him. He was not among those who followed in therear. She breathed more freely, scarcely able to restrain a cry ofrelief, for surely he had escaped; and presently she said to the tallman:--

  "Methinks I thanked not your companion sufficiently for the service hedid me. Will you bear him a message of gratitude?"

  "I will speak with him as soon as the parade is over."

  It was best to end the matter thus, than to see him again face to face;for she felt she dared not trust her shaken nerves in another interview,lest the warning she wished to convey turn into a betrayal. He must haverealized his danger, and gone at once.

  Her escape was the subject of much rejoicing; even Lord Cornwallis, towhom an account of the accident was carried, sent his aide withcongratulations, and Barry came back at a lope, looking like a ghostwith anxiety. She heard not a half of what was said, her mind was insuch a tumult of perplexity as to her rightful course and of anxiety forher Clevering friends. Naturally her companions attributed her silenceand abstraction to her recent fright, and gave no thought to it. She wasinfinitely relieved when the parade was over, and they were once more onthe homeward road. Her horse had recovered from his panic, and wasmoving along quietly.

  "If he had to run away, why could he not have given me the chance tosave you?" Barry said, with much chagrin, longing to show his devotionand gain some hold upon her thoughts.

  "Perhaps he knew that with you at hand he would have no chance," sheanswered with a forced smile, dragging her mind from the dread thathaunted it.

  It was mid-winter; the remnants of a snowstorm still bleached in thesheltered places among the fields, and whiter yet on the sloping sidesof the mountains behind which the sun had just set, leaving them framedand fringed with yellow fire. The river at their base was hidden in itsbanks and could only be guessed at; but the nestling town had caught areflection of radiance from the sunset banners flying above it, andstood out like some sculptured bas-relief against the downward-droppinghills. Like the fine colours in an opal, the lights came and went,brightened and faded. Joscelyn's pulse had begun to beat normally underthe spell of the ethereal beauty of the scene, when suddenly far up themountain road her keen eyes descried a moving figure. The trees werenude of foliage, and the snow lying along the winding road was as areflector to show up the dark moving object, which for a moment was seenand then lost to sight behind a clump of cedars. Was it a cow, or a manon horseback? A strange curiosity took hold of the girl; she thought shealone saw it, and all sorts of speculations were in her mind when herreverie was rudely broken by the officer on her right.

  "Linsey," he said in a whisper which Joscelyn's straining ears caught,at the same time lifting his finger toward the mountain; "Linsey, an Imistake not, yonder goes our spy; gallop at once to Colonel Tarleton,and bid him warn his scouts."

  The aide touched his cap and was gone ere Joscelyn's startled breathcame back.

  "Why, you are again all of a tremble," Barry said, leaning over totouch her hand, a world of anxiety in his eyes.

  "I--I suppose it was the sound of that other horse's hoofs," she said,angry with herself for her weakness. "You see I am not a soldier andused, like you, to face death every day."

  "Thank Heaven you are not," he answered, holding one rein of her bridlewith the joy of a strong man protecting beautiful womanhood. And thusnear to her he whispered many tender things in her ear,--his tense,young voice vibrant with the awakened passion of his heart; and thegirl's pulses stirred with a strange, sweet quiver.

  So it was they rode home. There in her own room she went over this wholedread matter, with a womanish longing in her heart to talk to someone,--to ask advice; but her mother was too timid, and a glance at AuntClevering's dark house decided her that it would be cruel to arouseanxiety there. Then Barry's manly face and frank eyes came before her,and in a sudden fit of foolish hysteria, she put her face in her handsand cried. If she could only go to Barry! But that would have one of twoeffects,--it would either put him on Richard's trail, or else make himfalse to his cause by winning him to shield the fugitive. She could notrisk either alternative. And what was true of Barry applied with equalforce to Eustace. She would not, if she could, tempt him, through hislove for Betty, to do anything that would dishonour him among hisfellows. And besides, he would not be here to-night with the companyshe had invited, for he had said he was going with the relief guard toone of the outposts. No, there was no one to counsel her; she must thinkand act for herself. At first two torturing questions tore her judgmentin twain. The Spartans gave up their nearest and dearest for the causeof their country, and should she withhold the identity of this man whohad no claim of blood upon her, and who carried perhaps to the king'senemies information that would defeat the cause? Should she say, "I knowhim"; or should she keep her peace and let him go his way? Then sherealized that her knowledge was too meagre to be of any benefit; hisname was all she could surrender, and that were nothing to his pursuers,who knew more than she of his work and movements. And besides, therewere Betty and Aunt Clevering and Richard himself. No, she could notplay the part of the Spartan; she wanted to be of use to her cause, butshe was keeping back no treasonable knowledge. And with this comfortingassurance, she put the matter aside and dressed herself for the evening,lacing the brocade over the brilliant petticoat with a smile to thinkwhat Barry would say. Not for a moment did she believe Richard would becaught; he had the start, and he knew the country much better than hispursuers, and would outstrip them in the race.

  It was a brilliant company that assembled in her drawing-room thatnight,--handsome women and splendid officers, and even Cornwallishimself,--all come to enjoy her hospitality and to inquire concerningher accident of the afternoon.

  "Asked you the name of this brave fellow who saved you?" inquired thecommander-in-chief, with a smile. "Methinks he should be promoted for sosignal a service to his Majesty's loyal subject."

  "Nay, your lordship, I asked it not," Joscelyn answered steadily.

  "'Twas the fright made her seem so ungrateful," put in her mother.

  "And small wonder, Mistress Cheshire, for she was in dire straits. But'tis of no consequence; the name can be easily ascertained, and I shallmyself make the inquiries. Half my staff are mad with jealousy at hisgood fortune, and methinks I myself envy him a bit the sweet thanks hewill receive. Now if Mistress Joscelyn's nerves be not too much shaken,we will have some music."

  So the spinet was opened; and the merriment began and went on far intothe night, while the Cleverings over the way fretted behind their closeddoors in bitter resentment of Joscelyn's conduct.

  "Why, she is actually playing at cards!" cried Betty, who was secretlyon the lookout, for the opposite shutters had not been closed nor thecurtains drawn, so the inmates of the lighted room were in plain view."Lord Cornwallis is her partner, but that Captain Barry sits beside herand whispers behind her cards. Mary Singleton is at the other table, butI do not see--" her voice trailed off into silence, for she nevermentioned Eustace's name to her mother.

  Meanwhile Joscelyn was all unconscious and unmindful of thissurveillance and, recovering from her fright, her spirits rosehourly until she had quite regained her accustomed manner. It was notuntil something after ten o'clock that an interruption befell theirpleasure-taking. Then suddenly there came the sound of galloping hoofsdown the stony street; many voices shouted and responded, a pistol shot
rang out, and from somewhere under the darkness a guttural drum growledout its warning. Every man in the room was on his feet in an instant,and hands snatched for hats and weapons.

  "It is a night surprise!" cried a dozen voices; but even at that momentthe door was thrown open, and an orderly, bowing low, cried out to thegeneral that the noise was being made by his own men, who had turneda spy back from the mountains, and chased him into the town where hewas as a rat in a trap, and must immediately be taken. Every heart inthe room ceased its mad beating with relief at this news--every heartbut one. Joscelyn could feel hers pounding against her ribs, andinvoluntarily she moved to the window and looked at the dark houseopposite, shuddering as she thought of the grief so soon to enter there.

  In ten minutes the hue and cry had swept down the street, and only faintechoes came back upon the wind. The whole town was astir, and Joscelyn'sguests lingered a few minutes on the veranda, questioning those who cameand went.

  "Yes, he went straight down this street, riding like one possessed,"said one man to Barry.

  "He has quit his horse, and the guard have captured it," cried out amessenger a moment later.

  "Ah, well; then will they soon have the man too, even though they searchevery house, barn, and hen-coop in the town; Colonel Tarleton doesnothing by halves," laughed his lordship. "Come, Mistress Cheshire, letus back to our game; ere we end it, the fellow will be in the toils."

  They went slowly back into the house, Joscelyn striving to steady hernerves by long, deep breaths; but as they drew their chairs again aboutthe tables, there came from the story above a crash as of breakingchinaware. Everybody looked up expectant, and Mistress Cheshire rose.

  "I will go," cried Joscelyn, glad to escape, and pushing her mothergently back into her chair. "'Tis no doubt that troublesome cat again;he broke one of my flower jars last week." She tripped upstairs, callingback to his lordship to deal and have the hands ready for she would beabsent only a moment.

  In the upper hall all was silence and semi-darkness. She went first toher own room, pausing just long enough to press her hands hard upon hertemples before passing from it to her mother's, calling the cat thewhile very softly. A fire of logs burned in her mother's fireplace,so that she wondered at the cold breath of air that smote her as sheentered; then she started,--a back window was open and the pot of plantswhich had stood upon the ledge lay shattered on the floor. A swiftannoyance flashed upon her at the maid's neglect, so that she wentforward and closed the sash with a spirited promptness. Picking up a bitof the broken shard, and facing about from the window in search of thecat, she suddenly became aware of a man's figure in the shadowy corneropposite. Instinctively she opened her mouth for a nervous cry, but withan imperative gesture for silence, he stepped forward, and even in thedim light she knew it was Richard Clevering. The scream died upon herlips, and for a moment the objects in the room spun before her.

  "You--_you_?" and even in whispering her voice was strained and shaken.

  "Yes; it was this or death--they had run me to the wall."

  "But the house is full of British soldiers--Lord Cornwallis and hiswhole staff--"

  "So much the better; the place will be above suspicion."

  "Mistress Joscelyn, Mistress Joscelyn!" cried a dozen voices from below,while chairs were being pushed about, and some one struck a few noteson the spinet.

  "And I myself, sir, am a true Loyalist and cannot harbour--"

  There was a footstep on the stair. "Mistress Joscelyn, we be coming upto help you catch the cat!" cried Barry's voice.

  Richard sprang toward her, "My God, Joscelyn! you will not give me uplike that?"

  But the steps were halfway up the stair, and she was already turning theknob of the door, her face like marble in the leaping firelight.

  "'MY GOD, JOSCELYN, YOU WILL NOT GIVE ME UP LIKE THAT!'"]