CHAPTER XXII.
"SEARCH MY LADY'S WARDROBE."
"Sweetheart? not she whose voice was music-sweet, Whose face loaned language to melodious prayer; Sweetheart I called her.--When did she repeat Sweet to one hope or heart to one despair?" --CAWEIN.
To the man crouching behind the door which Joscelyn had left open, theminute it took her to traverse the hall and gain the head of the stairsat the far end, seemed a lifetime. Even in his dire peril the thought ofa bygone day came back to him--"loyal, though a Loyalist," he had saidof her, and had believed it. What a sweetheart to have coddled in one'sthoughts and dreamed of, waking and sleeping,--this girl who would incold blood hand him over to death because of a fancied duty! Escape bythe way he came was impossible; he could only wait here and sell hislife at the highest price. Ay, there should be left in this room amemory that would exile her from it forever; the blood that had beat forher and which she had betrayed, should redden her floor and stain thedainty things she loved.
His sword had been thrown away when he quitted his horse, since itcumbered his flight; but his pistols and dirk were still upon him, andhe made ready for their use. Then through the crevice of the hinge, hebeheld Joscelyn as she faced about in the brighter light at the head ofthe stairs, and the weapon well-nigh slipped from his hand as he saw herhold up the bit of shard she still carried, and say, with a smile, tothose below:--
"'Tis not worth while your coming. What need to waste time on thesenseless offender when the offence is beyond repair? My very lastflowering almond is a hopeless wreck, and I had nursed it with suchcare!" She ended with a sigh and a pretty pout, and went slowly down thestair out of Richard's sight; but the voices from below reached himdistinctly, so that he heard the officers' condolences and her laughingreplies. Great drops of perspiration broke out upon his brow as thejoyous truth dawned fully upon him.
She did not intend to betray his presence in the house to thescarlet-coated bloodhounds who would tear him limb from limb!
How could he ever have mistrusted her, this one woman whom he had lovedwith the passion of youth and of manhood? He sank to a sitting postureupon the floor, propping himself against the wall, for he wasdesperately weary with the long, hard chase, and this relief was as theopening of Paradise before his aching eyes. His limbs relaxed; but hisears were strained to catch every sound that came up the stairway. Thegame of cards had been renewed, and the merriment was at its height,when twenty minutes later there was again a commotion in the street anda loud summons at the door.
"May it please your lordship," said Tarleton's voice, "the fellow hathgive us the slip and is in hiding with some of his sympathizers. We wisha permit to search the houses in this neighbourhood, for hereabouts hemust be, since he was seen last at yonder corner."
There arose a perfect Babel of voices, out of which Richard could makenothing clearly; but he knew the permit was given, for in a few minutesTarleton opened the street-door, and ordered his men to begin the searchat the house on the lower corner, and proceed thence up the street,missing no dwelling. Every other street and alley in the town had beensentinelled, so he assured Cornwallis.
The soldiers at the door dispersed, and a breathless silence filled thehouse. Richard dared not move lest his stiff joints pop, or his bootscreak and betray him. He knew flight was impossible; for there was astamping of horses in the rear court, proving that the house wassurrounded. It were wiser to wait and face the fate that came to him,than go out to meet it on the way.
The minutes that followed seemed interminable. He felt that his doom wassealed, and then there came upon him an overmastering desire to hearJoscelyn's voice once more. Why did she not come to him on some feignedpretext or other? Surely she must know how he suffered! Death were notso hard to meet, if he could but first hold her in his arms and hear hersay some tender word.
Then the noise in the street grew louder, and he knew that the searchwas drawing near. His nerves were strained to tautness, when presentlyhe heard the party stop in the street below, and a voice downstairscried out gayly:--
"They be going to call upon your kinsfolk, the Cleverings, MistressJoscelyn. Let us out to the balcony and see the fun."
In the confusion of scraping chairs and opening doors, Richard got tohis feet. The cold and weariness in his limbs were forgotten in anxietyfor his mother. A-tiptoe he crossed the room in the shadow of thefurniture and gained Joscelyn's front window,--that window out of whichhe had seen her lean in her scarlet bodice the day he marched away solong ago. It was an easy thing to hide himself in the folds of the heavycurtains which had been drawn for the night; and thus concealed, towatch, through a crescent slit in the blind, the scene below, for theveranda was open with no roof to intervene.
It was full moon, and the figures in the street, twenty men-at-arms,were plainly visible. Three of these passed silently to the rear of hismother's house, while the others drew up in line before the door. Thenthe leader smote the panels until they rang like a drum. Twice was thesummons repeated ere a voice from an upper window demanded what mightbe the matter.
"Matter enough that I knock," replied the man, so insolently thatRichard's blood took fire, for every word could be distinctly heard fromhis coign of vantage.
"Nay, we be but two lone women in this house, and we open not but to theproper authorities."
"Well, and we be the authorities," answered the man less rudely, forthere was that in Mistress Clevering's voice that brought him to hissenses. "We have here an order from the commander-in-chief to searchthis house for a rebel spy. Open the door and read the writ foryourself."
The window above was closed, and presently the click of the lock washeard, and then the door opened partially and Mistress Clevering, candlein hand, stood before them. Betty cowered behind like a frightenedchild.
"No one is here save my daughter and myself; to search the house werewasted time." And in her heart, Joscelyn thanked Heaven she could speakthus truly; but the soldier said brusquely:--
"We have judged the matter differently; lead the way, and see to it thatyou open every door. We will put up with no deception."
As they passed into the house, Joscelyn's voice from over the way criedout shrilly, "Neglect not to search the closet by the attic chimney;'tis just of a size to hold a man, and perchance contains him whom youseek."
Mistress Clevering turned angrily toward the door as though she wouldanswer, but the soldiers urged her on, and so it was Betty who calledback:--
"That is neighbourly! Tell all you know about your best friends,Mistress Ingrate; we have naught to fear."
At this Joscelyn laughed loudly, but to Richard the laugh was morehysterical than mirthful, like one under a great nervous strain. He felthis hands involuntarily groping for his pistols, as the opposite lightflashed from window to window and he knew his mother was being orderedabout by those insolent Redcoats. The candle lingered longest in theattic; but at last it descended, and soon the disappointed soldiersstood in the street empty handed. Tarleton was furious and swore a greatoath, but the soldiers protested they had overlooked no nook or cornerwhere a man might conceal himself.
"'Tis a bootless errand, sir; unless, indeed, the man be in this house,"said Tarleton, riding up to Joscelyn's door. "What say you, shall wesearch here also?"
Upstairs Richard's heart stood still, while down below Joscelyn's headswam. Then her laugh rippled out mockingly.
"Truly, your lordship, that is a reflection upon you and those of yourgallant officers who have done me the honour to spend the evening undermy roof! I pray you, gentlemen all, turn your pockets wrong side outthat Colonel Tarleton may be sure you have not hidden his spy."
"I jest not, mistress," answered Tarleton, who owed her a grudge in thatshe had manifested much personal dislike to himself. "What says yourlordship?"
Cornwallis started to reply, and then hesitated; whereupon Joscelynbroke in haughtily:--
"An your lordship doubts my loyalty, pray let the se
arch proceed--thedoors are open."
"Ay, search; and fail not to look in my Lady Ingrate's wardrobe; 'tisjust of a size to hold a man," came with a scornful laugh from over theway; for Betty was still at her door, and the street was not so wide butthat the opposite voices reached her clearly.
"Of course," said Joscelyn, with the same haughty dignity; "search thewardrobe by all means; here are the keys." She threw the bunch atTarleton's feet, calling to her mother to do the same, and then walkedinto the hall, her head up and her eyes aglow. Richard could not seeher, and so ground his teeth in an impotent rage that she would thustamely yield him up. But the next moment he guessed her purpose,realizing this was her surest way to avert suspicion, and he blessed herunder his breath. If they found him, they should never know that she hadfor a moment connived at his concealment.
Tarleton stooped to pick up the keys, but Cornwallis interposed.
"Nay, sir; to search this house would be an affront to so loyal asubject as Mistress Joscelyn. Besides, the idea that the miscreant ishiding here is preposterous. He must have seen us through the windows,and to enter would have been to rush into the lion's jaws. Spies as arule are wise men; not the fools of an army. Search the stable if youwill, leave a guard in the alley; but enter not the house. And now,Mistress Cheshire, I see the ladies are going; we will also withdrawafter returning thanks to you and your daughter for your charminghospitality."
Richard clutched at the window-frame to steady himself as he realizedthe present peril had passed. What a glorious girl Joscelyn was, for allher Toryism and scoffing!
Joscelyn stood at the door, courtesying to her departing guests,--thepicture of dainty, decorous hospitality. As Tarleton lifted his hatsullenly, she looked him straight in the eyes, and said graciously:--
"I will leave this door unbolted, that your sentry may come in and warmhimself by the fire in the rear room as the night grows chilly."
To doubt her after that were impossible; and he excused his formerbrusqueness by saying a soldier's duty was oftentimes most displeasingto himself. She accepted the apology with a smile, and stood in the dooruntil they all, even Barry, who was always tardy over his leave-taking,had gotten to horse; and then with a final good night, she shut themout. She did not stop in the hall, but went straight on to the stair,saying to her mother as she ran up:--
"Will you see to the lights down here, mother? I will go up and lookafter your fire."
This was a reversal of the usual order of things, but her mother was tooused to her caprices to take any notice. In the room above, Richard hadalready replenished the fire, and was waiting for her on the rug witheager, outstretched arms.
"Joscelyn!" he cried; but she silenced him with a gesture.
"Quick--off with your boots--mother must not know; there will be furtherinquiry to-morrow, and for very anxiety she could not keep the secret.Now, come." In the hall she leaned over the banister to ask her motherto leave something on the table for the sentry to eat; and when the oldlady was gone back to the pantry, Joscelyn unlocked the door of theshed-like attic at the rear of the hall, and giving Richard the lightedcandle she held, she pushed him in. "There are plenty of blankets on theshelves at the far end--make your bed on a pile of carpet that is behindthe cedar chest."
"But, Joscelyn--"
"H-u-s-h, not so loud. As you know, the attic has no windows, so yourcandle cannot be seen outside. There is mother--I will come back if Ican."
She was gone, and he knew that she had locked the door from without.Along with his sense of relief came an exquisite joy that he was herprisoner, that it was she who must minister to him,--she to whom he owedhis life. It was some minutes before he remembered her injunction andset to work to make himself comfortable. He left the candle on the floorbeside his boots and, wrapping himself in the blankets, found a coseyresting-place behind the big cedar chest. What thoughts and visionscrowded his mind as he lay there under the spider-hung rafters thatdropped almost to his head! Five days before he had quitted hiscommand--impelled by a thirsty desire to see Joscelyn's face--toundertake the dangerous mission of his chief, and ascertain Cornwallis'sactual strength. Unable to learn anything definite by hearsay, andcatching idle rumours of Joscelyn's popularity among the Englishofficers, the daring design had come to him to play the part of aLoyalist seeking enlistment in the British army, trusting to what littledisguise he could add to his own altered looks to shield him. Followingout this plan, and gaining at the parade all the knowledge necessary, hehad stolen from the field, and would have effected his escape had he buttaken the longer bridle-path around the mountain, rather than theshorter one directly over it. Joscelyn's accident had delayed himsomewhat, and trusting to his citizen's dress, and the preoccupation ofthe whole force at the parade, he had thought to be beyond sight orpursuit ere the review was over. That his reckoning failed, has beenalready shown. Tarleton's henchmen, set on by Linsey, had headed him offand driven him back into the town. Passed through the peril, and strongman that he was, he yet shuddered as he thought how near to death he hadbeen when he leaped from his horse at the corner yonder, and with afierce cut sent the animal as a decoy down the dark adjacent street,while he plunged into the shadowy alley. At Mistress Cheshire's reargate he had recognized his bearings, and entering without hesitation, hehad crossed the yard, and by means of a grape-trellis climbed to theroof of the rear porch. To open the window was not difficult, but inentering he had upset that flower jar and betrayed his presence. He hadheard the talk and laughter as he climbed up, and guessed who Joscelyn'sguests were; but he trusted to her mother to hide him. How infinitelysweeter it was to know that, instead, it was her own hand that had savedhim.
For nearly an hour he lay thus, stretched at full length upon therestful pallet. Then, all at once, although he was conscious of nosound, he felt that she had come. Rising hastily, he met her as sheslipped through the half-opened door. She shaded her eyes for a momentto concentrate the light, the candle was so dim; then crossing over tothe chest, she placed on it a platter of food and a pitcher of milk.
"You must be half famished;" and although but a whisper, her voice wasstudiously polite. "I have brought you ample supply; for it may be lateere you get your breakfast in the morning, seeing I have to smuggle itto you."
Never had he seen her so beautiful. The shining brocade set off everycurve of her figure; under the lace of her bodice her bosom rose andfell with suppressed excitement, and her eyes were full of the starrylights he knew so well. And yet there was something about her that heldin check the fire that leaped through his pulses. For the first time ashe gazed thus upon her, he realized fully the menace he had brought uponher.
"Joscelyn, I should never have come here."
"It was, as you said, your only chance."
"I should not have taken that chance; rather I should have died besidemy horse before bringing this danger to you."
"Hush! they will not harm me." Her head went up with a little triumphantfling as she said this; for she was thinking of Barry, and how, ifdetection came, he would surely save her.
"You do not know the penalty one pays for harbouring a spy; I will gothis very night and free you from this menace."
"No, no," was the hasty answer. "We should both be undone--Tarleton'smen will watch the house all night. To-morrow night perchance, or thenight after; but not to-night. You are safe here for the present, forhis lordship's orders will be obeyed."
He came close to her, so close that he saw the pallor of her face, andthe perfume of her dress rose with a sweet intoxication to his nostrils."Joscelyn, is it for love of me that you have done this thing?"
"No."
"For what, then?"
"For sake of our old comradeship and for Betty. Besides, you saved mylife this afternoon--a return of favours leaves no burden of obligationon either of us."
"Nay; you risk more for me than I did for you."
She shrugged her shoulders. "The accounts balance." Then glancing aboutsolicitously, she added, "I would I could make yo
u more comfortable, butour first care must be to avert suspicion. Good night."
She was moving to the door, but he caught her wrists just below thehanging lace of her sleeve; and holding her thus, he told her in a fewgraphic sentences all his thoughts as he had rested under the raftersbehind the chest--the reason and the history of his scouting venture,the mental trysts he had held with her so often. All the intensity ofhis strong nature went into that appeal; it seemed as if a heart of icemust have melted in it; and for a moment her head did droop and herhands tremble, then she shrugged her gleaming shoulders again, saying:--
"It had certainly been more soldier-like to have come for love of yourcause, rather than for sake of a girl's eyes."
"For sake of both did I come."
"A spy--"
But she got no further; something in her tone stung him to the quick."You need not speak so disparagingly. A spy's work may not be pleasant,but it is absolutely necessary. Without the information he sends hisgeneral, false steps might be taken and hundreds of lives needlesslysacrificed. A spy has a humane as well as a dangerous mission."
"'Tis well you think so highly of your calling. Good night again."
"Joscelyn, do not leave me thus; this day we have each looked into theeyes of death--let us at least part as friends."
She turned back, her face dimpling with a smile that was like a gleam ofsunshine, "Good night, Richard, and a safe awakening."
Then she was gone; and he threw himself down to sleep the sleep of utterweariness.
Joscelyn sat on the rug before her almost burned-out fire, trying todisengage the attic key from the big bunch her mother habitually wore ather belt, and thinking rapidly of the events of the day. She knew thatthe end had not been reached, but she was determined to brave it out;there was nothing else to do,--there had been nothing else from thefirst. And she must stand alone. Fresh inquiry would be institutedto-morrow, and her mother's veracity could not stand the strain to whichit might be put if she knew all. Neither could the secret be sharedwith Aunt Clevering, for her mother-heart might betray its anxiety, andso would another family be involved. She must bear the burden herself;must evade, pretend, even _lie_, if need be, to keep the knowledge fromany one else. The man had fled to her for sanctuary; which were worse,she asked herself bitterly, to soil her lips with an untruth, or herhands with a betrayal, a breach of trust and of hospitality? From Bettyand Aunt Clevering she could expect no mercy of neglect, because of thathasty speech about the attic closet. It had been made thoughtlessly, toestablish her own footing more securely by a great show of loyalty; butwould, she knew, act as a two-edged sword, cutting away part of hersafety. To-morrow she would not dare leave the house all day lestsomething terrible transpire in her absence; she must feign some pretextfor staying indoors--perchance a headache from the effects of herfright.
And then having planned her course fully and carefully, woman-like shebegan to cry tempestuously at the position in which she found herself;blaming with equally unreasoning impatience the band, Richard, and herhorse for her predicament. If she were only a Whig, doing this thing forher country, or else if she were but in love with Richard, howbeautiful, how romantic, it would all be! But--but--
And even after she was in bed, she went on sobbing softly to herself.
Joscelyn Cheshire: A Story of Revolutionary Days in the Carolinas Page 22
