CHAPTER XXVIII.
AN UNANSWERED QUESTION.
"As o'er the grass, beneath the larches there We gayly stepped, the high noon overhead, Then Love was born--was born so strong and fair." --GIPSY SONG.
Although Joscelyn continued to hold herself aloof from Richard, yet shewas conscious of his protecting influence in other ways besides thehealing of that family quarrel that had been such a burden to her and tothem all. Most of the women of her set continued to cut her outright, orto treat her with the scantest courtesy; but there were no more threatsconcerning her; the boys who had hooted under her window left off theirinsolent ways, and the merchants and tradespeople no longer gave herindifferent service. And in all this she recognized Richard's work, forhe had openly espoused her cause, and had let it be known that those whooffended or ill-used her should later on be answerable to him. From theday of his coming, she felt herself shadowed by an unobtrusive butpersistent watchfulness that plucked many a thorn from her path; andafter the stormy months that had passed, she could not but be gratefulfor the calm. Invalid though he was, she intuitively felt his to be thestronger will, and made no fight against what he did in her behalf. Theprotection for which she had longed had come to her, and she was glad tofeel his strength between her and her persecutors. Never in any boastfulway did he remind her of the defeat of her cause; and tacitly sheacknowledged his generosity. The very perils they had shared drew themtogether with that subtle bond of sympathy a mutual interest creates;and so seldom was there a return to their former sparring that MistressStrudwick protested she knew not which had the better manners.
"I declare, my dear," she said, pinching Joscelyn's cheek, "you are sobeautifully behaved of late that I begin to find you a bit tiresome.Methinks I must stir up Amanda Bryce to pay you a visit and talk overthe war, or else we'll all be stagnating for lack of excitement."
"Well, after these eight years of fermentation, stagnation is just nowthe special estate to which I aspire."
"So? Well, Richard here prefers the estate of matrimony. Is it not true,my lad?" And from the sofa Richard's eyes said yes; whereupon the oldlady went on, nodding her head with mock solemnity, "And since one ofyou wants stagnation and one wants matrimony, I am not so sure but thatyou are of the same mind, for some folk find these things of a piece.And so, miss, you may have come around to Richard's way of thinkingafter all."
And seeing Joscelyn stiffen, Richard was sorry that the conversation hadtaken such a personal turn; for the two had come in to pay him a visit.That was one thing that troubled him--she never came by herself; alwaysit was her mother or Betty or Janet Cameron she brought with her asthough she feared to trust herself alone with him, wishing, perchance,to hear no more of his love-making. And even with these others she cameso seldom. He could not go to her, for the hard rough journey home hadracked his arm and set the fever to throbbing again in his blood, and hemust remain quiet, or dire consequences were threatened.
But one February night, when she had stayed away several days, andthe longing in his breast grew unbearable, he sent for her. The windwithout howled like some hungry creature seeking its prey, and thewhite-fingered spirit of the snowstorm tapped weirdly at his window. Buthe gave it no heed; storm or shine, he must see her this night of allothers; and so a word of entreaty was sent across the street. She cameat once, a brilliant apparition in a scarlet shawl over which the snowlay powdered in shining crystals; on her lips and in her eyes the smileof which he had dreamed in the copper and crimson sunsets on theprison-ship. He gathered her cold hands into his feverish ones.
"You knew I must see you this night?"
"Yes; I felt you would send for me, for I knew we were thinking of thesame things."
"A year ago to-night you and I stood in jeopardy of our lives."
She nodded; all day she had been living over those fearful hours ofwhich this day was the anniversary.
"Yes, a year ago to-night Tarleton held us in his toils."
"We have never talked of that dreadful time; now I want you to tell meeverything you can recall of it. Sit down."
As she obeyed, the wide shawl fell away and left in sight the silverbrocade of her gown, and her shoulders rising white and beautiful fromthe lace of the low bodice. He started, and raised himself upon hiselbow. Was he dreaming? No; the powder and the rose were in her hair,the saucy patch at the corner of her mouth. She had not forgotten; justso had she looked when she faced Tarleton, and risked her womanhood forhis own safety. He could not speak, but his eyes did full homage to herbeauty.
"I knew you would send for me, so I was ready," she said, and smiledagain. So it was for him she had robed herself thus!--there was a thrillof ecstasy in his veins. And then when he still did not speak, for sheerjoy of looking at her, she began to talk of that terrible day; and bothof them lived over in a quick rush of memory all its hopes and fears,its uncertainties and dangers. Her fingers were icy cold, and the verytremors that had then possessed her, crept again through her veins asshe went from scene to scene, and he learned for the first time all ofher deceptions and trials. So absorbed was she that she did not evenknow he had taken her hands in his, until she felt the hot pressure atthe end of her narrative. Then when there seemed nothing left to tell,and he still looked at her in a silence more eloquent than words, shegrew restless and rose to go; but he caught her skirt.
"Not yet, not yet! Betty is happy with her lover in the parlour, andmother is somewhere down there acting propriety or else fast asleep. Forthis one evening, at least, you shall belong to me."
And then when those hot, trembling fingers had drawn her again to herseat, he went on:--
"There is one question I have wanted to ask you all these months--" Andthen, for very fear of her answer, he hesitated and substituted another."Why did you not come back to me that last night? You knew I was waitingfor you, longing for you with every heart-throb."
"It was so late."
"Late? What mattered an hour on the dial when I wanted you so much?"
And she flushed and hesitated, remembering she had not gone back at thatunseemingly hour lest he should misunderstand her; men were so cold intheir judgments. Looking at him now she was ashamed of that doubt ofhim.
"Was it in truth the lateness of the hour, or--or because of what Barrysaid to you on the stair? I opened the attic door and saw you, and Iknew he was talking of his love. My God, how I envied him! Was it forthat you stayed away from me?"
She turned her head aside with a gesture that hurt him like aknife-thrust. Then the question that had burnt in his thoughts, andfilled his heart with cankering jealousy all these weeks, came out:--
"Joscelyn, did you love him? Tell me the truth in mercy."
Slowly her eyes came back to him, soft and blue, and kindled with aflame he had never seen before. He rose on his elbow to meet the answer,eager yet fearful; but before she could speak, Betty opened the door.
"Eustace and I are coming to sit with you awhile, Richard, for you twomust be better acquainted," she said to him; and with the blindness thatis a part of love, neither she nor Eustace saw that their coming wasunwelcome. Before they left, Joscelyn had slipped away, carrying hisquestion and its answer in her heart. But before she went to bed, sheopened the box where she kept her treasures, and kneeling in front ofher fire, laid upon the glowing embers the scarlet sash of an officer inthe king's service.
"I have no right to keep you any longer," she whispered, as the silkcracked and crinkled, and passed away in a smoke-fringed flame; "noright, for now I know, I know!"
The quiet of the town was now frequently broken; for as February drew toa close, some of the soldiers began to straggle home, some on furlough,some on dismissal. Billy Bryce, hungry for the toothsome things in hismother's pantry and impatient for a sight of the yellow curls thatsunned themselves on Janet's head, came first. But ten minutes spent inthat young woman's company so dampened his spirits, that for days hismother's utmost efforts in culinary arts failed to tempt h
im. Janet knewthe very hour of his arrival, and she also knew that it was two hoursbefore he came to seek her. She could not know that his stay with hismother had been as unwilling as it was dutiful; so to complicate mattersa little more she had gone out to pay some calls that might have waiteda month. But he found her at last on Joscelyn's porch, her hands in hermuff, her curls bobbing from under her hood to the fur-trimmed tippetbelow, where the winter sunshine seemed to gather itself into a focus.He waved to her from halfway down the square, but she only squinted upher eyes as in a vain effort at recognition.
"Well, I declare," she exclaimed patronizingly, as he sprang eagerly upthe steps, "if it isn't Mistress Bryce's little Billy! Why, Billy,child, you must have grown quite an inch since you went away. How isyour dear mother to-day?"
Her tone and manner were indescribably superior, as though she weretalking to a child of six, so that the amazed and abashed boy, insteadof hugging her in his long arms as he wanted to, took the tips of thelittle fingers she put out to him, and stammeringly and solicitouslyasked if she had been quite well since he saw her last. She said it wasa long time to remember, but she would do the best she could, andimmediately began to count off on her fingers the number of headachesand toothaches she had had in the past two years; until Joscelyn, sorryfor the boy's unprovoked misery, stopped her abruptly, and finally sentBilly across the street to pour out his disappointment to Richard.
"Janet, you little barbarian, you have no heart!"
"Oh, yes I have," replied that imperturbable young woman; "I have agreat big heart for a grown man, but you see I do not particularly carefor children who are still dangling at their mother's apron string."
Even a lecture from Richard, to whom she was much attached, did her nogood; for all the while he was speaking she sat studying the effect ofher high-heeled shoe on Betty's blue footstool, and answered hisperoration about Billy's broken heart with the utterly irrelevantassertion that Frederick Wyley said she had the prettiest foot in thecolonies. Did Richard agree with him? So Billy's cause was not advancedany, and Richard began to advise him to think no more of thisyellow-haired tormentor.
"I declare, Billy Bryce looks like a child with perpetual cramps,"Mistress Strudwick exclaimed to Joscelyn one day, when the lad passedthe window where the two sat; and then she glanced down the room to hermedicine-box.
"But it is a course of sweets, not bitters, that he needs," laughedJoscelyn. "It's his heart and not his stomach that ails Billy."
"Half the lovesickness in the world is nothing but dyspepsia; mighty fewcases of disappointed affection outlast a torpid liver."
"I never heard you make such an unsentimental remark."
"You never heard me tell such a truth. Bone-set and senna is the thingfor Billy, and I'll see that he gets a bottle; if it does not cure hisdisappointment, it will at least kill off that particular brand of longface he is wearing. No wonder Janet turns up her nose at him."
"Yes, I begin to think she is permanently at outs with him."
Then other soldiers began to arrive. Thomas Nash got sick-leave fromWashington's staff; and from the south came Master Strudwick, moreanxious for a sight of home and wife than for the gold which thedissatisfied army was awaiting; and out of the north came Peter Ruffin,a weird wraith of his former self, to tell anew the horrible story ofthe prison-ships. The other Hillsboro' man, who had been with him hadsuccumbed to the plague, and gone to swell the number of those at whoseshallow graves the hungry sea was forever calling.
"And Dame Grant?" asked Richard, when Peter came to see him.
"She, too, fell a victim to the disease of the hulks, and sorely did wemiss her. I knew you had escaped in safety, because one day she came tothe ship wearing a new woollen hood, and when we twitted her about itover the rail, asking her if it was a lover's gift, she said that DickClevering's sweetheart had sent it to her out of gratitude from thesouth."
"I helped to knit it," Betty cried, while Joscelyn's eyes were notlifted from the floor. In the semi-twilight of the room, Richard reachedout and touched her hand gently.
"It was like your generous heart."
"But I made it out of the reddest wool I could find, with never a touchof blue or buff," she answered, laughing; but Richard was content.
Nor did these home-coming men bring the only tidings from the outsideworld. Now and then letters came that set the tongues to wagging; nowwith news of Washington's refusal of a crown, now with a description ofMary Singleton's marriage to Edward Moore. Janet refused persistently toshow her letters which came in the Halifax post, but one day Richard hadone from Colborn that made him laugh with delight:--
"The miniature is set in a narrow gold frame, without jewels; for although I won my promotion, it was only a lieutenancy. However, I am content. It was at Guilford Court-house, in your own Carolina country, the day Tarleton was wounded. Soon I am going home, with my pockets full of American pebbles, to claim the original, and bring her back here to this great country to enjoy the freedom I am glad you won."
And when Joscelyn went home, after hearing the letter read, she againopened her box of treasures and took from it a shining gold piece, andlooked at it with a startled sweetness in her eyes.
"'MY HEART'S PRISONER FOR TIME AND ETERNITY.'"]
Joscelyn Cheshire: A Story of Revolutionary Days in the Carolinas Page 28
