CHAPTER VII
THE PARTING OF THE WAYS
"WHAT'S wrong, Sarah? What is it? What is it?" said Tom excitedly, as hedrew near the almost breathless girl. "Has anything happened at thehouse?"
"Oh, Tom!" was all that Sarah at first could say. The reaction from herexcitement and the swift pace at which she had been running had come,and the frightened girl burst into a flood of tears.
Tom looked on in helpless amazement. Sarah was usually such a strong andself-contained girl that her present distress was all the moreperplexing. He looked at her a moment, feeling how utterly unable he wasto comprehend the state of her feelings and how helpless he was to aidor comfort her. Benzeor might be faced; and even Fenton, in spite of thefear with which Tom regarded him, might be met; but a weeping girl wasentirely outside the realm of all his previous experiences, and he stoodleaning upon his gun, eager to do something to aid Sarah, and feeling adeep sympathy for her as he silently watched her.
Perhaps his silence was the very best aid he could offer, for in a brieftime the resolute Sarah gained control of herself, and lifting hertear-stained face to that of the troubled lad by her side she said, "OhTom, they've killed Little Peter's mother!"
"What!" exclaimed Tom in amazement. "Killed her? You can't mean it! Whokilled her?"
"Yes, they shot her, and have carried off his father, too."
"I don't understand, Sarah," said Tom more quietly. "Tell me about it."
"Little Peter came over to our house just a little while ago to leavethe children, and he told us all about it. It seems, he was the lookoutyesterday down by the Hook and didn't get home till it was almost lightthis morning.
"He said he went up to his room and laid down upon his bed, and musthave gone to sleep, but he was waked up by the sound of the voices ofmen in the house. He jumped out of bed and listened, and pretty soon heheard one of them tell his mother that she must hand over the money shehad hidden in a stocking up in the garret, and tell where his fatherwas.
"She refused to do either, and then Little Peter hurriedly dressed andran down the stairs, but some of the men just grabbed him and held himfast so that he couldn't do anything to help his mother. He said the menall had masks on their faces except Fenton, for he thinks it wasFenton's band that did the work, and he was sure he recognized theblacksmith."
"No doubt about that!" exclaimed Tom. "What did they do then?"
"They held his mother while some of them ran up into the garret, andpretty soon one of them came back with the stocking. They made quite atime over that, and Little Peter thought they wouldn't do anything more,but it seems they didn't find as much money in the stocking as theyexpected. Little Peter explained it to me by saying that his mother haddivided it, and had hidden a part in the garden back of the house andleft only a part in the stocking.
"For a little time they didn't suspect that, but wanted to know whereher husband was. Of course she didn't tell them. How could she, when hewasn't there? Well, they searched the place high and low. They tore openthe feather beds, and broke down the walls in two or three places, butthey couldn't find Peter. Then they went out into the barns and searchedthem, but not a trace of him could they find. They must have been prettyangry by that time, for when they came back to the house they told herthey knew there must be more money than they had found in the stocking,and she must tell them where it was.
"Just then one of the children called out that she knew where it was forshe had seen her mother dig a hole in the ground and put a bag of moneyin it. Two of the men then took the child out into the garden and triedto make her show them the place where the money was, but she must eitherhave forgotten or else did not know, for the men came back into thehouse more angry than before, and told her mother that she must go withthem and show them the place.
"Of course she refused, and then Fenton raised his gun and told her he'dgive her till he could count five, to tell. She didn't say a word, andwhen the blacksmith had counted four he stopped a minute to give her achance to speak. He waited, and as she only shook her head the outlawpulled the trigger and shot her in the breast."
"And killed her?" inquired Tom in a low voice.
"Yes, killed her. The bullet must have struck her heart, for LittlePeter said she fell dead. They threw the body on the bed and then theyturned upon Little Peter. He said he thought his turn had come then, butat that very minute the guard they had stationed down by the road camerunning into the house, and going up to Fenton whispered something inhis ear.
"Little Peter didn't know what it was, he said, but in a minute Fentonturned to his men and gave them some directions, and they all stoppedand went out of the house, that is, all except two, who were lookingafter Little Peter and the children.
"In almost no time Little Peter heard some one coming up the lane onhorseback and stop right before the kitchen door. He heard him jump offfrom the horse, and after a pause of a minute the men all made a rushout of the house. Pretty soon they came back, and Little Peter saw thathis own father was a prisoner in their hands.
"He said his father took on fearfully when he saw his wife dead, andwhat the men had been doing, but in a minute they bound him hand andfoot, and put a gag in his mouth, and then he was as helpless as a babyin their hands.
"Little Peter said he didn't know what was coming next. He thoughtthey'd torture him or his father into telling where the money was, orwould set fire to the house; but before they could do anything the guardcame running into the house again and called out that some one wascoming.
"They only stopped long enough to tie Little Peter to the post of thevery bed on which his mother was lying dead, and then they made a breakout of the house and took their horses and were off down the lane in notime."
"How did you hear about it? How did Little Peter get away?" said Tomslowly.
"Why, in a few minutes Indian John came into the house, and he setLittle Peter free. 'Twas lucky for him that he did, for Fenton mighthave come back, you see."
"And Little Peter came over to your house with the children, then?"
"Yes, he brought them all over, and they're at our house now. But, ohTom, it's dreadful! dreadful! I'm so afraid they'll come to our placenext, and so I ran out here to get you. Come Tom! Come right away! Theymay be there now!"
Tom hesitated, not knowing just what to do. He was only a boy, and knewthat alone he could do nothing against Fenton and his band. But theappeal of Sarah and the unprotected condition of the children and hermother moved him strongly, and his first impulse was to return with thefrightened girl.
"Sarah," said he abruptly, "where is your father?"
"Why, you know he went away this morning, and he hasn't come back yet.He said he might not be back before to-morrow morning. We're all alone,Tom, and you must come right away. Oh, it's awful!" And Sarah buried herface in her hands again as she spoke.
It was almost upon Tom's lips to tell her what he knew of Benzeor. Butthe misery of the weeping girl before him was even stronger than theimpression produced by the sad tale she had just related, and he couldnot quite bring himself up to the point of telling her what hesuspected,--that her own father had been connected with the attack uponLittle Peter's home. But he had decided now as to the course of actionhe must follow.
"Sarah," said he gently, "there isn't the least danger in the world thatyour house will be attacked. I can't tell you how I know, but I knowit's so."
"But we're all alone, Tom! I don't know what you mean! We're as likelyto be attacked as any one. You must go back with me! We must go rightaway, for they may be there now! Poor mother, she was so frightened thatshe didn't want me to leave and come over here for you! Come! We must goright back now!"
"Sarah, I'm never going into that house again. You can tell your fatherthat I've slept for the last time under his roof."
"Not going back with me?" said Sarah aghast, and looking up in surpriseas she spoke. "Not going back?" she repeated, as if she did not fullyunderstand what Tom had said.
"No, I'm not g
oing back," said Tom firmly. "You know I've been thinkinga good while of leaving, and after what you've just told me I know thetime has come."
The color slowly faded from Sarah's face and a different expression cameinto her eyes. Even her alarm was apparently forgotten for the moment,and as Tom looked at her, her eyes seemed to snap and a sneer replacedthe look of sorrow.
"Tom Coward, you're afraid!" she said; "that's what's the trouble withyou. You're afraid, that's what you are! You'd rather leave mother andme alone there with the children than run any risks of meeting theblacksmith! I wouldn't have believed it, but my father was right. You'rea coward by nature as well as by name."
"Sarah"--began Tom, his face flushing at the words of the angry girl.
"Don't 'Sarah' me! I know you now! I never could have believed it,never! But I've heard you with my own ears, and now I know it's true!You're afraid! You're a coward, that's just what you are! Oh, you'rewell named, you are! Very well, sir, it shall be as you say. Perhaps weshall be better off without you than we would with you, for it wouldonly make another child for us to look after if you should come back!I'll go back home and face Fenton and every one of his band myself! I'mafraid, but I'm no coward!"
"TOM COWARD, YOU'RE AFRAID!"]
Turning abruptly away, after giving Tom a glance which he never forgot,she started resolutely and swiftly back along the pathway which she hadfollowed in her flight to the ten-acre lot.
Tom looked after her in helpless amazement. Never before had he heardsuch an outburst from the gentle and even-tempered Sarah, who had beenthe leading spirit in Benzeor's household. The children had gone to herwith their troubles rather than to their mother, and Sarah had neverfailed to have a word of comfort or of help for every one. Even Benzeorhimself had come to depend upon her judgment in many of his affairs, andshe had been as patient and gentle with him as she had been with thetroubled little ones.
And to Tom she had been the one true friend he had ever known. Somehowshe had always understood him, and from the days of their earlychildhood it had always been a matter of pride to him that he was heracknowledged champion and protector. Many a time, when he was a sturdylittle lad, had he taken her part against the tormenting boys in theschool. For her he had carved quaint and strange looking dolls out ofhorse-chestnuts, and the childish Sarah had never failed to receivethem with many expressions of pleasure, and had lavished a wealth ofaffection upon them which was almost as pleasing to Tom as to the littlemother herself. For her he had gathered the chestnuts in the autumn andthe bright colored flowers in the springtime; and when, with the passingof the years, there had come to them both new feelings and newinterests, he still had shared with her all those dimly perceivedambitions and longings which are ever present in the boyish heart whenit arrives at that position where it can look out upon the time when theboy is to become a man.
Perhaps Tom had enjoyed her sympathy and interest the more because ofthe loneliness of his own position. But Sarah never by word or act hadcaused him to feel that he was only Benzeor Osburn's "bound boy," andnot truly one of the household.
Tom was thinking of some of these things as he watched the departinggirl, and, forgetting for the moment all the anger and shame which herlast words had aroused, he called aloud after her.
"Sarah! Sarah!" he shouted. "Wait a minute! Come back! Come back!"
Sarah apparently did not hear him, or heed him if she heard, and withoutonce turning her head or looking behind her soon disappeared in theforest.
An impulse to follow her seized Tom, and he even ran a few steps afterher, but quickly stopped. How could he explain himself to her withoutinforming upon Benzeor? And then her sorrow would be harder for him tobear than her present anger, hard as that was. No; all he could do wasto remain silent for the time, and trust that in the future someexplanation might be made which should set him aright once more in theestimation of the best friend the homeless boy had ever known.
The departure of Sarah left him face to face with the perplexing problemof what he was now to do. To return to Benzeor's house was impossible;but where should he go?
Tom stood for several minutes in deep thought. There was no home whichwould now be open to him except Little Peter's, and that had beenwrecked by the dreadful deeds of Fenton and his followers. Washington'sarmy he had heard was at Hopewell, and that was at least forty milesaway. It was to the army he had ultimately hoped to go, and perhaps thepresent was the very time to which he had been looking forward so long.
The longer he thought about it the more strongly was he impressed withthe conviction that his best plan would be to try to make his way toHopewell, or to the place to which the army might have moved by thistime. It was true he was without provisions, and he knew of no place inwhich he would be likely to obtain any, or in which he might find aresting-place for a night. Of the long journey he thought but little,for a walk even of forty miles had no terrors for him.
Tom decided to start for Washington's army, but first he must stop atLittle Peter's and learn what his friend's plans were to be, and offerhim such aid as it lay within his power to give.
The decision once made, Tom picked up his rifle, which now he somehowhad come to regard as his own property, and started through the foresttoward the distant road.
When at last he gained it and started towards Little Peter's home, hewas startled as he saw some one running down the road, and his firstimpulse was to conceal himself in the forest and wait for the strangerto pass; but his fears were relieved when he recognized the long lope ofthe runner, and then knew that his old friend Indian John wasapproaching.
Boys of Old Monmouth: A Story of Washington's Campaign in New Jersey in 1778 Page 7
