The Gentle Rebel

by Gilbert, Morris

  Carefully Laddie moved to stand in front of the desk, and asked quietly, “How did he get taken?”

  “We don’t know,” Abigail whispered. She looked with a tremulous mouth at Laddie, adding, “He came to see me, of course.” And despite the trembling lips, there was a flash of fire in her eyes, pride that a man would risk his life for her! “And I was so afraid! I tried to get him to leave—but he wouldn’t listen!” She gave a small smile and shrugged, “Love makes people do strange things, don’t you agree?”

  Laddie thought of the plan she was determined on; there was a strange smile on her lips as she answered quietly, “Yes, a man will do strange things for love—and so will a woman.” Then she demanded, “And why can’t you use the pass—go see him, Miss Howland? If he’s going to die for you, the least you could do is go say goodbye!”

  Abigail dropped her head in confusion (exactly as Laddie had hoped!), and in one smooth motion, Laddie turned, picked up the pass and shoved it into her shirt. It took less than three seconds, and she said quickly, “I’m sorry to have bothered you, Miss Howland. I’ll be going now.”

  Abigail looked up with a startled expression as Laddie reached the door, and she cried out loudly, “I can’t go to him! Can’t you see that?”

  But the door closed, and in a matter of seconds Laddie was walking as fast as she could in the direction of the business district.

  Two hours later she was opening the door of the Winslow warehouse. Quickly she moved to hitch the team of bays to the buggy—the same one, she noted with a slight shock, that they’d gone to New York in. She was thankful the guard had gone for the night, and even more grateful that she had kept her key!

  Dark had fallen by the time the team stood stamping in the cold of the stable, and Laddie picked up the bulky package she’d brought with her. The office was still warm, and she pulled a small box out of the large sack, opened it, and withdrew two small flintlock pistols. Carefully she primed them with black powder and then, wrapping two balls in small fragments of cloth, shoved them home with the small ramrod. Carefully she put them aside, then turned to the large bag.

  From it she pulled a fashionable dark blue dress, then one by one all the other garments that a young woman of fashion would be likely to wear. The clerk, she remembered suddenly, had been bewildered by a young man buying such garments, but he had not argued, for the price was high—taking Laddie’s meager store of cash nearly to the last farthing.

  She stared at the dress, stroking the fine material, and then she faltered—but in the silence as her fears rose, she seemed to hear Rev. Kelly’s voice whispering: Though an host should encamp against me, my heart shall not fear! She tossed the dress down, stripped out of her male attire quickly, and in a few minutes she stood there, dressed in women’s clothes for the first time in months. The freedom and looseness of the dress seemed strange to her, and she whirled and laughed as the skirt rose gracefully. There was no mirror except for the small one fixed over the washstand that some of the men used at times for shaving, but she donned the small bonnet with the flowing veil and stared into the mirror.

  Several curls escaped the bonnet, ringing her face, and she had not trimmed her eyelashes in weeks, so they curled up over her large eyes. “I must say, Miss Sampson—you look quite ravishing!” Then she laughed shortly and threw her old clothes into the bag. The two pistols she carefully placed in the belt of the dress, far back at her sides so that they were covered by the short stylish red jacket which she put on.

  She ran to the door, opened it, and after driving the team out, shut and locked it. Then she drove toward the jail, her jaw set and her heart steady with purpose.

  The dropping temperature bit into her, even through the thick clothing, but she was glad, for the weather had driven most of the citizens indoors, and the streets were practically empty. She drove boldly up to the very door of the red brick building, got down quickly and tied the team to a hitching post. She retrieved the purse she had bought and, conscious of abandoning the masculine swagger she had picked up in past months, walked through the front door, her heart beating evenly.

  “Why—wot’s this?” The same burly corporal rose up from his chair as she entered, and he looked at her so hard that she was sure for one heartbeat that he remembered her. But he merely looked baffled and said, “You shouldn’t be here, Miss!”

  “Oh, that’s quite all right, Corporal,” she said sweetly, in the most feminine voice she could muster, “I have a pass to see Nathan Winslow.” She smiled at him through the veil and took the sealed envelope out of the handbag.

  He stared at her, then shook his beefy face from side to side. “I can’t do that!” He looked nervously to his right and called out, “Lieutenant Fitzwilliam!”

  The officer had been lying down on a cot, and he came to his feet slowly; then as he saw Laddie, straightened up and retrieved his coat from the peg on the wall. “What’s this, Corporal?”

  “Lady says she’s got a pass to see Winslow.”

  Fitzwilliam had been buttoning his tunic—but he paused and stared at her, then shook his head. “That’s quite impossible!”

  Laddie held it out and said, “You refuse to honor an order from General Gage?”

  The name seemed to shock the officer, for he suddenly arched his back and his pale face flushed red in lamplight. “Why—uh—I mean, certainly not!” He gingerly took the envelope, broke the seal, then extracted the paper inside. His mobile features revealed the shock that the note gave him, and he said at once in a conciliatory voice, “My apologies, Miss Howland. Of course, you may see the prisoner. I’ll take you up myself.”

  “Thank you, Lieutenant,” Laddie said, and took his arm. He said, “Corporal, I’ll remain upstairs until this lady is ready to leave.”

  “Yes, sir!”

  As she followed the officer up the stairs, she noted that the two privates, who had been playing cards, were watching with covert eyes, and she knew as soon as the officer was out of sight, the three of them would buzz with talk, but she put the thought of them from her mind.

  “We have to keep a close watch, Miss Howland,” Lieutenant Fitzwilliam said. He was burning with curiosity, and said carefully, “The prisoner—he’s . . . ?”

  “We—were to be married!” Laddie brought a sob into her voice and covered her face with her handkerchief.

  “Oh—I—I’m sorry . . . !” Fitzwilliams muttered, then took a key as he paused before a heavy oak door fastened with a huge padlock and chain. As he inserted the key, he said apologetically, “You may see the prisoner alone—I’ll be right here, so call when you’re ready to leave. I’m afraid I must examine your handbag.”

  He looked through the bag, then pulled the lock free, swung the door open, saying, “Winslow! Miss Howland is here to see you!”

  Laddie was behind the officer, who was a very tall man, and her first glimpse of Nathan came when he shifted and moved around her to the door. Nathan’s face when she saw it was filled with joy, and then he looked full at her, and instantly there was a change. Laddie knew that the officer was watching, and she said, “Nathan!” and threw herself into his arms, so that he had to catch her. She clung fiercely to him until she heard Fitzwilliam sigh, and then the ponderous door swung to with a bang and the padlock rattled noisily.

  Instantly Laddie pulled back and looked up into Nathan’s bewildered eyes. He said harshly, “What sort of game is this? Who are you?”

  Laddie reached up, yanked her hat off and grinned up at him. “Laddie Smith at your service!” She saw his mouth spring open and his eyes opened wide.

  “Laddie!” he gasped. “I can’t believe—!”

  She shook her head and whispered fiercely, “That Redcoat is out there with his ear glued to the door, so don’t talk so loud.” He was still staring at her in unbelief, so she said with a smile, “I make a pretty good-looking girl in all this, don’t I, Nathan? I think that fool lieutenant wanted to kiss me!” She pulled at the dress, adding, “This rig and all this p
adding is killing me! I don’t see how women can stand to wear such clothes!”

  “Laddie—you shouldn’t be here!” Nathan came out of the shock that held him, and shook his head sternly. “I know you want to help, but there’s no way. They’ll hang you right beside me if—!”

  “Nathan, I didn’t come to get hanged!” Laddie snapped. “Now, listen to me—there’s an officer out there, and downstairs there’s a corporal and two privates. I’ve got the buggy right outside, and when we get out of here, we jump in and I’d like to see them catch us till we get through the lines!”

  He stared at the fire in the dark eyes and said, “But they’re all armed, Laddie.”

  “So are we!” Laddie reached inside the coat and pulled the two pistols out with a flourish. “Primed and ready to shoot!”

  For the first time a light of hope leaped to his eyes, and he reached out and took one. Examining the load, he said with excitement, “By the good Lord—we just might make it!”

  She nodded and said quietly, “That’s right, Nathan—by the good Lord.”

  He shot a quick look at her, then suddenly dropped his head. He stood there struggling for a long moment, then lifted his face and sorrow was in his eyes. “I—I’d given up on God, Laddie.”

  “But He hasn’t given up on you!” Laddie smiled. “Now, we’ve got to wait a few minutes; then we’ll call the lieutenant in. Let me tell you what we’re going to do . . .”

  She spoke rapidly, and when she finished he said quickly, “I think we can do it!”

  “All right, but we’d better wait a few minutes.”

  In the pause that followed, he looked at her and said, “Laddie, I—I’ve thought a lot about you these last few hours.”

  “You mean about Abigail!” she shot back instantly, then was sorry for it.

  “Of her, too, of course, but that’s different. I mean, I’ve thought of you, and of all I hated to leave, why, I guess my family was first—and by the Lord, I hated to leave you!”

  “Did you, Nathan?”

  “Yes.” He reached out and grabbed her by the hair as he had at the creek in the woods, and he grinned suddenly, saying, “You’re too pretty to be a boy, Laddie!” He laughed and gave her hair a harder tug as a thought struck him. “Why couldn’t you have been a girl? Then we could have fallen in love and I wouldn’t have gotten in all this mess!”

  She gasped and pulled away, her face flaming. “Will you keep your hands off me!” She turned her back, and her breathing was shallow as she said, “Tell me how you got caught.”

  He told her how he had gone to Charles first, and had stayed there all day to keep out of sight of the patrols. Then, after dark, he’d gone to Abigail’s; he ended by saying “So when I came out of the Howlands’ a patrol was there and they picked me up.”

  “They were waiting for you?”

  She turned to see a pain cross his face. “Yes,” he said, and then said, “I think a servant at the Howlands’ must have seen me.”

  She studied him, but said only, “Best to think that.” Then she picked up her bonnet, tied it on, and arranged the veil. “I think you can call Lieutenant Fitzwilliam in now.”

  “All right.” He walked to the door, and banging on it called out, “Lieutenant! Miss Howland is ready to go!”

  He positioned himself to the side of the door, while holding one of the pistols in his left hand. When the door swung open, he did not wait, but reached out with a long arm, grabbed the officer by the jacket and pulled him inside in one smooth motion. Fitzwilliam found himself looking directly into the muzzle of a pistol, and the blue eyes that peered over it seemed no less threatening than the firearm held in the man’s hand!

  “Redcoat, you’ve got a very, very small chance to live,” Nathan said quietly. “I’m a dead man, so I’ve got nothing to lose. Now, do you want to live—or not?”

  Fitzwilliam’s throat gave a convulsive swallow, and sweat popped out on his brow. He stared into Nathan’s eyes and saw death, so he nodded quickly. “I’ll do—anything! Just don’t kill me!” he pleaded.

  “All right, I promise you, if you do exactly what I tell you, you’ll not be harmed. Now, you and I are going to the top of the stairs, and you’re going to call the corporal. Tell him the lady is ill, and you want him to come upstairs.”

  “All right!”

  The officer moved nervously as Nathan prodded him with the pistol, and when they got to the top of the stairs, Nathan opened the door, then placed the muzzle right under Fitzwilliam’s ear, At once he called out loudly, “Corporal Dietz! The lady is ill! Come up and help me with her!”

  “Now, back to the cell,” Nathan said, and they moved back inside. Nathan said, “Put that pistol to his ear, Laddie, and shoot him if he blinks!”

  They waited as Corporal Dietz dashed into the room—straight into the muzzle of Nathan’s weapon. His mouth dropped open, but Nathan gave him no chance to think. He said, “Soldier, you want to live?”

  Dietz hesitated, and there was a loud CLICK as Nathan pulled the hammer back, and the muzzle suddenly seemed very large to the corporal. He gasped, “Don’t shoot!”

  Nathan stared at him, then said harshly, “I’ll tell you what I’ve told the lieutenant—if you do as you’re told, you’ll live. They can only hang me once, so I’ll put a bullet in your brain if you even blink!”

  The corporal nodded quickly, and Nathan moved back. “Lieutenant, take off your clothes.”

  “What?”

  CLICK. The pistol that Laddie held to the officer’s head cocked, and he at once cried out, “No!” and then began stripping off his uniform.

  “Against the wall, both of you—Laddie, shoot them down if they move!” Nathan quickly undressed and put on the uniform of Fitzwilliam. When he buttoned up the tunic, he said, “All right, on your belly, Lieutenant!” Ignoring the officer’s protests, he took the cords that Laddie had brought in the purse, then gagged him with a piece of cloth.

  When Dietz stared stupidly at the officer, Laddie moved in front of him. “Pick me up, you stupid ox!” He blinked, but obeyed. As soon as she was in his arms, she pressed the muzzle of her flintlock directly over his heart and covered it with her coat. “Be pretty messy if this goes off, won’t it?”

  “And I’ll be right behind you, Corporal,” Nathan said. He picked up the purse Laddie had brought and shoved his weapon inside, then pointed the invisible flintlock at Dietz. “We’re going down, and you’re going to say to the guards, ‘Both of you, go up quickly and guard the prisoner! The Lieutenant and I have to get the lady to a doctor!’ You got that?”

  “And tell them to keep that door locked tight until the two of you get back,” Laddie added. She pressed the pistol hard against the thick chest and said, “I think the corporal is going to say his piece real well.”

  “Let’s go,” Nathan stated hurriedly, and he followed Dietz out of the door, then locked it carefully, putting the key in his pocket. “All right, we’ll go down. Do it quick, and you’ve got a fair chance of staying out of hell for a little longer!”

  They went down the stair in a rush, and Nathan kept his face turned away from the end of the room where he caught a glimpse of the two privates. Dietz performed as if his life depended upon it! He gave a stentorian yell that rattled the windows: “Get up to the prisoner, you two! Me and the lieutenant gotta get the lady to a doctor!” He dove for the door, screaming, “And don’t open that cell for nobody till we get back!”

  Nathan followed on his heels, and slammed the door, but not before he heard the soldiers running across the room and up the stairs. “Get in the back—on your face!” he commanded Dietz as Laddie unhitched the team and sprang to the seat.

  “You gonna kill me!” Dietz protested, but Nathan forced him into the coach, face down in the back.

  “We’ll let you go if you keep your mouth shut! Drive on, Laddie!”

  The horses leaped at the touch of Laddie’s whip, and those few people who had braved the cold were surprised to see a carriage
driving so fast along the icy streets.

  Three hours later, Corporal Dietz found himself afoot and unharmed, but he could curse only in a whisper, for he was so close to the enemy lines he knew he’d be picked up. He slogged wearily back toward town, trying to make up a story that would satisfy the officers, but halfway there, decided that there was no such story. He thought better of returning, decided to become an ex-member of the King’s forces, and went to the harbor where a certain ship was leaving at dawn for Calcutta.

  As soon as they dumped Dietz and he disappeared down the road, Laddie said, “Nathan, I’ve got to get out of these clothes!”

  “Well, you won’t be near so pretty—but I guess you got a right to do just about anything you please.” She grabbed the sack and sprinted into the woods behind a large oak tree, out of Nathan’s line of vision. Her teeth were chattering as she changed back to her customary garb. Then she stuffed the feminine clothing in the sack and climbed back into the seat.

  “That’s better.”

  He didn’t move, but sat there in the moonlight, staring out at the hills. The silence ran on, making her nervous, and finally he turned to her and said in an odd voice, “Sun’s coming up pretty soon.” He cleared his throat, then looked at her. “Thought it’d be my last one. Would have been, Laddie, except for you.”

  She shifted slightly, then met his eyes. “Well, that makes us even, doesn’t it?”

  “No, it doesn’t.” When she stared at him, he smiled and said, “I didn’t risk anything when I got you out of the snow—but you stuck your neck in a noose for me tonight.”

  Laddie looked at him, then said quietly, “We better go, Nathan.”

  He stared at her. “You don’t want thanks, do you, Laddie? But I’ll never forget it. Remember what you said once, the old Indian custom—If somebody saves your life, you belong to that person always?” His eyes held hers, and he said huskily, “So, I guess we kind of belong to each other somehow, don’t we, Laddie?”

  She couldn’t speak for the lump in her throat until they had moved along for a few hundred yards, then she whispered, “I guess if you say so, Nathan, we must!”