The Gentle Rebel

by Gilbert, Morris

  He got up, pulled his clothes on, and hurried downstairs to unlock the door. Nathan stepped in, his face tense. “Hello, Father. She’s still here, isn’t she?”

  “Well, yes,” Adam said. “But Sampson’s taking her back to Philadelphia today. Why are you so late?”

  “Spring rains washed a bridge out—we had to go a long way around to another bridge—and then the courier you sent couldn’t find us.”

  Molly came down the stairs belting a robe on, and Nathan put his arms around her and kissed her. “I’ve missed you!”

  She stood in his arms, looked up into his face. He was so tall that he made her feel like a child, but there was something different about him, and she asked quickly, “Nathan—what’s happened to you?”

  He grinned down at her, then shot a look at Adam. “I could never fool her, could I, Father?”

  “Neither could I, son.” He too was staring at Nathan, and saw that there was no sign of the tension and gloom that he’d worn two weeks earlier. “Well, even I can see something’s different. You left here looking like death—but you’re not that way now.”

  “It’s not a very long story,” Nathan said, but there was a glow in his blue eyes, and excitement ran through his voice. “You were right, Father, about how I left here. I was mad and feeling sorry for myself—and I came pretty close to just leaving for good.”

  “I figured that,” Adam nodded.

  “It was in my mind most of the time. I’d made such a mess of things! If my enlistment had been up, guess I’d have done it—but I didn’t want to be a deserter on top of everything else—so I decided to wait till I was out of the army, then pull out.” His face grew sober, and he walked over to the window. The gray dawn was breaking up, and tiny shards of rose began to show in the east. He seemed to have forgotten them, and neither Adam nor Molly moved.

  Finally he turned, and they were shocked to see tears in his eyes. “It was last Sunday—April 19.” He struggled to get control of himself, then finally said huskily, “One year after—after Caleb died.”

  Molly put her hand to her mouth and turned away, and Adam set his jaw—but neither of them spoke. They had never seen Nathan so moved. He had rarely let his emotions show, but now they looked into his eyes and saw that somehow during the brief time he’d been gone, something had stripped him of the wall he’d kept between his inner self and the world. His eyes, Molly thought suddenly, are like windows. Looking into them she saw her son as she had never seen him—and she knew that Adam was seeing the same thing.

  “I didn’t even know what the date was. We’d camped beside a river, and late that afternoon one of the men mentioned that it was a year since Lexington—and it hit me hard! I walked off and left them—walking along the bank of the river. It all came back—about Caleb, and all night I just walked and walked—and cried. I never cried much, you remember? Well, I made up for it, I guess.”

  “We’ve all done our crying, son,” Adam said gently.

  Nathan shook his head and then went on. “I finally just wore out and sat down under a tree. The mosquitoes were bad, but I felt so terrible I didn’t even care! I sat there, so mad that I couldn’t even think! And I was ashamed of making such a fool out of myself—over Abigail! That, on top of grieving over Caleb, just about made me want to drown myself.”

  He stopped suddenly and looked at them so strangely that Molly asked, “What is it, Nathan?”

  He shook his head, and the words seemed hard for him. “Well, I’ve been trying to think of a way to tell you about what happened to me under that tree—but there’s no way except to just come out with it.” He sobered and there was such a look of wonder in his eyes that Molly wanted to reach out and hold him. “I’ve been looking for God so long—even tried to be a minister to please Him. Read a thousand books of theology—and then He had to get me out under a tree with the bugs about to eat me alive before He’d speak to me!”

  “You found the Lord!” Molly exclaimed, her eyes bright.

  “Not quite as dramatic as your conversion, Father,” Nathan said. “I didn’t fall down, or anything like that—but for about two hours God brought up just about everything I’d ever done—and by dawn I was just too tired to fight, so I just called on God and told Him that I wasn’t worth anything, but that if there was anything in me that He wanted—why He was welcome to it!” Then Nathan laughed and said with a joy they’d never heard: “And that’s when Jesus Christ came in and took over!”

  “Nathan! That’s wonderful!” They all turned to find Julie standing in the hall. She’d already been up and dressed when he’d come, and she’d stood there listening to him. Now she came forward and there was a light in her face as she said, “I’m so glad!”

  He stood there looking at her with a peculiar expression on his face, but he said only, “I’m glad I got here in time, Julie.”

  “I’m going to fix some breakfast,” Molly declared. “Julie, you start the coffee while I get dressed.”

  As Julie cooked, Nathan related the fine details of his experience, and soon his parents were back, drinking it all in. They ate a good breakfast, and were just finishing when there was a loud knock on the door.

  Adam got up, hesitated, then went and opened it.

  Julie’s courage almost failed her when she saw the bulk of Aaron Sampson fill the opening, and his coarse voice broke out loudly, “All right, where’s the gal?”

  Julie went at once to her room, picked up a bag containing what few things she was taking back, and returned swiftly. She saw that Adam’s face was red, and he was saying, “The coach for Philadelphia doesn’t leave until ten—!”

  Julie didn’t want to cause trouble for these people she loved, so she quickly stepped around Adam. “I’m ready.”

  Sampson was angry, and he glared at Adam. “I’ve got the papers all proper. That general has given me the runaround—but I’ll have no more of it!” He grabbed Julie by the arm and jerked her out of the door. The pain of his grip made her cry out, but he said, “None of that! You’ve cost me a mint, you baggage! But, I’ll have it back on you.”

  He was dragging her along toward the carriage he’d arrived in when suddenly his wrist was seized and Julie was plucked away from him. Sampson went reeling forward, falling heavily on the ground from a shove in the middle of his back.

  “Get out of here, Sampson!”

  The burly man looked up to see Nathan staring at him. He scrambled to his feet and cursed, but there was something deadly in the gaze that met his, so he shouted, “I’ll have the law on you!”

  Nathan asked, “Do you need help to get in that carriage?”

  Sampson was a strong man, but he had felt the power of the soldier’s grip, so he backed away, screaming, “You’ll be jailed for this—I swear it!”

  He drove off, whipping the horses and cursing all the way, and when he was down the road, the silence that fell was broken by Julie. “Nathan, you shouldn’t have done that. You’ll get into trouble.”

  “You can’t go with that man, Julie!”

  “I have to.”

  They went back into the house, and there was much talk about what to do, but an hour before the coach was to leave, Adam said, “We’ll have to go. Nathan—they’ll send as many men as they need to take her.”

  The four of them climbed into the carriage, and all too soon they were downtown. “There’s Daniel,” Molly said as they pulled up to the inn. The coach for Philadelphia was waiting, and Aaron Sampson was standing there with a tall man, obviously some sort of official.

  “There she is!” he shouted. “Now, you do your duty!”

  The officer came over as Adam pulled up and got out. “I’m Sheriff Marks, and I’ve got to ask you to surrender that young woman without making any trouble,” he said quietly. “I know how you must feel, but he’s within his legal rights.”

  While Adam was talking with the sheriff, Nathan jumped from the carriage to help his mother and Julie down. Dan hurried up to say, “Why, Nathan, you’re back
!” But he did not wait for a reply. Turning to Julie, he said, “I’ve been talking to my uncle, and he’s given me a letter to Mr. Franklin—a personal friend of his. He’s asking Franklin to get a good lawyer and to take a personal interest!”

  “Why, that’s so good of the general, Dan,” Julie said, but there was little hope in her voice. She well knew that once her uncle got her in his grip, he cared nothing for the threats of the law.

  Molly started to speak, but Nathan said loudly, “Wait a minute!” They all turned, surprised. Adam and the sheriff abruptly stopped their conversation, while Aaron Sampson threw an angry, malevolent look at him. An elderly couple about to mount the carriage paused to stare at Nathan. The driver, coming out of the inn with a large mail pouch, gave him a surprised look, thinking he was being stopped.

  Nathan had their attention, and for one brief instant they stood there, as if time had stopped. The only sound breaking the silence was the impatient stamping of the horses’ hooves. Julie had been standing between Dan and Nathan, and when he spoke she looked up at him, and her heart, struggling with fear ever since her first glimpse of Aaron Sampson in the doorway, somehow lightened.

  Nathan had said practically nothing on the way to town. He had let others do the talking, but there had been a grim perplexity on his wedge-shaped face. Now he seemed to have reached a decision. He set his feet firmly, and reached down and took a grip on Julie’s arm, his chin thrusting forward as he said, “You’re not taking her back with you, Sampson!”

  The beefy face of Sampson grew red, and he yelled, “You just try and hold her, Winslow! I got the law on my side. Sheriff, you hear what he says? Do your duty, man!”

  Sheriff Marks moved a few steps toward Nathan, took in the aggressive set of his face, but said in an authoritative voice, “Now, Mr. Winslow, you must be reasonable about this thing. I don’t like it myself, but it’s the law.”

  “The law gives him the right to take her back to his home because he’s her guardian.”

  “That’s right.”

  Nathan took a firmer grip on Julie’s arm and said, “Well, I have no objection to that—but he’s not going to be her guardian after this morning.”

  “What kind of nonsense is that?” Sampson snorted. He moved closer to Julie, then took one look at Nathan’s face and said quickly, “You get that girl in that carriage, Sheriff!”

  “No you don’t!” Nathan said. “She won’t be in his charge if she’s a married woman.” He felt Julie’s body tense, but he didn’t look at her. “That’s law, isn’t it? When a woman marries, her husband is responsible for her?”

  Sheriff Marks looked confused. He raised a hand and scratched his neck, staring first at Nathan then at Julie. “Well, I’m no lawyer, Winslow—I just—”

  Suddenly Nathan felt Julie pull away and, looking down, saw that her face was red with anger. Her eyes were snapping, and there was a tremor of indignation in her voice as she spoke to him. “And what makes you think I’d marry you, Nathan Winslow?”

  He stared down at her stupidly, for in his own mind the idea of marrying her had seemed simple, but she drew her arms together to her sides, and her enormous eyes flashed fire as she looked up at him and said through set teeth, “You needn’t stand there looking like a martyr! Oh, wouldn’t that be a great marriage—for the next forty years every time I did something you didn’t like, you’d get that look on your face: I married her to save her—now see how she pays me back!”

  “Why, it won’t be like that—!” Nathan protested.

  “Besides,” Julie ran on swiftly, “you needn’t think you’re so righteous—Daniel’s already asked me to marry him!”

  Nathan’s face went blank, and then he pivoted his head around to stare at Daniel. “Why, you can’t marry him!”

  “Oh, why can’t I?” Julie challenged, looking up at Nathan. “You think nobody would marry me except to get me out of trouble? No man would love me for myself?”

  Daniel said quickly, “My offer still stands, Julie. I don’t mind saying before everyone that I love thee. Marry me.”

  “She’s not marrying you, Greene—she’s marrying me!”

  Greene’s face flushed, and he moved around to face Nathan, his broad shoulders suddenly tense. Anger laced his mild voice as he said, “Thee don’t love her, Winslow! I’ll admit she’s in love with thee”—Nathan’s head went back and he shot a wild glance at Julie, but the Quaker went on relentlessly—”but she’ll get over that in time.”

  Sampson raised his voice, protesting, “Sheriff, do your duty!” But the officer was caught up in the drama. Julie was suddenly aware that she was the focal point of attention. Even people passing by had stopped to stare.

  The sudden flash of anger that had swept through her faded. She lowered her head, her eyes swimming with tears, and she wished that it would all be over. Then she felt a hand under her chin, and looked up to see Nathan’s face. There was a strange look in his eyes. He stared at her, and she saw him only in a blur, for the tears spilled over and rolled down her cheeks. He asked, “Is that right, Julie—what Greene said? Do you love me?”

  She blinked and saw the gentleness in him that she’d learned to love. His hands were on her cheeks, and as he held her face, memories swept through her. Finally she whispered, “Yes! I guess I always will, Nathan.”

  He was silent, and then he said, “I’ve been so mixed up, Julie. I told you about finding God on the riverbank—but I didn’t tell you what else I found.”

  “What, Nathan?” she asked.

  “After I got straight with the Lord, I found out I could think straight about other things—and all I could think about was you. I’ve been God’s worst fool about women—but somehow I know there’ll never be anyone for me—except you, Julie!”

  She knew that the spectators were leaning forward avidly, but she didn’t care. Everything around them vanished, and she saw only his face, heard only his voice. Then she whispered, “It’s just pity, Nathan—you don’t love me.”

  “I had to find out that not all people find God the same way,” he said quietly. “And I’m finding out now that not all men find love the same way—but believe me or not, Julie, I know in my heart I’ll always love you. I wish we had time!—but we don’t, because I’ll be leaving to go with Washington. But I’ll come back, Julie—and I want to come back to you—if you’ll have me!”

  Julie suddenly smiled, her face illuminated with joy, and she held her arms up, saying quietly, “I’ll have you—and you’ll have me!”

  He kissed her, ignoring Sampson’s cries of rage, and when he stepped back, they heard him say, “It ain’t legal, I tell you—I’m her guardian! There ain’t no wedding—and I’m taking her with me.”

  Sheriff Marks said regretfully, “I think he’s within his rights. Now if you were actually married, why that’d be different—but you’ll not find a minister to marry you right now, and even if there was one willing, it’d take a few days to get the papers done.” He shook his head, adding, “Have to ask you to go with this man, Miss Sampson.”

  Julie moved away from Nathan, but suddenly she heard Dan say, “I don’t think it’ll be any problem—getting thee married—if that’s what thee wants, Julie.”

  “Why, Friend Daniel,” Adam spoke up, “you heard what the sheriff said! It’d take a miracle to get them married.”

  Greene pulled a paper out of his inner pocket and held it up. “Here’s a license from General Greene authorizing a civil marriage. Boston is technically under martial law, so all licenses must be issued or approved by military authorities.”

  “Whose name is on that paper?” Sampson demanded.

  “Well, it’s not filled in yet.” He came to stand before Julie and Nathan, and there was sadness in his fine eyes but a faint smile on his face. “I thought thee might change your mind and have me at the last minute, Julie, so I had my uncle give this to me—meant to write my name on it, but—if thee are sure of this thing, all I have to do is fill in Nathan’s.”
r />   “Oh, Dan—” Julie almost sobbed, “I—don’t want to hurt you—but I love him so much!”

  “And thee, Nathan?”

  “Friend Daniel,” Nathan said quietly, “I love her now—but it’s just the beginning.”

  “Well—that’s it!” Greene said.

  “No, it ain’t!” Sampson said, his face contorted with rage. “You got a paper—but you ain’t got no preacher. Come on, get in that coach!” His thought, as Julie knew, was to get her away at once, and once they were in Philadelphia, he would force her to marry him.

  “Oh, we’ve got a minister here.” Greene smiled as they stared at him, then waved his hand. “Chaplain Daniel Greene, at thy service—fully authorized by the commander in chief of the Continental Army to perform all prescribed duties—sermons, buryings—and marryings!”

  “Daniel! Can you marry us?” Julie gasped.

  “Well, it’s not what I had in my mind—or in my heart—but I see that it’s the way God is moving.”

  Aaron Sampson’s face was pale as paste, and he whispered, “Sheriff—can he do that?”

  Sheriff Marks had a broad smile on his face. “I can’t go against George Washington and the Continental Army, can I?”

  Sampson glared at them and said, “I don’t believe it! You’ll wait till I’m gone and then back out somehow!”

  Daniel saw that the man meant it, so he said briskly, “Captain Winslow, would thee and thy wife come and stand here by the bride and groom? The rest of thee can be witnesses.”

  There was a dreamlike quality about it all, and the crowd grew larger as the party arranged itself in the street beside the coach. Julie could not believe what was happening, but there was reality in the hard squeeze that Nathan gave her hand, and she took her place with him in front of Dan, with Molly standing beside her, Adam by Nathan.

  The traffic on the street had stopped, and eager spectators crowded close to see what was happening, whispered excitedly, then pushed closer, forming a circle around the small group.