“Oh Lord! How selfish I am. I ought not to ask it of you, but—could I go alone?”
“No. Jonathan would never forgive me if I let you. Nor I myself, for the matter of that. What a pity it is—”
“Yes, is it not?” In the curiously strong friendship that had sprung up so fast between them, she felt no need to pretend not to understand him. “Only—if he’d not married Arabella, there’d be no Sarah.” Tears caught at her throat again.
“And you would think that so unfortunate?”
“Oh, yes! You’ve not met her, have you? I know she’s a difficult child, but it’s—” how to explain? “It’s because she has so much, I think. She’s—she’s extraordinary, Mr. Hillingford. No; whatever happens, I’ll never be sorry about Sarah.” And then. “I hope.”
“Very well.” He answered the appeal in the last two words. “We leave in ten minutes. I’ll tell Mrs. Ellicott.” Kate was alone in the dining room when the quiet knock came at the front door. Her hand shook so much as she lighted herself into the hall that the flame of the lamp wavered dangerously. She put it down and struggled with trembling fingers to shoot back the big bolt. Suppose it was not...
She swung the door open. “Jonathan!” She went into his arms as if it was the most natural, the most inevitable thing in the world.
He held her there for a long, breathless minute, his lips in her hair. “Kate!” But now he had remembered, now he was pulling her gently over the threshold, closing the door behind him, trying for a light note. “I told you there was no need to worry. See; not a scratch on me.” Just for a moment, his hand still held hers, telling her all the things he would not; then, gently, reluctantly, he let her go. There was nothing, after all, to say.
“And Barney?” she asked.
“Wounded.” It hurt him to say it. “Not seriously, please God. He made us leave him; said the English would look after him and the other wounded. We had our duty still to do. Duty! A duty to flee, to run away! I tell you, I’m ashamed. They’re not even making a stand at the Capitol. They could have held out there for hours; but it’s all of a piece. Do you know what Winder said to Stansbury’s artillery this morning? ‘When you retreat,’ he said, ‘take notice that you retreat by the Georgetown Road.’ When you retreat! With a commander like that, small wonder that nothing was done as it should be. Think of leaving the bridge at Bladensburg for the enemy to cross! They might as well have put up notices saying, ‘Welcome to Washington.’ They’ll be here any minute: here, in the capital of the United States. Kate, it’s more than I can bear.”
“I know. I feel it myself.” It was true. “But, Jonathan, all the more reason why we should go at once to look for Sarah. Mrs. Ellicott’s had no luck today, but I’m sure they must be somewhere in town. If we don’t find them tonight—”
“I’ll go to General Ross in the morning.”
“Ross?”
“The English general. He’s one of Wellington’s men; a gentleman, not a blackguard like Admiral Cockburn. His soldiers have been meticulous, I’m told, about private property; none of the wanton damage Cockburn’s sailors have done. He’ll not connive at kidnapping and adultery.”
“I’m relieved to hear it.” This, dryly, from Hillingford who had just come through from the servants’ quarters. “Jonathan! I’m delighted to see you safe.” He handed him a note. “This has just come for you. Mrs. Ellicott could not make the messenger stay, but he came from Carter’s Hotel. I told you there would be another message.” This to Kate, as Jonathan rapidly read the brief note.
“You were right, Kate.” Jonathan crumpled the paper in his hand. “They’re still in town. At Carter’s Hotel. Have been since yesterday. Damn him! He knows there’s nothing legally I can do tonight with the town in this chaos. He gives me one last chance? A straight exchange. Tonight at the hotel. The money they asked for—at least they’ve not put up their price—for Sarah. You’ve got it for me, Hillingford?”
“Of course. It’s come high, to get it in cash, with things as they are, but I managed on Monday, just before the Banks sent away their specie. But can you trust them?”
“Trust them! Of course not.” He was marshaling his plans. A quick, considering glance for Hillingford, who looked frailer than ever today, and he turned to Kate. “I shouldn’t ask this, but I must. Will you come with me and wait outside with the money, until I’m sure they do not plan any kind of trick? My days of trusting those two are gone forever.”
“You’re right, of course,” said Hillingford. “But let me come, Jonathan.”
“No.” Jonathan and Kate said it simultaneously, but she went on. “You must let me, Mr. Hillingford. I love Sarah. I feel ... I’ve felt all day that she needs me. I must go. After all, Jonathan will be there to protect me.”
“Not when you are waiting outside. Suppose the English should come then?”
“I’m English myself, remember.” How long had she been modulating into American without even realizing she was doing so?
“Of course. So you are. But, wait a minute.” He dived back through the servants’ door and returned with a small pistol. “Mrs. Ellicott’s been carrying this but I think you should have it tonight. It might give you time to convince an English soldier that you are English. Do you know how to use it?”
“My husband taught me.” She shivered. Oh, Jonathan: my dead husband; your living wife.
“Mrs. Ellicott carried it in this.” Hillingford handed her a big embroidered handbag. “She said it made her feel much safer. It’s loaded, of course.”
“But for God’s sake don’t use it,” said Jonathan. “Let’s go, Kate. With luck, we may have Sarah back here before the English take over the town. Even unopposed, it will take them some time. Are you ready?”
“Of course.”
“Good.” He turned back to Hillingford. “Whereabouts is Carter’s?”
“On 18th Street. Not far from the Octagon House. Jon; do you think it’s safe?”
He shrugged. “God knows. Kate and I don’t much care, do we, Kate?” He held out his hand to her.
“Not much.” She smiled and took it. Just for tonight, its pressure told her, they would pretend, in the face of danger, that there was a future for them. Tomorrow would be time enough to face the truth.
Hillingford had disappeared into his study to return with a green lawyer’s bag. “There’s the money, Jon. All of it. Don’t give it to them if you don’t have to.”
“I won’t.” Jonathan swung open the big front door. “Look! The English are here.”
“Oh, no!” From where she was standing, Kate, too, could see the red glow that lit the sky in the direction of the Capitol. “Jon! The Capitol? They can’t have?”
“No? Remember York. Remember what we did there.” The “we,” the assumption that she was an American like the rest of them, brought a mist of tears to her eyes. “When will it end?” she asked.
“God knows.”
The streets were quieter. “Our soldiers must be safe in Georgetown by now.” Jonathan was still somehow holding her hand, and there was extraordinary comfort in his touch. “At least there should be no brawls, no skirmishes. If we are stopped by the English, I’ve been with you all day, Kate. I had nothing to do with the fighting. I’m just a simple New England businessman.” Indescribable bitterness in his tone. “They’ll pass me as that. After all, we have as good as been their allies.”
“Don’t mind it so much.” They were hurrying down 16th Street hand in hand. “After all, how were you to know?”
“You did. You’ve been telling me all the time. Quietly, without making a fuss over it, you’ve been telling me.”
“What?”
“That war is everybody’s business. That one can’t choose to stay on the sidelines when one’s country is at stake. Why do you think I have been working so hard to oppose this mad idea of a New England secession from the Union but because of you, of what you taught me! Kate, whatever happens, you will remember, won’t you, that you’ve changed
me, changed everything for me?”
“Thank you. I’ll remember.” She was glad that it was dark and he could not see the tears that streamed down her face. But there was something she needed to know. “Jonathan, when you got back to Penrose and found me gone, what did you think?”
“Think? Why, that you’d gone after Sarah, of course, somehow, and had no chance to leave a message. It gave me hope, a little, though I was afraid for you. Why? What should I have thought?”
She gave a shaky laugh. “Why, just that. Only I was afraid—”
It was his turn to laugh. “That I’d jump to the wrong conclusion as usual? Oh, Kate, I don’t blame you, but never again, not where you are concerned. I feel so ashamed ... I should have known ... If you’ll only forgive me—”
“Of course.” But what was the use? Any minute now they would reach Carter’s Hotel, and Arabella. “Jon, what are you going to do when we get there?”
“Do?”
“About Arabella.”
He turned to her in the darkness. His hand was warm on hers. “Make her come home with me. I have to. You know that, don’t you?”
“Yes, Jon, I know.” Now was the moment to tell him of her plan for herself and Sarah. But they had just come in sight of the President’s house. She caught her breath. “Look!” A dark crowd surged around it. As they watched, a single tongue of flame lit up one of the downstairs windows. Then came another, and another, throwing up the shape of the house against the sky. And a hoarse, horrible roar of pleasure from the crowd.
“Jon! It’s monstrous. Mr. Madison’s house. How could they?”
“War is monstrous,” he said. “I’ve learned my lesson. All my lessons, God help me.” They had reached I Street now. “We’d better cut over to 18th Street here,” he said. “Keep close to me, Kate, whatever happens.”
Hurrying along I Street, they could still hear shouting, and the harsh crackle of fire from the direction of the President’s house. “I always thought it comic, somehow, when people called it the palace,” said Kate. “It doesn’t seem so funny now. Jon, do you think they’ll have got to Carter’s?”
“I don’t see why they should have. Anyway, Ross will spare private property, I’m sure.”
“Even with Cockburn there to egg him on? Jon! What’s that?” Her voice had been drowned for a moment by a violent series of explosions from somewhere toward the river.
“I expect they’re blowing up the powder magazines at the Navy Yard. Well, you can’t blame them for that: it’s a military installation. But, look, all the government buildings are burning.” And indeed as she looked back, the red glow of many fires lit up her face. “Think of the records, the books that will be destroyed tonight,” he went on. “There was an admirable library at the Capitol: I’ve used it myself. We’re losing our history tonight.”
“Or finding it?”
“Perhaps. Ah—this must be 18th Street. Oh, my God!” The exclamation was forced from him by the sight of the crowd around a building a little way down the other side of the street. Here, too, flames were just beginning to appear in the ground floor windows, and by their light they could see people milling around below; others leaning out of upstairs windows, throwing things down. He began to run.
“Jonathan!” It was hard to keep up with him. “It’s not Carter’s?”
“I’m afraid so.”
“But why?”
“Not the English. Looters, I expect.” One end of the ground floor was burning furiously now. “It must have started there, on the porch.” He stopped for a moment, panting, on the outskirts of the crowd. “There must be stairs at the other end.” Still holding her hand, he began to work his way forward.
“You’re not going in? They’ve probably escaped already.” The words came out staccato, in breathless gasps.
“Suppose they left Sarah behind? They’re capable of anything. I must make sure.” Reaching the front of the crowd, he paused to look down at her, his face illuminated by the flames so that she could see every feature. “Hold this.” He handed her the bag of money. “And wait for me here. And, Kate, whatever happens, remember I loved you.”
“Jonathan!” She could feel the heat of the fire on her face. How could she let him go in there? Instinctively, she put out a hand to hold him back, then paused, head up, listening. “Kate!” She had heard the voice only twice before, but recognized it instantly. “Kate!” it came again.
“Sarah!” They both looked up to see a small dark figure leaning out of an upstairs window at the end of the house away from the fire.
It changed everything. “Go, Jon. Hurry! I’ll stay here. And—God speed you.” And then, as loud as she could against the noise of crowd and flames, “Wait there, Sarah, your father’s coming.”
The crowd was thinning. Standing there, with unnoticed tears streaming down her cheeks, Kate watched Jonathan’s tall figure disappear into the blazing building. She was praying and did not know it. Looking up, she could still see Sarah’s small figure at her window, but looking inward now, as if expectantly. Then she vanished. Could Jonathan have reached her so soon? Please God he had. Already fire showed at the windows below. It would be a near thing.
“What a pleasant surprise.” The voice, Manningham’s voice, close behind her made her start and turn away from the burning building. “Do you know,” he went on, “I’m delighted to see you, Mrs. Croston. I was really afraid for you, though I made the knots as loose as I dared. But poor Arabella was a bad woman to cross, as I’m sure you know as well as I do.”
“Was? What do you mean?”
He shrugged. “It’s a pretty safe assumption. I’ve never been so surprised. Arabella, of all people.”
“What do you mean? What happened?”
“She took the bit between her teeth; that’s what happened. We only had to come downstairs and out when the fire started, but would she? Not Arabella. Of course it was a pity I’d locked the little hellcat in, but what else could I do, with her carrying on so? Her room was at the other end. There wasn’t a chance. The corridor was full of smoke, but Arabella would go.”
“And you let her?”
“What else could I do? No time for arguing. One minute she was there, shouting something about ‘not again,’ the next she was gone, right into the smoke. Well, there it is. Poor Arabella ...” He was silent for a minute while she took it in. “I wonder—is it any good to try to persuade you? No,” with his charming laugh, “I can see it isn’t. Well, I don’t blame you, Kate, though it’s a pity: we’d make a fine pair, you and I. Never mind, here’s my consolation.” His hand shot out and tore the lawyer’s bag from under her arm. “Obliging of Mr. Penrose. I really hope he gets to that mad child of his in time. But just in case he does—and gets her out, which seems even less likely, I’ll take my leave of you, Mrs. Croston, for good.”
“No!” While he was talking she had had time to feel in her bag for Hillingford’s gun and bring it out, cocked and ready. “Don’t move, Mr. Manningham. It would give me pleasure, right now, to shoot you where you stand.” So far, what had passed between them had gone unnoticed by the people around, whose attention was fixed on the blazing building. Now she raised her voice. “Help!” she cried. “That man has robbed me. Stop him!” Her first shout, pitched still too low, was lost in the roar of the fire, but a few heads turned inquiringly, as if they had half heard something. She shouted again louder, and this time a couple of burly men turned, saw the tableau she and Manningham made in the light of the fire, and came to her help. One of them caught Manningham by the arm that held the bag.
“Robbed you has he? Of this? Money, I reckon.” He weighed the bag thoughtfully in his hand before giving it back to her. “You’re in luck tonight, ma’am. But what shall we do with him? There’s no law and order in Washington right now, unless you call what the English are doing law.” He spat expressively. “But, things being as they are, shall I just let him go and be done with it?”
She had been half turned away to gaze anxiousl
y at the hotel. Flames showed everywhere on the ground floor now. If Jonathan did not come soon ... What did she care for the money? “Oh yes, by all means let him go,” she began to say, but her voice was drowned by Manningham’s.
“You’d best let me go,” he said, “and look sharp about it. And give me back my money too which that hussy pretends is hers. Don’t you see she’s no better than she should be? What other kind of woman would be out tonight?”
“He might have something there, I reckon.” This was the second man, who had remained in the background so far. “The lady’s mighty anxious about something, sure enough. But what? Maybe we’ve been just a mite hasty.”
“Of course you have.” Manningham pressed home his advantage. “Take me to the English general, if you like. I know him. He’ll vouch for me.”
“Will he now?” The first man took a firmer grip on his arm. “I calculated you spoke pretty funny, mister, and now I know what it is. You’re a dadblasted murdering blackguard of an Englishman, and I’ll see you damned before I let you cheat this lady out of what I have no doubt is hers.”
He raised his voice on the word Englishman, and at the same time a lull in the roaring of the fire let it carry clearly among the crowd. Other voices picked it up. “An Englishman! An Englishman!” A growl at first, it swelled to a threatening roar. “Look what they’ve done to us!” The crowd pressed closely round them. “Look at the President’s palace burning, and the Capitol, and, here, Carter’s Hotel that never did worse than overcharge a bit for their drinks. What do you say, boys, what shall we do with this Englishman?”
“Tar him and feather him.” A voice from the back of the crowd.
“I reckon that would take too long.” The two men now each held an arm of Manningham’s and turned him so that he was facing the burning building. “Let him have a taste of his own medicine, I say. Throw him in the fire.”
“No, no! I tell you, it’s all a mistake!” Manningham writhed in their grasp, his face ghastly in the reflected glow of the fire. “Kate! Mrs. Croston! Tell them I’m innocent: I’ve done nothing.”
Here Comes a Candle Page 25
