CHAPTER VII
"A TRAITOR'S DEED"
It was one of those May evenings that promise that summer is close athand. The air was soft and warm; there was no wind, and in the clearstarlight Rebecca could see the shadows of the tall elm tree near theblacksmith shop, and the silvery line of the softly flowing river. Asshe stood waiting for Lucia she looked up into the clear skies andtraced the stars forming the Big Dipper, nearly over her head. Low downin the west Jupiter shone brightly, and the broad band of shimmeringstars that formed the Milky Way stretched like a jeweled necklace acrossthe heavens. The little village slept peacefully along the river's bank;not a light was to be seen in any of the shadowy houses. A chorus offrogs from the marshes sounded shrilly through the quiet. In years tocome, when Rebecca heard the first frogs sounding their call to spring,she was to recall that beautiful night when she stole out to try andsave the town, as she believed, from being fired on by a Britishgunboat.
She had made so early a start that she had to wait what seemed a verylong time for Lucia, who approached so quietly that not until shetouched Rebby's arm did Rebby know of her coming.
"I am late, and I nearly had to give up coming because Mother did notget to sleep," Lucia explained, as the two girls hurried down to theriver. "She is so worried about Father," continued Lucia; "she says thatsince the Americans defeated the English at Lexington they may drivethem out of Boston as well."
"Of course they will," declared Rebecca, surprised that anyone couldimagine the righteous cause of America defeated. "And if the Englishgunboat comes in here the Machias men will capture it," she added.
"Well, I don't know," responded Lucia despondently. "But if it destroyedthe town there wouldn't be anyone left to capture it; and that is why wemust push that liberty tree offshore."
The girls were both strong, and Lucia had brought a sharp knife withwhich to cut the rope holding the tree to a stake on the bank, so itdid not take them long to push the tree clear of the shore. They founda long pole near by, and with this they were able to swing the libertytree out until the current of the river came to their aid and carried itslowly along.
"How slowly it moves," said Rebecca impatiently, as they stood watchingit move steadily downstream.
"But it will be well down the bay before morning," said Lucia, "and wemust get home as quickly as we can. I wish my father could know thatthere will not be a liberty pole set up in Machias."
Rebecca stopped short. "No liberty pole, Lucia Horton? Indeed there willbe. Why, my father says that all the loyal settlements along the Mainecoast are setting up one; and as soon as the old British gunboat is outof sight Machias will put up a liberty tree. Perhaps 'twill even be setup while the gunboat lies in this harbor."
"Well, come on! We have tried to do what we could to save the town,anyway," responded Lucia, who began to be sadly puzzled. If a libertytree was so fine a thing why should her father not wish Machias to haveone, she wondered. Lucia did not know that her father was even thenbargaining with the British in Boston to bring them a cargo of lumber onhis next trip from Machias, in return for permission to load the _Polly_with provisions to sell to the people of the settlement, and that,exactly as Lucia had heard him predict, an armed British gunboat wouldaccompany the sloops _Polly_ and _Unity_ when they should appear inMachias harbor.
The two friends whispered a hasty "good-night," and each ran in thedirection of home. Rebby pushed the big door open noiselessly, but shedid not try to replace the bar. As she crept up the stairs she couldhear the even breathing of her father and mother, and she slid into bedwithout waking Anna, and was too sleepy herself to lie long awake.
The unfastened door puzzled Mr. Weston when he came down-stairs atdaybreak the next morning. "I was sure I put the bar up," he thought,but he had no time to think much about trifles that morning, for, as hestood for a moment in the doorway, he saw Paul Foster running toward thehouse.
"Mr. Weston, sir, the liberty pole is gone," gasped the boy, out ofbreath. "The rope that held it to the stake was cut," he continued."Father says 'tis some Tory's work."
Mr. Weston did not stop for breakfast. He told Mrs. Weston that he wouldcome up later on, as soon as he had found out more about the missingliberty tree; and with Paul beside him, now talking eagerly of how hisfather had gone with him to take a look at the pine sapling and found notrace of it, Mr. Weston hurried toward the shore where a number of menwere now gathered.
Anna had hard work to awaken Rebby that morning, and when she cameslowly down-stairs she felt cross and tired; but her mother's firstwords made her forget everything else.
"We will eat our porridge without your father," Mrs. Weston saidgravely. "A terrible thing has happened. Some traitor has made way withthe liberty tree that your father and Paul selected yesterday."
"Traitor?" gasped Rebby, who knew well that such a word meant the lowestand most to be despised person on earth, and could hardly believe thatwhat she had supposed to be a fine and brave action could be a traitor'sdeed.
"Who else but a traitor would make way with our liberty pole?"responded Mrs. Weston. "But do not look so frightened, Rebby. Sit up tothe table; when your father comes home he will tell us who did the baseact. And we may be sure Machias men will deal with him as he deserves."
But Rebecca could not eat the excellent porridge; and when her motherquestioned her anxiously she owned that her head ached, and that she didnot feel well.
"I'll steep up some thoroughwort; a good cup of herb tea will soon sendoff your headache," said Mrs. Weston, "and you had best go back to bed.Maybe 'tis because of the birthday cake."
Rebecca made no response; she was glad to go back to her room, where sheburied her face in the pillow, hardly daring to think what would becomeof her. Supposing Lucia should tell, she thought despairingly, sayingover and over to herself, "Traitor! Traitor!" So that when Anna camesoftly into the room a little later she found her sister with flushedface and tear-stained eyes, and ran back to the kitchen to tell hermother that Rebby was very ill.
It was an anxious and unhappy morning for Rebby and for her mother, forMrs. Weston became worried at the sight of her daughter's flushedcheeks and frightened eyes. She decided that it was best for Rebecca toremain in bed; and, had it not been for the frequent doses of bitterherb tea which her mother insisted on her drinking, Rebby would havebeen well satisfied to hide herself away from everyone.
Anna helped her mother about the household work, thinking to herselfthat probably Melvina Lyon was doing the same. After the dishes had beenwashed and set away Mrs. Weston suggested that Anna should run down toLuretta Foster's.
"'Twill be best to keep the house quiet this morning, and you can seethe rabbits," she added.
"But, Mother! I am not noisy. Do I not step quietly, and more softly?"pleaded Anna. She was quite ready to run off to her friend's, but shewas sure her mother must notice that she was no longer the noisy girlwho ran in and out of the house singing and laughing.
"Well, my dear child, you have been 'Anna,' not 'Dan,' for a week past.And I know not what has turned you into so quiet and well-behaved agirl," responded her mother. "But run along, and be sure and inquire ifthere be any news of the rascal who made way with the liberty tree."
Anna started off very sedately, measuring her steps and holding her heada little on one side as she had noticed that Melvina sometimes did. Shewas thinking of Rebby, and what a pity it was to have to stay indoorswhen the sun was so warm, and when there were so many pleasant things todo. "I will go over on the hill and get her some young checkerberryleaves," resolved Anna, remembering how Rebby liked their sharp flavor.Then she remembered that the rabbits were to be named that morning; and,forgetting all about Melvina, she ran swiftly along the path, beginningto sing in her old-time manner.
Luretta was watching for her, and smiled happily when she heard Anna'svoice. "Oh! She's going to stay 'Danna,' and not be like that stuck-upMelvina Lyon," she thought with delight; for Luretta
did not think Annawould make a satisfactory playmate if she were going to change into aquiet, well-behaved girl like the minister's little daughter.
In a few minutes the girls were beside the box that held the captiverabbits, who looked up at them with startled eyes. Paul had brought abasket of fresh grass, and some bits of tender bark and roots on whichthe little creatures were nibbling.
"I do wish they were not exactly alike," said Anna.
But Luretta declared that she thought it was much better that way."Because I should want you to have the prettiest one, and you would wantme to have the prettiest one, and how could we ever choose?" sheexplained; and Anna acknowledged that perhaps it was better that therabbits should be alike in every way. After much discussion of namesthey decided that the rabbits must be called as nearly alike aspossible; and so the new pets were named "Trit" and "Trot."
Every little child in the neighborhood enjoyed a visit at Luretta'shome. In the first place because of Mrs. Foster's pleasant smile andkind welcome, and also because of the wonderful treasures it contained.There was a great round ostrich egg, which Mr. Foster's brother hadbrought from far-off Africa. This egg was carefully kept in a wooden boxon the high mantel shelf; but Mrs. Foster was never too busy to take itdown and let the little visitor gaze at it with admiring eyes. Thenthere was a model of a water-mill, with its tiny wheels, as complete asif it could begin work at once. This stood on a table in the corner ofthe sitting-room, where anyone might stand and admire it, and hearLuretta or Paul tell that their father had made every bit of it himself.Besides these treasures Mrs. Foster, with a pair of scissors and a bitof paper, could make the most beautiful paper dolls that any little girlcould wish to possess; and whenever Luretta's friends came for a visitthey usually took home a paper doll, or perhaps a bird cut from paper,or a horse. So Anna was ready to leave even the beautiful rabbits and goindoors. But this morning Mrs. Foster did not seem her usual cheerfulself.
"This is sad news about our liberty tree; but the men have set out inboats to search for it, and 'twill be a good omen indeed if they findand bring it back," she said.
"My father says 'twill be a great day for the settlement when 'tis putup," said Anna, looking longingly toward the box on the high mantel, andhoping she might have a look at the wonderful egg.
"And so it will be. With Boston in the hands of the British, and nosafety on land or sea 'tis time each town showed some mark of loyalty,"declared Mrs. Foster. "I will put on my sunbonnet and we will walk tothe wharves, and perhaps hear some news of the traitor who made way withit. I said at first maybe 'twas the mischief of some boy who did notrealize what the tree stood for; but Paul flared up at once and saidthere was no boy on the coast of Maine who would do such a thing, unless'twas a young Tory; and we know of no Tory here."
As they neared the wharf they heard a loud cheer from a group of men,and could see that a boat, rowed by Mr. Weston and Mr. Foster, wascoming rapidly toward the shore and behind it trailed the fine pinesapling.
"And there comes Parson Lyon with his little daughter," said Mrs.Foster. "He is as good a patriot as General Washington himself," sheadded admiringly.
As Mr. Lyon came near the little group he stopped for a moment.
"May I leave my daughter with you?" he asked. "I wish to be one of thosewho lift that sacred tree to safety." And he hurried on to the wharf,leaving Melvina, who stood smiling delightedly at this unexpectedmeeting with Anna.