CHAPTER IX
BETTY'S ADVENTURE
"Come, Ruth, Mistress Hastings is waiting for thy fine velvet coat," andRuth looked up to see Aunt Deborah smiling down upon her; and in amoment the little girl was clinging to Aunt Deborah's arm, and askinganxiously:
"Did Mother find the mended place in her dress? Oh, Aunt Deborah! I dowish I had told her all about it!"
"Slip off the coat, dear child, and run and tell her now," said AuntDeborah, and in a moment Ruth was running across the garden to where hermother was standing with Mrs. Merrill. Mrs. Pernell smiled down at herlittle daughter, and clasping the warm little hand in her own turnedtoward the gate.
In a moment Ruth was in the midst of her story, and Mrs. Pernelllistened without a word until Ruth, breathless and almost in tears,finished by saying:
"I didn't think it would hurt the dress, Mother! I'm so sorry. And I amsorry I didn't tell you the moment you got home."
Ruth felt her hand clasped a little more closely at this; but her mothermade no response until they were in Ruth's pleasant chamber. Then Mrs.Pernell drew her little girl down beside her on the broad window-seat;and leaning her head against her mother's shoulder Ruth told of the dayshe had stayed up-stairs as a punishment for her thoughtlessness.
"Mother, you haven't said a word!" Ruth finally exclaimed, looking upanxiously. "Are you ashamed of me?"
"Why, I think I am rather proud of my little daughter," was the smilingresponse. "You set your own punishment, and I know you will stop andthink when next you plan such a masquerade party. My dress, it seems, isbut little the worse, after all; and Hero is well worth some sacrifice.Perhaps if you had not been 'dressed up' you would not have beenadmitted to General Howe's house, and might not have succeeded inrescuing Hero," said Mrs. Pernell, stooping down to kiss her littlegirl's flushed cheek.
"Oh, Mother! I do love you," exclaimed the happy child. "I'll never beafraid to tell you everything."
"Of course you will tell me everything. That is what mothers are for,"rejoined Mrs. Pernell. "And now I will take off my silk gown, and youhad best smooth your hair and make yourself tidy for supper."
"That sounds like Aunt Deborah," said Ruth laughingly. But as she obeyedher mother's suggestion she thought happily that now Mother was at homeeverything was sure to go smoothly.
When Gilbert's play was over Mrs. Hastings, although sadly troubled overBetty's "borrowings," and the ruin of her pretty bonnet, complimentedGilbert and Winifred on the success of the play; and not until she hadchatted for a few moments with Mrs. Merrill did she go to rescue hervalued mantle and the treasured velvet coat. She hoped the Englishofficer's coat was none the worse for its part in the play; and, likeBetty, she hoped to return it before it was missed by its rightfulowner; for it would be no easy matter to explain why it had beenborrowed, and she knew its loss would make serious trouble.
She noticed that her mantle was dusty and wrinkled, and that the lace onthe velvet coat was torn. The scarlet coat, however, was not to befound, and Betty had also disappeared.
Deciding that she would find her little daughter and the coat safely athome Mrs. Hastings bade her friends good-bye and started for her walkhome. But she did not find Betty there. Supper time came, and still noBetty. A servant was sent to Mrs. Merrill's to inquire for the littlegirl, but came hurrying back with the tidings that Betty had not beenseen since the end of the play.
Mrs. Merrill now looked through every room, but Betty was not to befound. She inquired at the homes of her neighbors, but no one had seenthe little girl.
The April twilight deepened to dusk; the stars shone out and found Mrs.Hastings anxious and troubled, for she could find no trace of Betty.
When Betty ran down the alley she had thought it would be an easy matterto reach home with the red coat; but she had forgotten that Philadelphiawas full of the King's soldiers, and that a bareheaded little girlracing down the street with the coat of an English officer over her armwould not escape notice; and she had only reached Second Street when apassing soldier called to her. His call only made her run the faster,and the soldier sped after her. If Betty had stopped at once, told herown name and address, and the name of the owner of the coat, the soldierwould doubtless have taken her directly home and made sure that she hadtold him the truth, and it is probable that her troubles would have beenat an end. But Betty was now too frightened to think clearly. She didnot even know the direction in which she ran was straight away from herhome. The English soldier ran clumsily, and Betty, turning quickly intoanother street, soon distanced him; but only to run straight intoanother soldier, who seized her firmly by both arms, swung her about,and without a word marched her down the street.
"Making off with an officer's coat," he said, after what seemed a verylong time to the frightened girl. "What's your name?"
Betty made no response. She resolved that no one should ever know thatBetty Hastings had been suspected of such a dreadful thing as takingwhat she had no right to take.
"Won't speak, eh? Well, I'll take you to Captain De Lance and see whathe has to say to you," said the soldier, and the silent little girl,still holding the scarlet coat, was led down one street after anotheruntil she saw the shining waters of the Schuylkill River before her, andthe soldier led her up the steps of an old stone house whose garden randown to the river. The soldier was evidently familiar with the house,for he pushed open the door and led Betty into a big pleasant room, andmotioned toward a comfortable chair.
"You can sit there until the captain comes in; and you had best tell meyour name. 'Twill do you no good to sulk," he said, taking the coat fromher reluctant grasp. But Betty only set her lips more firmly. Sheresolved not to speak, no matter what might befall her.
"Very well, Miss. I'll leave you to find your tongue," said the soldier,laying the coat carefully over a chair and leaving the room. Betty heardhim turn the key in the lock. She was tired, and leaned back in thecushioned chair, hardly realizing what had befallen her. She could hearsteps now and then outside the door, and every moment expected that itwould open and the captain of whom the soldier had spoken would appear.
But the room grew shadowy in the deepening twilight and no one camenear. Betty's thoughts flew homeward to the candle-lit dining-room whereDinah, the Hastings' colored servant, would be spreading the table forsupper, and Betty realized that she was very hungry.
She left her seat and tiptoed toward a long window at the further end ofthe room. The window looked out into the garden, and Betty instantlyrealized that it swung in on hinges and was not fastened, and that itwould be an easy matter to let herself down to the ground.
"I must take the coat," she thought, and crept back to the chair wherethe scarlet coat lay. In a moment she was back at the window and haddropped the coat to the ground; and now, grasping the window sill withboth hands, she let herself carefully down. Picking up the coat, andkeeping close in the shadow of the house, Betty made her way until shewas near the door through which she had entered the house. She went verycarefully, peering ahead into the shadows, and listening intently forany sound that might warn her that her flight had been discovered. Butshe heard no sound, and at last she reached the road.
"It is too dark for any one to know what color the coat is now," shethought, as she hurried along.
Betty realized that she was a long distance from home, but she was surethat she could soon find her way to some familiar street and then itwould be an easy matter to reach home. Now and then she passed groups ofpeople homeward bound, or English soldiers sauntering along the street,and then turning a corner she gave a little exclamation of delight, forthere, close at hand, were the brick walls of Christ Church, itsgraceful spire rising against the clear April sky. And now home was nearat hand and Betty quickened her pace. She had almost forgotten hermother's ruined bonnet and the fact that she had no excuse to give forborrowing the things for Gilbert's play without permission. All shecould think of was the fact that she was in sight of home. She ran upthe steps and the door opened a
s if by magic, and Betty's mother claspedher little girl, scarlet coat and all, in her welcoming arms.