CHAPTER XVII
At ten o'clock that night I sat in the coffee-room of the "VirginiaArms," outwardly cool enough, I trust, but terribly excitednevertheless, and scarce able to touch the food on my plate.
Heretofore, although I have always dreaded physical pain, I maytruthfully say that the prospect of it had never deterred me fromfacing necessary danger; and I can also maintain that, until thepresent moment, the possibility of disaster to me or mine had neverterrified me beforehand.
Now it was different; I seemed to be utterly unable to contemplatewith philosophy the chance of misfortune to Silver Heels, throughfailure of my plans or accident to my proper person. It was, I think,responsibility and not cowardice that frightened me; for who was thereto take care of Silver Heels if anything happened to me?
One by one I counted and discounted the dangers I ran: first, arrestat any moment as an accomplice of the notorious Jack Mount; second,assassination by Dunmore's agents; third, assassination by Butler'scompany; fourth, arrest and imprisonment as a suspected rebel and openadvocate of sedition; fifth, danger from the Cayugas after our escapefrom Fort Pitt.
Should any of these things befall me, as well they might, what in theworld would become of Silver Heels? Small wonder I found no heart toeat, though this totally new condition of mind parched me with athirst so persistent that my host, James Rolfe, was obliged to cautionme and bring me to my senses ere I had dulled them hopelessly in hisbrown home-brew.
The post-chaise, loaded and ready for a three weeks' journey, stood inthe mews with the four strong horses harnessed, and Jack Mount attheir heads. He and the Weasel were to ride as post-boys, with Shemueland I in front.
It lacked an hour yet of the time appointed, and it was the suspenseof that hour's waiting which set every nerve in my body aching. If wecould only have gone somewhere else to wait!--but where could we goand find safety from warrants in this little town where every patriotinn was known? Certainly it was better for us to endure the strainhere among sympathizers, where we could count on our host and on hisguests and on every servant from stable to kitchen.
The arms and ammunition which the Weasel had purchased were nowproperly stowed in the post-chaise. Rifles and pistols had been primedand loaded, powder-horns replenished, flint and ball fitted, and pansoiled.
Again and again I went out into the mews, leaving my food untasted,only to find Mount standing quietly at the horses' heads and theWeasel pacing up and down, plunged in reverie.
At last Shemuel appeared, slinking past the lighted inn windows andinto the mews, where we waited in the starlight, rubbing his hands andpeering about with alert obsequiousness and an apparent inability toappreciate the tension that I, for one, quivered under.
"I haff sold all my goots," he remarked, cheerfully; "my packets Ihaff stored mit my friends at dose 'Bear and Cubs.' I puy me Delawarepaskets in Baltimore--eh, Jack?"
"Here are your pistols," I said; "do you know how to use them?"
"Ach yess," he replied, with a sly smile at Mount, who grunted, andsaid:
"Shemmy is just as handy with pistols as he is with his needles. Nofear, Mr. Cardigan," and looking around, he motioned the peddler tohis side.
"I hear that the Monongahela is in flood," he said. "Is the woodenbridge all right, Shemmy?"
Shemuel did not know and went away to inquire, returning presentlyfrom the stables with the information that heavy storms had swept thesouthern mountains and the Monongahela was over its banks, but the dambelow the bridge had gone out, leaving the wooden structure safe.
"Then there won't be a ford for twenty miles," muttered Mount, "andI'm glad of it. Shemmy, just borrow four new axes of Rolfe, will you?And, say, just shove them into the boot!"
Again Shemuel disappeared, and after a short absence came trottingback with the bundle of brand-new axes on his shoulder.
"Are they ground?" asked Mount.
"You can shave mit them," said Shemuel, running his dirty thumb alongthe edges. Then he shoved them into the boot and looked cunningly upat me.
The slow minutes dragged on. Hands clasped behind me, I walked up anddown the muddy alley, twisting my interlocked fingers until every nailthrobbed. Mount smoked a cob-pipe and watched me; Renard stood apart,staring up at the stars, immersed in thought; Shemuel patteredsilently among the restive horses, thumbing the harness and poking hisprying fingers into axle and unlighted coach-lamp.
Up and down I walked, heart beating heavily, watching the mouth of thealley for a lurking spy, or a file of soldiers, or Heaven knows whatphantoms, which fancy conjured in my excited brain. But I saw nothingto alarm us, and was about to recommence an examination of the newrifle which Renard had bought me, when we were all startled by arattle of hoofs filling the square with quick echoes.
Instantly every man there reached for his rifle; the alley itselfsuddenly resounded with the clattering hoof-strokes of a hard-riddenhorse. There was a rush, a shadow, and a breathless shout from thehorseman: "Express--ho! Stand back! I pass! I pass!"
"It's an express," muttered Mount, lowering his long rifle to lean onit and watch the dark rider pull his frantic horse to its haunches andfling the bridle on the snorting creature's neck, while he turned inhis stirrups and searched his wallet by the glow of the openingkitchen door.
Rolfe, in his shirt-sleeves and apron, came out of the door, holdinghis hands up for the packets.
"Three for you, Jimmy," said the bareheaded express-rider, passing theletters over. "Draw me a pot o' beer, for Heaven's sake."
"Where is your mate?" asked Rolfe, anxiously.
"Hiram? Full of war-arrows t'other side o' Crown Gap. Here's hispouch."
"Scalped?" asked Rolfe, in a low voice.
"I reckon he is. He never knowed nothing after the third arrow. ThemWyandottes done it."
A tap-boy hurried out with the brimming pewter, and the shadowy rideremptied it at a gulp.
"'Nother, Jim," he said, stolidly.
"There's blood onto your jaw," said Rolfe, gloomily.
"Ay, they drew blood. I lost my hat"--here he swore fiercely--"and itain't even paid for, Jim!"
"You orter be glad you got through, Ben Prince," said Rolfe, grimly.
"I am--drat that boy! where's my beer? Oh, there you are, are you?Gimme the pot and quit gaping. Hain't you never seed a expressbefore?"
An admiring circle of hostlers and kitchen wenches laughedhysterically. The post-rider swaggered in his saddle and stretched outhis feet contentedly.
"Life ain't all skittles," he observed; "but beer is beer the roundworld round!" and he drained the pot and tossed it dripping to anhonoured scullion.
"News o' Boston?" asked Rolfe, meaningly.
"Plenty! Plenty! Port Bill in force; Tommy Gage on top; Sam Adamslying low; more redcoats landed, more on the way, more to come; richpoorer; poor starving; that's all!"
He gathered his bridle and winked at a coy kitchen-maid.
"Your beau has went to Johnstown, Sairy," he said; "I seen hima-training hay-foot, straw-foot, with old Sir Billy's Tryon Countymilish. That reminds me, Jim"--turning to Rolfe--"I've a packet for acertain Michael Cardigan, somewhere to be hunted up south o' CrownGap--"
"Right here!" said Rolfe, promptly, and the express passed the letterto him. Then, with a careless, "See you later!" he wheeled his horseshort and galloped back along the alley, which rang with shouts of"Good luck! Good luck! There's bed and bait for you here, Benny!"
The crowd on the steps flocked back into the kitchen, the doorclosed, then opened to let out Rolfe, who advanced towards me, letterin one hand, flaring candle in the other.
"Light the coach-lamps," I whispered, and, taking the candle andletter, sat down on a pile of pine timber to read what Sir William hadsent me:
"DEAR LAD,--By runners from the Cayuga, I know how gallantly you have conducted. Dearer than son you are to me, prouder am I than any parent. If what we had hoped and prayed for has failed--as I can no longer doubt--it is so ordained, and we s
truggle in vain. _Nitor in adversum; nisi Dominus, frustra!_
"I am holding the Mohawks back by their very throats, but mischief brews at the Upper Castle, whither Joseph (Thayendanegea) has gone with the belts from me.
"Red Jacket's conduct condemns me to uneasiness. He is an orator; the foul murder of Logan is his text. I need say no more, save that I still hold the Mohawks back.
"Colonel John Butler, his conduct concerns me, and I needs must view it with grief and alarm. His dishonoured son, Walter Butler, is still absent; the elder Butler has retired to the lakes, where I am informed he is gathering Tory malecontents and foolish young Onondagas, for what ultimate purpose I can only imagine.
"A most deadly and bitter feeling runs flood in Johnstown; nightly outrages are reported to me, and I fear that the so-called patriots are quite as blameworthy as are the loyalists. Whig and Tory hate and wait.
"Dear lad, the sands of my life are running very swiftly. I am so tired, so tired! Come when you can; I have much to talk over ere these same sands run out, leaving a voided glass in the sunlight. If you, by hazard, pass through Fort Pitt, you will accompany Felicity on her return hither, which return I have instantly commanded her by this express. I have received a singular letter from my Lord Dunmore, which has astonished me. My answer to him I delay until Felicity returns. Doubtless she will travel hither by way of Richmond. The escort, which Lord Dunmore must furnish, will, on their return journey, take with them my reply to his Lordship.
"If this letter reaches you in time, come back with Felicity; if not, come by the safe route through Richmond. Overtake her if you can do so.
"Your Aunt Molly is well and sweetly anxious to see you safe home. Esk and Peter do flourish--yet I like not Peter's haunting the public houses where things are uttered to poison young minds. I have trounced him soundly seven times, and mean to continue.
"The news from Boston is ominous. More ships are about to sail, bearing more troops and cannon. I know not how it will end! Ay--but I _do_ know, and so must every thinking man. _Praemonitus praemunitus!_
"Michael, I have had a most strange and unpleasant letter from Sir Peter Warren, who encloses with it certain amazing documents which he has carefully perused, to his great mortification and discontent. These papers were lately sent to him from Chatham dockyard, having been discovered under the cabin flooring of the war-ship _Leda_, which his brother lately commanded and which is now repairing at Chatham.
"The documents concern Felicity--and us all--and I wish you to know that I no longer approve of your union with her, at least not until both she and you are fully acquainted with the contents of these documents.
"And now, dear son, I can but wait for you to come. The house is dull without you. I have sometimes sought to drown care in the river, whither I go with gillie Bareshanks to fly-fish for trouts. But I am growing sad and old, and nothing pleases, though I do throw my flies as I did at thirty, looping each cast without a splash.
"Always y'r affectionate "WM. JOHNSON, BART.
"Post Scriptum.--On y'r return I have planned a fishing-trip to the Kennyetto at Fonda's Bush, where, report is, a monstrous trout hath been seen to jump frequently in that bend of the stream due east from the sugar bush on the hill. "W. J."
My eyes were swimming when I lifted them from the sheets of paper, nowdamp with dew. For a moment I rested my head on my hands, feeling therising tide of homesickness choking me. Then that subtle courage,which a word from Sir William ever infused, warmed my blood and calmedmy beating heart.
I rose serenely, and laid the letter to the candle's flame, watchingit burn and crisp and fall in flakes which no prying spy mightdecipher. Then I looked at my new watch, and was amazed to find thatit lacked but a few moments to the time set for our departure from the"Virginia Arms."
Rolfe had already lighted the chaise-lamps; Shemuel had crawled insidewith our weapons, and Renard sat his post-saddle, adjusting thestirrups; while Mount was preparing to climb into the saddle of thenigh leader.
"Is it dark out there in the square?" I asked of Rolfe.
"I guess the lanthorns swing a-light on every seventh," he said. "Idarkened mine, but the watchman came battering and bawling tew thedoor and made me light up again."
Mount was now in his saddle; I held my ticking time-piece under thecoach-lamp, eyes following the slow pointers travelling towards thehour.
And, as I stood there, there came creeping a woman into the alley,cloaked and bareheaded, halting and crouching to scan our chaise-lampsunder her inverted hand. Ere Rolfe or I could stop her she ran to thehorse on which Mount was sitting and caught the forest-runner by thefringe on his sleeve. Then, in the rays of the chaise-lamp, I knew herfor the thief-taker's child.
"Hoity-toity, what the devil's tew pay?" said Rolfe. "Darn the ruddledvixens who come a-drabbing into my mews, with a hussy tew hail youafoot and a baggage tew boot on the boot--"
"Keep quiet!" I said, sharply. "There's trouble abroad somewhere!"
"Oh, Mr. Cardigan," called Mount, softly, "Sir Timerson and a gang o'cudgels is coming up Pitt Street and Bully Bishop's with them!"
The girl turned her frightened face to me:
"They came for father to take Jack Mount; I ran out the back door,sir. Oh, hasten! hasten!" she wailed, looking at Mount and wringingher hands.
The big fellow stooped from his saddle and deliberately kissed her.
"Thank you, my dear," he said; "I'll come back for another before Idie. Au large, Jimmy! Up with you, Mr. Cardigan!"
"Turn those horses! Take their heads!" whispered Rolfe. "There's oneback way tew every mews, and half a dozen to this!"
The next moment I had wheeled the chaise-and-four back into thedarkness and around a rambling row of sheds and stables, followingRolfe, then to the left, then a demi-tour to the right, which broughtus up against a heavy stockade. But already Rolfe had set a creakinggate swinging loosely, and we bumped out into a field, hub-deep inbuttercups.
"I'll keep the scratch-wigs amused," whispered Rolfe, as I climbed tothe forward seat and picked up my rifle; and away we jolted across thestar-lit pasture and out into a narrow, unlighted cattle lane, whichwe followed to the bars. These Shemuel let down, popping back into thechaise like a jack-o'-box, and Mount rode our horses out into the darkBoundary Road.
There was not a soul to be seen, not a light, not a sound but the humof our turning wheels and the slapping trot of our horses.
Presently, on a dark hillock to our right, I saw lighted windowsglimmering among trees, and I called in a low voice to Mount andsprang noiselessly to the road. A lane led around the hillock to theright; up this dim path I conducted the chaise-and-four until I foundroom to turn them back, facing the Boundary Road again. Here ourchaise might lie concealed from passing folk on the highway, and hereI quietly bade Mount and Renard await me, while Shemuel held thehorses' heads.
The night was warm and fragrant under the great June stars as I passedsilently along the lane, climbed the hillock and entered the orchard.Through the dim trees I stole towards the house, where two windows onthe ground floor were lighted up.
Then, as I leaned breathless against a tree, in the distant gloom thefortress bell struck slowly, eleven times.
Second after second passed, minute followed minute, and my eyes neverleft the closed door under the pillared porch. Presently I looked atmy watch; a quarter of an hour had passed. The seconds began to drag,the minutes loitered. Time seemed to stand still in the world.
Far away in the fortress the bell struck the half-hour, and on thewest breeze came the dull cry of sentinels calling from post to postunder the summer stars.
Suddenly the dark door opened; a heavy figure appeared in silhouet
teagainst the light. My heart stood still; it was Black Betty.
The negress peered out into the darkness, north, west, south, andfinally looked up at the stars. Then, as though summoned from within,she turned quickly and entered the house, leaving the door wide openbehind her.
Impatience was racking me now; I waited until I could wait no longer;then, in the shadow of the trellis-vines, I stole up to the porch. Thehallway was empty; I stepped to the sill, crossed it, and surveyed theempty stairway and the gallery above. There was not a soul in sight.Now alarm seized me, a swift, overpowering dread which drove me on toseek and face whatever was in store for me. A door on my right stoodopen; I looked in, then entered the smaller of two rooms, which werepartly separated from each other by folding doors. Candles burned ingilt sconces; glass cabinets glittered; mirrors reflected my fulllength so abruptly that I started at the apparitions and clutched myhunting-knife.
Treading on the velvet carpet I passed into the farther apartmentwhich, by a little gallery and waxed floor, I knew to be the ballroom.Not a soul to be seen anywhere. Glancing hurriedly at the empty ranksof gilded chairs, I strove to crush out the fear which was laying icyfingers on my breast, and I had already turned to re-enter the smallerroom when I heard the front door close and voices sounding along theouter hallway. I stepped behind a gilt cabinet and drew my heavyknife, perfectly aware that I was trapped like a fox in a snap-box.
Through the carved foliage of the cabinet I saw three people enter theroom. The skin all over my body roughened at the sight of them; andwhat held me back I do not know--perhaps that kind Providence whichwatches over fools--for I began to tremble in every contracting muscleas do cats in ambush when their quarry passes unsuspecting.
There they stood in low-voiced consultation--Lady Shelton, my LordDunmore, and my mortal enemy, Walter Butler, tricked out in lace andvelvet. He stood so near to me that my hot hand could have fastened onhis throat-strings where I crouched. He turned towards Dunmore with agesture.
"Sir Timerson should find them to-night," he said; "your thief-taker,Bully Bishop, is with them, I understand."
"They are to search every rebel rat-hole in town," cried Dunmore,eagerly; "they should claw them ere dawn, Captain Butler. _Vive Dieu,nous allons les clouer en terrain bouche!_"
Lord Dunmore leered at Lady Shelton, and then contemplated his smallFrench hat as though seeking countenance for his halting tongue.
"If I am to conduct Miss Warren," said Butler, gloomily, "you had bestsee her without delay, my Lord."
His round, amber eyes of a bird were fixed on Dunmore.
"Come now," said Dunmore, slyly, "I am half minded to conduct hermyself, Captain Butler, curse me if I am not. I hear you once vowed towed her in spite of Sir William and me too! Damme, I've a notion youmean me ill, you rogue!"
"Your Lordship is merry," sneered Butler, but I saw his blank eyescontracting as he spoke.
"Faith, I am not over-merry," said Dunmore, plaintively, drawing adiamond pin from his wig and contemplating it. "I like not this nightjourney to Williamsburg, that's flat!--and I care not if you know it,Captain Butler."
"Then I pray you to release me from this duty," sneered Butler.
Dunmore eyed him askance, twirling his jewelled pin.
"If I merit your suspicions," added Butler, icily, "I beg to wish yougood fortune and good-night!" And he bowed very low and turned curtlytowards the door.
"No! Damme if I suspect you!" cried Dunmore, hastily. "Come back,Captain Butler! Oh tally, man!--is there no wit in you that you freezeat a jest from an over-fond suitor? You shall conduct Miss Warren toWilliamsburg. I say it! I mean it! Body o' Judas! am I not to followas soon as I hang this fellow Mount and his rabble o' raggedpottle-pots?"
Butler came back, and--oh, the evil in his fixed stare as his kindlingeyes fastened on Dunmore again!
"Will you be pleased--to--to receive Miss Warren immediately?" askedLady Shelton, in a flutter of jellyfied excitement. "I have herclosely watched wherever she takes a step. She has her boxes packed,the wilful child! Lud! she would have been gone these two hours hadnot Captain Butler's man caught my footman with a guinea!"
"I have a copy of her letter," squeaked Dunmore, angrily. "Faith, Icould scratch her raw for what she wrote to that dirty forest-runningfellow, Cardigan!"
"Fie! Fie!" tittered Lady Shelton, hysterically, shaking a fat fingerat the painted beau. "Over-fond lovers should forgive!"
"Curse me if I forget, though," muttered his Lordship. "If I have towait till Innocents' day, I'll birch the little baggage yet!"
He turned nervously to Butler:
"You had best attend in the ballroom, Captain Butler. Gad! I canpersuade her, I think, within the half-hour. Lady Shelton, you will bein one of your cursed twitters if you remain here, and those sametwitters set me dancing. Damme, madam! you are twittering now! Isha'n't endure it! I can't endure it! Pluck me bald if I can!"
"I--I will send her to you," stammered the dowager, curtseying in apanic.
"And stay away until you're wanted," added Dunmore, brutally.
Lady Shelton stared at him with frightened eyes; then her little fatfeet set themselves in motion, and she pattered hastily out of theroom. The men exchanged sneers.
"I'll be rid o' that ruddled sack o' lollypops now," observed LordDunmore, complacently. "Will you not take your turn, Captain Butler?No? Well, I owe thanks to Sir Timerson then. Pst! There's some one onthe stairs! Give me joy, Captain Butler, and mind you keep closedeyes, you rogue!"
Butler gave him a contemptuous stare, then swung on his heel, andbalancing his thin hand on the hilt of his small-sword, walkednoiselessly into the dim ballroom.
Dunmore stood listening, passing the diamond pin back through his wig,and shaking out the long, delicate lace on his cuffs.
Nobody came. He raised his spy-glass and tiptoed over to the mirror,primping, preening, smirking, and ogling himself, occasionally turninghis good ear to the door to listen.
Presently he began to pace the velvet, fanning his nose with a lacehandkerchief, and simpering all to himself.
The extravagance of his dress might have amused me had not my mindbeen filled with deadly thoughts. He was all in yellow, silk coat, andsilver-shot waistcoat, with breeches of gold brocade and white silkstockings. Lace tumbled in soft cascades over his claw-like fingers; awhite sash and star, set with brilliants, covered his breast; agorgeous stock glittered under the fluffy lace at his withered throat.
I noted these features, one by one, but my thoughts had flownup-stairs to seek throughout this shameful house for the dear maid whohad given herself to me.
Suddenly she appeared at the door, so suddenly that Lord Dunmorestarted from the mirror with a suppressed squeal of surprise. As forme, I quivered in my lurking-place, and for a moment could scarce seeher for the mist in my eyes.
Yet there she stood, hesitating, smiling, her hands busy with thebuckle of a travelling-coat adorned with row on row of dainty capes.Under the silvery gray coat I could see her little doe-skin shoonpeeping out. Now, with gloved hands, she began widening the hood onher head, to tie it beneath her chin, with a sidelong glance at themirror and a faint smile for her mirrored face.
Never, never had I seen her so lovely, never had her eyes so thrilledme, nor her sweet, dumb lips called to me more clearly. For a moment Ithought she had perceived me through the cabinet's gilded foliage; butmy presence was still all unsuspected.
At first sight of her hood and travelling-coat, Lord Dunmore hadscowled. Then, fascinated, he pretended to a trance and clasped hishands, rolling his rheumy eyes towards heaven. Seeing her face fall,however, he recovered quickly enough and leered at her from head totoe.
"Cruel one," he piped out in ecstasy, mincing towards her. "Cruel one,what do you ask that I may adore?"
"Your Lordship's pardon," she said, gravely; "I am here to askforgiveness."
"Granted! You have it," protested Dunmore, eagerly, leading her to achair and bowing above her as she was seated. "You hav
e grieved me,but man was made to grieve. I forgive, and give my love as guerdon."
"You are too generous," said Silver Heels, sorrowfully; "I may keeponly your forgiveness, my Lord."
She would have spoken again, but Dunmore bent his stiff joints anddropped on both knees, ogling her with watery eyes.
She half rose and drew back with a pleading gesture, but theinfatuated fool drowned her protests with his shrill prattle, andclasping his transparent hands together under the lace, pleaded hissuit so passionately that my gorge rose and I could scarce containmyself.
At last his chatter died away in miscellaneous noises, sniffs, gulps,and senile sounds; and he tried to seize her gloved hand, making aclacking smack with his thin, dry lips.
Silver Heels shrank deep into her chair, hiding her hands from himunder her chin, and begging him to rise, which he did at last,scowling his displeasure.
Then, very gravely and pitifully, she told him that she did not lovehim, that she had given her love to another, and that she could nowonly ask his forgiveness, yet never forgive herself for the wickednessshe had so wilfully practised.
He stood listening in silence at first, then his faded eyes narrowedwith fury, and in his worn cheeks, under the rouge, a sickly colourstained the flesh. The change in the man was frightful.
"D'ye mean to throw me over for that wood-running whelp, Cardigan?" heburst out. "Oh no, my lady, that cock won't fight, d'ye hear?"
The startling coarseness of the outbreak brought Silver Heels to herfeet in frightened astonishment. Horror mantled throat and cheeks withcrimson; she shrank back, catching support on a marble table besideher.
All over Dunmore's scowling visage the enamel was cracking; he pacedthe carpet like one demented, chattering and scratching at the air.
"I will not be so used! Curse me if I will!" he snarled, biting hispolished nails. "Hell's fury! madam; do you think to throw me over fora hind of buckskin? Damn me if you shall!--and Lady Shelton saw himkiss you on the knoll at that! Fine sport, madam! Fine sport! So youthink to make me the laughing-stock o' Virginia? So you write lettersto your buckskin lout and plan to run off with him in apost-chaise--eh? Damned if you shall! Damned if you do!"
"Pray--pray let me pass," gasped Silver Heels, choking with fright.
He caught the door in his hand, closing it, and planted himself withhis back against it. Then he fumbled behind him for the key, but itwas in the other side of the door.
"Oh no, not yet," he said.
"I must pass that door," repeated Silver Heels, breathlessly.
"By God, you shall not!" he cried. "You shall stay here all night,d'ye hear? Ay, and folk shall hear of it and gossip, too, and thewhole world shall know how the Governor of Virginia bundled to win aworthless wife! I tell you I mean to have you, and if you wed me notfair you shall wed me compromised, and thank me, too, for my name tocloak your shame withal!"
His voice ended in a shriek; the door behind him burst open, flinginghim forward, and Black Betty appeared, eyes ablaze and teeth bared.The next instant Silver Heels sprang through the portal, the doorbanged, and I heard the key turn on the other side with a click.
Dumfounded, I looked stupidly through the window behind me, then myheart leaped up, for there, at the foot of the garden, stood apost-chaise and four, lamps lighted, and postilions sitting theirhorses. There, too, were Silver Heels and Betty, setting foot to thechaise step. Dark figures aided them, the chaise door shut. I thankedGod silently and turned to deal with these wicked men whom He hadgiven into my hands.
Dunmore, insane with fury, was clawing at the window to raise it;Butler came swiftly from the ballroom and tried the door. Finding itlocked, he looked at Dunmore with a ghastly laugh.
"She's gone!" shrieked Dunmore. "Gone in a chaise! That black slut ofhers did it! Let me out! Let me out! I'll claw them raw! I'll pinchthem to death! I _won't_ stay here, d'ye hear?"
His voice soared into a falsetto screech, and he tore at his gums withhis nails and stamped his feet.
"Give place there!" said Butler, brutally elbowing the frantic manaside. "Let me through that window, you doddering fool! You're donefor; it's my turn now."
"What!" gasped Dunmore. Then terror blanched his face, and he began toscream: "That was _your_ chaise! You mean to cheat me! You mean tosteal her! That was your chaise, and it's gone! No! No! Damme, youshall not catch them at the gates!" And he flung himself on Butler todrag him from the open window.
"Drive on!" shouted Butler, leaning out and calling to the people inthe chaise.
Startled, I turned and stared through the window behind me. To myhorror the horses started and the chaise began to move off. Even yet Idid not comprehend that the chaise was not my own, but to see itslowly rolling away in the night terrified me, and I bounded out intothe room--barely in time, for Butler had already forced Dunmore fromthe open window and had laid his hand on the wall to hoist himselfout. Quick as the thought, I balanced my heavy knife, hilt to palm,swung forward and let it fly like lightning. The blade whistled trueand struck, pinning Butler's arm to the wall. God! how he shrieked andshrank, twisting and turning to tear the blade loose. Dunmore ranaround like a crazed rat, but I knocked him senseless with a chair,and sprang at Butler, who, writhing and ghastly pale, had just freedhis left hand of the knife. He ran at me with his sword, but Ishattered my heavy chair across his face, and seized him, meaning tocut his throat. Twist and tear and clutch as he would, he could notescape or hurt me; the coolness of murder was in my heart; I strangledhim with one hand and hunted around the floor for my knife. It wasgone, I could not find it. Then a wave of fury blazed in my brain; Ilifted the struggling wretch with both hands above my head and broughthim down on the floor, where he crashed as though every bone in himwere shattered to the marrow.
As I reeled, panting, towards the window, the key turned in the lockeddoor and Lady Shelton's frightened face appeared. When she saw me sherushed at me and screamed, but I thrust the harridan out of my path,vaulted through the open window, and ran down the orchard slope. Then,as I sprang into the lane, I almost dropped, for there, where I hadleft it, stood my post-chaise, awaiting me.
"Mount!" I shouted in terror. "Is she here?"
"Here?" he cried. "You are mad! Have you lost her?"
Through my whirling senses the awful truth broke like a living ray offire.
"Out o' the saddle!" I shouted. "She has taken another chaise. It'sButler's men! Ride for her! Ride!"
"Gone?" thundered Mount, leaping to the seat, while I sprang to hisvacant saddle. But I only lashed at the horses, and set my teeth whilethe dust flew and the pebbles showered through the flying wheels.
It seemed hours, yet it was scarcely five minutes, ere the gate-houselights broke out ahead, dots of dim yellow dancing through the dust.Now we were galloping straight into the eye of the great brasslanthorn set above the guard-house; there came a far call in thedarkness, a shadow crossed the lamplit glare, then I turned in mysaddle and shouted: "Draw bridle!"--and our four horses came clashingin a huddle with a hollow volley of hoof-beats.
"Road closed for the night!" said a sentinel, walking towards us fromthe darkness ahead, cap, buckle, and buttons glittering in thelamplight.
"A post-chaise passed five minutes ahead of us," began Mount, angrily.
"Tut! tut! my good fellow," said the sentry; "that's none o' yourbusiness. Back up there!"
"I wish to see Mr. Bevan," said I, scarce able to speak.
"Mr. Bevan's gone home to bed," said the soldier, impatiently. "Hepassed that other post-chaise at a gallop, or it would have been hereyet, I warrant you. Come, come, now! You know the law. Clear the road,now!--turn your leaders, post-boy--back up, d'ye hear!"
"I tell you I've got to pass!" I persisted.
"Oh, you have, have you? And who are you, my important friend?" hesneered, barring our way with firelock balanced.
"I am deputy of Sir William Johnson!" I roared, losing allself-control. "Stand clear, there!"
"If you move I'll shoot!" h
e retorted; then without turning his headhe bawled out: "Ho, sergeant o' the quarter-guard! Post numberseven!--"
"Drive over him!" I shouted, lashing at the horses. There was a jolt,an uproar, a rush of frantic horses, a bright flash and report. Then awheel caught the soldier and pitched him reeling into the darkness. Iturned in my stirrups, glancing fearfully at Renard, who wasrecovering his balance in the saddle behind me and lifting a firelockto the pommel.
"Shot?" I asked, breathlessly.
"No; I caught his firelock; it exploded in my hand."
"Look out!" called Mount, from his front seat on the chaise. "Thetoll-gate's right ahead! There's a camp-guard due there at midnight!Out with your coach-lamps!"
Shemuel jerked open each lanthorn and blew out the lights; darknesshid even the horses from our sight.
A camp-guard! Suppose the gate was closed! Thirty men and a drummerahead of us!
"Cut the pike!" cried Mount, suddenly. "We save six miles by the oldWilliamsburg post-road! Turn out! Turn out!"
Far ahead the toll-gate lamp twinkled through the dust; I signalled toRenard and dragged the horses into a trot, straining my eyes for thebranch road we had seen that morning. I could see nothing.
"By Heaven! the guard is gone; there's only a sentry there!" saidMount, suddenly.
"Pst!" muttered Renard. "We are the grand rounds, mind you. Answer,Jack!"
"Halt!" cried a distant sentry. "Who goes there?"
"Grand rounds!" sang out Mount.
"Stand, grand rounds! Advance, sergeant, with the countersign!" camethe distant challenge again.
"Now," muttered Mount, leaping softly to the turf, "when I call, rideup to me. Hark for a whippoorwill!"
He vanished in the darkness. I waited, scarcely breathing.
"He won't kill him," whispered the Weasel; "you will see, Mr.Cardigan, how it's done. He'll get behind him--patience,patience--pst!--there!"
A stifled cry, suddenly choked, came out of the night; the lanthorn atthe toll-gate went out and the toll-house door slammed.
"It's the keeper barricading himself," whispered Renard; "he thinksthe sentry has been surprised and scalped. Hush! Mount is calling."
"Whippoorwill! Whippoorwill!" throbbed the whimpering, breathless callacross the meadow; the Weasel answered it, and we trotted on until adark shape rose up in the road and caught at the leaders, drawing themto a stand-still.
"'Nother firelock," said Mount, shoving the weapon into the chaise andgoing back to the horses. "Here's the post-road; I'll guide you intoit." And he started east through a wall of shadow.
"Where's the sentry?" whispered Renard.
"In the ditch with his coat tied over his head and my new hanker inhis mouth. The frightened fool bit me so I scalped him--"
"What!" cried the Weasel.
"Oh, only his wig. Here it is!" And he flung the wig at Renard, whocaught it and tossed it into the chaise for Shemuel.
Mount halted the horses; Shemuel struck flint to tinder, and camearound to light the coach-lamps. Under their kindling radiance a dustyroad spread away in front of us. Mount unlocked a lighted coach-lampand went forward, holding the light close to the road surface. Severaltimes he squatted to look close into the dust.
Presently he turned and ran back to us, set the lamp in its socket,locked the clamp, and sprang into his seat. Shemuel hastily scrambledinto the chaise, stuffing the wig into his pocket.
"They've taken the turnpike!" cried Mount, cheerily. "Now, lads! Whipand spur and axle-grease! Ride, Cade! Look sharp, Shemmy, youweasel-bellied rascal! We've got them by half an hour, or I'll eat mycoon-skin cap!"
"Freshen all primings!" I called out to Shemuel, and sent my whipwhistling among the horses.
Away we bolted, chaise swaying, lamps sweeping the dusty roadsidebushes, and the gallop increased to a dead run as we whirled down anincline and out along a broad, flat, marshy road, where the joltinglamps flashed on the surface of a swift stream keeping pace with usthrough the night.
"We catch them where the pike swings south into this road," calledMount; but through the whistling wind I could barely hear him. Louderand louder blew the wind across the flats, shrieking in my ears;wetter and wetter grew the road, until the splash of the horses grewto a churning, trampling roar. Like a flash the stream turned acrossthe road; the shallow water boiled under our rush--a moment only--theninto the wet road again, with the stream scurrying on our right.
Through the pelting storm of mud I clutched bridle and whip with onehand and pushed my pistol under my shirt with the other, calling outto Renard to do the same.
"Get my axe loose from the boot, Shemmy!" cried Mount. "Draw rein,Cade! Now, Mr. Cardigan!" And he leaped to the ground and ransplashing through the road, calling out for us to follow at a walk.
Suddenly our horses' hoofs sounded hollow on a wooden bridge; themuddy planks glimmered under the coach-lamps, and, as he walked thehorses over, far below us we heard the dull roar of water pouringthrough the solid rock. Now came the echoing cracks of Mount's axe,biting the supports of the bridge, and presently Shemuel joined him,chopping like a demon.
"We lose time!" I groaned, turning to the Weasel. "Call Mount to letthe bridge go."
"We'll lose time if the bridge stands," said Renard, coolly."Dunmore's horse will take our trail sooner or later, and we may haveto wait an hour for the chaise we are chasing."
Minute after minute dragged, timed by the interminable axe-strokes.Presently the Weasel wriggled out of his saddle, ran to the boot, andhurried away, axe on shoulder, and I sat there alone in the lamplight,gnawing my lips and groaning.
But now, above the sharp axe-strokes and the deep roar of the torrent,I caught the sound of creaking timbers. Crack! Crack! Then along-drawn crackle of settling beams, ending in a crash which set theblowing horses on their hind legs. Ere I could pull them down, Mountcame running back, followed by Renard and Shemuel.
"No need to gallop now," observed Mount, shoving the axes into theboot and brushing the mud from his face. He climbed into his seat;Shemuel sought the body of the chaise, and Renard mounted the horsebehind me.
"Walk the horses," said Mount; "we are an hour ahead yet. The roadscross just below here. Cheer up, Mr. Cardigan; we'll sight them overour rifles yet. And when Dunmore's horsemen come to the bridge yonder,they'll have some twenty miles to wander ere they can cross theMonongahela to-night."
"The river is in flood; you can hear it," added Renard. "There's noford for twenty miles where a horse could live to-night."
"Lord! Won't Dunmore rage!" muttered Mount.
I had not thought of pursuit, but there was probably no doubt thatDunmore's horse were already hunting our trail somewhere between thestockade and the toll-gate. If that were so our plans must be changed,for we could not traverse Virginia with the Governor's dragoons at ourheels.
Distracted with anxiety, cold and feverish by turns, I strove toregain self-command, and in a measure succeeded. Mount was of myopinion that we must take a forest road over the mountains and makestraight for Philadelphia--on foot, if our chaise could not take us.He asked me about the Indians we might encounter, and I told him wehad nothing as yet to fear from the Lenape, who could not be bound byclan ties to take up the Cayugas' quarrel until the Mohawks rose.
"Well," said Mount, "curse them all, I say. One moccasin looks likeanother, and all redskins smell like foxes. I take your word for itthat the Lenape are afraid to breathe unless the Mohawks give themleave, so I hope we get through without a war-yelp in our ears."
"There's the Tuscaroras," said Renard, gloomily.
It was true. In my misery and torturing fear for Silver Heels, I hadforgotten the Sixth Nation, bands of whom roamed the forests north ofthe Virginia line. But reflection quieted apprehensions concerning theTuscaroras, who also must first take council with our Mohawks beforedrawing their hatchets in a Cayuga quarrel.
I explained this to Mount, who swore a great deal and shrugged hisshoulders, but nevertheless I knew he was greatly relieved.
>
"There's a wood road over the mountains," he said. "Cade knows it. Hecame that way hunting his wife at Annapolis when the British fleet putin. Didn't you, Cade?"
The Weasel turned in his saddle.
"Jack," he said, gently, "I know my wife is dead. We will never speakof her any more."
Mount was silent. Presently he jumped to the ground and came walkingalong beside my horse, one hand on my stirrup.
"I don't know," he muttered, under his breath--"I don't know whetherthat's a healthy sign or not. Ever since Cade saw your lady--MissWarren--he keeps telling me that his wife is dead, and that God hasforgiven her and has told him to do so, too. Somehow he has changed.Do you note it? His voice, now, is different--like a gentleman's.Somehow, he makes me feel lonely."
I was scarcely listening, for, just ahead, I fancied I could see asignpost which must mark cross-roads. After a moment I calledexcitedly to Mount, pointing out to him the tall post in the middle ofthe road. Behind it the moon was setting.
"Ay," he said, coolly, "that's our runway. The game will cross here inan hour or so. Sit your saddle, Mr. Cardigan; there's time to whistlethe devil's jig to an end yet."
But I was out of my saddle and priming my rifle afresh before he couldfinish.
"Poor lad," he said, pityingly. "Lord, but you're white as across-roads ghost. Shemmy, take the chaise south till you come to aspring brook that crosses the road; it's a hundred yards or so. Coverthe coach-lamps with blankets and look to the horses a bit. Cade, Iguess you had better take this side of the road with me. We want to besure o' the post-boys. Mr. Cardigan, try to shoot the driver throughthe head. There's too much risk in a low shot."
"For God's sake, be careful!" I begged them. "Remember the lady is inthe chaise. Can't you kill the leading horses--wouldn't that besafer?"
They were silent for a while. Presently Mount looked guiltily at me,muttering something about "highwayman style," but Renard shook hishead.
"Well," began Mount, combatively, "it's the safest. I can stop thechaise all alone without a shot fired if you wish."
He looked at me; there was a joyously evil light in his sparklingeyes.
"This is familiar ground to me," he said, impudently. "Cade and Istopped Sir Timerson Chank by that signpost."
After a moment he added: "Coach and six; post-boys, coachman, footmen,and guards--all armed--eh, Cade, old spark? Lord, how they gaped whenI took off my hat and invited Sir Timerson to a stroll! Do you mindthat fat coachman, Cade?--and all the post-boys agape and cross-eyedwith looking into your rifle-barrel?"
"Jack," I groaned, "I cannot endure delay. Post us, for Heaven's sake.I'm nigh spent with fright and grief."
"There, there!" said Mount, affectionately clapping me on theshoulder. "You will see your dear lady in half an hour, lad. No fearthat we will miss--eh, Cade? We shoot straighter for our friends' thanfor our own lives."
Then he bade the Weasel take his stand to the left, and posted me tothe right; he himself sat down cross-legged under the signpost--astrange, monstrous shape squatting in the light of the setting moon.
I heard the click, click, of the closing rifle-pans in the darkness,and for the twentieth time I renewed my priming, fearing the night airmight flash the powder in the pan.
The silence weighed me down; awful fear shot through and through me,stabbing my swelling heart till I quivered from head to toe. Try as Imight I could scarcely crush back the dread which sometimes chained mylimbs, sometimes set them trembling. Suppose that after all they hadgone north, risking the war-belt for a dash through to Crown Gap? Thiswas foolish, and I knew it, for they were bound for Williamsburg. Yetthe dreadful chance of their mistaking the route and plunging into aCayuga ambuscade drove me almost frantic.
I thought of Silver Heels, while straining my ears for the sound ofthe chaise that bore her. Strange, but in my excitement I found myselfutterly unable to recall her face to mind. Other faces crowded it out,and I could see them plainly, God wot!--Dunmore, falling under myheavy blow; Butler, his ghastly visage shattered, writhing with myclutch at his throat; Greathouse, as he lay in the alley with thelanthorn's light on his bloated face--enough! Ay, enough now, for inmy ears I seemed to hear the crash of Butler's bones as I had dashedhis accursed body to the floor, and I trembled and wondered what Goddid to punish those who had slain.
Punish? Perhaps this was my punishment now--perhaps I was never to seeSilver Heels again! Terrible thoughts gathered like devils andclamoured at my ears for a hearing, and I lay on the wet grass,listening and staring into the night, while my dry lips burnt with thefever that consumed me. Around me the darkness seemed to be rockinglike water; my head swam as if invisible tides were ebbing through it.Again and again I seemed to be falling, and I started to find my eyeswide open and burning like fire.
Suddenly a faint, far sound in the night stilled every pulse. I sawMount slowly rise to his feet and step into the shadow of thesignpost. The whispering call of a whippoorwill broke out from thebushes where Renard lurked, and I stood up, icy cold but calm, eyesfixed on the darkness which engulfed the road ahead.
Again the distant sound broke out in the stillness; it came again,clear and unmistakable. Now the noise of rapidly galloping horsessounded plainly; wheels striking stones rang out sharp and clear; twolights sparkled in the distance, growing yellower and bigger, whilethe road beneath flashed into sight in the advancing radiance.
On, on they came, horses at a heavy gallop, chaise swinging andlurching, right into the cross-roads. Then a blinding flash and crashsplit the gloom, echoed by another, and then a third. I leaped from mycover into a frantic mass of struggling horses which Renard wasdragging violently into the road-ditch, while Mount, swinging hisrifle, knocked down a man who fired at him and beat him till he laystill.
A shadowy form leaped from the seat in front and ran across my path,doubling and disappearing into the darkness; another slid from hishorse, sinking to the ground without a sound, though the crazed animalkicked and trampled him into the mud.
As I sprang to the chaise, I saw the driver lurch towards me, and Iaimed a blow at him with my rifle, but he pitched off heavily, landingin a heap at my feet, face downward in the grass. Now the horses swungin front of me, plunging furiously in the smashed harness; crash!went a wheel; the chaise sank forward; a horse fell.
"Look out! Look out!" shouted Mount, behind me, as I ran to theswaying vehicle.
"Silver Heels!" I cried, tearing at the door of the chaise.
For a second I saw her terrified face at the window; her cry rang inmy ears; then the door burst open and Wraxall sprang out, burying hisknife in my neck.
Down we went together, down, down into a smothering darkness that hadno end, yet I remember, after a long, long time, looking up at thestars--or perhaps into her eyes.
Then my body seemed to sink again, silently as a feather, and my souldropped out, falling like a lost star into an endless night.