CHAPTER XXI
My journey to Albany was slow, easy, and uneventful; I spared Warlockbecause of his added burdens, though he would gladly have galloped theentire distance, for the poor fellow was bitterly ashamed of playingpack-horse and evinced the greatest desire to finish and have donewith it as soon as convenient.
His mortification was particularly to be noticed when he met otherhorses: he would turn his head away when he passed a pretty mare, hewould hang his head when gay riders cantered past, and, when he met apeddler's horse, he actually shuddered.
But Warlock need not have taken it so to heart: he was the peer of anyhorse we met, which truly is no great recommendation, for the peopleof Albany do exhibit the most sorry horseflesh I have ever seen, andso Sir William had always said, laughing frequently at the patroons'nags until Sir Peter Warren wrote him to be careful else he mightoffend the entire town.
As for Albany itself I found it very large, though smaller than NewYork or Boston, they said, and I marvelled to see so many troops invarious bright uniforms hitherto unfamiliar to me. The peoplethemselves were somewhat stupid, being full o' Dutch blood andfoodstuffs, and appeared somewhat mean in their dealings withstrangers, though they call this penny-clipping thrift. Still, gentleblood never yet warmed at the prospect of under-feeding a stranger tosave a shilling, and I found myself out of touch with those honestburghers of Albany who crowded the sleepy tap-room of the "Half-MoonTavern" where I lodged.
I had no great difficulty in finding Peter Weaver, or in recommendingmyself to his good offices. He informed me that my uncle, Sir TerenceCardigan, was dying o' drink in Ireland, and wished me to go to him.I politely declined, and told him why. He was a pleasant, kindly,over-fed man, somewhat given to long and pointless discourse, yet agentleman in bearing and a courteous friend. In his care I depositedmy childish treasures for safe-keeping, taking with me only threeextra articles, namely, my silver-gray clothes with underwearbefitting, Sir William's leather book, and the knot of ribbon fromSilver Heels's sleeve.
In Albany I bought a ring of plain gold to fit half-way on my littlefinger, judging Silver Heels's finger to be of that roundness. I alsopurchased a razor, though I had no present use for such an article.Still, I could not tell how soon my cheeks might require it, and itwould not do to be caught unawares.
I stayed but one day in Albany, paying dearly for bait at the"Half-Moon Tavern," but my joy in my freedom and my happiness inexpectancy left no room for rancour against these stolid, thriftypeople who, after all, were but following the instincts of theirbreed.
Sir William was the most liberal man I had ever known, always cautiousin condemnation, though he unknowingly did poor Cresap injustice; butI have often heard him say that to choose between the Dutch and theFrench for thrift and ferocity was totally beyond his power.
What I have seen of the Dutch or of those in whose veins runs Dutchblood confirms this. Since the Spaniards perpetrated their crimes inthe New World, no people have ever been guilty of such shocking savagerytowards the Indians as have the Dutch. Placid, honest in their ownfashion, cleanly, sober, almost passionless, they yet have, deepwithin them, a ferocity and malignity scarcely conceivable--scarcelycredible unless one has read that early history of their occupationhere, of which little of the truth now remains on record.
The Albany people appear to have little sympathy to spare forunfortunate Boston. However, of that I cannot speak with authority,seeing that the whole town is soldier-ridden, and Tories everywhereholding forth in tap-room and marketplace. Besides, a company ofColonel John Butler's irregulars and a body of ne'er-do-well Onondagaswere camped across the river, and their behaviour to the countrypeople is drunken and scandalous.
Before I left Albany to set out on the Boston high-road, I visited Mr.Livingston's house, knowing that such a courtesy I owed for SirWilliam's sake, yet scarcely pleased at the prospect of again meetingMrs. Hamilton. However, I had my journey for my pains, Mr. Livingstonbeing lately deceased, and Mrs. Hamilton having left the day before tovisit in Boston. Thus free of further obligation, Warlock and I tookthe Boston road at dawn; and how the dear fellow did gallop, though hecarried but a buckskin dragoon without company or colours orcommission to bear arms!
The first two days of my travel were almost without incident, lovely,calm October days through which sunlit clouds sailed out of the west,and the wild ducks drifted southward like floating banners in the sky.
In the yellow sunlight of the fields the quails were whistling, theheath-hens thundered through the copse, the crested partridge, withFrench ruff spread, stepped dainty as a game-cock through the briers,with his breathless menace: "Quhit! Quhit! Quhit!"
Once, riding on a treeless stretch of sandy road under the hot sun, avast company of wild pigeons began to pass high overhead, thousands onthousands, thicker and ever thicker, till as far as the eye couldreach from east to west they covered the sky in millions and millions,while the sun went out as in a thunder-cloud, and the air whistled andrang with their wings.
Their passage lasted some twenty minutes; a fine flight, truly, yet inTryon County, near Fonda's Bush, Sir William and I had marked greaterflights, lasting more than an hour.
This and Warlock's narrow escape from being bitten by one of those redsnakes which pilot the rattlesnake and go blind in September were theonly two noteworthy incidents of the first two days' journey on theBoston highway.
On the third day Warlock cast both hind shoes, and I was obliged tolead him very carefully, mile after mile, until, towards sundown, Ientered a little village, where in a smithy a forge reddened thefading daylight.
The smith, a gruff man, gave me news of Boston, that the Port Billwas starving the poor and driving all decent people towards openrebellion. As for himself, he said that he meant to march at the firstdrum-beat and carry his hammer if firelocks were lacking.
He spoke sullenly and with a peculiar defiance, doubtless suspiciousof me in spite of my buckskins. I told him that I knew littleconcerning the wrongs of Boston, but that if any man disturbed mynative country, the insolence touched me as closely as though my owndoor-yard had been trampled. Whereat he laughed and gave me a brawny,blackened fist to shake. So I rode away in the dusk.
To make up for the delay in travelling afoot all day, I determined tokeep on until midnight, Warlock being fit and ready without effort; soI munched a quarter of bread to stay my stomach and trotted on,pondering over the past, which already seemed years behind me.
The moon came up, but was soon frosted by silvery shoals of clouds.Then a great black bank pushed up from the west, covering moon andstars in sombre gloom, touched now and again by the dull flicker oflightning. The storm was far off, for I could hear no thunder, thoughthe increasing stillness of the air warned me to seek the firstshelter offered.
The district through which I was passing was well populated, and Iexpected every moment to see some light shining across the road frompossibly hospitable windows. So I kept a keen outlook on every side,while the fields and woods through which I passed grew ominouslysilent, and that delicate perfume which arises from storm-threatenedherbage filled my nostrils.
After a while, far away, the low muttering of thunder sounded, settingthe air vibrating, and I cast Warlock free at a hand-gallop.
Imperceptibly the dark silence around turned into sound; a low,monotonous murmur filled my ears. It rained.
Careless of my rifle, having of course no need for it on such apopulous highway, I let the priming take care of itself and urgedWarlock forward towards two spots of light which might come fromwindows very far away, or from the lamps of a post-chaise near athand.
Reining in, I was beginning to wonder which it might be, and hadfinally decided on the distant cottage, when my horse rearedviolently, almost falling on his back with me, and at the same momentI knew that somebody had seized his bridle.
"Stand and deliver!" came a calm voice from the darkness. I alreadyhad my rifle raised, but my thumb on the pan gave me warning that thepriming was soaking
wet.
"Dismount," came the voice, a trifle sharply.
I felt for the bridle, which had been jerked from my hands; it wasgone. I gave one furious glance at the lights ahead, which I now sawcame from a post-chaise standing in the road close by. Could I summonhelp from that? Or had the chaise also been stopped as I was now?Certainly I had run on a nest of highwaymen.
"How many have you?" I asked, choking with indignation. "I'll givethree of you merry gentlemen a chance at me if you will allow me onedry priming!"
There was a dead silence. The unseen hand that held my horse's headfell away, and the animal snorted and tossed his mane. Again, notknowing what to expect, I cautiously felt around until I found thebridle, and noiselessly began to work it back over Warlock's head.
"Now for it!" I thought, gathering to launch the horse like abattering-ram into the unknown ahead.
But just as I drew my light hatchet from my belt and lifted thebridle, I almost dropped from the saddle to hear a meek and pleadingvoice I knew call me by name.
"Jack Mount!" I exclaimed, incredulous even yet.
"The same, Mr. Cardigan, out at heels and elbows, lad, and trimmingthe highway for a purse-proud Tory. Are you offended?"
"Offended!" I repeated, hysterically. "Oh no, of course not!" And Iburst into a shout of uncontrollable laughter.
He did not join in. As for me, I lay on my horse's neck, weak from thereaction of my own laughter, utterly unable to find enough breath inmy body to utter another sound.
"Oh, you can laugh," he said, in a hurt voice. "But I haveaccomplished a certain business yonder which has nigh frightened me todeath--that's all."
"What business?" I asked, weakly.
"Oh, you may well ask. Hell's whippet! I lay here for the fat bailiffo' Grafton, who should travel to Hadley this night with Tory funds,and--I stopped a lady in that post-chaise yonder, and she's fainted atsight o' me. That's all."
"Fainted?" I repeated. "Where are her post-boys? Where's her footman?Where's her maid? Is she alone, Jack?"
"Ay," he responded, gloomily; "the men and the maid ran off. Trustthose Dutch patrooners for that sort o' patroonery! If I'd only hadCade with me--"
"But--where's the Weasel?"
"I wish I knew," he said, earnestly. "He left me at Johnstown--wentaway--vanished like a hermit-bird. Oh, I am certainly an unhappy manand a bungling one at that. You can laugh if you like, but it'skilling me. I wish you would come over to that cursed post-chaise andsee what can be done for the lady. You know about ladies, don't you?"
"I don't know what to do when they faint," I replied.
"There's ways and ways," he responded. "Some say to shake them, but Ican't bring myself to that; some say to pat their chins and say'chuck-a-bunny!' but I have no skill for that either. Do you think--ifwe could get her out o' the chaise--and let her be rained on--"
"No, no," I said, controlling a violent desire to laugh. "I'll calmher, Jack. Perhaps she has recovered."
As we advanced through the rain in the dim radiance of thechaise-lamps, I looked curiously at Mount, and he up at me.
"Lord," he murmured, "how you have changed, lad!"
"You, too," I said, for he was haggard and dirty and truly enough inrags. No marvel that the lady had fainted at first sight o' him, letalone his pistol thrust through the chaise-window.
"Poor old Jack," I said, softened by his misery. "Why did you desertme after you had saved my life? I owe you so much that it were acharity to aid me discharge the debt--or as much of it as I may."
"Ho!" he muttered. "'Twas no debt, lad, and I'm but a pottle-pot afterall. Now, by the ring-tailed coon o' Canada, I care not what befallsme, for Cade's gone--or dead--and I've the heart of a chipmunk left toface the devil."
"Soft," I whispered; "the lady's astir in her chaise. Wait you here,Jack! So!--I dismount. Touch not the horse; he bites at raggedness;he'll stand; so--o, Warlock. Wait, my beauty! So--o."
And I advanced to the chaise-window, cap in hand.
"Madam," I began, very gently, striving to make her out in the dimlight of the chaise; "I perceive some accident has befallen yourcarriage. Pray, believe me at your disposal and humbly anxious toserve you, and if there be aught wherein I may--"
"Michael Cardigan!" came a startled voice, and I froze dumb inastonishment. For there, hood thrown back, and earnest, pale faceswiftly leaning into the lamp-rays, I beheld Marie Hamilton.
We stared at each other for a moment, then her lovely face flushed andshe thrust both hands towards me, laughing and crying at the samemoment.
"Oh, the romance of life!" she cried. "I have had such a fright, mywits ache with the shock! A highwayman, Michael, _grand Dieu!_--herein the rain, pulling the horses up short, and it was, 'Ho! Stand anddeliver!'--with pistol pushed in my face, and I to faint--pretence togain a wink o' time to think--not frightened, but vexed and all on thequi vive to hide my jewels. Then comes the great booby, aghast to seeme fainted, a-muttering excuse that he meant no harm, and I lyingperdu, still as a mouse, for I had no mind to let him know I heardhim. But under my lids I perceived him, a great, ragged, handsomerascal, badly scared, for I gathered from his stammering that he waswaiting for another chaise bound for Hadley.
"_Vrai Dieu_, but I did frighten him well, and now he's gone, and I ina plight with my cowardly post-boys, maid, and footman fled, Lordknows whither!"
The amazing rapidity of her chatter confounded me, and she held myhands the while, and laughed and wept enough to turn her eyes to twinstars, all dewy in the lamp-shine.
"Dear friend," she sighed; "dear, dear friend, what happiness to feelI owe my life to you!"
"But you don't," I blurted out; "there never was any danger."
"Lord save the boy!" she murmured. "There is no spark o' romance inhim!" And fell a-laughing in that faint, low mockery that I rememberedon that fatal night at Johnson Hall.
"You are mistaken," I said, grimly. "Romance is the breath of my life,madam. And so I now plead freedom to present to your good graces myfriend, Jack Mount, who lately stopped your coach upon the King'shighway!"
And I caught the abashed giant by his ragged sleeve and dragged him tothe chaise-window, where he plucked off his coon-skin cap and staredwildly at the astonished lady within.
But it was no easy matter to rout Marie Hamilton. True, she paled alittle, and took one short breath, with her hand to her breast; then,like sunlight breaking, her bright eyes softened and that sweet, freshmouth parted in a smile which spite of me set my own pulse a quickstepmarching.
"I am not angry, sir," she said, mockingly. "All cats are gray atmidnight, and one post-chaise resembles another, Captain Mount--forsurely, by your exploits, you deserve at least that title."
Mount's fascinated eyes grew bigger. His consternation and the wildappeal in his eyes set me hard a-swallowing my laughter. As for Mrs.Hamilton, she smiled her sweet, malicious smile, and her melting eyeswere soft with that false mercy which deludes apace and welcomes todestruction.
"Jack," said I, smothering my laughter, "do you get your legs astridethe leader, there, and play at post-boy to the nearest inn. Zounds,man! Don't stand there hanging your jaw like a hard-run beagle! Upinto the saddle with you! Gad, you've a ride before you with thoseAlbany nags a-biting at your shins! Here, give me your rifle."
"And you, Michael," asked Mrs. Hamilton, "will you not share mycarriage, for old time's sake?"
I told her I had my horse and would ride him at her chaise-wheels, andso left her, somewhat coolly, for I liked not that trailing tail toher invitation--"for old time's sake."
"What the foul fiend have I to do with 'old time's sake'?" I muttered,as I slung myself astride o' Warlock and motioned Jack Mount to moveon through the finely falling rain. "'Old time's sake'! Faith, it oncecost me the bitterest day of my life, and might cost me the love ofthe sweetest girl in earth or heaven! 'Old time's sake'! Truly, thatis no tune to pipe for me; let others dance to it, not I."
As I rode forward beside her carriage-window, she looked
up at me andmade a little gesture of greeting. I bowed in my saddle, stiffly, forI was now loaded with Mount's rifle as well as my own.
What the deuce is there about Marie Hamilton that stirs the pulse ofevery man who sets eyes on her? Even I, loving Silver Heels with mywhole heart and soul, find subtle danger in the eyes of MarieHamilton, and shun her faint smile with the instant instinct of ananchorite.
Perhaps I was an anchorite, all ashamed, for I would not have it saidof me, for vanity.
In a day when the morals of the world were rotten to the core, whenvice was fashion, and fashion marked all England for her own, theoverflow from those same British islands, flooding our land, stainedmost of those among us who could claim the right to quality.
I never had been lured by those grosser sins which circumstancesoffered--even in our house at Johnstown--and I would make no merit ofmy continence, God wot, seeing there was no temptation.
I had been reared among those whose friends and guests often went tobed too drunk to snuff their candles; cards and dice and high playwere nothing strange to me, and, perhaps from their sheer familiarity,left me indifferent and without desire.
A titled drab I had never seen; the gentlemen whom I knew discussedtheir mistresses over nuts and wine, seeming to think no shame of oneanother for the foolishness they called their "fortune." Had it notbeen for Sir William's and Aunt Molly's teachings, I might have grownup to think that wives were wedded chiefly to oblige a friend. But SirWilliam and Aunt Molly taught me to abhor that universal vice longbefore I could comprehend it. I did not clearly comprehend it yet; butthe thought of it was stale ashes in my mouth, so unattractive had Ipictured what I needs must shun one day.
Riding there through the fine rain which I could scarcely feel on myskin, so delicate were the tiny specks of moisture, I thought much onthe smallness of this our world, where a single hour on an unknownroad had given me two companions whom I knew.
God grant the end of my journey would give me her for whose dear sakethe journey had been made!
Thinking such thoughts, lost in a lover's reverie, I rode on, blind toall save the sweet ghosts I conjured in my brooding, and presently wasroused to find the chaise turning into a tavern-yard, where all wasblack save for a lanthorn moving through the darkness.
Mount called; a yawning ostler came with a light, and at the sameinstant our host in shirt and apron toddled out to bid us welcome, alittle, fat, toothless, chattering body, whose bald head soon waspowdered with tiny, shining rain-drops.
Mrs. Hamilton gave me her hand to descend; she was as fresh andfragrant as a violet, and jumped to the ground on tiptoe with a quickflirt of her petticoat like the twitch of a robin his tail-feathers.
"Mad doings on the road, sir!" said our host, rubbing his little, fathands. "Chaise and four stopped by the penny-stile two hours since,sir. Ay, you may smile, my lady, but the post-boys fought a dreadfulbattle with the highwaymen swarming in on every side. You laugh, sir?But I have these same post-boys here, and the footman, too, to proveit!"
"But, pray, where is the lady and her maid and the chaise and four?"asked Mrs. Hamilton, demurely.
"God knows," said the innkeeper, rolling his eyes. "The villainscarried it off with the poor lady inside. Mad work, my lady! Madwork!"
"Maddening work," said I, wrathfully. "Jack, borrow a post-whip andwarm the breeks of those same post-boys, will you? Lay it on thick,Jack; I'll take my turn in the morning!"
Mount went away towards the stable, and I quieted the astonishedlandlord and sent him to prepare supper, while a servant lighted Mrs.Hamilton to her chamber. Then I went out to see that Warlock was wellfed and bedded fresh; and I did hear sundry howls from the villainpost-boys in their quarters overhead, where Mount was nothing sparingof the leather.
Presently he came down the ladder, and laughed sheepishly when he sawme.
"They're well birched," he said. "It's God's mercy if they sit theirsaddles in the morning." Then he took my hands and held them so hardthat I winced.
"Gad, I'm that content to see you, lad!" he repeated again and again.
"And I you, Jack," I said. "It is time, too, else you'd be in someworse mischief than this night's folly. But I'll take care of younow," I added, laughing. "Faith, it's turn and turn about, you know.Come to supper."
"I--I hate to face that lady," he muttered. "No, lad, I'll sup with myown marrow-bones for company."
"Nonsense!" I insisted, but could not budge him, and soon saw I had mylabour for my pains.
"A mule for obstinacy--a very mule," I muttered.
"I own it; I'm an ass. But this ass knows enough to go to his properstall," he said, with a miserable laugh that touched me.
"Have it as you wish, Jack," I said, gently; "but come into my chamberwhen you've supped. I'll be there. Lord, what millions of questions Ihave to ask!"
"To be sure, to be sure," he murmured, then walked away towards thekitchen, while I returned to the inn and cleansed me of the stains oftravel.
We supped together, Mrs. Hamilton and I, and found the cheer mostcomforting, though there was no wine for her and she sipped, with me,the new brew of dark October ale.
A barley soup we had, then winter squash and a roast wild duck, withlittle quails all 'round, and a dish of pepper-cresses. Lord, how Idid eat, being still gaunt from my long sickness! But she kept pacewith me; a wholesome lass was she, and no frail beauty fed onsyllabubs and suckets. Flesh and blood were her charms, a delicateripeness, sweet as the cresses she crunched between her sparklingteeth. And ever I heard her little feet go tap, tap, tap, under thelamplit table.
I spoke respectfully of her losses; she dropped her eyes, acceptingthe condolence, pinching a cress to shreds the while.
She of course knew nothing of my journey to Pittsburg, nor of anyevents there which might have occurred after she had left, when herhusband fell with many another stout frontiersman under Boone andHarrod.
I told her nothing, save that Felicity was in Boston and that I wasjourneying thither to see her.
"Is she not to wed the Earl of Dunmore?" asked Mrs. Hamilton.
"No," said I, quietly.
"La, the capricious beauty!" she murmured. "Sure, she has not thrownover Dunmore for that foolish dragoon, Kent Bevan?"
"I hope not," said I, maliciously.
"Who knows," she mused; "Mr. Bevan is to serve on Gage's staff thisfall. It looks like a match to me."
"Is Mr. Bevan going to Boston?" I inquired.
"Yes. Are you jealous?" she replied, saucily.
I smiled and shook my head.
"But you once were in love with your cousin," she persisted. "_On aimesans raison, et sans raison l'on hait! Regardez-moi, monsieur._"
"Your convent breeding in Saint-Sacrement lends to your tongue aliberty that English schools withhold," I said, reddening.
"Nay, now," she laughed, "do you remember how you played with me atthat state dinner held in Johnson Hall? You rode me down rough-shod,Michael, and used me shamefully there, under the stairs."
"I'll do the like again if you provoke me," I said, but had not meantto say it either, being troubled by her eyes.
"The--the like--again? And what was that, pray?"
"You know," I said, sulkily.
"I think you--kissed me--"
"I think I did," said I; "and left you all in tears."
It was brutal, but I meant to make an end.
"Did you believe that those were real tears?" she asked, innocently.
"By Heaven, I know they were," said I, with satisfaction, "and smallvengeance to repay the ill you did me, too."
"What ill?" she asked, opening her eyes in real surprise.
But I was silent and ashamed already. Truly, it had been no fault butmy own that I had taken up the gage she flung at me that night so longago.
"But I'll not take it up this time," thought I to myself, crackingfilberts and looking at her askance across the table.
"I do not understand you, Michael," she said, with a faint smile,en
ding in a sigh.
"Nor I you, bonnie Marie Hamilton," said I. "Suppose we both cryquits?"
"Not yet," she said; "I have a little score with you, unsettled."
"What score?" I asked, smiling. "Cannot you appeal to the law to haveit settled?"
"_La loi permet souvent ce que defend l'honneur_," she said, with aninnocent emphasis which left me sitting there, uncertain whether tolaugh or blush. What the mischief did she mean, anyhow?
She picked up a filbert, tasted the kernel, dropped it, clasped herhands, elbows on the cloth, and gave me a malicious sidelong glancewhich still was full of that strange sweetness that ever set me on myguard, half angry, half bewitched.
"I wish you would let me alone!" I blurted out, like a country yokelat a quilting.
"I won't," she said.
"Remember what you suffered the first time!" I warned her.
"I do remember."
"Do you--do you dare risk that?" I stammered.
"_Et d'avantage--encore_," she murmured, setting her teeth on herplump white wrist and watching me uncertainly.
The game was running on too fast for me and my pulse was keeping pace.
"Safely they defy who challenge those in chains," I said, commandingmy voice with an effort. "If that is your revenge, I cry you mercy;you have won."
After a long silence she raised her eyes, dancing with a mocking lightin each starry pupil.
"I give you joy, Michael," she said, "if, as I take it, these samechains and fetters that you lately wear are riveted by Cupid."
But I answered nothing, attending her to the door, where she droppedme what I do believe was the slowest and lowest curtsey ever droppedby woman.
So I to my own chamber in no amiable frame of mind, and still tinglingwith the strange charm of my encounter. Head bent, hands claspedbehind me, I walked the floor, striving to analyze this woman who hadnow twice crossed me on the trail of fate, this fair woman whosebright eyes were a menace and a challenge, and whose sweet, curvedmouth was set there as eternal provocation to saint and sinner.
Thus for the first time in my life I had known what temptation mighthave been. Nay, I knew a little more than what it _might have_ been,and, in the overwhelming flood of loyalty to Silver Heels, I cursedmyself for a man without faith or shred of honour. For I was toounskilled in combats with the fair temptation to understand that it isno disgrace to falter, yet not fall.
There came a timid scratching at the door; I opened it and Mountsidled in, coy as a cat in a dairy with its chin still wet with cream.He regarded me doubtfully, but sat down when bidden and began tocomplain:
"Now, if you are minded to chide me for taking the road, I'm going outagain. I can't bear any more, lad, that I can't!--what with Cade goneand me in rags, and stopping Councillor Bullock near Johnstown withpockets bare of aught but a cursed sixpence and that crooked as LadyShelton's legs--and now I must needs fright a lady into a faint like abad boy with a jack-o'-lanthorn--"
"What on earth is the matter with you?" I broke in, peevishly. "I'mnot finding fault, Jack. If you mean to spend your life in endeavoursto impoverish every Tory magistrate in America, it's your affair, andI can't help it, though you must know as well as I that there's acarpenter's tree and a rope at the end of your frolic."
"No, there isn't," he said, hastily. "I'm done with the highway saveto pat it smooth with my feet. Lord, lad, it's not for the money, butfor sport. And soon there'll be fighting enough to fill my stomach;mark me, the crocus that buds white this spring will wither red asblood ere its fouled petals fall!"
"War?" I asked, thrilling to hear him.
He rose and gazed at me most earnestly.
"Ay, surely, surely in the spring. Gad! Boston is that surfeited withredcoats now that when they cram down more next spring she can butthrow them up to keep her health. Wait! Boston is sick in bone andbody, but in the spring she takes her purge. Oh, I know," he cried,with a strange, prophetic stare in his eyes; "I have word fromShemuel. Now he's off to Boston with the news from Cresap. And I tellyou, lad, that the first half-moon of April will start a devil loosein this broad land that state or clergy cannot exorcise!
"Not a devil," he corrected himself, slowly, "no, not a thing fromhell, but that same swift angel sent to chasten worlds with fire.Dunmore will burn, and Butler. As for the rest, the honest, therascals, the witless, the soulless, thieves, poltroons, usurers, andthe vast army of well-meaning loyal fools, they will be cleared out o'this our world-wide temple whose roof is the sky and whose pillars areour high pines!--cleared out, scoured out, uprooted, driven forth likethose same money-changers in the temple scourged by Christ,--and Godis witness I, a sinner, mean no blasphemy, spite of all the sweatingload o' guilt I bear."
"Where got you such phrases, Jack?" I asked. "It is not Jack Mount whospeaks to me like a crazed preacher in the South who shouts the slavesaround him to repent."
Mount looked at me; the dazed, fanatic light in his eyes faded slowly.
"I have a book here," he muttered, "a book I purchased in Johnstown ofa man who sold many to patriots. Doubtless grief for Cade and myprivations and my conning this same book while starving make melight-headed yet."
"What book is that?" I asked.
"_The Rights of Man._"
"I, also, would be glad to read it."
"Read, lad. 'Tis fodder for King George's cattle--such as we. And thelittle calves our wenches cast, they, too, shall feed on it, thoughthey cannot utter moo! for their own mothers' milk!"
"Jack, Jack," I cried, "you are strangely changed! I do not know youin this bitter mood, and your mouth full o' words that burn your sillylips. Wake to life, man! Gay! Gay! Jack! A pest on books and those whowrite 'em! I have ever despised your printed stuff, and damme if I'llsit and hear it through your lips!"
But it was like rousing a man from a sleeping-draught, for the bookhad so bewitched his senses in these long weeks he had wandered alonethat I had all I could do to drag him out of his strange, dreamyenthusiasms, back into his old, guileless, sunny, open-hearted self.And I feel sure that I could not have succeeded at all had not theshock of his encounter with Mrs. Hamilton on the highway first scaredhim back to partial common-sense. Added to this my entreaties, and hebecame docile, and then, little by little, dropped his preacher's madharangue to talk like a reasonable creature and wag his tongueunlarded with his garbled metaphors and his half-baked parables whichno doubt no simple forest-runner could digest on the raw printed page.I pitied him sincerely. Truly, a little learning makes one wondrouskind.
I put the book in my shirt-front, meaning to be of those who ride andread, even as Jack was of those others who both read and run.
"Why did you desert me, Jack?" I asked, sitting chin on hand to watchhim smoke the pipe which no kind fate had filled for him since he leftJohnstown.
"Faith, I hung about with Cade, doing no harm, sitting in the sun towait for news from you. Mr. Duncan, a kind officer, gave us news andmade us welcome on the benches in front of the guard-house. AndMistress Warren would have us to eat with her--only I was ashamed. ButCade went and supped with her.
"Lad, Sir John Johnson is not a gentleman I should grow too fond of.His courtesy is a shallow spring, I'm thinking, dry at the firsttaste, and over-sour to suit my teeth."
"What did Sir John do?" I asked, growing red. "Surely he thanked youand Cade for saving his kinsman's life; surely he made you welcome atthe Hall, Jack?"
"Surely, he did nothing of the kind," grunted Mount, puffing his pipe."Sir John sent word to the guard that we had best find quarters inJohnstown taverns and not set the hounds barking in his kennels."
It was like a blow in the face to me. Jack saw it and laughed.
"It's not your fault," he said; "show me two eggs and I'll name twobirds, but I won't swear they'll fight alike. If he's your kin, it'sto be borne, lad, and that's all there is to it."
I set my teeth and swallowed my shame.
"So we went to Rideup's old camp," he continued; "a fair inn where aman may dr
ink to whom he pleases and no questions asked nor any yokelto bawl 'God save the King!' or turn your ale sour with Tory whining.And there I lay and--tippled, lad. I'll not deny it, no! Like a fishin sweet water my gills did open and shut while the ale flowed intome, day and night perdu.
"Cade never drank. God! how that man changed--since he saw your sweetMistress Warren there on the hillock at Roanoke Plain! Mad, lad, quitemad. But such a dear, good comrade--I--I can scarce speak o' him but Iwink with tears."
The great fellow dug one fist into his eyes, and then the other,replacing his pipe in his mouth with an unmistakable snivel.
"Quite mad, Mr. Cardigan. He thought he saw his little daughter inMiss Warren, without offence to any one in all the world and least ofall to you, and he waited all day to see her come out to theguard-house and give the news of your sick-bed to your LieutenantDuncan. So one day, when you were surely out of danger and ready tofatten, comes Cade to the tavern and bids me good-bye, talking wildlyof his lost daughter, and I, Heaven help me, lay abed with my headlike a top all humming for the ale I'd had, and thinking nothing ofwhat he said save that his madness grew apace.
"And that night he went away while I slept in my cups. When he camenot I hunted the town for him as I had never hunted trail in all mylife before. And I warrant you I left no stone unturned in that sametown. I was half-crazy; I could not think he'd left me there of hisown free will. Many a fight I had with the soldiers, many a bruise andbroken head I left behind me ere I shook my moccasins free o' dust inJohnstown streets. They'll tell you, and that fat, purple-pittedcouncillor--Bullock, I mean--why, he would have me jailed for a matterof damaging his Tory constable. So I gave him a fright on the highwayand left your Tryon County for a quieter one. That's all, lad."
What he had told me of Cade Renard troubled me. If Felicity had beenstrangely lost to her own family, and had been restored, doubtless shewas now happy and full of wonder for the dear, amazing chance that hadbrought to her those honoured parents she had so long deemed to bewith God. Yet she must be shy and over-sensitive also, having beenbrought up to believe she had no nearer kin than Sir Peter Warren. Andnow that he, after all, was no kin to her, nor she to us, if a madforest-runner like Cade Renard should come to vex her with his lunyfancies, it might hurt her or seem like reproach and mockery for hernew parents.
"Do you think Cade followed Miss Warren to Boston?" I asked.
"My journey is to find that out," he said. "Ah, lad, a noble mind waswrecked in Renard's head. _I_ know--others know nothing. What fatesent him like a wild thing to the forests, I only know, as you know,nothing but what he has told us both. If his madness has waxed sofiercely since he saw Miss Warren, it may be a sign that the end isnear. I do not know. I miss him, and I must look for him while I canmove these clumsy feet of mine."
My candle was burning very low now. Mount laid his pipe in thecandle-pan, rose, shook himself, and said good-night.
"Good-night," I said, and sat down to light another candle. This done,I did undress me, and so would have been in bed had I not chanced toopen the book he left me, thinking to glance it over and forget it.
But sunrise found me poring over its pages, while the candle, a poolo' wax, hardened in the candle-stick beside me.