CHAPTER V.
THE BLACK HORSE.
Thanks to the dimness, to his uniform, and to his swift entrance,Peyton had not been recognized by Major Colden until he had given hisname. That name had on the major the effect of an apparition, and hestepped back into the dark corner of the hall, drawing his cloak yetcloser about him. This alarm and movement were not noticed by theothers, as Peyton was the object of every gaze but his own, which wasfixed on Elizabeth.
"What do you want?" her voice rang out, while she frowned from herplace on the staircase, in cold resentment. Her aunt, meanwhile, madethe newcomer a tremulous curtsey.
"I want to see the person in charge of this house, and I want ahorse," replied Peyton, with more promptitude than gentleness, yetwith strict civility. Elizabeth's manner would have nettled even acolder man.
Elizabeth did not keep him waiting for an answer.
"I am at present mistress of this house, and I am neither sellinghorses nor giving them!"
Peyton stared up at her in wonderment.
The candle-flame struggled against the wind, turning this way andthat, and made the vague shadows of the people and of the slenderbalusters dance on floor and wall. From without came the sound ofPeyton's horses pawing, and of his men speaking to one another in lowtones.
"Your pardon, madam," said Peyton, "but a horse I must have. Theservice I am on permits no delay--"
"I doubt not!" broke in Elizabeth. "The Hessians are probably chasingyou."
"On the contrary, I am chasing the Hessians. At Boar Hill, yonder, myhorse gave out. 'Tis important my troops lose no time. Passing here,we saw horses being led into your stable. I ordered one of my men totake the best of your beasts, and put my saddle on it,--and he is nowdoing so."
"How dare you, sir!" and Elizabeth came quickly to the foot of thestairs, a picture of regal, flaming wrath.
"Why, madam," said Peyton, "'tis for the service of the army. Irequire the horse, and I have come here to pay for it--"
"It is not for sale--"
"That makes no difference. You know the custom of war."
"The custom of robbery!" cried Elizabeth.
Captain Peyton reddened.
"Robbery is not the custom of Harry Lee's dragoons, madam," said he,"whatever be the practice of the wretched 'Skinners' or of De Lancey'sTory Cowboys. I shall pay you as you choose,--with a receipt topresent at the quartermaster's office, or with Continental bills."
"Continental rubbish!"
And, indeed, Elizabeth was not far from the truth in the appellationso contemptuously hurled.
"You prefer that, do you?" said Peyton, unruffled; whereupon he tookfrom within his waistcoat a long, thick pocketbook, and from that anumber of bills; which must have been for high amounts, for he rapidlycounted out only a score or two of them, repocketing the rest, and atthat time, thereabouts, "a rat in shape of a horse," as Washingtonhimself had complained a month before, was "not to be bought for lessthan L200."[4] Peyton handed her the bills he had counted out."There's a fair price, then," said he; "allowing for depreciation. Thecurrent rate is five to one,--I allow six."
Elizabeth looked disdainfully at the proffered bills, and made no moveto take them.
"Pah!" she cried. "I wouldn't touch your wretched Continental trash. Iwouldn't let one of my black women put her hair up in it. Money, doyou call it? I wouldn't give a shilling of the King for a houseful ofit."
"I beg your pardon," said Peyton, cheerfully. "Since July in '76 therehas been no king in America. I leave the bills, madam." He laid themon the newel post, beside the candlestick. "'Tis all I can do, andmore than many a man would do, seeing that Colonel Philipse, the ownerof this place, is no friend to the American cause, and may fairly belevied on as an enemy--"
"Colonel Philipse is my father!"
"Then I'm glad I've been punctilious in the matter," said Peyton, butwithout any increase of deference. "Egad, I think I've been asscrupulous as the commander-in-chief himself!"
"The commander-in-chief!" echoed Elizabeth. "Sir Henry Clinton pays ingold."
"I meant _our_ commander-in-chief," with a suavity most irritating.
"Mr. Washington!" said Elizabeth, scornfully, with a slight emphasison the "Mr."
"His Excellency, General Washington." Peyton spoke as one would ingently correcting a child who was impolite. Then he added, "I thinkthe horse is now ready; so I bid you good evening!"
And he strode towards the door.
Elizabeth was now fully awake to the certainty that one of the horseswould indeed be taken. At Peyton's movement she ran to the door,reaching it before he did, and looked out. What she saw, transformedher into a very fury.
"Oh, this outrage!" she cried, facing about and addressing those inthe hall. "It is my Cato they are leading out! My Cato! Under my veryeyes! I forbid it! He shall not go! Where are Cuff and the servants?Why don't they prevent? And you, Jack?"
She turned to Colden for the first time since Peyton's arrival.
"My troop would make short work of any who interfered, madam," saidPeyton, warningly, still looking at Elizabeth only.
"Oh, that I should have to endure this!" she said. "Oh, if I had but acompany of soldiers at my back, you dog of a rebel!"
And she paced the hall in a great passion. Passing the newel post, shenoticed the Continental bills. She took these up, violently tore themacross, and threw the pieces about the hall, as one tosses corn abouta chicken-yard.
Major Colden had been having a most uncomfortable five minutes. As aTory officer, he was in close peril of being made prisoner by thisContinental captain and the latter's troop outside, and this peril wasnone the less since he had so adversely criticised Peyton in the talkwhich had led to the duel in Bayard's woods. He had not put himselfon friendly terms with Peyton after that affair. There was still noreason for any other feeling towards him, on Peyton's part, thanresentment. Now Jack Colden had no relish for imprisonment at thehands of the despised rebels. Moreover, he had no wish that Elizabethshould learn of his former defeat by Peyton. He had kept the meetingin Bayard's woods a secret, thanks to Peyton's having quitted New Yorkimmediately after it, and to the relation of dependence in which thetwo only witnesses stood to him. Thus it was that he had remained wellout of view during Elizabeth's sharp interview with Peyton, beingunwilling alike to be known as a Tory officer, and to be recognized byPeyton. His civilian's cloak hid his uniform and weapons; the dimnessof the candle-light screened his face.
But matters had reached a point where he could not, without appearinga coward, refrain longer from taking a hand. He stepped forward fromthe dark remoteness.
"Sir," said he to Peyton, politely, "I know the custom of war. Butsince a horse must be taken, you will find one of mine in the stable.Will you not take it instead of this lady's?"
Peyton had been scrutinizing Colden's features.
"Mr. Colden, if I remember," he said, when the major had finished.
"You remember right," said Colden, with a bow, concealing behind a nottoo well assumed quietude what inward tremors the situation causedhim.
"And you are doubtless now an officer in some Tory corps?" saidPeyton, quickly.
"No, sir, I am neutral," replied Colden, rather huskily, with aninstant's glance of warning at Elizabeth.
"Gad!" said Peyton, with a smile, still closely surveying the major."From your sentiments the time I met you in New York in '75, I shouldhave thought you'd take up arms for the King."
"That was before the Declaration of Independence," said Colden, in atone scarcely more than audible. "I have modified my opinions."
"They were strong enough then," Peyton went on. "You remember how youupheld them with a rapier in Bayard's woods?"
"I remember," said Colden, faintly, first reddening, then taking on apale and sickly look, as if a prey to hidden chagrin and rage.
It seemed as if his tormentor intended to torture him interminably.Peyton, who knew that one of his men would come for him as soon as thehorse should be saddled and b
ridled, remained facing the unhappymajor, wearing that frank half-smile which, from the triumphant to thecrestfallen, seems so insolent and is so maddening.
"I've often thought," said Peyton, "I deserved small credit forgetting the better of you that day. I had taken lessons from Londonfencing-masters." (Consider that the woman whom Colden loved waslooking on, and that this was all news to her, and imagine how heraged beneath the outer calmness he had, for safety's sake, to wear.)"'Twas no hard thing to disarm you, and I'm not sorry you're neutralnow. For if you wore British or Tory uniform, 'twould be my duty toput you again at disadvantage, by taking you prisoner."
The face of one of Peyton's men now appeared in the doorway. Peytonnodded to him, then continued to address the major.
"As for your request, my traps are now on the other horse, and thereis not time to change. I must ride at once."
He stepped quickly to the door, and on the threshold turned to bow.
Then cried Elizabeth:
"May you ride to your destruction, for your impudence, you bandit!"
"Thank you, madam! I shall ride where I must! Farewell! My horse iswaiting."
And in an instant he was gone, having closed the door after him with abang.
"_His_ horse! The highwayman!" quoth Elizabeth.
"Give the gentleman his due," said Miss Sally, in a way both mollifiedand mollifying. "He paid for it with those." She indicated the strewnfragments of the Continental bills on the floor.
"Forward! Get up!"
It was the voice of Captain Peyton outside. The horses were heardriding away from the lawn.
Elizabeth opened the door and looked out. Her aunt accompanied her.Old Valentine gazed with a sagely deploring expression at the torn-upbills on the floor. Colden stood where he had been, lest by somechance the enemy might return and discover his relief from straint.
"Oh," cried Elizabeth, at the door, as the light horsemen filed outthe gate and up the branch road towards the highway, "to see themiserable rebel mounted on my Cato!"
"He looks well on him," said her aunt.
It was a brief flow of light from the fresh-risen moon, betweenwind-driven clouds, that enabled Miss Sally to make this observation.
"Looks well! The tatterdemalion!" And Elizabeth came from the door, asif loathing further sight of him.
But Miss Sally continued to look after the riders, as their dark formswere borne rapidly towards the post-road. "Nay, I think he is quitehandsome."
"Pah! You think every man is handsome!" said the niece, curtly.
Miss Sally turned from the door, quite shocked.
"Why, Elizabeth, you know I'm the least susceptible of women!"
Old Mr. Valentine nodded sadly, as much as to say, "I know that, alltoo well!"
As the racing clouds now rushed over the moon, and the horsemen'sfigures, having become more and more blurred, were lost in theblackness, Miss Sally closed and bolted the door. The horses werefaintly heard coming to a halt, at about the junction of the branchroad with the highway, then moving on again rapidly, not furthertowards the south, as might have been expected, but back northward,and finally towards the east. Meanwhile Elizabeth stood in the hall,her rage none the less that its object was no longer present to haveit wreaked on him. Such hate, such passionate craving for revenge, hadnever theretofore been awakened in her. And when she realized theunlikelihood of any opportunity for satisfaction, she was exasperatedto the limit of self-control.
"If you had only had some troops here!" she said to Colden.
"I know it! May the rascal perish for finding me at such a disadvantage!'Twas my choice between denying my colors and becoming his prisoner."
This brought back to Elizabeth's mind the talk between Colden andPeyton, which her feelings had for the time driven from her thoughts.But now a natural curiosity asserted itself.
"So you knew the fellow before?"
"I met him in '75," said Colden, blurting awkwardly into theexplanation that he knew had to be made, though little was his stomachfor it. "He was passing through New York from Boston to his home inVirginia, after he had deserted from the King's army--"
"Deserted?" Elizabeth opened wide her eyes.
Colden briefly outlined, as far as was desirable, what he knew ofPeyton's story.
It was Miss Sally who then said:
"And he disarmed you in a duel?"
"He had practised under London fencing-masters, as he but nowadmitted," replied Colden, grumpily. "He made no secret of hisdesertion; and in a coffee-house discussion I said it was a dastardlyact. So we--fought. Since then I've met officers of the regiment heleft. Such a thing was never known before,--the desertion of anofficer of the Sixty-third,--and General Grant, its colonel, has theword of Sir Henry Clinton that this fellow shall hang if they evercatch him."
"Then I hope my horse will carry him into their hands!" saidElizabeth, heartily. "My poor Cato! I shall never see him again!"
"We may get him back some day," said Colden, for want of aught betterto say.
"If you can do that, John Colden, and have this rebel hanged who daredtreat me so--" Elizabeth paused, and her look dwelt on the major'sface.
"Well?"
"Then I think I shall almost be really in love with you!"
But Colden sighed. "A rare promise from one's betrothed!"
"Heavens, Jack!" said Elizabeth, now diverted from the thought of herhorse. "Don't I do the best I can to love you? I'm sure I come as nearloving you as loving anybody. What more can I do than that, andpromising my hand? Don't look dismal, major, I pray,--and now makehaste back to New York."
"How can I go and leave you exposed to the chance of another visitfrom some troop of rebels?" pleaded Colden, in a kind of peevishdespair, taking up his hat from the settle.
"Oh, that fellow showed no disposition to injure _me_!" she answered,reassuringly. "Trust me to take care of myself."
"But promise that if there's any sign of danger, you will fly to NewYork."
"That will depend on the circumstances. I may be safer in this housethan on the road."
"Then, at least, you will have guns fired, and also send a man to oneof our outposts for help?" There was no pretence in the young man'ssolicitude. Such a bride as Elizabeth Philipse was not to be foundevery day. The thought of losing her was poignant misery to him.
"To which one?" she asked. "The Hessian camp by Tippett's Brook, orthe Highlanders', at Valentine's Hill?"
"No," said Colden, meditating. "Those may be withdrawn if the weatheris bad. Send to the barrier at King's Bridge,--but if your man meetsone of our patrols or pickets on the way, so much the better. Good-by!I shall see your father to-night, and then rejoin my regiment onStaten Island."
He took her hand, bent over it, and kissed it.
"Be careful you don't fall in with those rebel dragoons," saidElizabeth, lightly, as his lips dwelt on her fingers.
"No danger of that," put in old Valentine, from the settle, for themoment ceasing to chew an imaginary cud. "They took the road to MileSquare." The octogenarian's hearing was better than his sight.
"I shall notify our officers below that this rebel force is out," saidColden, "and our dragoons may cut it off somewhere. Farewell, then! Ishall return for you in a week."
"In a week," repeated Elizabeth, indifferently.
He kissed her hand again, bowed to Miss Sally, and hastened from thehall, closing the door behind him. Once outside, he made his way tothe stables, where he knew that Cuff, not having returned toElizabeth, must still be.
"It's little reward you give that gentleman's devotion, Elizabeth,"said Miss Sally, when he had gone.
"Why, am I not going to give him myself? Come, aunty, don't preach onthat old topic. My parents wish me to be married to Jack Colden, and Ihave consented, being an obedient child,--in some things."
"More obedient to your own whims than to anything else," was MissSally's comment.
The sound of Colden's horse departing brought to the amiable aunt thethought of a previous
departure.
"That fine young rebel captain!" said she. "If our troops take himthey'll hang him! Gracious! As if there were so many handsome youngmen that any could be spared! Why can't they hang the old and uglyones instead?"
Mr. Valentine suspended his chewing long enough to bestow on MissSally a look of vague suspicion.
The door, which had not been locked or bolted after Colden's going,was suddenly flung open to admit Cuff. The negro boy had been thrownby the dragoons' visit into an almost comatose condition of fright,from which the orders of Colden had but now sufficiently restored himto enable his venturing out of the stable. He now stood trembling infear of Elizabeth's reproof, stammering out a wild protestation of hisinability to save the horse by force, and of his inefficaciousattempts to save him by prayer.
Elizabeth cut him short with the remark, intended rather for her ownsatisfaction than for aught else, that one thing was to be hoped,--thechance of war might pay back the impertinent rebel who had stolen thehorse. She then gave orders that the hall and the east parlor belighted up.
"For the proper reception," she added to her aunt, "of the nexthandsome rebel captain who may condescend to honor us with a visit.Mr. Valentine, wait in the parlor till supper is ready. I'll have afire made there. Come, aunt Sally, we'll discuss over a cup of tea thecharms of your pretty rebel captain and his agreeable way of relievingladies of their favorite horses. I'll warrant he'll look handsomerthan ever, on the gallows, when our soldiers catch him."
And she went blithely up the stairs, which at the first landing turnedrightward to a second landing, and thence rightward again to the upperhall. The darkness was interrupted by a narrow stream of light from aslightly open doorway in the north side of this upper hall. This wasthe doorway to her own room, and when she crossed the threshold shesaw a bright blaze in the fireplace, lights in a candelabrum, cups andsaucers on a table, and Molly bringing in a steaming teapot from thenext room, which, being northward, was nearer the kitchen stairs. Thisnext room, too, was lighted up. Solid wooden shutters, inside thewindows of both chambers, kept the light from being seen without, andthe wind from being felt within.
As Elizabeth was looking around her room, smiling affectionately onits many well-remembered and long-neglected objects, there was asudden distant detonation. Molly looked up inquiringly, but Elizabethdirected her to place the tea things, find fresh candles, if any wereleft in the house, and help Cuff put them on the chandelier in thelower hall, and then get supper. As Molly left the room, Miss Sallyentered it.
"Elizabeth! Oh, child! There's firing beyond Locust Hill. It's on theMile Square road, Mr. Valentine says,--cavalry pistols and rangers'muskets."
"Mr. Valentine has a fine ear."
"He says the rebel light horse must have met the Hessians! There 'tisagain!"
"Sit down, aunt, and have a dish of tea. Ah-h! This is comfortable!Delicious! Let them kill one another as they please, beyond LocustHill; let the wind race up the Hudson and the Albany road as itlikes,--we're snugly housed!"
Williams, who had, from the upper hall, safely overheard CaptainPeyton's intrusion, and had not seen occasion for his own interference,now came in from the next room, which he had been making ready for MissSally, and received Elizabeth's orders concerning the east parlor.
Meanwhile, what of Harry Peyton and his troop?
Riding up the little tree-lined road towards the highway, they sawdark forms of other riders standing at the point of junction. Thesewere the men whom Peyton had directed to patrol the road. They nowtold him that, by the account of a belated farmer whom they hadhalted, the Hessians had turned from the highway into the Mile Squareroad. Peyton immediately led his men to that road. Thus, as oldValentine said, that part of the highway between the manor-house andKing's Bridge remained clear of these rebel dragoons, and Major Coldenstood in no danger of meeting them on his return to New York. Themajor, nevertheless, did not spare his horse as he pursued his lonelyway through the windy darkness. When he arrived at King's Bridge hewas glad to give his horse another rest, and to accept an invitationto a bottle and a game in the tavern where the British commandingofficer was quartered.
The Hessians had not gone far on the Mile Square road, when theirleader called a halt and consulted with his subordinate officer. Theywere now near Mile Square, where the Tory captain, James De Lancey,kept a recruiting station all the year round, and Valentine's Hill,where there was a regiment of Highlanders. Their own security wasthus assured, but they might do more than come off in safety,--theymight strike a parting blow at their pursuers. A plan was quicklyformed. A messenger was despatched to Mile Square to request a smallreinforcement. The troop then turned back towards the highway, havingplanned for either one of two possibilities. The first was that therebel dragoons, not thinking the Hessians had turned into the MileSquare road, would ride on down the highway. In that case, theHessians would follow them, having become in their turn thepursuers, and would fall upon their rear. The noise of firearms wouldalarm the Hessian camp by Tippett's Brook, below, and the rebelswould thus be caught between two forces. The second possibility wasthat the Americans would follow into the Mile Square road. When thesound of their horses soon told that this was the reality, theHessians promptly prepared to meet it.
The force divided into two parts. The foremost blocked the road, neara turning, so as to remain unseen by the approaching rebels untilalmost the moment of collision. The second force stayed some rodsbehind the first, forming in two lines, one along each side of theroad. As to each force, some were armed with sabres and cavalrypistols, but most, being mounted yagers of Van Wrumb's battalion, withrifles.
As for the little detachment of Lee's Light Horse that was nowgalloping along the Mile Square road, under Harry Peyton's command,the arms were mainly broadswords and pistols, but some of the men hadrifles or light muskets.
The troop went forward at a gallop against the wind, there beingjust sufficient light for keen eyes to make out the road ahead.Harry Peyton was inwardly deploring the loss of time at PhilipseManor-house, and fearing that the prey would reach its covert, whensuddenly the moon appeared in a cloud-rift, the troops passed a turnin the road, and there stood a line of Hessians barring the way.
Ere Peyton could give an order, came one loud, flaming, whistlingdischarge from that living barrier. Harry's horse--ElizabethPhilipse's Cato--reared, as did others of his troop. Some of the mencame to a quick stop, others were borne forward by the impetus oftheir former speed, but soon reined in for orders. No man fell, thoughone groaned, and two cursed.
Harry got his horse under control, drew his broadsword with his righthand, his pistol with his left,--which held also the rein,--andordered his men to charge, to fire at the moment of contact, then tocut, slash, and club. So the little troop, the well and the woundedalike, dashed forward.
But the line of Hessians, as soon as they had fired, turned and fled,passing between the two lines of the second force, and stopping atsome further distance to reform and reload. The second force, beingthus cleared by the first, wheeled quickly into the road, and formed asecond barrier against Peyton's oncoming troop.
Peyton's men, intoxicated by the powder-smell that filled theirnostrils as they passed through the smoke of the Hessians' firstvolley, bore down on this second barrier with furious force. They werethe best riders in the world, and many a one of them held hisbroadsword aloft in one hand, his pistol raised in the other, the reinloose on his horse's neck; while those with long-barrelled weaponsaimed them on the gallop.
The Hessians and Peyton's foremost men fired at the same moment. TheHessians had not time to turn and flee, for the Americans, uncheckedby this second greeting of fire, came on at headlong speed. "At 'em,boys!" yelled Peyton, discharging his pistol at a tall yager, who fellsidewise from his horse with a fierce German oath. The light horsemen dashed between the Hessians' steeds, and there was hewing andhacking.
A Hessian officer struck with a sabre at Peyton's left arm, but onlyknocked the pistol from his hand. Peyt
on then found himself threatenedon the right by a trooper, and slashed at him with broadsword. Theblow went home, but the sword's end became entangled somehow with thebreast bones of the victim. A yager, thinking to deprive Peyton of thesword, brought down a musket-butt heavily on it. But Peyton's grip wasfirm, and the sword snapped in two, the hilt in his hand, the point inits human sheath. At that instant Peyton felt a keen smart in his leftleg. It came from a second sabre blow aimed by the Hessian officer,who might have followed it with a third, but that he was now attackedelsewhere. Peyton had no sooner clapped his hand to his wounded legthan he was stunned by a blow from the rifle-butt of the yager who hadpreviously struck the sword. Harry fell forward on the horse's neck,which he grasped madly with both arms, still holding the broken swordin his right hand; and lapsed from a full sense of the tumult, theplunging and shrieking horses, the yelling and cursing men, the whirrand clash of swords, and the thuds of rifle-blows, into blind, red,aching, smarting half-consciousness.
When he was again aware of things, he was still clasping the horse'sneck, and was being borne alone he knew not whither. His head ached,and his left leg was at every movement a seat of the sharpest pain. Hewas dizzy, faint, bleeding,--and too weak to raise himself from hisposition. He could not hear any noise of fighting, but that might havebeen drowned by the singing in his ears. He tried to sit up and lookaround, but the effort so increased his pain and so drew on hisnigh-fled strength, that he fell forward on the horse's neck,exhausted and half-insensible. The horse, which had merely turned andrun from the conflict at the moment of Peyton's loss of sense,galloped on.
Clouds had darkened the moon in time to prevent their captain'sunintentional defection from being seen by his troops. They had,therefore, fought on against such antagonists as, in the darkness,they could keep located. The moon reappeared, and showed many of theHessians making for the wooded hill near by, and some fleeing to theforce that had re-formed further on the road. Some of the Americanscharged this force, which thereupon fired a volley and fled, havingthe more time therefor inasmuch as the charging dragoons did not thistime possess their former speed and impetus. The dragoons, in disorderand without a leader, came to a halt. Becoming aware of Peyton'sabsence, they sought in vain the scene of recent conflict. It wassoon inferred that he had been wounded, and, therefore of no furtheruse in the combat, had retreated to a safe resting-place. It wasdecided useless to follow the enemy further towards the near Britishposts, whence the Hessians might be reinforced,--as they would havebeen, had they held the ground longer. So, having had much the betterof the fight, the surviving dragoons galloped back towards thepost-road, expecting to come upon their captain, wounded, by thewayside, at any moment. He might, indeed, to make sure of safe refuge,ride as far towards the American lines as the wound he must havereceived would allow him to do.
Such were the doings, on the windy night, beyond Locust Hill, whileElizabeth Philipse and her aunt sat drinking tea by candle-lightbefore a sputtering wood fire. Elizabeth having set the example, theothers in the house went about their business, despite the firing soplainly heard. Black Sam had, after Elizabeth's arrival, returned fromthe orchard, whither he had gone late in the day, lest he mightattract the attention of some dodging whale-boat or skulking Whig tothe few remaining apples. He had been let in at a rear door byWilliams, who had repressed him during the visit of the Americandragoons,--for Sam was a sturdy, bold fellow, of different kidney fromthe dapper, citified Cuff. At Williams's order he had made a roaringfire in the east parlor, to the great comfort of old Mr. Valentine,and was now putting the dining-room into a similar state of warmth andlight. Williams was setting out provisions for Molly presently tocook; and the maid herself was, with Cuff's assistance, replenishingthe hall chandelier with fresh candles.
The sound of firing had put Elizabeth's black boy into a tremulous andwhite-eyed state. When Molly, who stood on the settle while he handedthe candles up to her, assured him that the firing was t'other side ofLocust Hill, that the bullets would not penetrate the mahogany door,and that anyhow only one bullet in a hundred ever hit any one, Cuffaffrightedly observed 'twas just that one bullet he was afraid of; andwhen, at the third discharge, Molly dropped a candle on his woollyhead, he fell prostrate, howling that he was shot. Molly convinced himafter awhile that he was alive, but he averred he had actually had aglimpse of the harps and the golden streets, though the prospect ofsoon possessing them had rather appalled him, as indeed it does manygood people who are so sure of heaven and so fond of it. He had beenreassured but a short time, when he had new cause for terror. Again ahorse was heard galloping up to the house. It stopped before the doorand gave a loud whinny.
"LEANED FORWARD ON THE HORSE'S NECK."]
Molly exchanged with Cuff a look of mingled wonder, delight, anddoubt; then ran and opened the front door.
"Yes!" she cried. "It is! It's Miss Elizabeth's horse! It's Cato!"
Cuff ran to the threshold in great joy, but suddenly stopped short.
"Dey's a soldier on hees back," he whispered.
So Molly had noticed,--but a soldier who made no demonstration, asoldier who leaned forward on the horse's neck and clutched its mane,holding at the same time in one hand a broken sword, and who tried tosit up, but only emitted a groan of pain.
"He's wounded, that's it," said Molly. "Go and help the poor soldierin, Cuff. Don't you see he's injured? He can't hurt you."
Molly enforced her commands with such physical persuasions that Cuff,ere he well knew what he was about, was helping Peyton from the horse.The captain, revived by a supreme effort, leaned on the boy's shoulderand came limping and lurching across the porch into the hall. Mollythen went to his assistance, and with this additional aid he reachedthe settle, on which he dropped, weak, pale, and panting. He took asitting posture, gasped his thanks to Molly, and, noticing the bloodfrom his leg wound, called damnation on the Hessian officer's sword.Presently he asked for a drink of water.
At Molly's bidding the negro boy hastened for water, and also toinform his mistress of the arrival. Elizabeth, hearing the news, rosewith an exclamation; but, taking thought, sat down again, and, with apretence of composure, finished her cup of tea. Cuff returned with aglass of water to the hall, where Molly was listening to Peyton'sobjurgations on his condition. The captain took the glass eagerly, andwas about to drink, when a footstep was heard on the stairs. He turnedhis head and saw Elizabeth.
"Here's my respects, madam," quoth he, and drank off the water.
Elizabeth came down-stairs and took a position where she could lookPeyton well over. He watched her with some wonderment. When she wasquite ready she spoke:
"So, it is, indeed, the man who stole my horse."
"Pardon. I think your horse has stolen _me_! It made me an intruderhere quite against my will, I assure you."
"You will doubtless not honor us by remaining?" There was moreseriousness of curiosity in this question than Elizabeth betrayed orPeyton perceived.
"What can I do? I can neither ride nor walk."
"But your men will probably come for you?"
"I don't think any saw the horse bear me from the fight. The field wasin smoke and darkness. My troops must have pursued the enemy. They'llthink me killed or made prisoner. If they return this way, however, Ican have them stop and take me along."
"Then you expect that, in repayment of your treatment of me awhileago--" Elizabeth paused.
"Madam, you should allow for the exigencies of war! Yet, if you wishto turn me out--"
Elizabeth interrupted him:
"So it is true that, if you fell into the hands of the British, theywould hang you?"
"Doubtless! But you shouldn't blame _me_ for what _they'd_ do. And howdid you know?"
"Help this gentleman into the east parlor," said Elizabeth, abruptly,to Cuff.
"Ah!" cried Peyton, his face lighting up with quick gratitude. "Madam,you then make me your guest?" He thrust forward his head, forgetful ofhis condition.
"My guest?" rang out Elizabet
h's voice in answer. "You insolent rebel,I intend to hand you over to the British!"
There was a brief silence. Each gazed at the other.
"You will not--do that?" said Peyton, in a voice little above awhisper.
"Wait and see!" And she stood regarding him with elation.
He stared at her in blank consternation.
Again, the sound of the trample of many horses.
"Ah!" cried Peyton, joyfully. "My men returning!"
He rose to go to the door, but his wounded leg gave way, and hestaggered to the staircase, and leaned against the balustrade.
Elizabeth's look of gratification faded. She ran to the door, fastenedit with bolt and key, and stood with her back against it.
The sound, first distant as if in the Mile Square road, was nowmanifestly in the highway. Would it come southward, towards the house,or go northward, decreasing?
"They are my men!" cried Peyton to Cuff. "Call them! They'll passwithout knowing I am here. Call them, I say! Quick! They'll be out ofhearing."
"Silence!" said Elizabeth to Cuff, in a low tone, and stoodlistening.
Peyton made another attempt to move, but realized his inability. 'Twasall he could do to support himself against the balustrade.
"My God, they've gone by!" he cried. "They'll return to our lines,leaving me behind." And he shouted, "Carrington!"
The voice rang for a moment in the remoteness of the hall above. Thencomplete silence within. All in the hall remained motionless,listening. The sound of the horses came fainter and fainter.
"Carrington! Help! I'm in the manor-house,--a prisoner!"
A look of despair came over his face. On Elizabeth's the suspense gaveway to a smile of triumph.
The sound of the horses died away.