CHAPTER I.
A RURAL SCENE IN 1780.
It was near the close of the year 1780 that a solitary traveller wasseen pursuing his way through one of the numerous little valleys ofWestchester. The county of Westchester, after the British had obtainedpossession of the island of New York, became common ground, in whichboth parties continued to act for the remainder of the War of theRevolution. A large portion of its inhabitants, either restrained bytheir attachments or influenced by their fears, affected a neutralitythey did not feel. The lower towns were, of course, more particularlyunder the domain of the crown, while the upper, finding a securityfrom the vicinity of the Continental[1] troops, were bold in assertingtheir revolutionary opinions and their right to govern themselves.Great numbers, however, wore masks, which even to this day have notbeen thrown aside; and many an individual has gone down to the tombstigmatized as a foe to the rights of his countrymen, while, insecret, he has been the useful agent of the leaders of the Revolution;and, on the other hand, could the hidden repositories of diversflaming patriots have been opened to the light of day, royalprotections would have been discovered concealed under piles ofBritish gold.
[Footnote 1: The term "Continental" was applied to the army of the Colonies, to their Congress, to the money issued by Congress, etc.]
The passage of a stranger, with an appearance of somewhat doubtfulcharacter, and mounted on an animal which, although unfurnished withany of the ordinary trappings of war, partook largely of the bold andupright carriage that distinguished his rider, gave rise to manysurmises[2] among the gazing inmates of the different habitations; andin some instances, where conscience was more than ordinarily awake, toa little alarm.
[Footnote 2: guesses.]
Tired with the exercise of a day of unusual fatigue, and anxious toobtain a speedy shelter from the increasing violence of the storm,that now began to change its character to large drops of driving rain,the traveller determined, as a matter of necessity, to make anapplication for admission to the next dwelling that offered.
Sufficient light yet remained to enable the traveller to distinguishthe improvements which had been made in the cultivation and in thegeneral appearance of the grounds around the building to which he wasnow approaching. The house was of stone, long, low, and with a lowwing at each extremity. A piazza, extending along the front, withneatly turned pillars of wood, together with the good order andpreservation of the fences and out-buildings, gave the place an airaltogether superior to the common farm-houses of the country. Afterleading his horse behind an angle of the wall, where it was in somedegree protected from the wind and rain, the traveller threw hisvalise over his arm, and knocked loudly at the entrance of thebuilding for admission. An aged black soon appeared, and withoutseeming to think it necessary, under the circumstances, to consulthis superiors, first taking one prying look at the applicant by thelight of the candle in his hand, he acceded to the request foraccommodations. The traveller was shown into an extremely neat parlor,where a fire had been lighted to cheer the dulness of an easterlystorm and an October evening. After giving the valise into the keepingof his civil attendant, and politely repeating the request to the oldgentleman who rose to receive him, and paying his compliments to thethree ladies who were seated at work with their needles, the strangercommenced laying aside some of the outer garments which he had worn inhis ride.
After handing a glass of excellent Madeira to his guest, Mr. Wharton,for so was the owner of this retired estate called, resumed his seatby the fire, with another in his own hand. For a moment he paused, asif debating with his politeness, but at length he threw an inquiringglance on the stranger, as he inquired:
"To whose health am I to have the honor of drinking?"
The young ladies had again taken their seats beside the work-stand,while their aunt, Miss Jeanette Peyton, withdrew to superintend thepreparations necessary to appease the hunger of their unexpectedvisitor.
The traveller had also seated himself, and he sat unconsciously gazingon the fire while Mr. Wharton spoke; turning his eyes slowly on hishost with a look of close observation, he replied, while a faint tingegathered on his features:
"Mr. Harper."
"Mr. Harper," resumed the other, with the formal precision of thatday, "I have the honor to drink your health, and to hope you willsustain no injury from the rain to which you have been exposed."
Mr. Harper bowed in silence to the compliment, and he soon resumed themeditations from which he had been interrupted, and for which the longride he had that day made, in the wind, might seem a very naturalapology.
Mr. Wharton had in vain endeavored to pierce the disguise of hisguest's political feelings. He arose and led the way into another roomand to the supper-table. Mr. Harper offered his hand to Sarah Wharton,and they entered the room together; while Frances followed, greatly ata loss to know whether she had not wounded the feelings of herfather's inmate.
The storm began to rage in greater violence without, when a loudsummons at the outer door again called the faithful black to theportal. In a minute the servant returned, and informed his master thatanother traveller, overtaken by the storm, desired to be admitted tothe house for shelter through the night.
Some of the dishes were replaced by the orders of Miss Peyton, andthe weather-beaten intruder was invited to partake of the remains ofthe repast, from which the party had just risen. Throwing aside arough great-coat, he very composedly took the offered chair, andunceremoniously proceeded to allay the cravings of an appetite whichappeared by no means delicate. But at every mouthful he would turn anunquiet eye on Harper, who studied his appearance with a closeness ofinvestigation that was very embarrassing to its subject. At length,pouring out a glass of wine, the newcomer nodded significantly tohis examiner, previously to swallowing the liquor, and said, withsomething of bitterness in his manner:
"I drink to our better acquaintance, sir; I believe this is the firsttime we have met, though your attention would seem to say otherwise."
"I think we have never met before, sir," replied Harper, with a slightsmile on his features, rising and desiring to be shown to his place ofrest. A small boy was directed to guide him to his room; and, wishinga courteous good-night to the whole party, the traveller withdrew. Theknife and fork fell from the hands of the unwelcome intruder as thedoor closed on the retiring figure of Harper; he rose slowly fromhis seat; listening attentively, he approached the door of the room,opened it, seemed to attend to the retreating footsteps of the other,and, amidst the panic and astonishment of his companions, he closed itagain. In an instant the red wig which concealed his black locks, thelarge patch which hid half his face from observation, the stoop thathad made him appear fifty years of age, disappeared.
"My father, my dear father!" cried the handsome young man; "and you,my dearest sisters and aunt!--have I at last met you again?"
"Heaven bless you, my Henry, my son!" exclaimed the astonished butdelighted parent; while his sisters sunk on his shoulders, dissolvedin tears.