CHAPTER II
WE MEET THE MAID
We had just come in sight of the blue waters of the Elk, as it rolledbetween the forest-clad hills on either side, basking here for amoment in the sunshine, then lost in the deeper shadows of theoverhanging forest.
"There rolls the Elk," cried Dick. "Only ten miles more, and a strokeupon a piece of paper, and then, my boy, you are done for. A pain thateats its way ever inward, a thirst that never slackens, and over allthe black night lowering down. Aye, so it is, Sir Monk of the LongFace; but we will have some fun before we are put under the sod or ourbones are left to whiten on the sands."
"That we will, Sir Richard. And now we are in for it, for here comesour first adventure. Is she ugly or is she fair? Which, Sir Richard?"
For, as we reached the point where our road joins the river road, wesaw, approaching along the lower road, a gentleman riding on apowerful horse, while behind him on a pillion sat a slight girlishfigure, hidden in part by the broad shoulders of the rider.
"By Jove, it is Gordon of the Braes," said Dick.
"What, the suspected Tory?"
"Yes; and that must be his daughter. They say she is the fairest lassin all the county of Cecil."
"Tory or no Tory," said I, "with a fair face at stake, I will speak tohim."
They were as yet some distance off, but as the rider drew nearer to uswe saw that he was a splendid specimen of manhood, such as I had butseldom seen before.
While strong of frame and above the medium height, he carried himselfand rode with a courtliness and ease that bespoke the accomplishedhorseman and gentleman. His splendid head and face showed the marks ofan adventurous career, and all bespoke the blood of the family fromwhich he had sprung, the Gordons of Avochie.
But striking as was the figure of the rider, the glimpse we caught ofthe fair burden behind made us for the moment forget him.
A slender figure it was that sat upon the pillion, with wonderful eyesof the darkest blue and hair of the deepest brown that waved andclustered around the temples--a mouth that was winsome and sweet, asmall and aristocratic nose, a chin that was slightly determined,giving her altogether a queenly air, as she sat so straight and primbehind her father.
"Sir," said I, making Toby advance and bowing to his mane, "as we aretravelling the same way, will you permit us to accompany you? Myfriend is Richard Ringgold of Hunting Field and I am James Frisby ofFairlee."
"It will give me pleasure," he replied, saluting courteously, "to haveyour company to the Head of Elk. I know your families and your houseswell, and you, no doubt, have heard of me, Charles Gordon of theBraes."
"That we have," said Dick Ringgold. "It was only a week ago that mymother spoke of your first coming to old Kent."
"It was kind of her to remember me," he replied. "She was a greatbelle and a beauty in her youth."
Dick smiled with pleasure, and I, taking advantage of a narrow placein the road, fell behind, and rode so I could talk to Mistress Jean,much to Master Richard's secret indignation. But she received me witha show of displeasure, and though I courteously asked her of herjourney, it was some minutes before I knew the cause thereof.
"Are you not," said she, and her aristocratic little head was in theair, "afraid to be seen riding with suspected Tories, you who wear theblack cockade?"
And then I remembered that I wore the emblem of our party.
"Afraid!" I replied. "Afraid! We who have bearded the Ministers of theCrown in the broad light of day? Do you think I am afraid of our ownmen? Why, if Mistress North herself were half as fair as your ladyshipof the Braes, I would ride with her through all the armies of thepatriots, and no man would dare say me nay."
A merry twinkle came into her eyes. "Would you wear the red cockade ifshe should ask you?"
"Ah, Mistress Jean, would you seduce me from my allegiance to thecause of the patriots?"
"To the cause of the patriots? What of your allegiance to the King?"
"But the King himself has broken that, and forced us in self-defenceto take up arms in revolt. Would you have me true to my people, or tothe King, who is over the sea?"
"To the King," she answered promptly, "for the King's Ministers may bebad men to-day and good to-morrow, but if you once strike a blow atthe mother country and win, then the ties of love, of friendship, andof interest are severed for ever."
"Yes; but she should have thought of that before she forced us to it."
"What spoiled children you are," she cried. "Because the taffy is notas good as usual you want to pull the house down about our ears."
Thus receiving and parrying thrusts, we rode along the banks of theElk, and as we neared the ferry we met numbers of men travelling thesame way with us, all bound for the great mustering, and though theyreturned our salutations, seeing the black cockade in our hats, theyscowled on Gordon of the Braes.
"There goes that dog of a Tory," I would hear them growl to oneanother as we passed.
But Gordon rode on with a cool, indifferent, almost contemptuousmanner, which made the frowns grow blacker, and the mutterings deeperand louder. But no man as yet sought to beard him, for his courage andhis daring were well known throughout the shore, and it would havetaken a bold man indeed to cross Gordon of the Braes.
At last we came to the ferry and saw on the hillside, among the foresttrees, the white tents, already taking on the appearance of awell-regulated camp. The little town amid the trees, busy with thelife of the moving crowd, and bright with the uniforms of the MarylandLine, which we were soon to don, formed a curious spectacle as weentered.
Every part of the province was represented. Here was a tallbackwoodsman in his coonskin cap, buckskin shirt and leggings, withhis long and deadly rifle, totally unadorned by the glint of silver orchasing on the barrel to betray him to his redskin neighbour--and youknew that one of Cresap's riflemen was before you.
By his side, for the moment, was a young tobacco planter from PrinceGeorge. The youngster to whom he was talking, clad in the scarlet andbuff of the Maryland Line, was a young dandy from Annapolis.
And so it was all through the crowd, the frontiersman, the hard-ridingcountry squire, and the city swell, all mingled together, and allanimated with one all-pervading and all-engrossing thought--how bestto secure the freedom of the country and resist the tyranny of theKing.
As we made our way through the crowd the faces grew dark as they sawthe Tory, but as Dick and I rode on either hand, with our blackcockades, the crowd murmuringly gave way before us, and though all thepeople were hostile to him, and he could not help but see it, hecoolly looked them over and rode as if he had no enemy within ahundred miles.
But the colour in Mistress Jean's cheek flamed high, and I saw herlittle hands clenched together, as if she would like to tell theserebels what she thought of their treatment of her father. And I,seeing the war signal so clearly on her cheek, and daring not thebatteries of her eyes and wit, was discreet and said not a word.
We took our way to the inn, kept by one John McLean, a genial host andScotchman, who was well known in three provinces, and kept the finestinn for many miles around.
He received us in a jovial way, for though he was a stanch patriot, heand Gordon had been friends for many years.
"So, Mistress Jean, you have deigned to honour my roof with yourpresence. Welcome, welcome, all of you."
And though I had swung myself off Toby to assist Mistress Jean todismount, he was before me and swung her lightly to the ground.
"I declare," he said, "you grow bonnier every day, lassie," whichbrought a blush to her cheek. Then, turning, he called his wife andplaced Mistress Jean in her charge.
"I am sorry to say, gentlemen, that the inn is very crowded, as yousee, but I think I can find a place for you." Then drawing the Toryaside for a little way, we heard him remonstrating with him for comingto the town at such a time, when the feeling ran so strong and highagainst the Loyalist.
"You risk your life," he said, "for the slightest spark orindiscretion
will bring a mob, boiling and seething around you. Theofficers will not be able to hold the men in, as they are onlyvolunteers, and have not yet felt the hand of discipline."
But Charles Gordon shrugged his shoulders, and his reply camedistinct and clear: "I thought you knew me better, McLean. I wouldnot hide my head for a hundred or a thousand of them;" and he turnedand went into the inn.
The innkeeper made a gesture of despair. "That is always the way,"said he, "both in this country and the old; tell a Gordon of a dangerand he will rush right into it, and then expect to come out safe andsound."
We laughed, for the expression on the old Scotchman's face was sodroll.
"But now for your room, gentlemen;" and he led the way to a small roomunder the gable roof. "It is the only room I have left," he said, "butyou are welcome to it."
It was now somewhat late in the afternoon, but having made ourselvespresentable and partaken of a lunch, we went to report ourselves toCaptain Ramsay of the 1st Regiment of the Maryland Line.
He received us at his tent door with a warm grasp of the hand. "Youare the very lads I have been waiting for," he said. "I have twoLieutenancies to fill, and you are the men to fill them."
"But, Captain," said Dick Ringgold, "we have not been tried yet. Letus go into the ranks and fight our way up, as so many better men thanwe are doing."
I could not help admiring Dick for his modesty, and though I, too,said the same thing, I confess I hoped the Captain would not hear ofit, and so it proved.
"No, no," he said, and patted Dick on the shoulder. "I must have you;I know the blood that runs in your veins, lads, and that I will haveno better fighting stock in the army." And thus it was settled, andwe became officers in that Maryland Line, and--I say it with all duemodesty--the most famous of all the fighting regiments in the strugglefor the Great Cause.