THE LIBRARY OF THE 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF 
 
 NORTH CAROLINA 
 
 THE COLLECTION OF 
 NORTH CAROLINIANA 
 
 C813 
 K36j,l 
 
FOR USE ONLY IN 
 THE NORTH CAROLINA COLLECTION j 
 
 1 
 
 -368 
 
"She swept him a courtesy full of open defiance ani> 
 
 ridicule." 
 
JOSCELYN CHESHIRE 
 
 A STORY OF REVOLUTIONARY DAYS 
 IN THE CAROLINAS 
 
 BY 
 
 SARA BEAUMONT KENNEDY 
 
 NEW YORK 
 DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & CO. 
 
 1902 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER 
 
 I. Cupid and Mars .... 
 
 n. The March of the Continentals 
 
 III. Onward to Yalley Forge 
 
 IV. The Company on the Veranda 
 V. Winding the Skein 
 
 VI. The Fete at Philadelphia 
 
 VII. A Dare-devil Deed .... 
 
 Vni. A Maid's Dream and the Devil's Wooing 
 
 IX. On Monmouth Plain . . . 
 
 X. In Clinton's Tents .... 
 
 XI. From Camp to Prison . . . 
 
 XII. A Message out of the North . 
 
 XIII. Dreams 
 
 XIV. News of Love and War ... 
 XV. An Awakening and a INIeeting . 
 
 XVI. Into the Jaws of Death . 
 
 XYII. Out of the Shadow and into the Sun 
 
 XVIII. " Kiss me quick, and let me go " . 
 
 XIX. The Wearing of a Red Rose . 
 
 XX. Joscelyn's Peril .... 
 
 XXI. Trapped 
 
 PASS 
 
 1 
 
 10 
 
 20 
 
 25 
 
 35 
 
 43 
 
 56 
 
 65 
 
 73 
 
 81 
 
 93 
 
 104 
 
 120 
 
 128 
 
 141 
 
 151 
 
 163 
 
 181 
 
 192 
 
 204 
 
 217 
 
 vu 
 
VIU 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 
 OBAPTEB 
 
 
 PAGB 
 
 XXTT. 
 
 " Search my Lady's Wardrobe ** 
 
 . 227 
 
 xxni. 
 
 In Tarleton's Toils 
 
 . 242 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 Thwarted .... 
 
 . 263 
 
 XXV. 
 
 Good-by, Sweetheart . 
 
 . 278 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 By the Beleaguered City 
 
 . 293 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 Homecomings . . . 
 
 . 305 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 An Unanswered Question . 
 
 . 320 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 The End of the Thread 
 
 . 331 
 
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 FACUJQ PAGE 
 
 J^'rontispiece. " She swept him a courtesy 
 full of open defiance and ridicule." 
 
 •'Thus they passed, with small parley, the 
 
 picket-posts." ...... 48 
 
 " Richard was dragged along with the Brit- 
 ish until their position was regained " . 81 
 
 ". . . The Prisoners lined up and answered 
 
 to their names " . . . . . . 149 
 
 "For a long minute he stood there, trem- 
 bling, horror-stricken " . . . , .164 
 
 " 'My God, Joscelyn, you will not give me 
 
 up like that ! ' " 226 
 
 " ' I have seen no human being save our party 
 
 of three' " 262 
 
 " ' My Heart's prisoner for time and eternity' " c 331 
 
JOSCELYN CHESHIRE. 
 
 CHAPTEK L 
 
 CUPID AND MAES. 
 
 " Thy head is as full of quarrels as an egg is fuU of meat." 
 
 — Shakespeare. 
 
 TTE threw the door wide open and, with one 
 -^-*- foot advanced and his weight on the other 
 hip, stood at pose with uplifted arm and sword ; 
 as gallant a figure as ever melted a maiden's heart 
 or stormed a foeman's citadel. There was great 
 suggestion of power in the straight limbs, a mar- 
 vellous promise of strength in the upward sweep 
 of the arm, which, for a moment, held the inmates 
 of the room in silence of admiration. Then an 
 avalanche of exclamations broke loose. 
 
 " Eichard, Kichard ! " 
 
 " Master Clevering ! " 
 
 " A health to the young Continental ! " 
 
 " Oh, the new uniform, how bravely it doth 
 become him ! " 
 
 " The buff and blue forever ! " 
 
 " What an air the coat gives him." 
 
 " And the breeches have never a wrinkle in 
 them. I have ever said, my son, that you were 
 
 1 
 
2 JOSCELTN CHESHIRE. 
 
 not over fair of feature, but that the Lord made 
 it up to you in the shape o' your legs." The last 
 speaker was his mother, who, passing behind him, 
 ran her fingers caressingly along the seams of his 
 military outfit. 
 
 The young man lowered his sword and answered 
 with a boyish laugh : " And truly did the Lord 
 owe me a debt in that He gave me not your 
 beauty, mother." 
 
 " He balanced His account," was the complacent 
 answer, " for you are a fit figure to please even a 
 king." 
 
 "JSTay, I care not to please the king — but the 
 assembled queens ! " He doffed his hat, and bowed 
 with courtly grace to the group of young women 
 in the centre of the room. 
 
 Full of laughter and chaffing they crowded 
 about him — his sister Betty, her friend Patience 
 Ruffin, Mistress Dorothy Graham, who had come 
 in to learn a new knitting stitch of Betty, and 
 pretty Janet Cameron, who had followed Dorothy 
 to hear the gossip which must necessarily flow 
 freely where so many women were assembled. 
 Immediately they surrounded the young soldier, 
 and there was much laughter and talking as they 
 relieved him of his sword and gun. 
 
 " Only a private in the ranks, and yet here am 
 I attended like a commander-in-chief," he said, 
 laughing. " Methinks no hero of olden romance 
 had ever such charming squirage. Are you going 
 to give me your gloves and fasten your colours on 
 
CUPID AND MARS. 3 
 
 my helmet, that I may go forth to battle as did 
 the knights of yore ? " 
 
 " Yes ; kill me a Redcoat for this," and Janet 
 tossed him her glove, while Dorothy tied a strand 
 of the bright wool from her knitting ball upon his 
 sleeve. " An you win not a battle for each of us, 
 you are no knight of ours." 
 
 But the fifth girl of the group, after one glance 
 at him upon his entrance, had turned abruptly to 
 the window and stood gazing into the street, tap- 
 ping the air to " King George, Our Royal Ruler " 
 upon the panes, No part of her face was visi- 
 ble, but her attitude was spirited, and the poise 
 of her head bespoke defiance. Richard Clever- 
 ing's eyes travelled every few minutes to that 
 straight, lithe figure, and anon he called out banter- 
 ingly : — 
 
 "Hey, you, there at the window, are King 
 George and his army passing by that you have no 
 eyes for other folk ? " 
 
 " I would that they were," was the short answer, 
 and the fingers went on with their strumming. 
 
 " Come, Joscelyn, leave off sulking and see how 
 brave Richard's uniform doth make him," said 
 Betty, coaxingi}'^, eager that her brother's unspoken 
 wish should be gratified. 
 
 "And truly doth he need somewhat to make 
 him brave, seeing he is in arms against his king," 
 Joscelyn retorted, but turned not her head. 
 
 " In arms against the king ? Aye, truly am I ; 
 and yours be not the only Royalist back I shall 
 
* JOSCELTN CHESHIRE. 
 
 see 'twixt this and the end of the campaign, 
 Mistress Joscelyn Cheshire." 
 
 "Then, forsooth, will they be in luck — not 
 having you to look at." 
 
 But the others had caught his meaning, and her 
 retort was half lost in the shout of laughter that 
 greeted him. 
 
 " Aye, I warrant me when the fighting comes 
 you will see the backs of so many Eedcoats 
 that you can e'en cut their pattern in the dark," 
 declared Dorothy. 
 
 "Then will his head be twisted forever awry 
 with looking so much over his shoulder behind 
 him." 
 
 "My Lady Eoyalist's ears are in the room 
 though her eyes be elsewhere," laughed Janet. 
 
 "And neither is her tongue paralyzed. Turn 
 about, Joscelyn, and let us see you have also other 
 power of motion." 
 
 " Not quite so much as some folk who turn like 
 a weather-cock in every gust of a partisan wind." 
 
 Thus the sparring went on until the visitors 
 took their departure, followed to the gate by Mis- 
 tress Clevering and her daughter for that one last 
 word which women so love. Eichard bowed 
 them out and closed the door upon their backs ; 
 then, marching straight to the window, he placed 
 himself by Joscelyn, M'-ho immediately turned her 
 face in the opposite direction. He spoke to her, 
 but only a shrug of the shoulders answered him. 
 
 " You shall look at me," he cried, with sudden 
 
CUPID AND MARS. 
 
 determination ; and, seizing her by the shoulders, 
 he twisted her about until she faced him ; but 
 even then he did not accomplish his purpose, for 
 she covered her face with her hands, declaring 
 vehemently she would rather see him in his 
 shroud than in the uniform of a traitor. 
 
 " Traitor, forsooth ! You know not whereof 
 you speak. In what button or seam see you 
 aught that is traitorous?" He dragged her hands 
 from her face, and held them in his strong grip ; 
 but still he was foiled, for her eyes were tightly 
 closed. " An you open not your eyes immediately, 
 I will kiss them soundly upon either lid." 
 
 Which threat had the desired effect, for in- 
 stantly the lashes parted and a pair of sea-blue 
 eyes looked angrily into his. 
 
 "So — I have brought you to terms. "Well, 
 and what think you of my uniform ? " 
 
 "Methinks," and her voice was not pleasant to 
 hear, " that 'tis most fitting apparel for one who 
 refuses allegiance to his king and — uses his 
 greater strength against a woman." 
 
 He flung her hands away with what, for him, 
 was near to roughness. "By the eternal stars, 
 Joscelyn, your tongue has a double edge ! " 
 
 "A woman has need of a sharp tongue since 
 Providence gave her but indifferent fists." 
 
 " In sooth, it is the truth w^ith you," he cried, 
 his good-humour restored as he again caught one 
 of her slender hands and held it up for inspec- 
 tion. "JS'ature wasted not much material here; 
 
6 JOSCELYN CHESHIRE. 
 
 methinks it would scarce fill a fly with appre- 
 hension." 
 
 But she wrung it out of his grasp, and, with an 
 exclamation of annoyance, turned once more to 
 the window. His expression changed, and he 
 stood some moments regarding her in silence. 
 At last he said : — 
 
 " Joscelyn, 'tis now more than two years since 
 you came to live neighbours with us, and for the 
 last half of that time you and I have done little 
 else than quarrel. But on my part this disagree- 
 ment has not gone below the surface ; rather has 
 it been a covering for a tenderer feeling. I have 
 heard it said that a woman knows instinctively 
 when a man loves her. Have you spelled out 
 my heart under this show of dispute ? " 
 
 She shrugged her shoulders mockingly. " I am 
 but an indifferent speller, Master Clevering." 
 
 " Right well do I know that, having seen some 
 of your letters to Betty," he answered with ready 
 acquiescence. Whereat she flashed upon him a 
 glance of indignant protest; but he went on 
 calmly, as though he noted not the look : " But 
 you are a fair reader, and mayhap I used a wrong 
 term. Have you not read my heart all these 
 months " ? 
 
 " It is not given even unto the wise to read so 
 absolute a blank." 
 
 It was his time to wince, but the minutes were 
 flying, the women might return from the gate 
 at any moment, and this would be his last chance 
 
CUPID AND MAES. 
 
 for a quiet word with her. "Let us have done 
 with this child's play, Josceljn. To-morrow I 
 march with ray company ; 'twill be months, per- 
 haps years, before we meet again. I love you ! 
 "Will you not give me some gentle word, some 
 sweet promise, to fill with hope the time that is 
 to come ? " 
 
 " What manner of promise can you wish ? " she 
 asked, her back still toward him. 
 
 " A promise which shall mean our betrothal." 
 
 " Betrothal ? — and we always quarrelling ? " 
 
 " Quarrels cease where love doth rule," he 
 answered softly. 
 
 " But I have no love for you." 
 
 " You might have if you would cease dwelling 
 so much on the king's affairs and think somewhat 
 of me. I would give you love unqualified if so 
 you would but lean ever so little my way." 
 
 "And think you. Master Clevering, that I 
 would turn traitor for your love ? I^ay, sir ; I 
 am a loyal subject to King George, and can enter 
 into no compact with his enemies." 
 
 " Then will I be forced to conquer you along 
 with the other adherents of the tyrant, for have 
 you I will," he cried impetuoush^ "An you 
 yield not to persuasion, you shall yield to force. 
 From this day I hold you as a part of the Eng- 
 lish enemy who needs must be subdued ; and I do 
 hereby proclaim war against j^our prejudice for 
 your heart." 
 
 " And I do accept the challenge, foreseeing 
 
8 JOSCELTN CHESHIRE. 
 
 your failure in both causes." She swept him a 
 courtesy full of open defiance and ridicule, and 
 again turned her back upon him as Betty entered 
 the room. 
 
 But Master Clevering was neither dismaj^^ed nor 
 discouraged by the turn his wooing had taken. 
 He had never thought to win her lightly, and 
 his combative disposition recognized in the pros- 
 pect before him the elements of a struggle, so 
 that he was filled with the keen joy of a warrior 
 at the onset of the fray. The possibility of final 
 defeat did not occur to him. 
 
 Bidding Betty an affectionate good-by, Joscelyn 
 quitted the house, declining his proffered escort, 
 nor did he speak with her again for a space of 
 many hours ; for when the company, bidden that 
 night to a farewell feast with him, assembled 
 about the board, the chair set for her was vacant. 
 Betty and Janet glanced meaningly at each other, 
 for they had seen her at dusk in company with 
 Eustace and Mary Singleton, and the Singletons 
 were among the most pronounced Tories in the 
 county. But at the other end of the table Rich- 
 ard only laughed as he thrust his knife into the 
 fowl before him and felt for the joint. 
 
 " Tell her, Aunt Cheshire, that our loss does not 
 equal hers, since she gets none of this bird, which 
 is browned to the taste of Epicurus himself." 
 
 His tone was careless, and in truth he was not 
 surprised at her defection, for he, too, had seen 
 the Singletons at her gate; and later on, as he 
 
CUPID AND MAKS. 9 
 
 stood at his own door, had seen her, through her 
 lighted parlour window opposite, take off, for the 
 entertainment of her guests, his own theatrical 
 entrance in his uniform that afternoon. She was 
 an excellent mimic, and her sense of humour 
 enabled her to give a ludicrous side to the scene, 
 which drew forth peals of laughter from her audi- 
 tors. The vanity, the swagger, the monumental 
 pose, were so exactly reproduced that Kichard felt 
 a quick tingle of irritation flush his veins. And 
 that picture w^as still in his mind as he sat at 
 table among his guests. 
 
 It is questionable whether it would have been 
 an added nettlement or a relief had he known 
 that she had been aware of his presence across 
 the way, seeing him distinctly against the hall 
 light behind him, and that the scene enacted was 
 more for him than for her visitors. 
 
CHAPTEE II. 
 
 THE MARCH OF THE CONTINENTALS. 
 *' Thou art gone from my gaze like a beautiful dream." 
 
 LiNLET. 
 
 npHE Cheshires and Cleverings were not akin, 
 -*- although the young people gave titles of 
 kinship to the older folk. Mistress Cheshire had 
 been twice married, her first husband being 
 brother to James Clevering. After her second 
 widowhood she had moved from New Berne to 
 Hillsboro'-town, to be near her brother-in-law, for 
 neither she nor her last husband had any nearer 
 male relative this side of the sea. There had been 
 no quarrel with the Cleverings concerning her 
 second marriage, so that she found in Hillsboro' 
 a ready welcome. The inland town promised 
 more peace than the bustling seaport whence she 
 had moved. There news of king and colony came 
 in with every vessel that cast anchor at the 
 wharves, and, as a result, the community was in 
 a constant state of ferment. All this was very 
 repugnant to Mistress Cheshire, who was a timid 
 woman with no very decided views upon public 
 questions. Her one ruling desire was for peace, 
 no matter whence the source ; she had lived quite 
 happily under the king's sceptre ; but if Washing- 
 
 10 
 
THE MARCH OF THE CONTINENTALS. 11 
 
 ton could establish a safe and quiet government, 
 she would have no quarrel either with him or fate. 
 But Joscelyn was different. Her father had 
 been an ardent advocate of kingly rule, and she 
 had imbibed all of his enthusiasm for England 
 and English sovereignty. He had died just 
 before the battle of Lexington set the western 
 continent athrob with a new national life. Con- 
 sequently, the removal from ISTew Berne had 
 been much against Joscelyn's inclination, for she 
 desired to be in the front and press of the excite- 
 ment. But seeing how her mother's heart was 
 set on it, she finally withdrew her opposition. 
 Still she carried to her new home the bitter Tory- 
 ism with which her father had so deeply ingrained 
 her nature. In another atmosphere this feeling 
 might have spent itself in idle fancies and vain 
 regrets ; but in daily, almost hourly, contact with 
 the Cleverings, whose patriotism w^as ever at high 
 tide, she was kept constantly on the defensive, and 
 in a spirit of resistance that knew no compromise. 
 The elder Cleverings and Betty looked upon her 
 outbreaks good-humouredly, treating them as the 
 whims of a spoiled child. But not so Eichard. 
 His whole soul was in the revolt of the colonies ; 
 every nerve in him was attuned to war and strife, 
 and he was vehemently intolerant of any adverse 
 opinion, so that between him and Joscelyn the 
 subject came to be as flint and steel. He did not 
 scruple to tell her that she was foolish, obstinate, 
 logically blind, and that her opinions were not of 
 
12 JOSCELYN CHESHIRE. 
 
 the smallest consequence ; and yet the staunch 
 loyalty with which she defended her cause, and 
 the ready defiance with which she met his every 
 attack won his admiration. Yery speedily he 
 separated her personality from her views, and 
 loved the one while he despised the other. 
 Nothing but fear of her ridicule had hitherto 
 held him silent upon the subject of his love. 
 
 While the merry-making went on at the Clev- 
 -erings' that last night of his stay at home, Josce- 
 lyn sat playing cards with the Singletons, whom 
 she persuaded to remain to tea, making her lone- 
 liness her plea. 
 
 " It passes my understanding," said Eustace, as 
 he slowly shuffled the cards, " how these insur- 
 gents can hope to win. Even their so-called con- 
 gress has had to move twice before the advance 
 of his Majesty's troops. A nation that has two 
 seats of government in two years seems rather 
 shifty on its base." 
 
 " It must have been a brave sight to see General 
 Howe march into Philadelphia," said Joscelyn. 
 "Methinks I can almost hear the drums beat and 
 see the flags flying in the wind. Would I had 
 been there to cry ' long live the king ' with the 
 faithful of the land." 
 
 But Mary shuddered. " I am content to be no 
 nearer than I am to the battle scenes. The mus- 
 tering of the Continental company to-day has sat- 
 isfied my eyes with martial shows." 
 
 " Call you that a martial show ? " her brother 
 
THE MARCH OF THE CONTINENTALS. 13 
 
 laughed derisively. ""Why, that was but a shabby 
 make-believe with only half of the men properly 
 uniformed and equipped. Martial show, indeed ! 
 Kather was it a gathering of scarecrows. I proph- 
 esy that in six months the ' indomitable army of 
 the young Kepublic,' as the leaders style the 
 undisciplined rabble that follows them, will be 
 again quietly ploughing their fields or looking 
 after other private affairs." 
 
 " And while you are prophesying you are play- 
 ing your cards most foolishly, and I am defeating 
 you." 
 
 " True, you have me fairly with that ace. Let 
 us try it again — ' Deprissa resurgit,' as the Conti- 
 nentals say on their worthless paper money." 
 
 "Joscelyn," said Mary suddenly, "did I tell 
 you that Aunt Ann said in her letter that Cousin 
 Ellen wore a yellow silk to the ball given to 
 welcome General Howe to Philadelphia?" 
 
 " 1 do believe you left out that important item," 
 laughed Joscelyn. 
 
 " Why, how came you to be so remiss, I pray 
 you, sister? The flight of congress from the 
 Quaker city, and its seizure by his Majesty's 
 troops, are but insignificant matters compared to 
 the fact that our cousin wore yellow silk to the 
 general's ball," teased her brother. "Whereupon 
 Mary went pouting across the room and sat at 
 the window, calling out to the players at the table 
 the names of those who went in and out of the 
 house of festivity opposite. 
 
14 JOSCELYN CHESHIRE. 
 
 " Yonder are Mistress Strudwick and Doris 
 Henderson — dear me ! I wonder what it feels 
 like to be so stout as Mistress Strudwick ? Billy 
 Bryce and his mother are just behind them. I 
 see Janet and Betty through the window. Betty 
 has on that pink brocade with the white lace." 
 
 " Then I warrant some of those recruits will go 
 to the war already wounded, for in that gown 
 Mistress Betty is sweet enough to break any 
 man's heart." 
 
 " Eustace, I do believe you are halfway in love 
 with Betty." 
 
 " Why put it only halfway, my dear ? The 
 whole is ever better than a part." 
 
 " What think you, Joscelyn, is he in earnest ? 
 And how does Betty like him ? " 
 
 But Joscelyn laughingly quoted the biblical 
 text about being " unevenly yoked together with 
 unbelievers," reminding Mary that Betty was a 
 Whig, and Eustace a Loyalist, and this was a bar 
 that even Cupid must not pull down. Whereupon 
 Eustace laughed aloud ; and Mary was satisfied. 
 
 Early the next morning Betty ran over to make 
 her protest against Joscelyn's absence of the night 
 before. " Richard seemed not to care, but mother 
 and I were much chagrined that you did not 
 come." 
 
 " I certainly meant no offence to you and Aunt 
 Cleverino:," answered Joscelvn, " but Richard and 
 I have a way of forgetting our company manners 
 which is most unpleasant to spectators." 
 
THE MARCH OF THE CONTINENTALS. 15 
 
 " Yes ; mother read Eichard a most proper 
 lecture this morning about the way he quarrels 
 with you, and he is coming over later to make his 
 peace ; he says he thinks that perhaps mother is 
 right, and that he will feel better to carry in his 
 heart no grudge against any one when he goes 
 into battle. And you must be very kind to him, 
 Joscelyn, for it is a great concession on his part 
 to apologize thus. Supposing if — if anything 
 happened to him, and you had sent him away in 
 anger ! " 
 
 Joscelyn drew the young girl to her, " So you 
 have appointed yourself keeper-in-chief of my 
 conscience ? "Well, well ; I will hold a most strict 
 watch over my tongue during the next few hours, 
 so that it may give you no offence. Still, I am 
 not easily conscience-stricken, and neither, I think, 
 is Master Clevering." 
 
 " The Singletons passed the evening with you, 
 did they not ? " asked Betty, who had glanced 
 across at her friend's window the night before, 
 and had seen them playing cards together. 
 
 "Yes; and Eustace said some very pretty 
 things about you and your pink frock, "What a 
 pity you are of different political beliefs, for — 
 Why, Betty, what a beautiful colour has come into 
 your cheeks," 
 
 " Stuff, Joscelvn ! But — what said Master Sin- 
 gleton ? " And when the speech was repeated, 
 the girl's sweet face was redder than ever. 
 
 For a few moments Joscelyn looked at her in 
 
16 JOSCELTN CHESHIRE. 
 
 consternation. Betty cared for Eustace! It 
 seemed the very acme of irony. Then tenderly 
 she stroked the brown hair, wondering silently 
 at the game of cross-purposes love is always play- 
 ing. Uncle and Aunt Clevering, with their vio- 
 lent views, would follow Betty to her grave rather 
 than to her bridal with Eustace, for, besides the 
 party differences, the older folk of the two fami- 
 lies had long been separated by a bitter quarrel 
 over a title-deed, Joscelyn's own friendship for 
 Mary and Eustace had been the cause of some 
 sharp words between her and her uncle ; a thou- 
 sand times more would he resent Betty's defec- 
 tion. " But they shall not break her heart ! " 
 she said to herself, with a sudden tightening of 
 her arms about the clinging girl. 
 
 An hour later Richard knocked at the door and 
 was admitted by Mistress Cheshire, for Joscelyn 
 had gone to her own room at the sound of his 
 step outside. 
 
 " No, I will not come down. I have promised 
 Betty not to quarrel w^ith him, and the only way 
 to keep my word is not to see him," she said to 
 her mother over the banister. " Tell him I hope 
 he will soon come back whole of body, but as glo- 
 riously defeated as all rebels deserve to be." 
 
 In vain her mother urged, and in vain Bichard 
 called from the foot of the stair ; she neither an- 
 swered nor appeared in sight. 
 
 " Tell her. Aunt Cheshire, that I never thought 
 to find her hiding in her covert; a soldier who 
 
THE MARCH OF THE CONTINENTALS. 17 
 
 believes in his cause hesitates not to meet his 
 adversary in open field ; it is the doubtful in cour- 
 age or confidence who run to cover." And he 
 went down tlie step with his head up angrily 
 and his sword clanging behind him. 
 
 In the upper hall Joscelyn held her hands tightly 
 over her mouth to force back the stinging retort. 
 Then, with a derisive smile, she went downstairs 
 and sat in the hall window, in plain view of the 
 street and the house across the way. 
 
 That afternoon his company marched afield. 
 The town was full of noise and excitement, and 
 the mingled sound of sobbing and of forced laugh- 
 ter, as the line was formed in the market-place and 
 moved with martial step down the long, unpaved 
 street, the rolling drums and clear-toned bugles 
 stirring the blood to a frenzy of enthusiasm. The 
 sidewalks were lined with spectators, the patriots 
 shouting, th ^ luke-warm looking on silently. Every 
 house along the route through the town was hung 
 with wind-swung wreaths of evergreen or stream- 
 ers of the bonny buff and blue — every one until 
 they reached the Cheshire dwelling. There the 
 shutters were close drawn as though some grief 
 brooded within, and upon the outside of the closed 
 door hung a picture of King George framed in 
 countless loops of scarlet ribbon that flamed out 
 like a sun-blown poppy by contrast with the 
 soberer tints of the Continentals. Here was a 
 challenge that none might misunderstand. The 
 sight was as the red rao: in the toreador's hand 
 
18 JOSCELYN CHESHIRE. 
 
 to the bull in the arena ; and, like an infuriated 
 animal, the crowd surged and swayed and rent the 
 air with an angry roar. The marching line came 
 suddenly to a full stop without a word of com- 
 mand, and the roar was interspersed with hisses. 
 Then there was a rush forward, and twenty 
 hands tore at the pictured face and flaunting 
 ribbons, and brought them out to be trampled 
 under foot in the dust of the road, while a voice 
 cried out of the crowd : — 
 
 " Down with the Eoyalists ! Fire ! " 
 
 And there was a rattle and a flash of steel down 
 the martial line as muskets went to shoulders. 
 But Kichard Clevering, pale with fear, sprang to 
 the steps between the deadly muzzles and the door 
 and lifted a hand to either upright, while his voice 
 rang like a trumpet down the line : — 
 
 " Stay ! There are no men here. This is but 
 a girl's mad prank. Men, men, turn not your 
 guns against two lonely women ; save your weap- 
 ons for rightful game ! Shoulder arms ! For- 
 ward ! March ! " 
 
 There was a moment's hesitation, a muttering 
 down the ranks ; then the guns were shouldered 
 and the column fell once more into step with the 
 drums, while the crowd shouted its approval. But 
 above the last echoes of that shout a woman's 
 jeering laugh rang out upon the air ; and, lifting 
 eyes, the crowd beheld Joscelyn Cheshire, clad in 
 a scarlet satin bodice, lean out of her opened case- 
 ment and knot a bunch of that same bright-hued 
 
THE MARCH OF THE CONTINENTALS. 19 
 
 ribbon upon the shutter. With the throng in such 
 volcanic temper it was a perilous thing to do ; and 
 yet so insidious was her daring, so great her beauty, 
 that not so much as a stone was cast at this new 
 signal of loyalty, and not a voice was lifted in 
 anger. 
 
 And this was the last vision that Richard had 
 of her — the vivid, glowing picture he carried in 
 his heart through the long campaigns, whether it 
 was as he rushed through the smoke-swirls of 
 battle or bivouacked under the cold, white stars. 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 ONWARD TO VALLEY FORGE. 
 
 " He is the freeman whom the truth makes free, 
 And all are slaves besides." 
 
 — COWPKR. 
 
 rilHE colony of Korth Carolina had long been 
 -■- ready for rebellion against kingly authority. 
 Governor Tryon had sown the seeds of discontent 
 by his unpopular measures, and the taxes levied 
 upon the people that he might build his " palace " 
 at New Berne. This discontent had culminated in 
 the insurrection of the Regulators and the battle 
 of Alamance, where was made the first armed 
 stand against England. But Tryon was victo- 
 rious, and the captured leaders of the insurrection 
 were handed on Recjulators' hill in Hillsboro'- 
 town. But from that field of Alamance, the 
 defeated people carried to their homes the same 
 persistent, haunting dream of liberty wdiich was 
 to rise incarnate when the tocsin of the Revolution 
 blew through the land. 
 
 That tocsin waked many an echo among the hills 
 that surrounded the town upon the Eno. At the 
 first call to arms, the older men had gone to the 
 field, some marching away to the north, others serv- 
 
 20 
 
ONWAKD TO VALLEY FORGE. 21 
 
 ing under the partisan leaders throughout their own 
 section. Now the younger ones — those who had 
 been but boys when the cannon at Lexington made 
 the pulse of the people first to quicken and throb 
 — were going out to bear their share in the fray. 
 
 For the past year the company of which Kich- 
 ard Clevering was a member had done service in 
 the militia at home, keeping the Tories in a sem- 
 blance of subjection, and now and then going to 
 Sumter's aid when he made one of those electrical 
 :3allies which were like lightning flashes amid the 
 general storm. In this hard school Eichard had 
 learned his first lessons in soldiering ; but graver 
 and sterner military work was now ahead, for the 
 company was marching northward to aid in recruit- 
 ing Washington's regular army, reduced and dis- 
 couraged by the terrible winter at Yalley Forge. 
 
 When they started, the willows that fringed the 
 Eno, that fierce little river that wands about Hills- 
 boro', had already lost their winter grayness, and, 
 with the rising of the sap, had taken on that won- 
 derful golden brown which is the aureole of the 
 coming springtime. The bluebirds had not yet 
 come back to the fence corners, but the earth was 
 soggy with the thaw, and from under the whirls 
 of last year's dead leaves, crocuses were holding 
 up green signals to the sun. But as the troop 
 held their steady way to the north the spring 
 signs disappeared, and hoar frost and bleak winds 
 ■told that winter's reign was not yet over. 
 
 It was a long tramp up through the Virginia 
 
22 JOSCELTN CHESHIRE. 
 
 woods and along the salt marshes of the coast, 
 and down and up the desolate streams hunting a 
 ford. But youth and enthusiasm lighten many a 
 burden, and to Richard the greatest hardship was 
 lack of news from Joscelyn. The thought of her 
 tugged at his heart, and if his step ever lagged in 
 the line, it was because the memory of her face 
 drew him back with that sickening sense of long- 
 ing that youth finds so hard to resist. At every 
 chance he sent her a missive. 
 
 " Not that she will care, but just to show her / 
 do," he said, trying to convince himself there was 
 no bitterness in the thought. 
 
 Peter RuflBn, marching beside him, often looked 
 at the knit brows and compressed lips and smiled, 
 guessing something of the cause ; he said to him- 
 self that it was safer to leave a wife behind than 
 a sweetheart, since one was sure to find the wife 
 waiting his return, while a sweetheart might be 
 gone with a fresher fancy. But little Billy Bryce, 
 who could never have kept up with the line had it 
 not been for Richard's aid now and then, could 
 not fathom the meaning of that dark look in his 
 benefactor's face, and so was silent and sorry. 
 
 The March winds tore at them, and the storms 
 pelted them as they tramped the rugged roads or 
 slept in their thin tents, and the bullets that they 
 had intended for the enemy, often went to provide 
 game for their daily sustenance. The Tories of 
 the districts through which they passed sometimes 
 rallied to oppose them, so that they had to fight 
 
ONWAKD TO VALLEY FORGE. 23 
 
 their way through ambuscades, or, when the enemy 
 greatly outnumbered them, slip away under cover 
 of night or by circuitous paths through the forest 
 and swamps. 
 
 And so, at last, toward the end of March, they 
 reached their goal — the encampment at Valley 
 Forge, and shuddered at the desolation they wit- 
 nessed. As the little band marched down the 
 streets of the military village, gaunt men who had 
 survived the horrors of the winter came out to 
 meet them with huzzas, and the drums beat a long 
 welcome. Their coming was as a thrill that runs 
 through a half-numb body, a sign of revivification 
 and awakened hope. But under it all was a sense 
 of unspeakable sadness that filled the hearts of the 
 newcomers with a strange wistfulness of pity and 
 admiration. 
 
 The succeeding weeks were given up literally 
 to camp work, to ceaseless mustering and drilling 
 under the vigilant eye of Baron Steuben, until the 
 newcomers lost the air of recruits and bore them- 
 selves with the semblance of veterans. 
 
 "We had hoped to fight under Morgan," 
 Eichard wrote his mother, "but, doubtless for 
 excellent reasons, we are to be assigned to Gen- 
 eral Wayne's command, which just now sorely 
 needs strengthening. Save that Morgan is from 
 our part of the country, the change matters not 
 to me, since both men are fearless leaders. What 
 I want is a fray, and with either of these men I 
 am like to get my fill." 
 
24 JOSCELTN CHESHIRE. 
 
 Here there was a long blot on the page, as 
 though the back of his quill had been drawn along 
 a line. In truth it had, for he had started to send 
 a message to Joscelyn, and then with a sudden 
 accession of determination had erased it, lest she 
 come to think he had never anythino: in mind save 
 herself. But he fondled the letter as he folded 
 it, knowing that her fingers would doubtless hold 
 each page and her eyes travel along each line, for 
 his mother would share her news of him with her 
 neighbours over the way. 
 
CHAPTEK ly. 
 
 THE COMPANY ON THE VERANDA. 
 
 " Heaven first taught letters for some wretch's aid, 
 
 Some banished lover or some captive maid." 
 
 — Pope. 
 
 FOE. several weeks after the departure of the 
 soldiers an expectant hush settled over Hills- 
 boro'-town — 'the reaction of the mustering and 
 drilling that had gone before. So few men were 
 left in the town that Janet Cameron one day 
 dressed herself in the garb of a nun, and, with the 
 feigned humility of folded hands and downcast 
 eyes, went calling upon her companions "of the 
 convent town." A ripple of merriment followed 
 in her wake, for she made a most quaint figure. 
 But the Keverend Hugh McAden, meeting her 
 upon the corner, so reprimanded her for her levity 
 that she ran home in tears and hid her gray frock 
 and hood in the garret. Joscelyn sobered her 
 own face and made the girl's peace with the 
 reverend gentleman with such explanations as at 
 last seemed to him reasonable. But Janet went 
 on no more masquerading tours. 
 
 With both the work and the gayety of the 
 town interrupted, there was nothing of moment 
 to ens:ao-e attention but the news that came once 
 
 25 
 
26 JOSCELTN CHESHIRE. 
 
 in a while from the camps and battle-fields. The 
 interest in this was shared by every one, so that 
 all the tidings, whether by message or letter, wxre 
 looked upon as public property. News that came 
 by word of mouth w^as cried out from the church 
 steps or the court-house door, for no good citizen 
 wished to keep his knowledge to himself. Thus 
 it fell out when it became known that a missive 
 had come from Richard to Joscelyn, that a score 
 or more of women gathered about her door to 
 learn the contents. She came out to them upon 
 the veranda, her saucy beauty enhanced by the 
 scarlet bodice, her eyes full of laughter. 
 
 " Read you Master Clevering's letter ? — As you 
 will. Mistress Strudwick ; you may perchance find 
 more of interest in it than I," she answered with 
 that sweet courtesy she showed ever to her elders. 
 And so having enthroned Mistress Strudwick upon 
 the wicker bench of the porch, while the others 
 disposed themselves upon the steps and the grass 
 of the terrace which sloped directly to the street, 
 she unfolded her letter and cleared her throat 
 pompously as is the manner of public speakers. 
 
 "I pray you have patience with me, good 
 ladies," she said, " if so I read but slowly. Mas- 
 ter Clevering ever had trouble with his spelling ; 
 and as for the writing, 'tis as though a fly had 
 half drowned itself in the inkhorn and then 
 crawled upon the page." 
 
 Then did she proceed to read them the letter 
 from its greeting to its close, pausing now and 
 
THE COMPANY ON THE VERANDA. 27 
 
 then to laboriously spell out a word. There were 
 accounts of the life at "Valley Forge, of the drill- 
 ing and the picket duty and the ceaseless watching 
 of the enemy. Then there was an exultant de- 
 scription of the victory at far-off Stillwater, as it 
 was given to him by a fellow-soldier who had 
 been a participant, 
 
 " Said I not the Continentals would win? Would 
 I had been there to see ! Five times was one cannon 
 captured and recaptured. How glorious the fighting 
 was ; and think of the surrender ! Well, well, it con- 
 soles me somewhat to thiuk of that coming last sur- 
 render of that archest of all the Royalists. I shall 
 bear a part in that, for it is to me the capitulation 
 will be made — " 
 
 " Why, dear me, is Master Clevering to be made 
 commander-in-chief of the American forces, that 
 his Majesty's troops should yield arms to him ? " 
 Joscelyn broke off to ask with assumed innocence. 
 " I heard naught of his rapid promotion." 
 
 "Come, come, Joscelyn, leave off sneering at 
 Richard and read us the rest." 
 
 She laughed as she turned the page. 
 
 " Say to Mistress Strudwick that the fame of her 
 gallant brother, Major William Shepperd, hath reached 
 even this remote quarter, and his old friends glory in 
 his prowess. Little Jimmy Nash has lost his wits 
 and wants another pair — 
 
 (" A pair of wits ! What can that mean ? Oh, 
 I ask your pardon, Mistress Nash ; it is ' mits,' 
 
28 JOSCELYN CHESHIRE. 
 
 not ' wits.' Master Clevering hath so queer a 
 handwriting.") 
 
 " — and wants another pair ; let his mother know, 
 that she may knit them and send them by the first 
 chance." 
 
 There were other messages and news items 
 which the girl read, and then came the signature. 
 
 " There follows here a postscript which per- 
 chance some of you may help me to unravel," 
 she added ; and then, with the air of a town-crier 
 announcing his errand, she proceeded : — 
 
 " To the girl of my heart say this, that I forget not 
 I am fighting for her, and that I look upon every Red- 
 coat my gun can bring down as one more obstacle re- 
 moved from betwixt us. I think of her always." 
 
 She paused and puckered her brow in a per- 
 plexed frown. "Now who, I pray you, is the girl 
 of his heart? Cannot some of you help me to 
 guess ? " 
 
 "Methinks 'twould be an easy task for you," 
 laughed Mistress Strudwick. 
 
 " Me f " repeated Joscelyn, still with that air 
 of perplexed innocence. "Nay, he was ever so 
 full of jokes and quarrels that it never came to 
 me he had a heart." 
 
 " Mayhap it is Dorothy Graham he means," said 
 a voice in the crowd. 
 
 " More like 'tis Patience Euffin." 
 
 " Or little Janet Cameron — he set much store 
 by her." 
 
THE COMPANY ON THE VEEANDA. 29 
 
 " ISTay," said a teasing voice, " Janet is going to 
 be a nun ; such messages to her would not be 
 proper." Whereat there was a general laugh. 
 
 " "Whoever she is, 'tis a pity she should miss her 
 love message tlirough her lover's obscurity and 
 our ignorance," said Joscelyn. " What think you. 
 Mistress Strudwick, were it not a good plan to 
 post this page upon the banister here that all who 
 pass may read? In this wise we may find the 
 maid." 
 
 With a pin from her bodice, and using her high- 
 heeled slipper — which she drew off for the pur- 
 pose — as a hammer, she tacked the paper to the 
 banister. But it had not fluttered twice in the 
 wind ere Betty had snatched it down. 
 
 " Shame on you, Joscelyn, for so exposing my 
 brother's letter ! " 
 
 " Oh, I meant not to anger you, Betty," returned 
 the girl, sweetly, as she took the letter again and 
 thrust it into her bodice. " Since you like not 
 this plan, we will have the town-crier search out 
 the mysterious damsel and bring her here to read 
 for herself. Let us see how the cry would run : 
 ' Wanted, wanted, the girl of Richard Clevering's 
 heart to read his greeting on Mistress Cheshire's 
 porch ! ' " 
 
 She stooped to buckle her shoe, her foot on the 
 round of Mistress Strud wick's chair, and so they 
 saw not the laughter in her eyes. She knew well 
 that Betty would not fail to write Richard of the 
 scene, and she already fancied his anger ; she 
 
30 JOSCELTN CHESHIRE. 
 
 could have laughed aloud. ''Methinks I have 
 paid you back a score, Master Impertinence," she 
 said to herself, and then fell to talking to Dorothy- 
 Graham until the company dispersed. That night 
 Betty, running in on a message from her mother, 
 found Joscelyn using the fragments of the ill-fated 
 letter to curl the long hair of Gyp, the house-dog, 
 and she went home to add an indignant postscript 
 to the missive to her brother, over which she had 
 spent the afternoon. But even as she wrote she 
 knew he would not heed her advice ; and sure 
 enough, in course of time another letter came to 
 the house on the terrace : — 
 
 " The girl of my heart is that teasing Tory, Josce- 
 lyn Cheshire, who conceals her tender nature under 
 such show of scorning. One day her love shall strike 
 its scarlet colours to the blue and buff of mine ; and 
 her lips, instead of mocking, will be given over to 
 smiles and kisses, for which purpose nature made 
 them so beautiful. 
 
 " Post this on your veranda for the town to read, 
 an you will, sweetheart. For my part, I care not if 
 the whole world knows that I love you." 
 
 But Joscelyn did no such thing. Instead, she 
 thrust the letter out of sight, and refused to read 
 it even to Betty, who had only half forgiven her 
 for her former offence against her brother. 
 
 As the days passed, however, Betty was full of 
 concern for the privations Richard endured, and 
 out of sheer force of habit she carried her plaint 
 to Joscelyn. 
 
THE COMPANY ON THE VERANDA. 31 
 
 " Richard drills six hours a day, rain or shine," 
 she said, with an expostulatory accent on the 
 numeral. 
 
 "Dear me, is he that hard of learning? Me- 
 thinks even / could master the art of shouldering 
 a gun and turning out my toes in less time than 
 that. It seems not so difficult a matter." 
 
 " And even after all this," Betty went on, tak- 
 ing no heed of the other's laugh, " he may not 
 rest at night, but must needs do picket duty or go 
 on reconnoitring expeditions. And he hath not 
 tasted meat in two weeks, not since he hath been 
 in camp." 
 
 " What a shame ! A soldier such as Master 
 Clevering should sit among the fleshpots and 
 sleep all night in a feather bed." 
 
 " I knew you would laugh," Betty said with 
 sudden heat. " You treat Richard as though he 
 counted for naught ; but the truth is, Joscelyn, 
 you are not half good enough for him." 
 
 And Betty flung out of the house with her chin 
 in the air, while Joscelyn kissed her hand to her 
 with playful courtesy, but with a genuine admira- 
 tion for her spirit. 
 
 But she softened not her heart toward Richard. 
 Because of his impatience with her opinions, and 
 the personal nature of their disputes and opposi- 
 tions, he had come to typify to her the very core 
 and heart of the insurrection. She knew this was 
 foolish, that he was in truth but an insignificant 
 part of the general turmoil ; and yet he was the 
 
32 JOSCELTN CHESHIKE. 
 
 prominent figure that always came before her 
 when the talli turned on the Revolution, no mat- 
 ter in what company she was. His masterful 
 ways of wooing and cool assumption of her pref- 
 erence also grated harshly upon her, and even in 
 his absence her heart was often hot against him. 
 She listened indifferently to his mother's and 
 Betty's praise of him. 
 
 Her position in the community was rather a 
 peculiar one ; for while many of her companions 
 disliked her tenets, they loved her for her merry 
 ways and grace of manner, and so they refused to 
 listen to some of the more rabid members who 
 counselled ostracism. Her mother, too, was a 
 strong bond between her and the public ; for 
 when the patriotic women of the town met 
 together to sew and knit for the absent soldiers. 
 Mistress Cheshire often went with them, and no 
 needle was swifter than hers. It was her neigh- 
 bours she w^as helping ; the soldiers were a second- 
 ary consideration. She was not going to quarrel 
 with Ann Clevering and Martha Strudwick be- 
 cause their husbands had fallen out with the 
 king ; that was his Majesty's affairs, not hers, 
 and she did not believe in meddling in other peo- 
 ple's quarrels. But Joscelyn shut herself in her 
 room on these days and read her English history ; 
 or else, being deft with her pencil, made numer- 
 ous copies of the historical pictures of King George 
 and his ministers, which were pinned up on the 
 railing of her balcony as a new testimonial of her 
 
THE COMPAJSTY ON THE VEKANDA. 33 
 
 loyalty. But no sooner was her back turned than 
 some passer-by tore them away, sometimes leaving 
 instead a written threat of retaliation that made 
 her mother's heart cold with a nameless dread. 
 
 It was in the end of March, some six weeks 
 after the departure of the troops, that sad news 
 came from the south. Where the Pedee widened 
 toward its mouth a blow had been struck for lib- 
 erty, and Uncle Clevering had fallen in a charge 
 with Sumter. 
 
 There had been a body of Tories to disperse, a 
 wagon-train to capture, and despatches to inter- 
 cept ; and Sumter's troops, knowing this, rode all 
 the windy night through moonshine and shadow 
 to surprise the enemy in the daffodil dawn of that 
 March morning. Swift, silent, resistless, like 
 spectres of the gray forest, they came upon the 
 astonished Eedcoats — and kept their tryst with 
 Victory ! The prisoners, the wagon-train, the 
 despatches were theirs ; but one of them had rid- 
 den to his rendezvous with death. The elder 
 Clevering's horse was led back through all the 
 long miles to Hillsboro' with the stirrups crossed 
 over the saddle ; and Ann Clevering sat in her 
 house, bereft. Each day Martha Strudwick and 
 other friends went to her with words of kindly 
 commiseration ; but it was Mistress Cheshire who 
 did most to comfort the afflicted widow, so that 
 these two were drawn yet closer together with 
 that bond of sympathy that comes of a mutual 
 loss. And in Betty's or Mistress Clevering's pres' 
 
3-i JOSCELYN CHESHIRE. 
 
 ence Joscelyn never again talked vauntingly of 
 English prowess, since it was an English bullet 
 that had wrought such sorrow to her friends. But 
 even this death, shocking as it was to her, in no 
 way shook her allegiance to the cause she held to 
 be right. 
 
CHAPTER Y. 
 
 WINDING THE SKEIN. 
 
 " HoTT do I love thee ? Let me count the ways." 
 
 — Browning. 
 
 IT was April, and the days came with a sheen 
 of blue sky between rifts of rain. 
 
 Quick steps sounded at the Cheshire door, and 
 the brass knocker beat like an anvil through the 
 house, setting the maid's feet in a run to answer 
 it. Joscelyn came down from her room with 
 wide eyes of curiosity to find Eustace Singleton 
 in the parlour, a great nosegay of roses in his hand. 
 
 " From the knocking you kept up, I thought 
 the whole Continental army must be at my door ! 
 You have brought me the first roses of the year," 
 she exclaimed ; " how kind ! " and she stretched 
 out her hand for the flowers. 
 
 " No — they are not for you — not exactly," he 
 stammered, holding them out of her reach, 
 
 " Mother will appreciate them, and I shall enjoy 
 them quite the same." 
 
 "No, she will not, for I had her not in mind 
 when I plucked them." 
 
 " Oh ! " 
 
 "I was thinking of — of — 'n faith, Joscelyn, I 
 was thinking of Mistress Betty Clevering." 
 
 35 
 
36 JOSCELTN CHESHIKE. 
 
 "Of Betty Clevering! Eed roses for Betty 
 Clevering ! " 
 
 " They are not all red. See this one ; it is near 
 as buff as her own party colour." 
 
 The girl nodded, smiling at his eagerness. He 
 walked the length of the room, then stopped 
 before her abruptly. 
 
 " Joscelyn, I leave for the front to-night." 
 
 "I did not know — " 
 
 " Yes ; I have but waited orders from Lord 
 Cornwallis. This morning a messenger brought 
 them, and I am to report at once. His lordship 
 has been most kind because of my father's friend- 
 ship when they were boys, and I am appointed 
 aide upon his staff." 
 
 She held out her hand impulsively. "'Tis 
 what we hoped for you." 
 
 "But," he went on hurriedly, "I cannot go 
 without first speaking with Mistress Betty. Me ■ 
 thinks I cannot fight against her people without 
 first asking her pardon. Oh, of course, that 
 sounds foohsh; but will you help me, Joscelyn? 
 It would be useless for me to go to her house; 
 the door would be shut in my face." 
 
 "And you want me — " 
 
 " I want you to ask her here now, and then go 
 away upstairs like the dear girl you are, and give 
 me a chance." 
 
 " Aunt Clevering would never forgive me." 
 
 " She need not know ; think up some excuse for 
 sending for Betty." 
 
■WINDING THE SKEIN. 37 
 
 " And Betty herself might be angry." 
 
 "Not with you. She may turn me away. I 
 have small hope, for she has always been so shy, 
 and public questions and private quarrels have 
 kept our families so far apart. You know how 
 seldom we meet ; but speak with her I must, for 
 who knows whether I shall ever come back? 
 My departure to-night must, of course, be in 
 secret, for were my intentions known, I should 
 be apprehended and held, mayhap hanged for 
 treason. This is my one chance to see Betty ; 
 you are going to send for her, Joscelyn?" 
 
 She hesitated: she hated deception, and she 
 loved her Aunt Clevering. Then there came to 
 her the memory of Betty's face when she had 
 teased her about Eustace, and her own resolution 
 to be the girl's friend where so much heartache 
 and opposition awaited her. This was her oppor- 
 tunity ; if she refused it, she would be abetting 
 the general harshness the girl was likely to 
 encounter. She left the room without a word, 
 and presently Eustace saw through the window 
 her little maid dart across the street and into the 
 opposite gate. 
 
 "Thank you," he said jubilantly, taking her 
 hand when she reentered the room. 
 
 " Wait and see if she comes. She is here but 
 seldom these days ; partly because she is still 
 angry with me about Richard, and partly because 
 of the sorrow that came to her a month ago. 
 She may not accept my invitation." 
 
38 JOSCELYN CHESHIRE. 
 
 But even as she spoke, a clear voice cried in the 
 hall : " Joscelyn, Joscelyn, are you upstairs ? " 
 
 " Nay, I am here," and she met the girl at the 
 door and drew her into the parlour. 
 
 Eustace came forward smiling. " JN'ow, Mis- 
 tress Betty, I call this a lucky chance to have 
 dropped in here when you were coming to sit 
 with Joscelyn. Fortune does sometimes favour 
 even so humble a subject as I. Let me move this 
 chair for you." 
 
 Betty's cheeks had reddened faintly, and she 
 glanced quickly from him to Joscelyn, but found 
 in neither face any confirmation of a suspicion 
 that stirred in her mind. Joscelyn was turning 
 over a great pile of coloured worsteds. 
 
 " You promised to help me sort the colours for 
 my new cross-stitch — you have such a fine eye 
 for contrasts. But since Eustace is here, methinks 
 we had best put it off ; men are so impatient over 
 such matters," she said. 
 
 " Nay, nay," he protested ; " you slander me 
 along with the rest of my fellow-men. Mistress 
 Betty here shall prove it, for I will hold those 
 tangled skeins for her, and she will find that I am 
 patience itself." 
 
 " Very well, we will put you to the test. What 
 think you, Betty, will this green do for the flower 
 stems ? — You like that shade better ? — Hold out 
 your hands, Eustace. Now, Betty, wind that while 
 1 find a blue for the flowers." 
 
 Never was anything brought about more natu- 
 
WINDING THE SKEIN. 39 
 
 rally and deftly. Almost before she was aware, 
 Betty found herself seated in front of Eustace, 
 who was making great show of resignation. 
 
 " How does a man sometimes fall from the high 
 estate of his manhood and dignity and become no 
 better than a wooden frame whereon to hang a 
 length of yarn," he said, laughing ; then coloured 
 with pleasure as Betty bent toward the table and 
 put her face close to the roses lying there. 
 
 " Ah, how sweet ! I have only a few buds, as 
 yet. Master Singleton brought them to you, 
 Joscelyn ? " 
 
 " On the contrary, he said expressly they were 
 not for me. There is no blue in this lot of wools, 
 I must have left it upstairs. 'Tis a shame I have 
 to mount those steps again. I hope you will have 
 that skein wound by the time I find the blue one." 
 At the door she paused and looked back archly at 
 Eustace ; then, blowing a kiss to Betty's unconscious 
 back, she went away, shutting the door softly be- 
 hind her, 
 
 " God bless you, Betty dear ; I hope I am acting 
 for your happiness," she said to herself on the stairs. 
 
 Betty added to her soft ball in unruffled silence 
 for a minute. Then, glancing up, she met Eus- 
 tace's gaze, and her hand faltered in its winding. 
 
 " Do you know for whom I brought the roses ? " 
 he asked, bending toward her. 
 
 " Stay, Master Singleton, you are dropping the 
 skein — and you promised to be so patient." 
 
 "True, true; I have it all in a mess. "Wind 
 
40 JOSCELYN CHESHIRE. 
 
 your ball up closer that we may pass it through 
 this loop." 
 
 And so they set themselves, with here a turn 
 and there a backward twist, to that old task of 
 unravelling the snarled skein. Now and then 
 their fingers touched, and both hands trembled 
 and both faces reddened ; Eustace's from the ex- 
 quisite pleasure of the contact, for never before 
 had they been so alone, so near together, and out 
 of pure joy he would have prolonged the happi- 
 ness. But the shadows were already lengthening 
 backward to the east, and with nightfall he must 
 be away. And so when Betty's little hand was 
 again near to his he seized it in both of his. 
 
 " Betty — sweetheart — I love you ! " 
 
 The thread was snapped apart, and the ball fell 
 to the floor, but he held her hands fast. 
 
 " Nay, you must listen to me, for this night I 
 go away to bear my share in the war, perchance 
 to give my life for the cause I hold to be right. 
 But before I go I must tell you what is in my 
 heart — tell you that I love you as a man loves 
 the woman to whom he gives his name, with 
 whom he leaves his honour. And not only must 
 I tell you that, but I must hear you say that, be- 
 lieving as I do, you do not blame me for going to 
 the war. You do not blame me, do you ? " 
 
 Her hands lay still in his, but her head was 
 bent so low he could not see into her eyes. 
 
 " This war means everything to me, for the 
 enemies of the kino; as^ainst whom I shall have 
 
WINDING THE SKEIN. 41 
 
 to fight are my neighbours and acquaintances, and, 
 worse still, the near and dear relatives of my love. 
 Under such circumstances you do not think I 
 would fight save from principle ? " 
 
 "No." 
 
 " And you do not condemn the step I am tak- 
 ing, even though it sets me against your dear 
 ones ? I cannot see things as they do." 
 
 She lifted her head and looked at him squarely 
 for a moment. "Every man should follow the 
 dictates of his conscience." 
 
 "I knew your heart would recognize the jus- 
 tice of my case. And when it is all over, and I 
 come back, you will not let this stand between us 
 — you will be my wife ? " 
 
 But she drew her hand away, shaking her head 
 with downcast eyes, and his pleading was futile. 
 "To promise you would be to go against my 
 mother, and it were undutiful in me to add to 
 her present distress ; now that my father is dead 
 and my brother gone to the war, my mother has 
 only me to comfort her." 
 
 "Then at least let me carry away the glad 
 assurance that you care for me ; that will suffice, 
 for, if you love me, you will wait for me." 
 
 "You — you will find me waiting," she whis- 
 pered ; and then her lips trembled under the kiss 
 that he put upon them. 
 
 But there was a sound at the door, a warning 
 rattle of the knob, and out of consideration for 
 her he let her go. 
 
42 JOSCELYN CHESHIRE. 
 
 " Aunt Clevering is calling you, Betty," Josce- 
 lyn said, but she did not enter. " She'll be there 
 directly. Aunt Clevering," she called from the 
 front door. And presentl}^ when Betty passed 
 her with Eustace's colours flaming in her cheeks 
 and his roses on her breast, she knew that Red- 
 coat and not Continental had won this battle in 
 her parlour. 
 
 " She would not promise me," Eustace said, 
 Av ringing her hand ; " but I am so happy, for 
 there are some things that are better than a 
 spoken promise. " 
 
CHAPTER YL 
 
 THE FETE AT PHILADELPHIA. 
 
 " Drink to her that each loves best ; 
 And if you nurse a flame 
 That's told but to her mutual breast, 
 We will not ask her name. ' ' 
 
 — Campbell. 
 
 nnHE sixth day of May dawned clear at Valley 
 -*- Forge. In the crowded huts and tents was an 
 unusual stir, a brushing and repairing of ragged 
 uniforms, and a burnishing of bayonets and sword- 
 hilts. Then the bugles sounded their stirring call, 
 and the morning sun looked down upon the army 
 drawn up in two lines upon the drill plateau. 
 Richard, gazing down the line in front of him, 
 and knowing that the one in which he stood was 
 but its ragged prototype, felt his heart swell with 
 admiration and a sickening pity ; for everywhere 
 were the marks of privation and starvation. Only 
 the faces, transfigured by the radiance of a new 
 hope, told of the unconquered wills that lay dor- 
 mant under the scars of suffering. 
 
 Thus they heard the news for which they had 
 been mustered into line — France had acknowl- 
 edged the independence of the colonies, and would 
 send them substantial martial aid. Franklin had 
 
 43 
 
44 JOSCELYN CHESHIRE. 
 
 won, and the fleur-de-lys was to float beside the 
 star-studded banner of the young republic fighting 
 for her life. 
 
 When the proclamation was read, a salute of 
 thirteen guns boomed out, each the symbolic voice 
 of a State pledging allegiance to the new alliance. 
 Down the lines went the rattle of musketry, and 
 there rolled up a shout that filled the blue hollow 
 of the sky with its hoarse echo. 
 
 " Lono^ live the kino- of France ! " 
 
 " Long live the new Republic ! " 
 
 " Hip — hip — huzza ! " 
 
 It was as if the prisoned joy of months had 
 broken into song. Scars and tatters and hunger, 
 pains and aching wounds were forgotten, and 
 only the radiance of peace and freedom yet to 
 come shone in the dazzled upturned eyes. 
 
 " Long live the lilies of France ! " 
 
 When it was all done Richard sat down to write 
 by the light of a pine knot one of those letters 
 that Joscelyn hated. 
 
 " I am much grieved at the news of you in Betty's 
 last letter. She says you daily draw upon yourself 
 the disapproval of the townsfolk by your public re- 
 joicing over news of any British success. This is not 
 wise in you, for the people are in no temper to be 
 mocked ; and I feel my hands grow cold at the thought 
 that some danger may come near you, and I too far 
 away to stand bet\yeen you and it ! Go often to see 
 my mother, both because she loves you and because 
 the friendship of so good a patriot will be a safe- 
 guard in the community. Betty hath writ me so queer 
 
THE FETE AT PHILADELPHIA. 45 
 
 a page about trying to love my enemies, and her hope 
 that I will look carefully at every man toward whom 
 my gun is pointed so that I shoot not a neighbour, that 
 I am at a loss to understand her meaning — unless, in- 
 deed, she hath been tainted by your Toryism. What 
 think you hath come to the little minx ? " 
 
 She would not answer the epistle, of course — 
 ^he never did ; but it was such a relief to put his 
 feelings into words. That she would be angry at 
 some of his words he knew, but it made him laugh 
 to think of the disdainful lips and flashing eyes. 
 
 He must have laughed aloud, for a man stretched 
 apon the ground suddenly asked him what the joke 
 ivas. 
 
 " Oh, just a passing thought," Eichard answered. 
 ' A man has to think funny things to keep alive in 
 this state of inactivity into which we are called." 
 
 " You would like a little excitement ? " 
 
 " Indeed I should, 'Tis now six weeks since I 
 «3ame into camp, and only that one secret trip with 
 you down the river has broken the monotony of 
 drilling and mounting guard." 
 
 The man, a Virginian named Dunn, one of the 
 most daring and capable scouts of the array, 
 smoked a moment in silence. 
 
 " How would you like to witness the festivities 
 in honour of General Howe before he leaves Phila- 
 delphia?" 
 
 Richard's eyes lit up. " Take me with you, 
 Dunn ! " he cried, with great eagerness. 
 
 " H-u-s-h ! " said Dunn. " Nothing is arranged 
 
46 JOSCELTN CHESHIRE. 
 
 yet ; but there will be much to learn of the enemy's 
 intended movements, and when would there fall 
 so fine a chance as these days of festivit^^ when 
 wine and tongues will both run free? If I can so 
 fix it, you shall go with me ; you suit me better 
 than Price, for you are quicker to catch a cue. 
 You have got just one fault for this kind of busi- 
 ness — you are always so d — n sure of yourself 
 and your own powers; a little humility would 
 improve you." 
 
 Richard laughed and wrung his hand. "You 
 can knock me down for a conceited coxcomb, only 
 take me with you." 
 
 For a few days the French alliance was the 
 all-absorbing theme of talk ; and La Fayette's 
 laughing prophecy that France's recognition of a 
 republic would one day come home to her seemed, 
 to these aroused sons of Liberty, like an augury 
 that the countries of the Old World would one 
 day follow in the paths their swords were blazing 
 out — the paths that lead over thrones and crowns 
 to self-government. But Eichard soon had other 
 things whereof to think. Dunn was planning his 
 expedition into the lines of the enemy ; but two 
 weeks went by before he came to Richard's tent 
 and beckoned him aside. 
 
 " To-night at eight, by the pine tree down the 
 road. I have spoken to your captain, so there will 
 be no hubbub about your absence. Bring no arms 
 but your pistols." 
 
 Under the young May moon Richard kept his 
 
THE FETE AT PHILADELPHIA. 47 
 
 tryst with the veteran scout, as eager as a lover to 
 meet his mistress. 
 
 " Sit down," said Dunn. " I shall tell you my 
 mission, for I do not work by halves. Sometimes 
 an assistant has to act on his own responsibility, 
 and he spoils sport if he does not know the plan. 
 First, we are to find out when the British are to 
 move, what is their destination, and by what road 
 they will go. If an attack is to be made before- 
 hand on our camp, we must bring back the plans. 
 If there is a chance for our men to strike a blow, 
 we must know it." 
 
 " And how are we to learn these things ? " 
 
 " By keeping our ears and eyes open and our 
 wits sharpened. It will take cool heads and 
 steady nerves. "We are to gain entrance into the 
 city as ordinary labourers. In this bundle are the 
 necessary clothes. Circumstances must govern us 
 after we are there. Now to get ready." 
 
 It took but a few minutes to transform the sol- 
 diers into workmen, so far as dress makes a trans- 
 formation. Leaving their uniforms in the hollow 
 of a tree, where Dunn's man was to search for 
 them, they mounted their horses and set off by an 
 unused road toward the distant city. The direct 
 route would have given them about twenty miles 
 of travel, but the numerous diversions they were 
 obliged to make added a fourth of that distance 
 to their journey, so there was a gray streak of 
 dawn in the sky ahead o^ them when they drew 
 rein at a lonely cabin on the edge of a wood, be- 
 
48 JOSCELTN CHESHIRE. 
 
 yond which were the cleared fields of a farm that 
 skirted the city. On the door of this hut Dunn 
 struck three sharp taps, then one, then two. After 
 the signal was repeated the door was cautiously 
 opened by a man within, who, upon being assured 
 of the identity of the newcomers, bade them enter ; 
 and Kichard found himself in an humble room 
 whose rafters were hung with drying herbs that 
 gave out a pungent odour. 
 
 In a few words Dunn explained to the man, 
 whom he called George, something of their pur- 
 pose. 
 
 "Well, I was expecting you. My vegetable 
 cart starts in two hours ; one of you can go with 
 me, the other must straggle on behind, for two 
 would be more than is safe with one cart. My 
 daily pass allows me an assistant." 
 
 When their horses had been hidden in an out- 
 house, Richard and Dunn threw themselves down 
 and slept heavily until the carter aroused them. 
 The smell of breakfast, along with his eagerness 
 for the coming adventure, made Richard quick to 
 answer the summons, and in a short time the 
 three were on their way. It had been arranged 
 that Richard, who knew nothing of the city, 
 should go on with the carter, and that Dunn 
 should take his chances and follow. But in the 
 public road, where other carts were beginning to 
 appear, they overtook a black-eyed lass carrying a 
 huge basket of eggs. It took but a few glances, 
 flashed coquettishly across the road, to bring 
 
•' Thus they rASSED, with small parley, the picket posts. 
 
THE FETE AT PHILADELPHIA. 49 
 
 Richard to her side. There were some gallant 
 speeches, a protest that ended in a pouting laugh, 
 and then the two went down the road like old 
 friends, merry with the carelessness of youth, she 
 swinging her hands idly, he carrying her basket. 
 Thus they passed, with small parley, the picket 
 posts, for the guards knew the girl who came and 
 went daily with her market wares. 
 
 Once they were in the city, Richard bade adieu 
 to his companion, and, after some little search, 
 joined Dunn behind the market-house, the latter 
 having slipped in by an obscure alley. They soon 
 knew from the talk on the streets and the general 
 air of bustle that the fete they had come to wit- 
 ness was to begin on the water, so they repaired 
 to the pier above the city and waited for a chance 
 to slip into the crowd. The opportunity came 
 through a boatman, who wanted two men to help 
 row his barge down to the appointed landing. 
 They readily bargained to go, and took their 
 places in the boat, which was soon filled with a 
 gay crowd of ladies and their escorts, all in gala 
 humour and attire. Richard, sitting in front of 
 Dunn, forgot all about his oar as he watched the 
 flutter of the brilliant throng, the glowing faces, 
 the flashing smiles. Never before had he seen 
 so many magnificent costumes or such an array 
 of masculine and feminine beauty. But there 
 was one face that seemed strangely familiar — a 
 face with dark eyes and tropical colouring of olive 
 and carmine. Where had he seen it ? Nowhere, 
 
50 JOSCELYN CHESHIRE. 
 
 he felt sure, for a girl like that was not to be 
 forgotten. And yet his eyes went back to her 
 as to a friend. Who, then, was it she resembled? 
 He was searching his memory for a cue when 
 suddenly something struclc him sharply on the 
 arm, and Dunn said in a whisper: — 
 
 "Mind your oar and quit gaping that way; 
 the whole company will be noticing it directly, 
 and coming over to examine you, and that'll be 
 a pretty kettle of fish ! " 
 
 Richard picked up his oar quickly, ashamed of 
 his defection ; but for the life of him he could not 
 keep his eyes from the dark, vivacious face across 
 the boat, until her escort, a splendidly dressed offi- 
 cer* of Howe's staff, laughed and said to her : — 
 
 " I told you all hearts ^vould be at your feet 
 this day, and see, even the boatman over there is 
 worshipping from afar." 
 
 The half whisper reached Richard, and as the 
 girl turned toward him their eyes met. She 
 laughed, and then threw up her head with a dis- 
 dainful toss, turning back to her companion. But 
 the gesture had cleared the doubt in Richard's 
 mind. It was Mary Singleton over again, and 
 the vivid likeness was to her. This must be her 
 Philadelphia cousin, of whom he had often heard. 
 She would know much of the plans of the British, 
 for her father was an intimate of Howe, and she 
 herself said to be betrothed to his chief of staff. 
 This much Richard remembered from Joscelyn's 
 talk, and glad he was to recall the idle chatter 
 
THE FETE AT PHILADELPHIA. 51 
 
 which at the time had bored him, since it kept 
 him from more personal conversation. It was 
 of Joscelyn and himself that he had always 
 wanted to talk; but she had declared lightly 
 that neither subject suited her, for her own 
 charms were too patent to need comment, and 
 his were too few to bear exposure, and had gone 
 on to tell him of the Singletons, whom she knew 
 through Mary's letters. A plan that seemed like 
 the gauzy web of a fairy tale began to weave 
 itself in Richard's mind as he bent to his oar. 
 
 The river was full of boats of every description, 
 from barges like the one he was in, to giddy 
 cockleshells that seemed a dare to Providence 
 as they careened and dipped and darted in and 
 out among the larger craft, like monster dragon- 
 flies rather than conveyances for human beings. 
 And each one, great and small, was packed from 
 prow to stern with a laughing, singing crowd 
 in festal array. As the gay fleet approached the 
 appointed landing-place, it passed in line between 
 two men-of-war strung with flags and sun-kissed 
 garlands ; and then, amid the music of hautboys, 
 the braying of trumpets, and the booming of guns, 
 the company landed and proceeded to the grounds 
 laid out for the tourney which was to be the chief 
 event of the day. It Avas a dazzling picture upon 
 which the afternoon sun looked down. In the 
 centre stretched the tourney ring, around which 
 beautiful women, gorgeously gowned, sat on mimic 
 thrones to watch their gallants — tricked out like 
 
62 JOSCELYN CHESHIRE. 
 
 knights of old — contend for the honours. The 
 multi-hued throng of spectators filled out the 
 picture which had for its foreground the river 
 with its decorated craft, and for its background 
 the deep green of the forest, with the city's 
 clustrered roofs to one side. Thousands of flags 
 and garlands and streamers of ribbon tossed in 
 the wind, while the music, like the invisible in- 
 cense of pleasure, drifted like the sunshine every- 
 where. 
 
 And the man for whom this was all planned sat 
 on his dais, the embodiment of soldierly bearing, 
 of courtesy and gratification ; for this splendid 
 demonstration told unequivocally the appreciation 
 in which the army held him, notwithstanding the 
 implied disapprobation of the home government 
 in so promptly accepting his resignation, tendered, 
 no doubt, in an hour of chagrin and hurt pride 
 at the strictures passed upon him at home. 
 
 As soon as the barge was tied to its pier, Rich- 
 ard and Dunn mingled with the throng, bent on 
 seeing the sport. Kichard longed to become a 
 part of the merry-making, but knew he must be 
 content to be a spectator. lie looked about care- 
 fully for the black-eyed girl, and finally located 
 her through a remark overheard in the crowd : — 
 
 " Mistress Singleton occupies the place of honour 
 on the right of the master of ceremonies." 
 
 And when he had pushed his way farther on, he 
 saw her. So he had been right ; this was Ellen 
 Singleton, the fiancie of Grant, one of the most 
 
THE FETE AT PHILADELPHIA. 53 
 
 accomplished officers under Howe. All the after- 
 noon he lingered in her vicinity, but unable to ad- 
 vance in any way the mad scheme he had in mind. 
 "When darkness fell, the company repaired to the 
 hall where the tourney victor crowned his queen, 
 and the dancers took their places to spend the 
 time until supper w^as announced. More than 
 four hundred guests sat down to that table, over 
 which twelve hundred Avaxen candles shed their 
 radiance. As Richard leaned into one of the low 
 windows, absorbed in the scene, he noticed that 
 Grant was whispering earnestly to his fair com- 
 panion, and that she looked serious, even alarmed. 
 Before he had finished wondering at the cause, 
 some one touched him on the arm, and he turned 
 to find Dunn at his elbow. 
 
 " Hist ! " said the latter ; " something is afoot. 
 Couriers have come, and General Howe spoke with 
 them apart in the anteroom, and you should have 
 seen his face light up as he listened. It is, of 
 course, something about our troops. I heard La 
 Fayette's name, but can get no particulars. Grant 
 is leaving the table ; keep him in sight if possible 
 while I try the couriers." 
 
 Mistress Singleton also had risen, and was leav- 
 ing the room on Grant's arm. Quitting the win- 
 dow hastily, Richard was at the door when they 
 came out of the hall. 
 
 " I must speak with you," Grant said earnestly, 
 in a low tone, to the girl on his arm. The lawn 
 was practically deserted, and the mimic thrones 
 
54 JOSCELYN CHESHIKE. 
 
 erected for the tourney stood unoccupied in the 
 blended light of the moon and flambeaux, " The 
 general's pavilion yonder is our best place. There 
 are some ladies and gentlemen on the far side, but 
 at the corner, there where the shadow falls, no one 
 is sitting. Come." 
 
 He led her across the open space, and Richard 
 saw them take their places in the dim light, the 
 girl's white dress marking the spot even from 
 Avhere he stood. He followed slowly, not know- 
 ing what next to do, for he was too new in the 
 role of scout to willingly play at eavesdropping, 
 so he stood irresolutely near the pavilion Tvatch- 
 ing the quiet couple at one side and the bevy of 
 laughing revellers at the other. Evidently Mis- 
 tress Singleton was much agitated, for her hand 
 rose in frequent gesture, and her voice was a trifle 
 shrill. Presently two young men from the other 
 party came down the pavilion steps, and one of 
 them dropped his long military cloak in the shadow 
 at the end of the step, saying he would find it 
 again after the dance. Then they passed on. 
 Behind them two soldiers came at quickstep, and 
 Richard heard these words : — 
 
 " Grant's division has the orders. Quick work 
 of the whole crew of rebels." 
 
 In the light of the flambeau at the banquet-hall 
 door Richard saw Dunn, and hastened to join him. 
 Putting together what they had gathered, they 
 made out that La Fayette had left Valley Forge 
 with a body of troops, intending to do whatever 
 
THE FETE AT PHILADELPHIA. 55 
 
 mischief he might, but that his movement had 
 been discovered, and Howe was planning to cap- 
 ture his whole force, and Grant was to be detailed 
 for the work. But what his course would be, when 
 he would set out, and what force would be with 
 him were things yet to learn. However, these 
 were the very things La Fayette would want to 
 know. Dunn was waiting for Howe to leave the 
 banquet-hall, so Eichard went back to his vigil 
 near the pavilion. As he approached, Grant was 
 coming down the steps. 
 
 " I shall not be gone twenty minutes. Tou are 
 quite safe, for Mistress Hamlin is just behind jon, 
 and I'll send one of the officers to sit with vou. 
 "Wait for me, for it may be our last meeting." 
 
 Evidently the girl consented, for she kept her 
 place while he sprang down the steps and strode 
 toward the lighted hall. 
 
 The wild plan Eichard had cherished all day 
 was to speak with this girl on equal terms. It 
 might cost him his life, but a very dare-devil 
 spirit of adventure took possession of him. "Now 
 was the hour of which he had dimly dreamed. 
 He did not stop to think, but stooping into the 
 shadow, he snatched up the long cloak lying 
 there and wrapped it about him, turning up the 
 collar jauntily. Then with his heart thumping 
 against his ribs, but with a smile on his face, he 
 came to the side of the steps nearest the girl and 
 went boldly up into the pavilion. 
 
CHAPTEE YII. 
 
 A DARE-DEVIL DEED. 
 " Thou fool, to thrust thy head into a noose." — Anon. 
 
 r I "lIIE girl was leaning back with her hand over 
 -*- her eyes, evidently in deep thought. 
 
 " Ah, Captain," she said, as Richard paused, 
 mistaking him for one of Mistress Hamlin's party 
 from across the pavilion, " you have come to bear 
 me company in Major Grant's absence ? " 
 
 " With your permission," answered Richard, gal- 
 lantly, " and if Providence is kind to me, General 
 Howe will find much to say to him." 
 
 " That is not likely, since the plans are all laid." 
 
 " Yes ; they were not long in the forming," he 
 ventured cautiously. " The division marches to- 
 night." 
 
 " So soon ? I thought it was at ten in the 
 morning? " 
 
 " No doubt, then, I was misinformed ; I was 
 not at the meeting with the couriers. If Major 
 Grant said ten in the morning, then it must be 
 so," he hastily corrected himself; but he had 
 learned one needed item. 
 
 " I hoped it had been hurried up that it might 
 the sooner be over." 
 
 56 
 
A DARE-DEVIL DEED. 57 
 
 " This French marquis is inclined to give us 
 trouble and himself airs." 
 
 " Indeed, yes ; but General Howe will have 
 his revenge when, after this fight to-morrow, he 
 sends the young upstart back to England in 
 chains." 
 
 " That will he. It would be a glorious sight to 
 see our gallant general capture him with his own 
 hands." 
 
 " Oh, Major Grant will attend to that," she 
 replied loftily. " General Howe will do his 
 share when he receives the prisoners at Chestnut 
 Hill." 
 
 So Chestnut Hill road was to be their route. 
 Richard mentally recorded it, while he said with 
 incisive compliment, " Major Grant has the place 
 of honour." 
 
 The pleasure in her voice when she answered 
 told that the arrow had hit its mark. "Major 
 Grant could have circumvented the rebels with 
 half the five thousand men assigned to him." 
 
 " He takes so many ? 'Tis a large force for so 
 skilful an officer, unless, indeed, the enemy should 
 be very strong." 
 
 " Oh, I think they reach not half that number." 
 
 "With the hour of starting, the route and the 
 force to be sent, Richard now knew all he had 
 hoped to learn. Grant might return any moment, 
 so that his peril was imminent ; and yet the au- 
 dacity of the adventure gave it such spice that he 
 lingered unwilling, as he was unable to frame an 
 
58 JOSCELYN CHESHIRE. 
 
 excuse for withdrawing, filling in the pause with 
 comments on the day's festivities. 
 
 " Your company does not go with the attacking 
 party ? " she said presently, as though it wern 
 something they both knew positively. 
 
 " No," he replied, catching the cue, but wonder • 
 ing which company was supposedly his, and foit 
 whom had she taken him, 
 
 "Major Grant told me you would go as tho 
 general's escort to receive and guard the pris' 
 oners." 
 
 " That sounds very tame after his own share in 
 the work. Major Grant was surely born under s. 
 lucky star, to be so favoured as he is by Mars and 
 the little blind god of love." There was a tone in 
 his voice that she could not fail to understand, and 
 she laughed coyly in answer. He ought to go, ho 
 knew ; but still he lingered, and presently, urgea 
 on by the spirit of recklessness that possessed him, 
 he said: "You have relatives in the south, Mis^ 
 tress Singleton ? " 
 
 " Yes. How did you happen to know ? " She 
 turned toward him so abruptly that he was for 
 a moment disconcerted. 
 
 " Why, it is not a government secret," he said^ 
 laughinof. 
 
 " But you are not from the south ; you are Eng- 
 lish. How should you know, and why should you 
 think of it just at this time ? " 
 
 She had scarcely looked at him before, being 
 too busy watching the door of the banquet-hall 
 
 i 
 
A DAKE-DEVIL DEED. 59 
 
 for Grant's return; but she had now lifted her 
 eyes directly to his face. Discovery seemed immi- 
 nent. Cursing himself inwardly, he hastily put 
 up his hand to smother a pretended cough, thank- 
 ful that the light was behind him. But her scru- 
 tiny continued. 
 
 " Captain Barry — " she said, with that in her 
 voice that told him she was not quite satisfied. 
 
 " At your service — would that I could say for- 
 ever," he said, putting all the tenderness possible 
 in his voice, and clicking his heels in a low salute. 
 Was everything over with him? Fool that he 
 was to have tempted fate by such an allusion. 
 
 She pushed her chair back as though to rise, 
 but at this moment there was a stir about the 
 lighted doorway across the sward, and Grant came 
 out. If he reached the pavilion before Kichard 
 found an excuse to retire his neck would pay the 
 forfeit of his daring. He was thinking hard and 
 fast. The girl sank back with a sigh of pleasure, 
 her doubt of her companion momentarily forgotten 
 in the joy of her lover's return. 
 
 " Your superior oificer," she laughed softly and 
 proudly, 
 
 "Yes," he replied, with that audacity which, 
 even in danger, could not be quelled ; " my supe- 
 rior in the ways of wooing as well as in the ways 
 of war, since against him I have no chance to win 
 a smile from your lips. You will have much to 
 say to him in these last moments — and Mistress 
 Hamlin is going," he added with a quick throb of 
 
60 JOSCELYN CHESHIKE. 
 
 gratitude as the party across the pavilion left 
 their seats. 
 
 " You need not leave us," she said with half- 
 hearted politeness ; but already Grant was at the 
 foot of the steps, and, with an audacious kiss upon 
 the hand she held out to him, Richard turned, 
 and, with a beating heart but no seeming haste, 
 fell into the rear of the company across the pavil- 
 ion, descending the steps so close behind them as 
 to seem to an onlooker to be a member of the 
 party. Every moment was precious to him, and 
 yet he loitered along the lighted sward as if 
 eternity were his. As he reached the corner of 
 the building he heard Grant call : — 
 
 " Barry, Barry ! " 
 
 But he pretended not to hear, and sauntered on 
 into the shadow. There his pace quickened. No 
 one stopped him, for his military cloak completely 
 disguised him, and presently he found himself 
 near the landing. In an empty boat-house he cast 
 aside his borrowed garment, and soon found Dunn 
 near the barge at the appointed place of meeting. 
 The old scout listened to his adventure with 
 amazement not unmixed with anger. 
 
 "You confounded dare-devil, you might have 
 spoiled the whole plan," he cried ; yet acknowl- 
 edging inwardly that he knew no one else who 
 would have dared to thrust his neck so far into a 
 noose. He himself had not been idle, and piecing 
 together their bits of information, they made out 
 that La Fayette had crossed the Schuylkill and 
 
A DARE-DEVIL DEED. 61 
 
 taken a post of observation on a range of knobs 
 known as Barren Hill, and that Howe's plan was 
 to capture him as a brilliant close to a campaign 
 that had been so much criticised. It became 
 therefore instantly necessary to warn the marquis 
 of the plot. The details Eichard had gotten from 
 the unsuspecting girl gave them all they needed 
 to round out their plan ; the one thing now was 
 to escape and carry the information to La Fay- 
 ette. This Richard found more difficult than he 
 had imagined from their easy entrance ; for they 
 had no friendly carter and market-maid beside 
 them, and despite the festivity, the pickets were 
 keeping strict watch at the outposts. Finally, by 
 creeping on their hands for half a mile behind a 
 hedge, they managed to evade detection ; but the 
 sun was already high over the eastern horizon 
 before they gained the banks of the Schuylkill. 
 Keeping close to the stream and avoiding the open 
 road, they finall}^ came upon a row-boat hidden 
 among the reeds in a cove. This, without cere- 
 mony, they appropriated, and were soon making 
 more rapid progress on their journey. For a long 
 while nothing but the oars was heard ; then sud- 
 denly Richard laughed aloud. 
 
 " Suppose that young gallant had come back for 
 his cloak while I was talking with the girl ? " 
 
 " You'd have had to content yourself with 
 the angels — or the imps — hereafter," growled 
 Dunn. 
 
 But Richard laughed again. " "Well, I'm glad 
 
62 JOSCELTN CHESHIRE. 
 
 he stayed away, for 'tis pleasanter entertaining 
 beautiful girls. It will be great sport to say in 
 my home letters that I, a private in the Conti- 
 nental army, was one of Mistress Singleton's at- 
 tendants at General Howe's fete ! Mary will get 
 it all from Joscelyn and write it back to the lady, 
 and she will then know who the supposed Barry 
 was. "Who is Barr}^, anyhow ? " 
 
 "One of the finest of the young officers that 
 wears the red — a soldier and a lady-killer, so 
 they tell me." Long afterward Eichard recalled 
 the words. 
 
 Presently Dunn, who had been looking intently 
 ahead, said: "This is the place; yonder are the 
 two dead oaks by which I always locate Matson's 
 ford. We will tie up here and cut across country 
 to the hills, trusting to luck to find the way to 
 La Fayette. Grant's guides, knowing their road, 
 give him the advantage, for I have never been 
 sent to this part of the country, so am ignorant 
 of my bearings. It must be near to noon, and 
 the British column has long ago started." 
 
 " Will they guard this ford, do you think ? " 
 
 " Hardly, for it is nearer to the English than 
 to us. La Fayette will retreat as he came, by 
 the one higher up," 
 
 "Will he fight first?" 
 
 " He may be forced to ; otherwise, no. It would 
 be folly to deliberately engage the superior force 
 sent against him. If we only knew the direct 
 path ! " 
 
A DARE-DEVIL DEED. 63 
 
 " If we only had some breakfast," sighed 
 Richard. 
 
 They wanted to ask their way at the scattered 
 cottages and of the men at work in the fields, 
 but they knew not friends from foes. Once they 
 lay for an hour under a plum thicket, not ventur- 
 ing to move, while two men, who had met in 
 the road, stopped their horses for a talk. The 
 afternoon was beginning to wane when they 
 -came to a secluded farmhouse where an old 
 svoman gave them something to eat, and, thinking 
 fchey were Tories, warned them that a body of 
 A.mericans was said to be camped three miles to 
 '.he southwest. They thanked her, but once out 
 of her sight they turned joyfully in the forbidden 
 direction, and in less than an hour were called to 
 halt by two men with bayonets. 
 
 " Take us to your general, and take us quick," 
 said Dunn. 
 
 La Fayette recognized Dunn instantly, and 
 received his news with much emotion, for he had 
 hoped to strike a telling blow on some of the 
 outposts, and maybe cut off a foraging party, 
 whose members would be valuable prisoners for 
 exchange. Now there was nothing but to turn 
 back. But even as they were making ready 
 for a retreat over the road by which they had 
 come, his scouts came flying through the lines 
 with the news that Grant was close upon them 
 in the rear, having made a circuitous march 
 in order to get between them and their camp 
 
64 JOSCELTN CHESHIKE. 
 
 at Valley Forge. La Fayette set his teeth as 
 he said : — 
 
 "Then 'tis fight, though that means death to 
 every brave man here." 
 
 But Dunn told of Matson's ford still unguarded, 
 and the commander was quick to seize the one 
 chance left to save his men, and before midnight 
 the little band was safely over the river, with 
 their faces toward Yalley Forge. There they 
 were received with cheers by their comrades, 
 who, having heard some wild rumours brought 
 by two countrj^men from beyond the Schuylkill, 
 had feared the worst for them. 
 
 That night, long after Richard was sleeping 
 the sleep of healthy but exhausted youth, Dunn 
 sat in the oflQcers' quarters and told how, with 
 a military rain-coat over his workman's blouse, 
 Richard Clevering had played the gallant to the 
 beauty of Philadelphia and the Jia7icee of Howe's 
 chief of staff. 
 
CHAPTER YIIL 
 A maid's dream and the devil's wooing. 
 
 " A pleasing land of drowsy head it was : 
 Of dreams that wave before the half -shut eye ; 
 And of gay castles in the clouds that pass, 
 Forever flushing round a summer sky." 
 
 , — Thompson. 
 
 IT was June-time in the beautiful hill country 
 along the Eno. Down the long road that 
 sloped to the bridge from the west two horses 
 took their leisurely way, while their riders talked 
 or were silent at will. Below them, in the curve 
 of the river, lay the town in a green summer 
 dream ; the roadside was lined with nodding blos- 
 som heads, and the thickets were a-rustle now and 
 then with the subdued whir of wings, for the song 
 season of their feathered tenants was done, and 
 sparrow and wren and bluebird were busy with 
 family cares. 
 
 " Joscelyn, you are not listening to a word I am 
 saying," complained Mary Singleton, petulantly, 
 after repeating a question a second time and get- 
 ting no answer. 
 
 " 1 beg your pardon, Mary ; I believe you are 
 right." 
 
 " Of what were you thinking so intently ? " 
 
 fi5 
 
66 JOSCELYN CHESHIRE. 
 
 " I was not thinking. It is too delicious this 
 afternoon to do anything, even think. I am just 
 resting my mind." 
 
 ""Well, I find you very dull under such a 
 process." 
 
 " ' A friend should bear a friend's infirmity,' " 
 quoted Joscelyn. 
 
 " Dulness is not an infirmity ; it is a crime." 
 ' "Then methinks the world must be full of 
 criminals." 
 
 " And those who are so intentionally and volun- 
 tarily should be punished like other wrong-doers." 
 
 Joscelyn laughed. "Well, pass sentence upon 
 me, most wise judge, if you think I was not born 
 that way and that the sin is intentional. Am I 
 to hang for it, or will you be merciful and make 
 it a prison offence ? " 
 
 " Oh, you'll get the hanging soon enough if you 
 go on wearing that red bodice and stringing pic- 
 tures of King George on your balcony ! " 
 
 " So mother says. And hanging is not a becom- 
 ing way to die ; one has no opportunity to say that 
 ' prunes, prisms, and preserves ' sentence that 
 leaves the mouth in such a charming pucker. 
 Well, since my lips are to be awry, I trust they 
 will give me time to put on my new silver-buckled 
 shoes. It would be a comfort to know that at 
 least my feet looked their best." 
 
 " Joscelyn ! You are perfectly horrid." 
 
 " You mean I would be without the ' prunes and 
 prisms ' expression." 
 
A maid's dream and the devil's wooing. 67 
 
 Mary struck her horse and rode forward a few 
 yards, but j^resently fell back again beside her 
 companion. 
 
 " What I asked you just now related to Eustace. 
 Do you think — " 
 
 " I said I Avas not thinking." 
 
 " Well, begin at ouce. Is there any danger that 
 Eustace will really try to marry Betty Clevering ? " 
 
 " Danger is a wrong word, Mary. If Eustace is 
 ever so fortunate as to win Betty, he should spend 
 the rest of his life in thanksgiving. She is as 
 true as steel, and better tempered than either 
 of us." 
 
 " I am not disparaging Betty, and I have often 
 wished our parents were not at outs, so that she 
 and I might be better friends ; we only meet at 
 your house or places of entertainment. But, Jos- 
 celyn, you know — you must know what we all 
 have hoped for you and Eustace." 
 
 Joscelyn turned her eyes fully and calmly upon 
 her companion. " Yes, I know. I should have 
 been even duller than you pronounced me just now 
 not to see through your plan. Diplomacy is not 
 yoMV forte.''^ 
 
 " You knew I — we all wanted you to marry—" 
 
 " Eustace ? Yes ; he and I have often laughed 
 over it to each otner. And now that you have 
 mentioned it, I want to tell you frankly that there 
 is not the faintest possibility of such a thing. 
 As a friend Eustace is charming ; but as a hus- 
 band— " 
 
68 JOSCELTN CHESHIRE. 
 
 " Don't ! Your mouth looks as if jou had bitten 
 a green persimmon." 
 
 " Well, I think with Eustace as a husband life 
 would be all green persimmons, without any 
 prunes or prisms to break the monotony. It 
 would be quite as bad on him as on me ; you 
 would make us both utterly miserable." 
 
 " I cannot believe it. I know Eustace looks at 
 Betty with the utmost admiration, and manages 
 often to meet her ; but 'tis much the same way 
 with every pretty girl, — he must be saying sweet 
 things to each of them. But in his heart I feel 
 sure he prefers you above all the rest, only your 
 indifference holds him aloof. Here is a letter I 
 had this morning, in which he devotes a whole 
 page to happy imaginings about a soldier's wel- 
 come home when the war shall be over. He 
 grows really poetic about shy eyes and the joy 
 of holding a white hand in his. Whom can he 
 mean but j'^ou ? " 
 
 " Betty has shy eyes, and Janet has the whitest 
 hands I know anywhere. As you said, Eustace 
 has a roving fancy." 
 
 Mary sighed. " I intended to read the letter to 
 you, but here we are at the bridge, and we will 
 now be meeting so many people." 
 
 " Give it to me ; I will read it at home," Joscelyn 
 said, stretching out her hand with sudden interest. 
 " It would be preposterous to waste all that senti- 
 ment on a mere sister; it takes an outsider to 
 appreciate touches like that. Oh, it shall be read 
 
A maid's dream and the devil's wooing. 69 
 
 with all the accessories of a grand passion — sighs, 
 smiles, blushes, and suchlike incense." She 
 laughed as she tucked the letter into her belt, but 
 she did not say who the reader would be, and 
 Mary took much comfort in the thought that she 
 Avould appropriate the sentimental parts to her- 
 self. Whose eyes were softer than Joscelyn's, 
 whose hands whiter or sweeter to hold ? 
 
 And so, each thinking her own thoughts, they 
 crossed the wooden bridge that spanned the river, 
 the horses' hoofs making a rhythmic clatter on the 
 boards. In the street beyond they came upon 
 Mistress Strudwick carrying an uncovered basket 
 heaped high with hanks of yarn. The road was 
 a slight ascent, and the corpulent dame was puff- 
 ing sorely. 
 
 " Why, Mistress Strudwick, you with such a 
 load as that ? What does this mean ? " cried 
 Joscelyn. 
 
 "It means that that little darky of mine has 
 run away again, and that there'll be one less limb 
 on my peach tree to-night when he comes back." 
 
 " Will you not take my horse and ride ? " 
 
 " It's been thirty years since I was in a saddle, 
 and I'm not honing to wear a shroud." 
 
 Joscelyn leaned down, and catching the handle, 
 lifted the basket to the pommel of her saddle. " I 
 will not see you make yourself ill in this yya.y. 
 Were there no other servants to spare you this 
 exertion ? You are all out of breath." 
 
 A curious light came into the old lady's eyes as 
 
70 JOSCELTN CHESHIRE. 
 
 she saw the girl steady the basket in front of her ; 
 but she checked the words that had sprung to her 
 lips and trudged slowly along, the riders holding 
 back their horses to keep beside her. 
 
 " What have you two been plotting together 
 this afternoon ? " she asked, looking from one to 
 the other with the pleasure age often finds in con- 
 templating youth and beauty. 
 
 " Have we the appearance of dark conspira- 
 tors ? " laughed Joscelyn. 
 
 "Kay, you both look sweet and innocent 
 enough ; but somehow I'm always giving that 
 Bible verse a twist and reading it : ' Where two or 
 three Tories are gathered together, there is the 
 devil in their midst.' " 
 
 " You should not twist your Scripture, Mistress 
 Strudwick." 
 
 '' Mayhap not, but sometimes it makes an un- 
 common good hit." 
 
 " Well, you were wrong to-day. Two Loyalists 
 have been congregated together ; but Cupid, rather 
 than the devil, has been our co-conspirator." 
 
 " So ! It was sweethearts you were discussing ? 
 Tell me now, was it your match or Mary's you 
 were arranging? There is nothing pleases me 
 more than a wedding." 
 
 " I thought you took no interest in matters con- 
 cerning King- George's subjects." 
 
 " King George has naught to do with the wooing 
 of our maids ; and love is love, whether it be Redcoat 
 or Continental," replied the old matchmaker. 
 
A maid's dream and the devil's wooing. 71 
 
 Joscelyn laughed. " I verily believe you'd like 
 to know the courtship of Satan himself, provided 
 he had one." 
 
 " Of course he had, my dear, and a most engag- 
 ing lover he made, I'll be bound, seeing he is so 
 apt a beguiler in other things. Oh, yes, every- 
 body knows that Satan is a married man." 
 
 " Where got he his wife ? " 
 
 The old lady threw up her hands with quizzical 
 scouting : " 'Tis not set down in the books, but it 
 would have been just like some soft-hearted crea- 
 ture to creep after him when he was exiled from 
 heaven. And she is not the only woman who 
 has followed a man to perdition, either, — more's 
 the pity ! " 
 
 " You are seeing things awry to-day. Mistress 
 Strudwick." 
 
 " Mayhap, mayhap," puffed the old lady. " I 
 haven't much of a prophet's eye, but I see things 
 of to-day plain enough, and I know that you are 
 a pair of uncommon pretty girls, and are like to 
 have many a beau on your string ; but when mar- 
 rying time comes, take an old woman's advice and 
 choose a man who is hale and hearty, for as sure 
 as you are born, love flies out of the heart when 
 indigestion enters the stomach." 
 
 " Truly, Mistress Strudwick, you are better than 
 ' Poor Richard's Almanac,' " laughed Joscel}^. 
 
 " Oh, my dear, I've seen it tried. Courtship is 
 the finest thing in the Avorld, but after the wed- 
 ding love is largely a question of good cooking ; 
 
72 JOSCELYN CHESHIRE. 
 
 and although vou two are rank Tories, and so 
 deserve any punishment the fates might send you, 
 still I'd be glad, because of your comely looks, to 
 see 3'^ou escape your deserts. But here we are at 
 my gate. I \yonder what the town will sa}^ Josce- 
 lyn, when they hear that you, Tory that you call 
 yourself, brought a basket of w^ool for Continen- 
 tal socks from Amanda Bryce's to my door." 
 
 The sirl's face flamed with a sudden heat. Then 
 she said with that beautiful courtesy that older 
 folks found so charming: — 
 
 " It was not for the Continentals, but for my 
 good neighbour that I brought the basket. I am 
 not minded to see her kill herself in so bad a 
 cause ; rather do I want her to live and repent of 
 her mistakes, that she herself may not be the first 
 to solve that riddle of the devil's wooing." And 
 kissing their hands jauntily to the old woman, the 
 two girls rode away into the purple twilight. 
 
 "Bless her bonny face and quick tongue!" the 
 old woman cried, waving her hand after them. 
 
 That night Mary cried herself to sleep over her 
 shattered hopes, and in the privacy of a w^hite-cur- 
 tained room, Joscelyn read aloud the letter to her 
 Avhora Eustace had in mind when he thought of 
 the welcome of shy eyes and clinging white 
 hands. And Betty fell asleep with the letter 
 under her cheek, and all the soft June night was 
 filled with flitting cadences and starry dreams. 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 ON MONMOUTH PLAIN. 
 
 " Wut's words to them whose faith and truth 
 On war's red techstone rang true metal ; 
 Who ventured life and love and youth 
 For the great prize o' death in battle ? " 
 
 — Lowell. 
 
 A ND it was June-time, too, in the far-off 'New 
 ■^-^ Jersey country across which an army, glit- 
 tering with scarlet and steel, took its way. Slowly 
 it moved ; for with it went a wagon-train convey- 
 ing many of the refugees from the evacuated city 
 of Philadelphia, people who could not crowd into 
 the transports that went by sea, but who feared 
 to meet the incoming Americans and so sought 
 safety in New York. Children and delicately 
 reared women slept in army tents, or sat in their 
 coaches all day, listening to the crunching of the 
 wheels in the sand and looking back through the 
 slowly increasing distance to the horizon, behind 
 which lay the deserted city where pleasure had 
 held high carnival during the months just passed. 
 And with them they carried everything that could 
 be packed into coach or hidden in wagon; and 
 though they went with the semblance of victory 
 and almost of pleasure-seekers, it was a sad pro- 
 
 73 
 
74 JOSCELYN CHESHIRE. 
 
 cession ; for who could say when or upon what 
 terms they might ever see their old homes again ? 
 Often Clinton looked back impatiently at the 
 crawling train, for he had not liked to be so 
 hampered, and yet had been quite as unwilling 
 to abandon these people to the vengeance they 
 imagined awaited them. 
 
 Almost before they had lost sight of the spires 
 of the city, Arnold, with braying bugles, marched 
 his column down the echoing streets, and set up 
 the standard of the republic where late the Brit- 
 ish lion had wooed the wind. 
 
 For nearly a week that long train crept on its 
 way, held back by its own cumbersome weight 
 and the varying roughness of the route. And 
 ever on its flank hung the lean but resolute army 
 of the Continentals, waiting and longing for a 
 chance to strike. All the suffering of Valley 
 Forge was to be avenged. Every wrong they 
 had sustained was whispering at their ears and 
 tugging at their memories; every dead comrade 
 seemed calling out to them for retribution through 
 the sunshine or the midnight silence. And it 
 should be theirs ; the utmost atonement that 
 arms, nerved with patriotic and personal ven- 
 geance, could achieve should be claimed — if 
 only the hour would come. But still that long 
 train moved onward, and there came no word to 
 fight. 
 
 Then, from out the blue sky-reaches of that 
 June-time dawned Monmouth day. 
 
ON MONMOUTH PLAIN. 75 
 
 « We are to fight at last ! " 
 
 And every man in that thin, dishevelled line 
 felt his heart throb with the exultation of action 
 long desired and long delayed. Every man but 
 one, and he the one on whom rested the responsi- 
 bility of the attack. 
 
 "Anybody but Lee!" Dunn had said with a 
 groan, when he heard who was to lead the attack- 
 ing column. And Eichard, having gone with him 
 to report some scouting work to the council of 
 officers, and recalling Lee's fierce opposition to 
 any plan for battle, groaned too. 
 
 " His envy of General Washington and his im- 
 prisonment among the British have made him half 
 Tory. He is the senior officer, it is true, — but if 
 he had only persisted in his first refusal to lead 
 the division and left it to La Fayette ! " 
 
 But in Richard's thoughts there was no time 
 for doubt when, in the brilliant light of the next 
 morning, he swept with his column over the brow 
 of the low hill and on down the narrow valley 
 toward the scarlet line that marked Clinton's post. 
 It was his first real battle ; for compared with this 
 the engagements under Sumter had been but skir- 
 mishes, and the frenzy of the fight was upon him. 
 " For home and Joscelyn ! " had been the war-cry 
 he had set himself, thinking to carry into the hot- 
 test of every fray the memory-presence of the girl 
 whom he loved. But when the test came she was 
 forgotten, and only the menace ahead, the death 
 he was rushing to meet, was remembered. Every 
 
76 JOSCELTN CHESHIRE. 
 
 musket along that steadfast scarlet line seemed 
 levelled at him alone, and into his heart there 
 flashed a momentary wish to turn and seek shel- 
 ter in flight from the leaping fire of the deadly 
 muzzles. But in the quick onset, the shouts, the 
 growl of the guns, and the challenging call of 
 the bugles, this fear was conquered ; and in its 
 place a wild, unreasoning delirium seized upon 
 him, and the one thought of which he was con- 
 scious was to kill, kill, kill ! 
 
 To those blue-clad men, burning with the mem- 
 ory of their sufferings and their wrongs, it seemed 
 as if nothing could stand before them ; but Brit- 
 ish regulars were trained to meet such an advance, 
 and the red line was as a wall of adamant. Be- 
 tween the attack and the repulse there seemed to 
 Richard scarcely breathing-time ; for they were 
 repulsed, and, fighting still, were driven back 
 through that narrow defile, expecting every mo- 
 ment that Lee would send them succour so that 
 they might again take up the offensive. But in- 
 stead of reenforcements, there came that strange 
 order to retreat. Retreat? Had there not been 
 some mistake ? The officers looked at each other 
 incredulously, suspiciously, half-inclined to diso- 
 bey ; for the battle was hardly yet begun, and 
 this first check was not a rout. Then full of rage 
 and doubt they repeated to their subordinates 
 the orders of the couriers, and the regiment fell 
 back sullenly, clashing against other regiments 
 who had not struck a blow, but to whom had also 
 
ON MONIVIOUTH PLAIN. 77 
 
 come that mysterious order to fall back. What 
 was the matter, what was this paralyzing hand 
 that had been laid upon them ! Xo one could 
 tell ; but men retreated looking longingly over 
 their shoulders at the enera3\ Confusion grew 
 almost into panic as those still further away saw 
 the retiring columns pursued by the Redcoats, and 
 knew not the cause nor yet what dir6 disaster had 
 befallen. 
 
 Then suddenly upon the field there came the 
 Achilles of the cause, and the rout was turned. 
 
 " The general — thank God ! " the officers 
 sobbed ; and the men cheered as those who are 
 drowning cheer a saving sail. 
 
 Richard was too far off to hear the fierce protest 
 and rebuke heaped upon Lee, but in a few minutes 
 an aide galloped up to his regiment and cried out 
 to Wayne : — 
 
 " General Washington saj^s you and Ramsey are 
 to hold the enemy in check here upon this hillside 
 until he can re-form the rear." 
 
 And the blue line swung about and steadied, 
 and met the English face to face ; and Richard 
 Clevering's battle-cry rang full and clear amid the 
 yells that vrell-nigh drowned the roar of the mus- 
 ketry. About that sun-scorched knoll there fell 
 the fiercest part of the fray. The palsy of hesita- 
 tion was gone, and desperation had made the men 
 invincible. Ag'ain and again that red wave from 
 the open space before surged against them, broke 
 and recoiled and gathered and came again like 
 
78 JOSCELTN CHESHIRE. 
 
 some strong billow of the ocean that rolls itselt 
 against a headland — fierce, blind, futile. 
 
 Then came the climax of the splendid tragedy. 
 Upon "Wayne's right was a Continental battery 
 from which a great gun sent its deadly challenge 
 to the foe. Again and again its whirring missives 
 tore great gaps in the red ranks, until Clinton gave 
 orders to silence it at any cost. 
 
 Careless of danger, unconscious of his impend- 
 ing doom, the gunner loaded his piece anew, and 
 lifted the rammer to send the charge home. Be- 
 hind him stood his wife, who had left the safety 
 of the wagons to bring him water from a wayside 
 ravine, for the sky was like copper and the dust 
 blew in suffocating gusts. She saw what he did 
 not, the shifting of the enemy's gun in the plain 
 below, the turning of its deadly muzzle full upon 
 the knoll where they stood. But there was no 
 time for so much as a warning cry ; for instantly 
 the flame leaped out, the ground shook with a 
 strong reverberation, and a groan went up from 
 the Continentals as they saw the dust fly from the 
 knoll and their own brave gunner throw up his 
 arms, swing sidewise, and then fall dead. For one 
 awful moment no one moved; then two men from 
 the line sprang forward to take his place, but some 
 one was before them — some one with the face of 
 an avenging Kemesis. There was the flutter of a 
 skirt, a woman's long black hair streamed back- 
 ward on the wind, and Moll Pitcher stood in her 
 husband's place like an aroused lioness of the 
 
ON MONMOUTH PLAIN. 79 
 
 jungle. Furj gave her the strength of a Boadi- 
 cea, and the rammer, still warm from the dead 
 man's grasp, went home with a single thrust ; the 
 flame flashed over the pan, and with a roar that 
 shook the heavens, the big gun sent back into 
 the red ranks the death it had witnessed. When 
 the smoke had lifted, the breathless men saw the 
 woman, one hand still upon the great black gun, 
 stoop down and kiss the dead husband she had 
 avenged ; and all down the Continental line eyes 
 Avere wet and throats were cracked and dry with 
 cheering. 
 
 All the rest of that fateful day, with the eyes 
 of her dead love watching her staringly, Moll 
 Pitcher held her place beside the gun, solacing 
 her breaking heart with its flash and roar, hold- 
 ing back her woman's briny tears until the silent 
 vigils of the night, when her mission was accom- 
 plished. 
 
 And in the meantime, in the rear, the voice of 
 a single man, with its trumpet tones of inspiration, 
 was bringing order out of chaos. Regiments were 
 re-formed, scattered companies gathered, batteries 
 turned, and defeat robbed of its surety. Men, who 
 a moment before had been panic-stricken with the 
 confused marching and counter-marching of the 
 day, looked into the face of the commander and 
 felt their hearts beat with an answering calm. 
 Confidence was restored, and the routed corps 
 were turned into attacking columns. And so 
 when that red wave broke for the last time against 
 
80 JOSCELYN CHESHIRE. 
 
 Wayne's and Ramsey's divisions on the hillside, 
 reenforcements were close at hand. 
 
 But they came too late for some of the brave 
 men who had saved liberty and honour that day, 
 for the red wave, receding, took as its flotsam all 
 the men in buff and blue who, in their enthusiasm 
 and temerity, had advanced too far beyond the 
 ranks. 
 
 And among these prisoners went he whose bat- 
 tle-cry had been, " For home and Joscelyn ! " 
 
" Richard was dragged along with the British until their 
 position was regained." 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 IN Clinton's tents. 
 
 " Give me liberty or give me death." 
 
 — Patrick Henry. 
 
 TTATLESS, furious, half-blind from dust and 
 -■— *- the trickling of the blood from the wound in 
 the head that had dazed and rendered him power- 
 less to escape back to his own ranks after meeting 
 the enemy, Richard was dragged along with the 
 British until their position was regained, and 
 thence despatched to the rear, where the other 
 prisoners were held under guard. There he lay 
 on the ground for an hour, listening and longing 
 feverishly for the sound of Washington's assault- 
 ing guns ; but the twilight deepened into starlit 
 dusk, and no rescue came. Then finally he knew 
 by the preparations about him that no further 
 attack was expected, but that a retreat was in- 
 tended. Clinton dared not await the return of 
 daylight and the fight it would bring ; and so in 
 the still hours of the night, while the Continen- 
 tals slept the sleep of utter exhaustion after the 
 marches and counter-marches and combats of that 
 sultry day, he drew his force away, leaving his 
 dead unburied upon the field, and his sorely 
 
 81 
 
82 JOSCELYN CHESHIRE. 
 
 wounded in the deserted camp. To the very 
 last moment, Eichard had listened for an attack, 
 hoping that Washington had waited to plan a 
 surprise ; but over in the direction of the Ameri- 
 can camp all was silent. During the last half of 
 that awful night Eichard marched with the squad 
 of prisoners along the road that led to the sea. 
 The wound in his head, although but slight, made 
 him dizzy with its throbbing, and his heart called 
 out fiercely for freedom and Joscelyn. He had 
 asked not to be put into the wagon with tho 
 Avounded, protesting he was more able to walk 
 than som.e others ; but in reality he was meditat- 
 ing an escape, and knew it would be more easily 
 accomplished from the ranks than from a guarded 
 wagon. Eagerly he watched for a chance. The 
 bonds that at first held the prisoners together had 
 been removed to expedite the retreat, — there was 
 no time that night to spare for any kind of lag- 
 ging, — so that he was free to go alone if the 
 opportunity came. Always his gaze was ahead, 
 every shadow across the road held a possibility, 
 every dark hollow was entered with hope. But 
 the guard, as though divining his intention, closed 
 in compactly at these points and made egress 
 impossible ; and so he plodded on until, with the 
 returning daylight, the}^ found him reeling like 
 a drunken man with fatigue and loss of blood, 
 and, putting him into an ambulance, carried him 
 on toward Sandy Hook. From utter weariness 
 and hopelessness he fell asleep in the jolting 
 
IN Clinton's tents. 83 
 
 vehicle, and only waked at the prod of a bayonet 
 to find the sun well past the zenith. 
 
 " Get up with you and let somebody take your 
 place while you foot it a bit," a rough voice said ; 
 and Richard sprang from the vehicle and helped 
 little Billy Bryce, of his own town, into his place, 
 exclaiming vehemently against his own selfish 
 slumbering. 
 
 " Nay, nay," said the lad, " I am not wounded, 
 more's the shame to me for being taken ! Besides, 
 I have had a long rest under the wagon here, for 
 we halted before noon. I begged the guard not 
 to waken you, but I put your rations aside. Here 
 — you must be near to starvation." 
 
 Richard caught eagerly at the pork and ship 
 biscuit which the lad held out ; it seemed ages 
 since he had tasted food. 
 
 " And you'll be better with your head washed," 
 the guard said, not unkindly, pointing to a little 
 stream that trickled by the roadside; and Richard 
 was quick to obey. 
 
 In a little while they were in motion again, this 
 time more leisurely, and once more thoughts of 
 escape filled Richard with a restless energy. The 
 country was more broken here ; to hide would be 
 easier, and he waited impatiently for the coming 
 of the dark, determined at all hazards to make 
 the attempt — another sunset might put him be- 
 hind prison bars. But he was doomed to dis- 
 appointment, for they were not to march all 
 night, but with the early stars pitched their tents 
 
84 JOSCELTN CHESHIRE. 
 
 upon a flat stretch of country that opened to the 
 east. 
 
 Worn out by the long marches and the cloying 
 sand through which they had toiled, the army 
 soon slept profoundly. Tied together for greater 
 security, the prisoners lay like so many sardines 
 in their tent, before which trod a sentinel. At 
 first there was much whispering among them as 
 to their probable fate, and not a few solemn fare- 
 wells to home and dear ones, with now and then 
 a happy reminiscence such as often comes with 
 the acme of irony to doomed men. One recalled 
 his courting daj'^s, another the swimming pool 
 under the willows ; and yet another his baby's 
 laugh. And set lips relaxed into smiling until 
 suddenly the memory stabbed with a new pain. 
 
 " I shall never see my mother any more, for I 
 know I shall die in that dreadful prison ; but 
 you'll be good to me, won't you, Richard ? " 
 groaned little Billy Bryce, who lay next to 
 Richard with his right hand tied to the latter's 
 left. 
 
 And Richard comforted him as best he could, 
 and by and by the lad slept with the others. 
 
 " I hope they will always let me stay with 
 you," had been his last sleepy whisper. For 
 among the bigger hoys Richard had been his 
 hero and protector, and no service was ever too 
 great for him to undertake for his idol. And 
 Richard had petted and yet imposed upon him 
 in the way peculiar to all boys of a larger growth, 
 
IN Clinton's tents. 85 
 
 when a small one asks nothing better than to 
 obey. It was really to be with Eichard as much 
 as to share in the war that he had stolen away 
 from his mother and followed the Hillsboro' men 
 to the field. 
 
 At last the tent was quiet save for the deep 
 breathing of the tired men, but Eichard could 
 not close his eyes ; he meant to get away. After 
 the watch was changed toward midnight was 
 the time he had set as the most favourable for his 
 plan. All being then found secure, the new guard 
 would be over-sure — and he, like the rest, was 
 worn out with the trials of the past two days. 
 Certainly that was the best time; a confident, 
 tired sentinel ought not to be hard to elude. And 
 he lay still, softly gnawing the rope that bound 
 him to Billy. As he was at the end of the 
 line, his right arm was free, and so his fingers 
 aided his teeth to pick the threads apart. Thus 
 an hour went by, and then the lad beside him 
 stirred. 
 
 " What are you doing, Eichard ? " he whispered ; 
 then added quickly, as his arm felt the loosened 
 cord : " Why, you have bitten the rope in two. 
 You are going to escape? Take me with you, 
 in mercy's name, Eichard ; do not leave me to 
 die in the prison yonder! Eichard, let me go, 
 too." 
 
 " H — sh ! " whispered Eichard, sternly, for the 
 boy's excitement was like to arouse the whole 
 body of prisoners, perchance even alarm the guard 
 
86 JOSCELYN CHESHIRE. 
 
 outside. " Be still, Billy ! I cannot take you — 
 
 two could never pass the guard. I am sorry ; I 
 
 I — wish you had not waked." 
 
 But the lad, whose arm was now free because 
 of the final severance of the cord, caught his hand 
 as with a drowning grip : " You must take me — 
 you must ! " 
 " I cannot." 
 
 " Oh, I will not go on to rot in that vile prison ; 
 I am so young, and my mother has nobody but me ! 
 Don't you know how I have always loved you, 
 Kichard ? You never asked me to do any- 
 thing that I was not ready to try it. I'd never 
 leave you here if I were going to freedom — 
 never! " 
 
 To take him, lessened his chances more than 
 half, and Heaven knew how slender they were 
 already ; but the struggle in Eichard's mind lasted 
 only a moment. Then he leaned over the boy's 
 body and began carefully and quietly to untie 
 the cord that bound him to the next sleeper, 
 stopping now and then when the man made any 
 movement. The lad, guessing his consent by 
 his action, spoke no word, but lifted his head 
 and kissed him on the cheek; and Eichard felt 
 the tears that coursed down the smooth face. 
 
 " You confounded 3"0ung idiot ! " he whispered, 
 but his voice was very tender, and presently, when 
 the knot was loosed, he drew the lad close to him 
 and told his plan. 
 
 "God grant we may both of us get safely 
 
IN Clinton's tents. 87 
 
 away ; but if only one of us succeeds, and that 
 should be I, then will I carry your love to your 
 mother." 
 
 " And if I escape, I shall do the like for you." 
 
 " Ay, laddie, and more ; for you shall say to 
 Joscelyn Cheshire that even behind prison bars 
 I am her lover ; and if death comes, her face, or 
 the blessed memory of it, will outshine those of 
 the angels of Paradise." 
 
 " You love her so, then ? " 
 
 "As a man loves sunshine and warmth and 
 beauty and life." 
 
 " And she loves you ? " 
 
 " 'No, lad, she loves me not." 
 
 And the boy left the silence that followed un- 
 broken, knowing the other wished it so. 
 
 A while later they heard the call of the watch 
 farther down the beat, and presently the sound 
 of steps outside and the welcome " All's well ! " 
 of the relieved sentry. Turning upon their backs 
 with the ravelled ends of the cords hidden close 
 between them, they seemed asleep like their com- 
 rades when the watchman cast the light of his 
 lantern through the flapping canvas door. 
 
 " Too d — n tired to give any trouble," the out- 
 going sentinel said as he glanced along the line. 
 " You will have an easy time to-night." Then he 
 went away, and the two watchers in the tent 
 waited for what seemed an eternity. Finally 
 Eichard lifted the edge of the tent and looked 
 out. The sentinel leaned against a small tree in 
 
88 JOSCELYN CHESHIRE. 
 
 front of the tent, his gun held slack in his jBngers. 
 He was very tired, even to drowsiness. 
 
 " Now," Richard whispered, and crawled stealth- 
 ily from under the rear of the tent, followed by 
 Billy. Keeping in the shadow of the tents, they 
 moved on hands and knees across the ground 
 toward a clump of bushes that promised a hiding- 
 place for reconnoitring. Only twenty yards the 
 stretch was, but to those two crawling figures 
 it seemed a mile. Every weed that swayed 
 against its fellow had in it the sound of a rushing 
 wind, and every twig that broke under hands or 
 knees seemed like the crack of a rifle. To their 
 overwrought senses each breath the other drew was 
 as the sough of a tempest, and they scarcely under- 
 stood how the sentry could not hear. So slowly 
 they had to move that it took fully twenty minutes 
 to cover those few yards. Then, while Billy lay 
 still in the shadow, Richard raised himself stealthily 
 and looked about. They could have happened upon 
 no worse place for their attempt. It was near the 
 end of a short beat up and down which two senti- 
 nels trod, passing each other near this end, so that 
 only a few moments intervened when one or the 
 other did not command the whole beat with his 
 eye and gun. Behind and on either side stretched 
 the tents of the sleeping army, set thick with 
 picket posts and guards. On the other side of 
 the narrow road was a rock large enough to 
 conceal a man, and beyond this was a field of 
 high grass, to gain which meant freedom. Not 
 
IN Clinton's tents. 89 
 
 a detail of the starlit scene escaped Richard. To 
 go backward or to the right or left was to fall 
 into repeated dangers; this was the way since 
 they were here. If only the sentries passed 
 each other in the middle of the beat, that there 
 might be more time when this crossing in front 
 of them would be a little longer unguarded ! 
 
 He stood irresolute, trying to think accurately ; 
 but a noise behind left him no time for further 
 hesitation. Something was amiss yonder in the 
 rear, — perhaps their flight had been discovered. 
 Billy, too, had heard, and rising, stood close be- 
 hind ; softly he put out his hand and drew the lad 
 before him. One agile spring across the road, a 
 moment's hiding in the shadow of the rock 
 yonder, then the tall grass and liberty ; but be- 
 tween the passing of the sentinels was time for 
 only one man to cross to safety — only one man 
 could hide yonder behind that rock! The little 
 lad saw it, and his lips twitched. 
 
 " Good-by," he whispered, trying to move back. 
 
 But Eichard held him fast. In his hands was 
 not the semblance of a tremor, but his face was 
 ashen even in the dim light. 
 
 "Remember Joscelyn," he breathed, rather than 
 spoke ; then, as the guard passed, he gave the lad 
 a push. " Go." 
 
 With a stealthy, gliding step Billy was across 
 the road and behind the rock as Richard dropped 
 to the ground and the guard turned round. Evi- 
 dently the man's trained ear had detected some 
 
90 JOSCELYN CHESHIEE. 
 
 sound, for he paused and brought his gun to his 
 shoulder. Richard's eyes were on the rock over 
 the road ; if Billy moved now, they were both lost ; 
 but all was still, and the guard once more took up 
 his march. When he was gone a few paces 
 Richard saw a dark object crawl from the shadow 
 of the rock, and a moment later the tall grass 
 shook as if a gentle zephyr had smitten it in 
 just one favoured spot; then all was silent and 
 moveless save the crickets and the night birds flap- 
 ping past in the gloom. 
 
 Billy had left the way clear, and when the next 
 sentinel should be at the right place Eichard 
 meant to follow, and so he drew a deep breath 
 and waited. But fortune was against him, for 
 before the man was quite opposite to him another 
 guard came out into the road from the camp 
 behind and accosted him. As they approached, 
 Kichard heard in part w^hat they said : — 
 
 " — couriers just arrived — enemy moving on 
 the Brunswick road, supposed intention to out- 
 flank us. All outside pickets are being doubled 
 to prevent desertion, and I am sent to mount 
 guard here at the end of your beat. Two Hes- 
 sians were caught in the act of deserting just 
 now." 
 
 "I heard some kind of commotion." 
 
 " Yes ; 'twill go pretty hard with them to-mor- 
 row. "When we first took them we thought they 
 were a couple of those prisoners w^ho were trying 
 to escape, and the air fairly smelt of the brimstone 
 
IN Clinton's tents. 91 
 
 we were ready to give them. The light came 
 just in time to save them. Those Hessians are 
 a d — d set of hirelings." 
 
 He stooped to adjust his shoe-latchet, and when 
 the regular guard passed on to the end of his beat 
 Richard dropped down quickly, but with an inward 
 £-roan, for with that man stationed there at the 
 end of the track escape was impossible. There 
 had been but one chance, just one, and he had 
 given that away. He would not regret it, but — 
 he should never see Joscelyn again. It was all he 
 could do to keep back the fierce cry that gathered 
 in his throat. For a long time he crouched there, 
 hoping in the face of despair ; but the dawn was 
 coming — if he was found thus, his punishment 
 would be made the greater. There was no use in 
 courting torture. And so, when a passing cloud 
 obscured the stars, he crawled back across the clear- 
 ing, and crept at last under the edge of the tent. 
 
 " Here, Peter," he whispered in the ear of the 
 next man, " Billy has escaped. I failed ; but 'ti? 
 no use to tempt the devil to double my stripes.- 
 Wake up and tie this cord about my left arm that 
 it may seem as if he gnawed it himself until it was 
 loose. 
 
 And in the morning the guard found him asleep 
 with a bit of ravelled rope about his arm. Search 
 and inquiry failed to reveal anything of Billy's 
 escape or his whereabouts, and the incident, so far 
 as the prisoners were concerned, ended in the vol- 
 ley of oaths and threats delivered to them second- 
 
92 JOSCELYN CHESHIRE. 
 
 hand by the guards from the oflBcer of the day. 
 They were not pleasant words to hear; but 
 Kichard only drew a deep breath, for he had 
 feared Billy would linger waiting for him and so 
 be taken. 
 
CHAPTER XL 
 
 FROM CAMP TO PRISON. 
 
 *♦ My day is closed ! the gloom of night is come 
 A hopeless darkness settles o'er my fate.'- 
 
 — Joanna Baillib. 
 
 MANY times during the day's march did 
 Richard turn his eyes wistfully toward the 
 blue hills to the south, and wonder beyond which 
 of them Billy was speeding to rejoin his com- 
 mand. The thought had in it such an element of 
 bitterness that finally he thrust it from him lest it 
 wax into selfish envy. 
 
 Finally they reached their goal, and the vast 
 body of men and animals halted beside the bay 
 whose waters sparkled under the blue and gold 
 tones of the summer sky. In the ofiing la}'^ the 
 English fleet, which by the happiest chance for 
 Clinton had arrived inside the Hook in time to 
 convey his exhausted army to New York. 
 
 The quick, salt wind whipping Richard in the 
 face, gave him a sense of vigour and reserve 
 strength, which was speedily nipped by a chilling 
 realization of his hopeless captivity. Mechani- 
 cally he ate and drank when the guard bade him ; 
 for the prison bars were now inevitable, and he 
 would lie rusting his heart and manhood out 
 
 93 
 
94 JOSCELYN CHESHIRE. 
 
 while the fight went by outside. In an agony of 
 despair he cursed the impetuous daring that had 
 led him so far in advance of his column as to 
 deliver him into the hands of the enem}^ And 
 he cursed both the moonlight that had flooded 
 the road the first night of their march, and the 
 guard whose lynx eyes seemed ever upon him ; 
 and finally he cursed himself more sorely than 
 aught else, because he had not followed Billy 
 at all hazards and let a bullet end the problem 
 forever. 
 
 But life is sweet to j^outh, and hope finds ever 
 a place in the heart that is full of an unsatisfied 
 love; and so by the time he had finished his 
 spare meal he was ready to look at the future 
 \vith more calmness. Outside in the free world 
 <roscelyn would wait for him, and prison doors 
 must sometimes yawn. The soldier who brought 
 liim his supper stayed for a few minutes to talk. 
 ]B.e had a frank, friendly face that Kichard liked. 
 
 " So we gave your sly general the slip after all, 
 and held to our march as we at first intended." 
 
 " Did Clinton originally and intentionally pro- 
 pose to make a night march at almost double- 
 quick over such roads as we have traversed? 
 D — d queer military tactics." 
 
 The fellow grinned. " Oh, a little change of 
 programme mattered not, so we lost not a single 
 wagon of our train. See, they are yonder, as safe 
 as a ship in port." 
 
 " Mayhap ; but you saved your skins whole by 
 
FROM CAilP TO PRISON. 95 
 
 stealing away from Monmouth like a thief in the 
 night, and, leaving the foe you pretended to 
 despise, camped on the hattle-ground." 
 
 " Oh, we begrudge not you fellows a camping 
 ground — we are not that greedy." 
 
 " iSo ; you Avanted them, in fact, to have all the 
 ground in the vicinity, even if you had to be so 
 unselfish as to march all night to leave it to them." 
 
 " Come, your tongue's too sharp," the fellow 
 said irritably. 
 
 " Sharper than your general's wits, if he took 
 that march out of anything but necessity. He 
 has saved his baggage train, but, mark you, he 
 has lost his cause. Our victory at Monmouth will 
 hearten up the doubtful and send them flocking 
 to our camp." 
 
 The man laughed satirically at the word " vic- 
 tory," and then said : — 
 
 " "Well, at all events, your part of the flocking 
 is done for good. 'Tis not likely you'll see the 
 outside of a prison for more months than you are 
 years old — if by any chance your general hangs 
 on that long, which is not likely." 
 
 Eichard shivered at mention of a prison, but 
 shrugged his shoulders with outward calm. " A 
 man must bear the fortunes of "war, if he be a true 
 soldier. Prison life is harder than fighting, but 
 some must carry the heavy end of the burden, 
 and 'tis not for me to bemoan if it falls to me. 
 Know you in which of your pest holes we are like 
 to be confined ? " 
 
96 JOSOELYN CHESHIRE. 
 
 The soldier looked into the clear, steady eyes 
 for a moment before replying : " Tou're a rum 
 chap to take your medicine without a whine, I 
 like your sort, and I hope, when this cursed war 
 is done, you'll be found alive ; but it isn't likely, 
 for methinks you are to go to the old Sugar 
 House in New York. 'Tis as full as an ant-hill 
 now, but they'll shove the poor devils a bit closer 
 together and squeeze you in. You'll have plenty 
 of time, but not much room, to meditate on your 
 evil doings against King George. Still, 1 hope 
 you'll live through it." 
 
 He picked up the empty can out of which the 
 prisoner had been drinking, and moved on. Kich- 
 ard, who had been sitting upright during the con- 
 versation, sank back upon the ground and pulled 
 his cap over his eyes. The old Sugar House ! 
 Too well he knew of the misery and degradation 
 in store for those who crossed its threshold. No 
 escapes were ever eflPected, and the hope of ex- 
 change, unless one were an oflBcer, was too slim to 
 dwell upon ; Washington's captures went for 
 higher game than privates and raw recruits. But 
 two things could open these relentless gates to 
 him — death or the end of the struggle ; and the 
 latter seemed far enough away. 
 
 And Joscelyn ! would she care that he suffered 
 and died by inches ? Would she think of him 
 regretfully, tenderly, when all was done ? It 
 was hard to love a girl of whose very sympathy 
 one was not sure ; and yet he knew he had 
 
FKOM CAMP TO PRISON. 97 
 
 rather have her mockery than another woman's 
 caresses. 
 
 For an hour he lay upon the ground, his heart 
 convulsed with grief, but his body so rigidly quiet 
 that his companions thought he slept. They could 
 not tell that under his cap his eyes were staring 
 wide, seeing, not the cap above, but a girl's face 
 framed in soft meshes of hair and lit by eyes as 
 gray-blue as the sea when the tides are quiescent 
 and the winds are fast asleep. By and by the 
 intense heat of the evening set the wound in his 
 head to throbbing, and rousing up, he begged 
 the corporal of the guard for a little water and a 
 bandage. The man — the same with whom he 
 had talked before- — brought these to him after a 
 little delay, and found for him in his own kit a bit 
 of healing salve, which his English mother had 
 given him at parting. 
 
 " She said 'twould cure bad blood, and methinks 
 yours is bad enough to put it to the test," he said, 
 laughing, and yet with a certain rough kindliness. 
 
 " Well, since it hath not killed you, methinks I 
 am safe," Richard laughed back gratefully, while 
 one of his comrades dressed the wound, which 
 gave promise of speedy healing. 
 
 ""What is your name?" he asked of the 
 corporal. 
 
 " James Colborn, of the King's Artillery." 
 
 " Well, 'tis a pity you are in such bad employ, 
 for you have an uncommon good heart and a face 
 that matches it. When General Washington 
 
98 JOSCELTN CHESHIRE. 
 
 hath licked the boots off you fellows, come down 
 south and pay me a visit. My mother'll be so 
 grateful for every kind word you have spoken to 
 me, that she'll feed you on good cookery until 
 you are as fat as a Michaelmas goose." 
 
 "I'll come," the other laughed, "but I'll wear 
 my boots; it will be you fellows who will go 
 barefooted from a licking." 
 
 "Don't wager your birthright on that; you'd 
 lose even the mess of pottage." 
 
 Under the relief the dressing of his wound 
 afforded, Eichard fell asleep, and his dreams 
 must have been comforting, for on his face was 
 a smile of happiness, and the words he murmured 
 made the corporal of the guard laugh to himself 
 as he trod to and fro before the open tent. 
 
 " Have you a favourite dog named Joscelyn ? " 
 lie asked teasingly, when he roused Richard for 
 supper. 
 
 "No." 
 
 "A horse, then?" 
 
 Eichard looked at him questioningly, half- 
 inclined to be angry. 
 
 "You have been talking in your sleep." 
 
 " Joscelyn is not a dog nor a horse ; she is my 
 sweetheart." 
 
 "Mine's named Margie." 
 
 There was a moment of silence during which 
 the two young fellows felt almost akin with 
 friendly sympathy. They longed to shake hands 
 and tell each other their love tales. 
 
FROM CAMP TO PRISON. 99 
 
 " Margie's eyes are black," said Colborn softly. 
 
 " Joscelyn has sea-blue eyes." 
 
 "I like black ones better." 
 
 "Fd love Joscelyn's eyes, were they as vari- 
 coloured as Joseph's coat." 
 
 " "Well said." The speaker thrust his hand into 
 his shirt and drew out a metal case which con- 
 tained a picture of a buxom English girl. "It 
 took a whole month's pay to have that made, 
 but I wasn't coming to America without bringing 
 a likeness of her to look at. When I am pro- 
 moted to a captaincy I shall have it set in gold 
 and brilliants. She is counting the months until 
 I go back to her," he continued with a burst of 
 confidence, while his honest face flamed with a 
 boyish blush. "For every week I am away, she 
 drops a pebble into a china jar I gave her, that I 
 may count the kisses she shall owe me when we 
 meet. Never you doubt but I shall cheat in the 
 count, though I have to carry back a pocketful 
 of American pebbles to help me out ! " Then, by 
 way of prelude to that coming happiness, he 
 kissed the picture with eager frankness before 
 returning it to the case, saying there were already 
 twelve pebbles in the jar. 
 
 Many times during the few days when the army 
 lay encamped upon the sandy reaches of the 
 Hook did Eichard have occasion to be grateful 
 to the young corporal for little acts of kindness, 
 and in return he told him something of his OAvn 
 life, SO that a curious friendship was formed be- 
 
100 , JOSCELTN CHESHIRE. 
 
 tween the two ; and when the embarkation finally 
 came, Richard was glad to find that the same 
 guard and ofiicers would have the prisoners in 
 charge until the dreaded doors of the jail should 
 close upon them. 
 
 As they marched clankily down the streets of 
 New York, he believed that now he knew how 
 condemned men felt as they approached the gal- 
 lows, only the gallows seemed better than those 
 frowning walls yonder, at whose narrow windows 
 the miserable inmates stood in relays that each 
 might draw a few good breaths during the long 
 and suffocating day. The old Sugar House ! He 
 set his teeth hard when at last they stood before 
 its doors, and the first squad of prisoners passed 
 out of sight within its gloomy portals. He was 
 telling the sunshine and the clouds good-by before 
 his turn to enter should come, when, to his sur- 
 prise, the doors swung to, and the squad in which 
 he marched was wheeled down another street. 
 After a few minutes he caught Colborn's eye, 
 and read therein tidings of some new disaster. 
 Whither were they carrying him and his unfor- 
 tunate companions ! No faintest hint of their 
 destination came to him, until, the city being 
 crossed, they halted again, this time beside the 
 water's edge, far to the east. As some delay was 
 evident, the corporal bade the prisoner sit down 
 upon the shore ; and while his men formed in the 
 rear to watch, he himself passed slowly up and 
 down the water's edge, stopping at last beside 
 
FKOM CAMP TO PRISON. 101 
 
 Richard, who sat at the end of the line of cap- 
 tives as much to himself as possible, for his heart 
 was heavy with a new forboding. 
 
 "In ten minutes," said the corporal, speaking 
 quickly and in an undertone, " I shall have parted 
 with you, perhaps forever. I know you for a 
 brave man and a generous one, and I am sorry 
 for your fate. The plan has been changed. The 
 Sugar House would not hold all of you ; so, for 
 lack of other accommodations, this squad of 
 prisoners is ordered to — " 
 
 " Where ? " 
 
 " — to the prison-ships lying across the bay." 
 
 Richard staggered up, " The hells, the float- 
 ing hells ! " 
 
 " Yes, that is what they are sometimes called." 
 
 " My God ! " For a moment the fortitude that 
 had sustained him during the last ten days gave 
 way, and he sank down again, covering his face 
 with his hands in a dry-eyed anguish. 
 
 " I wish from my soul that I might have helped 
 you, but this is all I can do," the corporal said. 
 " Pick them up as a gift from a brother in arms." 
 He surreptitiously dropped some coins upon the 
 sand, and Richard, more because of the friendli- 
 ness of the gift than because he thought of their 
 value, ran his fingers through the sand and picked 
 them up, shoving them into a torn place in the 
 lining of his boot. 
 
 " You have been good to me — " he began 
 slowly, and with the look of a man who is talking 
 
102 JOSCELYN CHESHIRE. 
 
 unconsciously; but with an impatient shrug the 
 other had moved away. When he had walked 
 the length of the line and stood looking over the 
 water a minute, he came again to Eichard's side, 
 apparently with no special object in view. His 
 voice was very low as he said : — - 
 
 "True soldiers respect each other, no matter 
 what the colour of their uniforms. I g-uessed — 
 but I want to know for certain — did you let the 
 little lad escape the other night rather than go by 
 yourself and leave him ? " 
 
 Eichard nodded. Colborn took off his hat. 
 Those who watched him from the sand and from 
 the picket line thought he but bared his head to 
 the cool sea breeze, but in truth it was to a brave 
 man's self-sacrifice. A Scripture verse was run- 
 ning in his head : " Greater love hath no man than 
 this, that he give his life for his friend." But he 
 did not speak it, for a boat grating on the sand 
 behind made him turn. 
 
 "The ship's warden to receive you," he said, 
 with a quick-drawn breath. " God help you ! " 
 Then aloud : " Attention ! " 
 
 The prisoners arose and lined up as the boat's 
 crew came ashore. The warden conferred a few 
 minutes with the corporal, went over the list of 
 prisoners, counted them carefully, eying each one 
 sternly as he did so ; then turned again to the cor- 
 poral, who, after another short conference, stepped 
 out before the line of prisoners. 
 
 " Attention ! My care of you ends here. The 
 
FROM CAMP TO PRISON. 103 
 
 warden of the prison-ships will henceforth have 
 you in charge." At a signal his men fell back, 
 and the crew from the ship's long-boat took their 
 places ; the two officers saluted, and the corporal 
 stepped aside. 
 
 "Attention! Forward! March!" the warden 
 shouted, pointing with his sword to the boat ; and 
 the handful of dazed and miserable captives, like 
 so many automatons, caught step and sullenly 
 moved to the water. As Richard, who brought 
 up the rear, passed Colborn, the latter whis- 
 pered : — 
 
 "Your Joscelyn shall know," and Richard's 
 eyes spoke his thanks. 
 
 Then the boat drew away from shore, carrying 
 its freight of helpless despair to the plague- 
 infected hulk rocking in the tide, the plaything of 
 the winds, the sport of every leaping wave that 
 cast its crystal fringes to the sun. 
 
CHAPTER XII. 
 
 A MESSAGE OUT OF THE NORTH. 
 
 " I love thee, and I feel 
 That in the fountain of my heart a seal 
 Is set, to keep its waters pure and bright 
 For thee." — Shelley. 
 
 " XT'S all very well for our husbands and sons 
 J- to be away fighting for their country — I'd 
 horsewhip one of mine who sneaked at home ; 
 but for all that, this manless state of the town is 
 a terrible test to the tidiness and the tempers of 
 the womenfolk," said Mistress Strudwick, as she 
 sat on her porch with some chosen cronies, and 
 watched the young girls of the town promenad- 
 ing in the aftermath of the July sunset with 
 never a cavalier among them, " Look at Lucinda 
 Hardy, she's as cross as a patch ; and yonder is 
 Janet Cameron, who has not curled her hair for a 
 week — just mops it up any way, since there are no. 
 men to see it." 
 
 "And there's 'Liza Jones without her stays," 
 said Mistress Clevering. 
 
 " Yes, and looking for all the world like a 
 comfortable pillow that has just been shaken up; 
 but if there was a man under threescore in seeing 
 distance, she'd be as trim as you please," replied 
 
 104 
 
A MESSAGE OUT OF THE NOKTH. 105 
 
 Mistress Strudwick. " Heigh-ho, what a slipshod 
 world this would be if there Avere nobody but 
 women in it ! " 
 
 "And what a topsy-turvy place 'twould be 
 wnth only men. Kobody'd ever know where 
 anything was," said quiet Mistress Cheshire, with 
 poignant recollections of striving to keep up with 
 the belongings of two husbands. " Depend upon 
 it, Martha Strudwick, the world would be a deal 
 worse off without women than without men, for 
 men never can find anything." 
 
 "I am quite of your mind, Mary. In sooth, I 
 always had a sneaking notion that Columbus 
 brought his wife along when he came to discover 
 America, and that 'twas she who first saw the 
 land," said Sally Ruffin. 
 
 " I don't seem to remember that there was a 
 Mistress Columbus," said Ann Clevering, biting 
 off her thread with a snap. 
 
 "Well, goodness knows there had ought to 
 have been, for Columbus had a son," replied 
 Martha Strudwick, greatly scandalized, although 
 her own knowledge in the matter was somewhat 
 hazy. 
 
 "How 'pon earth did we ever get to talking 
 such wise things as history ? " asked Mistress 
 Cheshire, whose forte was housewifely recipes. 
 
 " We were saying as how men never could find 
 things." 
 
 " Oh, yes." 
 
 "Well," said Martha Strudwick, thoughtfully, 
 
106 JOSCELYN CHESHIRE. 
 
 " that depends on what kind of things you mean. 
 IS'ow there's my husband — and he's a good man, 
 good as common — he can find a fish-hook in the 
 dark if it's good biting season ; but he can't see 
 the long-handled hoe in the broad daylight if it's 
 weeding time in the garden and the sun is hot. 
 Finding things depends more on a man's mind 
 than his eyes." 
 
 "Then there's a heap of them who lose their 
 minds mighty handy," retorted Ann Clevering. 
 
 Mistress Cheshire pushed back her chair : " I 
 shall run home and caution Dilsy about putting 
 the bread to rise ; she's that unseeing that I think 
 Providence must have first meant her to be a 
 man." "Which was as near a joke as anything 
 Mistress Cheshire ever said. As she trotted 
 away the others looked after her affectionately. 
 
 " Mary is such a mild-mannered woman," said 
 Ann Clevering; "many's the time I've heard her 
 first husband — dead and gone these twenty-three 
 years — say it was an accident little short of a 
 miracle how Providence could make a woman 
 with so little tongue." 
 
 " Joscelyn, with her goings-on, must be a dread- 
 ful trial to her," sighed Amanda Bryce. 
 
 " And not only to her mother, but to the whole 
 town," snapped another woman. 
 
 " Hoity-toity ! " bristled Mistress Strudwick, 
 "what's the matter with Joscelyn? She is the 
 very life of the place, now that the men are gone. 
 If 'twere not for discussing her, and abusing her," 
 
A MESSAGE OUT OF THE NORTH. 107 
 
 — with a withering glance at the last speaker, — 
 " we should go tongue-tied for lack of somewhat 
 to talk about. She's a tonic for us all, and with- 
 out her we'd be going to sleep." 
 
 " Sleep is a good thing," sniffed Amanda Bryce. 
 
 "Ay," retorted Mistress Strudwick, "when 
 you are tucked in bed and the lights are out, it 
 is ; but not when you are standing up flat-footed 
 with baking and brewing and weaving and such 
 things to look after. Joscelyn's all right, Tory 
 though she be. Look at her now, with all those 
 red roses stuck around her belt; she's the finest 
 sight on the street." 
 
 "Fine enough to look at, I'm not gainsaying 
 you ; what I object to is hearing her when she 
 talks about our war." 
 
 " Well, Amanda, if our swords were all as sharp 
 as her tongue can be, the war would soon be over." 
 
 " You always were partial to the lass, Martha." 
 
 "Av, I often told Richard Cleverinff I'd be 
 his rival were I a man, old or young ; and truly 
 I believe Joscelyn would look with more favour 
 upon me of the two," laughed the corpulent dame, 
 remembering the soft little touches with which 
 the girl sometimes tidied up her gray hair and 
 unruly neckerchief, and the caress upon her cheek 
 that always closed the job. 
 
 " I wonder you can take up so for her, Martha, 
 when all your menfolk are in the Continental 
 army, and she a rank Tory." 
 
 "Oh, I can forgive a woman her politics, be- 
 
108 JOSCELYN CHESHIRE. 
 
 cause, like a man's religion, it's apt to be picked 
 up second-hand and liable to change at any 
 time." 
 
 " Don't you believe men have any true re- 
 ligion ? " 
 
 " Well, ye-e-s ; if the rain comes in season, and 
 the crops are good, and the cattle don't break into 
 the corn, and their victuals are well cooked, they 
 are apt to be middling religious." 
 
 "Remember you have a husband of your own." 
 
 " Yes, praise God, I have, and a good man he 
 is, too ; but when the dam in the levee breaks, or 
 the cows get the hollow-horn, he's that rearing, 
 tearing put out that he couldn't say offhand 
 whether preordination or general salvation was 
 the true doctrine ; but the time never comes when 
 he's too mad or too worried to know he's a "Whig, 
 every hair of him. That is what makes me say 
 religion is a picked-up habit with men and poli- 
 tics is their nature. "With a woman it's the other 
 way ; so I laugh at Joscelyn's politics, and kiss 
 her bonny face and love her all the time." 
 
 " That is more than I can do. If it were not 
 for her mother, I should forbid my daughter to 
 have aught to do with her," said Amanda "Bryce, 
 sniffily, as Joscelyn passed the gate with Betty 
 Clevering and Janet Cameron, and called up a 
 pleasant " good afternoon " to the elder women. 
 
 "Well, your girl and not Joscelyn would be 
 the loser thereby," retorted Martha Strudwick, 
 regardless of the fact that she was in her own 
 
A MESSAGE OUT OF THE NORTH. 109 
 
 house; and there would doubtless have been 
 sharp words had not Mistress Clevering inter- 
 posed with some gentle remonstrance. 
 
 A little later the whole party of young people 
 befiran to move toward the tavern ; for it was the 
 day the post was due, if by good fortune it had 
 escaped the marauders and highwaymen who, in 
 the assumed name of war, infested the roads. 
 Always there was a crowd about the tavern on 
 Thursday afternoons, in hopes that news of the 
 fiffhtinD- and of friends would be forthcoming. 
 This particular day they were not disappointed ; 
 for the women on the porch, looking up the 
 street, presently saw that something unusual was 
 to pay, and forgetful of bonnets or caps, they 
 hastened to learn what it Avas. The postbag, 
 with its slender store, lay neglected on the table, 
 for the crowd had gathered eagerly about some 
 one on the steps, and exclamations and questions 
 filled the air. 
 
 " What is it ? " demanded Mistress Strudwick, 
 breathless from her haste, and the crowd divided 
 and showed a lad, pale and worn, sitting on the 
 steps. 
 
 " Billy, my Billy ! " shrieked Amanda Bryce, 
 and passing the other women, she caught him 
 in her arms and hugged him frantically. For 
 a few moments no one spoke or interfered, but 
 after the dame had kissed every square inch of 
 his face, and had felt his head, shoulders, and 
 arms for fractures, Martha Strudwick interposed. 
 
110 JOSCELYN CHESHIRE. 
 
 " Come, Billy, tell us where you come from and 
 what news you bring from the front. Has there 
 been a fight, boy ? " 
 
 " Ay, and a victory for us," 
 
 " A victory ? Hurrah ! When ? Where ? Talk 
 quick ! " cried a dozen voices shrill with their 
 eagerness. 
 
 " At Monmouth town in Jersey. 'Twas there 
 we overtook Clinton as he made for New York." 
 
 " We have already had rumours of it. And you 
 did fight him and put him to rout? Who fell, 
 and who was wounded ? Can't you talk faster ? " 
 
 " Truly we did fight when we got the chance, 
 though Lee — the foul fiends take him ! — tried 
 hard not to let us. It was the hottest day I ever 
 felt. The sand and dust — " 
 
 " Never mind about the sand and dust ; tell us 
 of the battle." 
 
 And so by piecemeal, with many a question 
 and interruption, he told them the story of that 
 remarkable battle and his own capture. 
 
 " And who was taken with you ? " 
 
 "Master Peter Ruffin, Amos Andrews, and 
 Richard Clevering from our company, and some 
 threescore more whom I knew not." 
 
 But only a few heard the last clause of his 
 sentence, for among the women were relatives 
 and friends of each of the men mentioned, and 
 there were sobs and moans for the fate of their 
 loved ones. So great was the abhorrence in 
 which British prisons were held, that death 
 
A MESSAGE OUT OF THE NORTH. Ill 
 
 seemed almost preferable. Then presently Betty 
 Clevering cried shrilly : — 
 
 " And if you were captured, how comes it you 
 are here ? " 
 
 " I escaped." 
 
 " And how many escaped with you ? " 
 
 " None — none ; not even Richard." 
 
 Mistress RuflBn took him sharply by the arm. 
 "Do you mean to say tliat a strip of a lad like 
 you had sense enough to get away, and grown 
 men were held ? That's a pretty tale ! " 
 
 And then with stifled sobs he told of Richard's 
 sacrifice and his own getting away. 
 
 " For an hour I waited there in the grass, hop- 
 ing for him to come ; and when I dared stay no 
 longer I crept to the hillside and hid in a little 
 cave, from which I w^atched the army in the dis- 
 tance take up its march next day. I started once 
 to go back and die with Richard in prison, but — " 
 
 " Talk not so, my son ; 'twould have killed me 
 and done Richard no good," cried his mother, 
 caressing his curly head against her shoulder. 
 " Richard did not want you back — God bless 
 him for a generous lad ! " 
 
 " No," sobbed the lad, " he is so noble, so good ; 
 and I let him go back, let him sacrifice himself for 
 me, for had I but slept on he would have gotten 
 away." 
 
 All this while Mistress Clevering had not spoken; 
 now she lifted her head, and no mother of Sparta 
 ever looked more proud or more resigned. 
 
112 JOSCELYN CHESHIRE. 
 
 " Yes, you were right to come away ; he gave 
 you your freedom at the cost of his own, and it 
 would have grieved him had you returned and 
 made the sacrifice useless. 'Tis a beautiful thing 
 to be the mother of a son like that. I am con- 
 tent." And Martha Strudwick leaned over and 
 kissed her softly. 
 
 " And how fared it with you when the British 
 had marched away ? " asked his mother of Billy. 
 
 " I reached the coast and followed it for two 
 days, when I came to a village whence a trading 
 vessel was leaving to smuggle its cargo to the 
 south. The captain took me on, and after ten 
 days I was put ashore near ISTew Berne town, from 
 which place I have made my way home, travelling 
 with the post these two days." 
 
 " You have not then been back to the army ? " 
 
 " ]S'o, but I shall start to-morrow, now that I 
 have seen you, mother, and when I have given 
 Kichard's messages to Mistress Clevering and — " 
 
 He stopped ; but his glance had travelled to Jos- 
 celyn standing at the edge of the crowd, and Janet 
 Cameron laughed. 
 
 " What said my boy ? Out with it ! " cried Mis- 
 tress Clevering, eagerly. 
 
 " He did send you his dear love, even as he was 
 to bring mine to mother had I been the one left 
 behind. I would I could tell you how reverent and 
 tender his voice was when he spoke your name." 
 
 The Spartan in the woman broke down, and the 
 mother prevailed. " My son, my dear son, did God 
 
A MESSAGE OUT OF THE NORTH. 113 
 
 give you in answer to my prayers only to take you 
 away like this ? What may he not be suffering at 
 this very moment, and I w^ho have w^atched him 
 from his cradle powerless to help him ! Oh, but 
 war is a cruel thing ! My son, my son ! " 
 
 Betty and Mistress Cheshire led her away weep- 
 ing, and for a few minutes, silence held the women 
 as they looked away to the north and thought of 
 the strife enacting, and the pain being endured 
 there for liberty. And besides those carried 
 away into captivity, how many others — perhaps 
 their own nearest and dearest — had been left on 
 the battle-field ? 
 
 " See," cried Amanda Bryce, turning fiercely on 
 Joscelyn, whose eyes, full of a misty tenderness, 
 w^ere following Aunt Clevering down the street — 
 " see what you miserable Tories are doing to us, 
 your neighbours ! Shame upon you, I say ; shame 
 upon you ! " 
 
 "Ay, shame upon you!" cried several voices; 
 and faces scowled and a few fists were clenched. 
 The girl cowered back, amazed, affrighted. 
 
 " Pull those red roses out of her belt ; w^e want 
 no Tor}^ colours here ! " cried Amanda Bryce ; and 
 two or three hands reached toward the knot of 
 scarlet blossoms. But Joscelyn, her eyes begin- 
 ning to kindle, stepped back and raised her own 
 hand w^arningly. 
 
 " Do not touch me ! Yes, I am a Tory, as you 
 are pleased to call us, and I am not ashamed that 
 the king's array hath been preserved from destruc- 
 
114: JOSCELTN CHESHIRE. 
 
 tion ; but I am sorry, very sorry your friends and 
 kindred are to suffer — though perhaps some pun- 
 ishment is necessary to rebels." 
 
 Mistress Strudwick started to the girl's side, but 
 little Billy Bryce was before her. 
 
 " Who touches Joscelyn must first pass me ! " 
 he cried to the angry women. "Mother, be 
 silent ! What share could a girl like this have in 
 our capture ; and what matters a few men taken 
 when the victory was ours ? " 
 
 "Yes, praise God, we thrashed the miserable 
 cowards of Kedcoats as they deserved." 
 
 " A great thrashing 'twas, when they lost not a 
 wagon of their train, and took more prisoners than 
 Washington," Joscelyn answered tartly. 
 
 A dozen voices answered her angrily, and she 
 opened her lips to reply, but Mistress Strudwick 
 clapped her broad palm over the girl's mouth. 
 
 "Hold your saucy tongue, Joscelyn; and you 
 girls, there, be silent this minute. What, is the 
 war to ruin the manners of our women that they 
 can descend so low as to brawl in the public 
 streets? Shame upon you, every one! What 
 hath come of your senses that you thus demean 
 yourselves and belittle the raising your elders 
 gave you ? " 
 
 The reproof had the desired effect ; for the girl 
 stood silent and abashed, and her angry assailants 
 drew back. Taking advantage of the lull. Mis- 
 tress Strudwick seized Joscelyn by the arm and 
 almost forcibly drew her away. 
 
A MESSAGE OUT OF THE NORTH. 115 
 
 " Begone to your home, and bide there till you 
 learn some sense," she cried sharply. "What's 
 the use in butting your brains out against a wall, 
 when there's room enough to go around it ? There 
 is no fool like a self-made fool ! Go." But when 
 the girl had gone a few steps she made her return. 
 "Promise me truly," she whispered, "that you'll 
 go straight home and stay until the fire you 
 kindled here burns down a bit — promise you 
 will not stir from the house, or I shall not sleep 
 to-night." 
 
 " I promise, dear Mistress Strudwick," Joscelyn 
 said, kissing the big hand that patted her cheek, 
 "You heard me say I was sorry our townsfolk 
 were taken, and so I am." 
 
 " Yes, yes. Harkee, tell your mother I say to 
 be sure and send Amanda Bryce a loaf of hot 
 bread for supper — Billy will be hungry with 
 running so far from Monmouth," she said, with a 
 meaning wink. In truth, she intended the hot 
 bread as a peace-offering to Mistress Bryce, for 
 it was by such small acts of quiet diplomacy that 
 she kept down the enmity against the Cheshires, 
 or rather against Joscelyn, since she it was who 
 aroused the resentment. 
 
 Slowly the girl went down the street thinking 
 of the scene just passed. Mistress Strudwick was 
 right ; it was a disgrace for women to brawl thus 
 upon the public thoroughfares; never again would 
 she let her temper get the better of her in this 
 way — only they should not touch her. And al- 
 
116 JOSCELYN CHESHIRE. 
 
 ready half-forgetful of her resolution, she mounted 
 her steps with flashing eyes and flaming cheeks. 
 
 Presently lights began to glimmer through the 
 dusk, and when the dark really came every house 
 in the town showed a candle in its window in 
 token of the advantage won at Monmouth, for 
 since Washington held the field they deemed him 
 victorious. Even in those houses Avhere grief had 
 entered, the light shone; for true patriotism is 
 ne/er selfish. Only the Cheshire windows were 
 dark, so that the house made a blot in the street. 
 Mistress Cheshire had gone to the Cleverings to 
 condole with them over Kichard ; but Joscelyn, 
 because of her promise to Mistress Strudwick, had 
 bided at home, though she would much have 
 loved to comfort Betty. From porch to porch 
 the women called to each other, and some of the 
 girls sang snatches of song here and there, like 
 mocking-birds hid in the shadows. But Joscelyn 
 sat at her upper window, silent and musing, think- 
 ing what a beautiful thing Richard Clevering had 
 done to let the little lad go free while he himself 
 went back to captivity. Suddenly a voice below 
 her whispered : — 
 
 " Hist I Joscelyn, Joscelyn I " 
 
 She leaned over the window-sill. " Who is it ? " 
 
 "It is I — Billy Bryce. I have only a minute, 
 for mother must not know I came, but I have a 
 message for you." 
 
 " From whom comes it, Billy ? " 
 
 " From Bichard. Come quickly." 
 
A MESSAGE OUT OF THE NORTH. 117 
 
 She ran lightly clown to the veranda and leaned 
 over the railing to the boy in the shadow. He 
 took her hands eagerly in his. 
 
 " He loves you, Joscelyn ! " 
 
 She did not answer. He was too earnest for a 
 jest, so she only pressed his hand and waited. 
 
 " He is so noble, so generous, Joscelyn ; even 
 among us younger boys he never did a mean 
 thing, and there's not a man in the company who 
 is not his friend." 
 
 " Yes, I always knew Richard had a kind heart, 
 and his letting you go in his stead w^as unselfish — 
 beautiful ; and I honour him for it." 
 
 " And do you not love him for it also ? " the lad 
 begged wistfully. " Say that you love him just 
 a little." 
 
 "Kay, Billy; he is brave and kind, and he is 
 my friend and Betty's brother, therefore do I 
 Avish him naught but good fortune and happiness ; 
 but, laddie, I do not love him." 
 
 " You are cruel — heartless ! " he cried, flinging 
 her hands away. "Richard's little finger hath 
 more feeling in it and is worth more than your 
 whole body." 
 
 " Your championship does you credit, Billy, and 
 I shall not quarrel with you for appraising my 
 value so low. Mayhap Richard thinks differ- 
 ently," 
 
 " Ay, that he does — more's the pity ! " Then 
 taking her hands again, he said vehemently : " An 
 you come not to love him, I pray God to curse 
 
118 
 
 JOSCELYN CHESHIRE. 
 
 you with an ugliness so great that no other man 
 may ever kiss or love you ! For listen ; as we lay 
 in the dark that night waiting for the moment 
 to escape, this is what he said : ' If you get away 
 and I do not, say to Joscelyn Cheshire that even 
 behind prison bars I am her lover; and that if 
 death comes, her face, or the blessed memory of 
 it, will outshine those of the angels of Paradise.' 
 That was his message. I have faced many dan- 
 gers to bring it to you. Now that you have it, I 
 shall go back to my regiment, and if a ball finds 
 me, well and good ; Eichard will know somehow 
 and somewhere that I did not fail him." 
 
 The girl dropped her head low in the star- 
 light. 
 
 " Good-by, Billy ; you have filled your mission 
 bravely. Heaven keep you safe and send you 
 back once more to your mother and us." 
 
 He put up his hand and stroked her cheek 
 softly. 
 
 " I do not wonder that he loves you, Joscelyn, 
 you are so beautiful, and you can be so sweet — 
 so sweet," he exclaimed, and then ran away into 
 the dark, leaving her alone with the words of 
 the love-message ringing in her ears. 
 
 So still she stood that a big moth flying wearily 
 by rested a moment on her shoulder ; across the 
 way her mother was bidding Aunt Clevering 
 good night with admonitions to sleep well, and 
 from down the street came the voices of the 
 singers chanting of victory and the home-coming 
 
A MESSAGE OUT OF THE NORTH. • 119 
 
 of loved ones. But above everything the girl on 
 the dark balcony heard a deep, strong voice say- 
 ing, " Even behind prison bars I am her lover." 
 
 Prison bars ! 
 
 And suddenly she threw up her arms in the 
 flower-sweet dusk and whispered vehemently : — 
 
 " Set him free, dear God ! set him free ! " 
 
CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 DKEAMS. 
 
 ** For thoughts, like waves that glide by night, 
 Are stillest when they shine." 
 
 — Old Song. 
 
 " "O OUSE up, Richard ! Rouse up, man ! An 
 
 -*-^ you give way like this, you'll soon be 
 taking the ship-fever and dying. 'Tis no use to 
 wilfully hasten the end," said Peter Ruffin to the 
 apathetic man beside him. 
 
 But Richard sat staring over the waters, saying 
 only in a dogged way, " 'Tis no use to retard it." 
 
 " Ay, but it is ; something may happen 
 — Washington may drive Clinton from New 
 York—" 
 
 " He cannot, for he hath not the force." 
 
 " — Or we may escape." 
 
 Richard glanced around the deck where guards, 
 armed to their teeth, trod in ceaseless vigil, and 
 then looked away to the shore, where a few cab- 
 ins marked the station of the shore patrol who 
 took up the watch where the ship guard left off, 
 thus making assurance doubly sure. 
 
 " "With the sea and a double guard against us, 
 the chance is not worth the counting." 
 
 " A resolute man could swim ashore from here." 
 
 120 
 
DREAMS. 121 
 
 " Methinks he could most easily, especially with 
 the tide in his favour ; but if he eludes the watch 
 here, the patrol yonder will shoot him like a rat 
 when he crawls out of the water. N^o, Peter, I 
 have gone over it all in my mind, calculated the 
 method of reaching the water, the length of the 
 swim, and the best place to land. I have even 
 tried to get speech with Dame Grant w^hen she 
 comes with her wares, to see if she could not be 
 bribed to aid me ; but the warden never takes his 
 eyes from her until her sales are over and her boat 
 ready to start. She has a solemnly sour face, but 
 mayhap a gold piece would soften her heart to 
 merc}^ It was for this that I have hoarded 
 Colborn's gold." 
 
 "I, too, thought of the bumboat woman, but 
 gave up hope of aid from her, seeing how she is 
 watched. 'Twere as much as her life is worth to 
 give us the smallest assistance," answered Peter. 
 
 " Yes, we are cut off from every chance, con- 
 demned — doomed — and seeing this, I have given 
 up hope." 
 
 " I am some twenty years your senior, Richard, 
 and I say to you that a sane man never ceases to 
 hope." 
 
 "Then mayhap I am insane — sometimes I 
 think it may be so. Surely, it was the arch- 
 fiend himself who put it into the hearts of the 
 English to turn these disease-infected hulks into 
 prisons ; no mere mortal mind could have in itself 
 conceived such a thought. The fever or the ver- 
 
122 JOSCELYN CHESHIRE. 
 
 rain — which were worse, 'twere hard to say. To 
 rot here inch by inch, and the fight going on out- 
 side ! God, but 'tis hard ! " 
 
 " Hist ! the guard is looking at j^ou suspiciously. 
 'Tis no use getting his ill-will ; let us talk of some- 
 thing else." And when the sentinel passed slowly 
 in front of them, the older man was talking of his 
 boy who had died in childhood, and the younger 
 one had dropped his head again upon his breast 
 and sat in moody silence. Thus had life crept on 
 for five weeks, each day of which was a slow- 
 paced agony, each night a long-drawn horror. 
 
 Wallabout Bay, where the prison-ships wert 
 anchored, cut into the Long Island shore on thb 
 north, and was protected from the storms that 
 rocked the outer deep. Most of the prisoners 
 were seamen, but now and then a squad of land 
 captives, for lack of some other place in which to 
 confine them, were sent thither to starve and 
 suffer and wait their turn to die. The wound in 
 Richard's head had healed, thanks to Colborn'a 
 salve; but the confinement, together with the 
 scant and rancid food and the foul air in the ship's 
 hold where the nights were passed, w^as slowly 
 undermining his strength of body and of will. 
 Each morning the inhuman order, " Rebels, turn 
 out your dead ! " which the guard called down 
 through the opened hatches, sent a shiver of hor- 
 ror to his very soul ; and the feeling was not 
 lessened as he aided in selecting the poor fellows 
 who had died in the night, and saw them sewed 
 
DREAMS. 123 
 
 into their blankets and rowed away to shallow 
 graves upon the shore. Two of the prisoners were 
 made to act as grave-diggers on these occasions, 
 the guard going merely to superintend. 
 
 Twice in the past weeks Richard and Peter 
 had gone in the funeral-boat, and on each occa- 
 sion thoughts of making a break for liberty 
 had haunted them. But the futility of such an 
 attempt was made apparent by the proximity of 
 the shore patrol, within range of whose guns the 
 graves were dug. The nearest cover was a line 
 of sand-dunes and stunted brush-growth fifty 
 yards up the level beach, before reaching which a 
 man could be pierced by twenty bullets. Regret- 
 fully and angrily tbe two men noted this; and 
 later on had it all doubly impressed upon them by 
 the shooting of a prisoner who, one day, when the 
 grave was half-filled, made the mad attempt to 
 get away. Only one of the two impressed grave- 
 diggers came back in the boat that day, for the 
 other was buried where he fell ; and the harshness 
 of the ship-jailers increased toward those who 
 remained. 
 
 "Look," said Richard, shuddering, the second 
 time he and Peter were detailed to take a corpse 
 to the sandy burying-ground ; " already the waves 
 have opened some of the graves and left the poor 
 fellows but the scantest covering. Before long 
 their bones will whiten to the sun." 
 
 " It is a sickening certainty ! And all of this 
 you and I might escape if so we would but go 
 
124 JOSCELYN CHESHIRE. 
 
 back yonder to the warden and take the oath of 
 allegiance to the king, and change these tattered 
 coats for gay uniforms of scarlet," answered 
 Peter. 
 
 " True ; but like those who have gone before 
 us, we will die in the ship yonder and fester here 
 in the sand first. Between death and English 
 slavery there is a quick choice, and we made it 
 long ago. But promise me, Peter, that if I die 
 first you will ask to come as my sexton, and dig 
 me a grave deep enough to keep me from the sea 
 for at least a little while. 
 
 " I will ; and you will do a like thing for me. 
 But as I told you the other day, you will go before 
 me, and soon at that, if so you keep up this dreary 
 moping." 
 
 But Richard could not bring himself to hope. 
 The absolute helplessness of their position, the 
 powerlessness of action of any sort took from 
 him the ability to reason normally. Everything 
 twisted itself backward to the wretched and re- 
 lentless present, turn where he would for consola- 
 tion. And so after the morning tasks of airing 
 blankets and scrubbing decks were performed, he 
 sat all day looking sullenly out over the water, 
 studying the changing moods of the sea, watching 
 the gulls as they flapped past or went soaring 
 upward with the glancing sunlight on their 
 wings. And all this while there was but one 
 clear thought in his mind — Joscelyn. Plainer 
 than the faces about him he saw her features, and 
 
DREAMS. 125 
 
 above the ship noises and the restless wash of the 
 waves, he heard the sweet accents of her voice. 
 Incessantly he brooded over each memory of her, 
 recalling the chestnut tints of her hair, the blue 
 lights in her eyes, and the rose hues of cheeks 
 and lips. Her beauty had never before appeared 
 to him so great or so much to be desired as now. 
 
 " Even behind prison bars I am her lover ; " 
 often he said the words to himself, wondering 
 morbidly if Billy carried her the message, and 
 what she said in answer. He would never know, 
 of course, for his career must end j^onder in the 
 sand with his unfortunate fellows ; but liberty 
 itself would not be sweeter than some token, it 
 mattered not how small, of her sorrow and her 
 favour. How he longed for her, body and soul ! 
 Always in fancy he kissed her good night, hold- 
 ing the sweet face between his palms and watch- 
 ing to see the eyes droop under his ardent gaze, 
 and the delicate lips quiver with the passion of 
 his caress. He told himself it was onlv such 
 fleeting fancies as these that kept him sane. For 
 in these moments she was tender and loving, and 
 she was all his; and the unknown husband — he 
 who would one day claim her in reality when he 
 himself, with his idle dreams, should be dead and 
 gone — -he hated with a jealous rage as vital as 
 though the man stood before him in the flesh ; 
 and he looked at his fingers with a dull sense of 
 their strangling powers, and longed to feel thera 
 tighten over a purpling throat. Peter talked of 
 
12l5 
 
 JOSCELYN CHESHIRE. 
 
 heaven, of its rest and peace; but how could there 
 be for him either joy or peace, even in Paradise, 
 while another man held Joscelyn in his arms? 
 Often in his cloying misery he tried to make out 
 who this other lover would be \ but no one. not 
 even Eustace Singleton, seemed to fill the place. 
 Once, and his heart had been hot with jealousy at 
 the thought, he had imagined that under hers 
 and Eustace's frank friendship there lingered a 
 warmer feeling; but this fancy stood no test of 
 observation, for in no act of Joscelyn's was there 
 a trace of that air. indescribable yet unmistak- 
 able, that marks the beginnings of love ; and of 
 late months Eustace had a way of looking at 
 Betty that put strange fancies into Richard's 
 head. No, Joscelyn and Eustace were not lovers ; 
 it would be some one else, some stranger who 
 would claim all the sweetness of her love. And 
 at the thought the murderous fingers writhed 
 upon each other, and the sweat of agony was on 
 his brow. Then his fancy would take another 
 turn. There was no other lover, there never 
 would be any other ; by strength of his love she 
 belonged to him here and would be his through 
 all eternity. In heaven there is no marrying nor 
 giving in marriage, so the Bible said ; but surely 
 God would be merciful to him, knowing how he 
 had missed his happiness here. 
 
 This was the dream-palace in which he dwelt, 
 while he gazed vacantly over the sunlit sea and 
 waited to be sewed into his blanket and carried 
 
DREAMS. 127 
 
 across to the white sands by those who, in their 
 turn, one after another, should follow to the same 
 end. 
 
 And then, one morning when August was well 
 on the wane, something happened that broke the 
 spell of deadening despair that held him in its 
 grasp. 
 
CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 NEWS OF LOVE AND WAE. 
 " Hidden perfumes and secret loves betray themselves." 
 
 JOUBERT, 
 
 " TOSCELYN, from my upper window I have 
 
 ^ seen a rider turn into the next street and 
 make for the tavern. Perchance he brings news 
 or letters. Will you come with me and see ? " 
 It was Betty's voice under her window, and 
 Joscelyn put her head out a moment to say she 
 would go ; then ran downstairs. And go she did 
 in spite of her mother's vehement protest. 
 
 " 'Tis scarce three weeks gone since you were 
 reviled in the streets as a Tory, and now you will 
 go thrust yourself in place to receive the same 
 treatment again. 'Tis folly — ay, worse than 
 folly ! " 
 
 ' But Joscelyn scarcely heard, for in the street 
 Betty was pulling her along at such a pace. 
 
 " Methought you would be glad to get a letter 
 from — well, from — It is something over three 
 weeks since you last heard from — "a shy little 
 laugh finished the sentence, and she gave Joscelyn 
 an extra pull which set them into a run. 
 
 " How glad somebody would be to see you in 
 
 128 
 
NEWS OF LOVE AND WAK. 129 
 
 such haste to get a letter written to ine," panted 
 Josceiyn, laughing. 
 
 " Whither away so fast ? " cried Mistress Strud- 
 wick from her door; but they did not stop to 
 answer, only calling back merrily that a man, 
 grown, yet not old, nor crippled, nor blind, had 
 ridden into the square, and they were going to 
 have a look at so wonderful a curiosity. 
 
 As they turned into the open space before the 
 courthouse, the town-bell struck a few resonant 
 notes, a signal from the decrepit old ringer that 
 there was news for somebody. In a few minutes 
 the place was thronged with eager wives and 
 mothers and sweethearts crying out for tidings of 
 their loved ones. Did the man bring any ? "X'es, 
 he was but now out of the north ; whither he went 
 mattered not to them, a man's mission was his 
 own secret, but in his pouch were letters for towns 
 along the route, and he brought, besides, news of 
 the dreadful massacre in Pennsylvania. And 
 when the few letters were distributed he stood 
 upon the steps and told the pitiful story of 
 "Wyoming Yalley. 
 
 " The able-bodied men were away fighting with 
 "Washington ; only the old men and women and 
 children remained. Upon this helpless band hun- 
 dreds of British and Indians, led by Butler, fell, 
 driving them to the fort. Thence the men, shak- 
 ing with age, but not with fear, sallied to the 
 attack, were defeated and captured, and in sight 
 of those within were tortured with every fiendish 
 
130 JOSCELYN CHESHIRE. 
 
 device the savages could invent. Then the fort 
 surrendered, and in spite of Butler's efforts toma- 
 hawk and scalping-knife did their deadly work 
 among the helpless captives. Outraged women, 
 spitted upon rails, saw their tender babes brained 
 against rocks and trees. The yells of the captors 
 were mingled with the cries for mercy and the 
 shrieks of the dying, and night was turned into 
 day by the light of burning villages. In all the 
 beautiful valley not a house was spared j and 
 where had been prosperity is now but a desolate 
 wilderness strewn with graves and ruins." 
 
 When he finished, women were weeping upon 
 each other's necks, thinking of their own little 
 ones and those other murdered babies. And 
 fierce was the denunciation of Butler for enlist- 
 ing in his army savages whose brutality could not 
 be controlled. This was not war; it was assassi- 
 nation, as cowardly as it was cruel. 
 
 So bitter was the feeling aroused, that for a 
 while the fact that the courier had brought some 
 letters was quite overlooked, until Mistress Nash 
 and Janet Cameron came forward with epistles 
 which contained messages for many of those pres- 
 ent. Then it was remembered that the other two 
 letters had both been for Joscelyn Cheshire, and 
 immediately a dozen voices demanded her. But 
 she was already well down the street, her arm 
 linked in Betty Clevering's. 
 
 ''Come away. Aunt Cheshire will be wretched 
 about you," the latter had whispered to her, re- 
 
NEWS OF LOVE AND WAK. 131 
 
 membering the scene in this yery place a few 
 weeks before and dreading a repetition of it, and 
 in her secret heart wishing that at least one of 
 the letters in Joscelyn's hand should not be read 
 aloud to the public, knowing well that in it was 
 some love-message for herself, for was not that 
 why Eustace wrote so often to Joscelyn? And 
 so she dragged her companion back the way they 
 had come; but as they walked Joscelyn tore 
 open the letter with the familiar seal, exclaiming 
 gayly : _ 
 
 "Paper is not scarce with Eustace, since he 
 sends me three whole sheets. Let me see — Betty 
 — Betty — Betty — just in a fleeting glance I see 
 your name some eight times. What a fondness 
 he hath for writing the word ! " 
 
 " Let me read with you, Joscelyn," cried Betty, 
 her cheeks very bright ; and drawing close together 
 the two girls held the sheet between them and 
 slackened their pace. But they were not left long 
 to their privacy, for by the time they reached the 
 Cheshire door a dozen neighbours were upon them. 
 
 " So, so, Joscelyn, be not running away with 
 your tidings. Tell us what Clinton is doing in 
 New York," exclaimed Mistress Strudwick, who 
 had come with the others to give the girl counte- 
 nancCj if so she should need it. 
 
 " Ay, do not be playing the selfish, but give us 
 the news," cried several voices. 
 
 " I am as ignorant as you of General Clinton's 
 doings," the girl said, smiling at the first speaker j 
 
132 JOSCELTN CHESHIRE. 
 
 "for, as far as I have got, the letter is full ol 
 questions about somebody here at home." 
 
 "Yes, a spying letter for information, no doubt," 
 sneered Amanda Bryce. " The courier said they 
 were both from some one in New York. Who 
 writes to you from Clinton's army ? " 
 
 " Eustace Singleton, a handsome lad whom you 
 know right well, Mistress Bryce." 
 
 '• He sends you two letters by the same hand 3 
 Faith ! he is an ardent correspondent." 
 
 " l!^ay, this other letter is in a strange writing. 
 I know not yet who hath sent it." 
 
 " Break the wafer and read it to us." 
 
 " I do not choose, Mistress Bryce, to givs my 
 letters to the public." 
 
 '' Do not choose, because you do not dare.'' 
 
 "Do not dare?" 
 
 " Hush, Joscelyn, she does not mean what she 
 says," put in Mistress Strudwick. 
 
 " Yes, J do mean it, Martha, every word of it. 
 She dare not read it, because it is a spying letter, 
 — asking information; mayhap, which may give us 
 over to a massacre like to that of Wyoming : that's 
 why she dare not." 
 
 A chorus of cries and hisses arose, but the girl 
 an the step did not quail. Her delicate lip curled 
 with scorn. " 'Tis false ' You do all know I 
 would be incapable of such wickedness." 
 
 "Then read us the letter and prove it." 
 
 "I will not." 
 
 She thrust the letter into her bosom and faced 
 
NEWS OF LOVE AND WAR. 133 
 
 them with flashing ejes, the very picture of defi 
 ance. But a touch from Mistress Strudwick 
 quelled the storm within her. Turning swiftly 
 she put her arm around the old woman's neck 
 " There, I am going to be good. I would not dis 
 tress you and mother again for the world. But 
 you know I have the right of it.'' 
 
 " Yes," echoed Janet Cameron, taking her place 
 on the other side of Joscelyn. ''AVe all know 
 that though you are a Torj^, you are no traitor ; 
 and I say. Out upon Mistress Brj'ce for hinting 
 such a thing ! I am a Continental, and my father 
 is in Charleston fightmg for the cause, but X would 
 trust Joscelyn Cheshire to the end of the world ' " 
 
 Out in the crowd the sentiment against the girl 
 instantly changedj and ail hut Amanda Bryce 
 applauded Janet's words. 
 
 "Eustace Singleton writes her naught but 
 love-letters ~ let her keep them!" cried another 
 girl. "Methinks I should not want the world to 
 be reading my sweetheart's letters and counting 
 the kisses he sends me" 
 
 "ISTo, nor those he gives you," said Martha 
 Strudwick, with a merry wink, and instantly there 
 was a great laugh, for the girl had been caught 
 kissing her lover the winter day on which the 
 troops had marched, for which imprudence her 
 mother had soundly boxed her ears. 
 
 "And now," cried Joscelyn, when the laugh 
 had passed, " to prove that there is no treason in 
 this letter, I shall let Betty Clevering — as good 
 
134 JOSCELYN CHESHIRE. 
 
 a Continental as the best of you — sit down yon- 
 der on the bench and read every word of it before 
 I myself have seen it. Here, Betty, be you the 
 judge whether what is herein writ is of treason- 
 able import; and mind you skip nothing, particu- 
 larly the love passages." She laughingly pushed 
 Betty upon the bench, and leaving Eustace's letter 
 in her hands, came back to Janet's side. 
 
 " My letter was from my brother, Joscelyn ; 
 and he said he knew not where Richard had been 
 sent. He himself is in the old Sugar House in 
 New York ; what he suffers he will not say, but 
 we can guess, since so much has been said of the 
 place." 
 
 Joscelyn kissed the tearful face softly. " Per- 
 chance your imagination is over-vivid. It grieves 
 me to the quick that any of our townsfolk should 
 suffer." 
 
 " It will be a great relief to his mother to know 
 that Richard is not in the Sugar House." 
 
 "Yes, there is only one worse prison in the 
 country, and that is for the captured seamen." 
 
 " Do not let us talk of its horrors." 
 
 So the conversation went on until Betty Clever- 
 ing, her face like a budding rose, came forward 
 again. 
 
 "This letter," she said, holding up the missive, 
 " is one of friendship merely ; in it I find abso- 
 lutely nothing against our cause, save a curse on 
 the war that keeps the writer from — from her 
 he loves." 
 
NEWS OF LOVE AND WAR, 135 
 
 " Dear me, to see her blush one would think it 
 were Betty's love-letter, not Joscelyn's." 
 
 " How shy she looks ! " 
 
 " Betty, was it writ so tenderly that you, who 
 are but an outsider, are abashed to read it? 
 Truly, I wish Master Singleton would give les- 
 sons in love writing. My man talks so much of 
 General Washington and his doings^ that he quite 
 forgets to put in the love passages." 
 
 "And 'tis for those that a woman reads her- 
 letters," said Mistress Strudwick. " The ' I love 
 yous ' and ' dears ' and ' kisses ' scattered through 
 the pages mean more to her heart than the an 
 nouncement of a victory. In faith, old woman 
 as I am, I always read the last sentence first, 
 knowing it will be the sweetest, if so the writer 
 is in his senses." 
 
 "That is why I wanted so much to read Jos 
 celyn's letter. I knew Eustace would never plot 
 against his own town any more than she would^ 
 but an ardent love-letter makes good reading, 
 no matter to whom it may be writ," laughed 
 Dorothy Graham, breaking a glowing rose from 
 a nearby bush, and holding it playfully against 
 Betty's cheek, looking archly at her companions 
 as she tapped first one and then the other with 
 her finger, whereupon the laugh again arose, for 
 some had long ago guessed at Eustace's passion. 
 
 Meantime, Joscelyn, drawing somewhat apart, 
 took the strange letter from her dress and broke 
 the wafer. The missive covered but one scant 
 
136 JOSCELYN CHESHIRE, 
 
 page, but those who watched as she read saw 
 her face grow pale and her lip tremble. 
 
 Mistress Joscelyn Cheshire, in Hillsboro'-town : 
 
 Richard Clevering, with ten of his comrades, taken 
 at Monmouth field, lies in one of the prison-ships in 
 Wallabout Bay. If he is aught to you, — you know- 
 best whom he loves, — bestir yoiirself for an exchange, 
 for only that can save him from the sure death that 
 lurks in those accursed hulks. I, one of the guard that 
 carried him there, promised him that you should know, 
 and at the risk of discovery and punishment I thus 
 keep my promise. He is brave and generous. It were 
 a pity to let him die. 
 
 James Colborn. 
 New York, this tentli day of July, 1778. 
 
 Even in the far southern towns the infamy of 
 those prison-ships had been told, and with a sud- 
 den gesture of compassion the girl stretched her 
 arms toward the opposite house. 
 
 " Aunt Clevering, poor Aunt Clevering ! " and 
 thrusting the letter into Mistress Strudwick's 
 hands, she exclaimed : " Here read it — read it 
 aloud, then take it over 3'onder — I cannot." 
 And gathering Betty close in her arms she lis- 
 tened while the letter was read to the sorrow- 
 ing women. 
 
 "Who are the others? Called he no names?" 
 "Oh, mayhap one is my son!" 
 " And another may be my husband ! " ' 
 " Even the Sugar House had been easier than 
 this! Mark you what we have heard of the 
 ferocity of the jailers, the foulness of the food, 
 
NEWS OF LOVE AND WAE. 137 
 
 the loathsomeness of the ships! They will die, 
 our brave lads will all die there ! " 
 
 " Will die ? — Nay, perchance they are already 
 dead ; 'tis a month since this letter was writ, 
 and two months since Monmouth fight." 
 
 And the letter went the rounds of the town, 
 carrying sorrow everywhere and a miserable dread 
 and uncertainty into many homes, for all of the 
 men missing from Monmouth were not yet ac- 
 counted for. Whose dear ones were suffer- 
 ing with Richard, mine or thine, or our neigh- 
 bour's ? 
 
 All the afternoon, Joscelyn paced her floor, 
 her brows knitted, her fingers clenched. She 
 knew best whom he loved? Yes, she knew. 
 Every day for the past year he had let her see 
 his heart; even in their quarrels over the war, 
 he had not forgotten that he loved her. At first 
 she had taken it for a passing fancy, and had 
 treated him with laughing coquetry, fanning his 
 love later on into the white flame of passion with 
 that groundless jealousy of Eustace. Then it 
 was she realized what it was with which she 
 was playing. 
 
 And now he was lying in that loathsome ship, 
 with the fever on one side and the harsh keepers 
 on the other. Did she care as he wanted her to 
 care? No, but her anger against him for his 
 persistent assumption of her acquiescence in his 
 suit was all forgotten ; she remembered only the 
 happy side of their friendship, and that he was 
 
138 JOSCELYN CHESHIRE. 
 
 Betty's brother. She could not put aside the 
 appeal in Colborn's letter, for it was an appeal 
 from Richard himself ; and yet what could she, a 
 mere girl without aid or influence, do to set him 
 free? That was why her hands were clenched 
 and she paced her floor with quick steps. Then 
 at last she sat down, and opening her portfolio 
 she wrote for half an hour, covering sheet after 
 sheet. When they were done she gathered them 
 up quickly and ran downstairs and crossed the 
 street to the opposite house. There all was sad- 
 ness and tears because of Colborn's news. 
 
 "Here, Betty," she said, placing the folded 
 sheets upon the table ; " Eustace Singleton is on 
 Lord Cornwallis's staff and must have influence 
 with him, and through him, with General Clinton. 
 I have written Eustace to use all effort and 
 despatch in Richard's behalf, but you must add a 
 postscript to make the plea effective." 
 
 " And why, I pray you, should he heed a post- 
 script from Betty ? " asked her mother, angrily, 
 forgetful for a moment of her grief. 
 
 " Because," Joscelyn answered, facing her 
 calmly, "he loves her, and the few words she 
 writes will outweigh all my pages." 
 
 " "What ! That Loyalist, the son of Joseph Sin- 
 gleton, our old enemy, in love with my daughter ? 
 This is some mockery." 
 
 " It is the sober truth." 
 
 " I do not believe it ; but if it be so, then will 
 Richard and I have a word to say in the matter. 
 
NEWS OF LOVE AND WAK. 139 
 
 Betty, put down that quill ; I will not have you 
 stoop to ask a favour of that family." 
 
 " Not even for Richard's life and freedom, Aunt 
 Clevering ? " 
 
 " I do not believe he has any influence. In love 
 with my daughter — what impudence ! " 
 
 " Rather what good fortune, since it may save 
 your son." 
 
 " Mother, it seems our one chance ; bid me 
 write." And Joscelyn joined in the girl's plea. 
 
 The older woman's features w^orked spasmodi- 
 cally, but presently she nodded slowl3^ " For 
 Richard's sake, Joscelyn, 3^es; but mind you, 
 Betty will set him out in short order if ever he 
 presumes to declare himself. She knows her 
 duty ; no Singleton blood comes into my family." 
 
 She could not see Betty's face, for Joscelyn 
 stood between them ; but two weeks later Eus- 
 tace kissed the blots where the tears had fallen 
 just under her pleading little postscript : — 
 
 " Because of all you said to me in Joscelyn's par- 
 lour, because of your red roses which I wore in the pri- 
 vacy of my room until they faded, I beseech you, save 
 my brother ! " 
 
 " But oh, Joscelyn, suppose he can do nothing ? " 
 " Then, dear, we must carry our plea to Lord 
 
 Cornwallis. My father and he were friends in 
 
 England ; perhaps we may gain his ear through 
 
 that old-time acquaintance." 
 
 "And how will you reach Cornwallis?" Mis* 
 
 tress Clevering asked doubtfully. 
 
140 JOSCELYN CHESHIRE. 
 
 " If need be, Betty and I will seek him in Gen- 
 eral Clinton's camp." 
 
 Betty put her cheek close to the girl's. " Jos- 
 celyn, after all you are not indifferent to Rich- 
 ard," she whispered, half wistfully, half joyously. 
 
 But Joscelyn's face was almost stern. " This 
 letter from Colborn is in truth a plea from Rich- 
 ard, since he must have bid the man write. Think 
 you I could let such a thing pass unanswered — 
 and from your brother, too ? " 
 
 " God bless you, Joscelyn, though your heart 
 is as hard as flint." 
 
CHAPTER Xy. 
 
 AN AWAKENING AND A MUTINY. 
 
 " I can bear scorpion's stings, tread fields of fire, 
 In frozen gulfs of cold eternal lie ; 
 Be tossed aloft through tracts of endless void — 
 But cannot live in shame." 
 
 — Joanna Baillie. 
 
 "OESIDES the patrol and the ship's long-boat 
 -'-' only one other ever tied up to the prison- 
 vessels, and that one belonged to Dame Grant, 
 the bumboat woman, who brought such small lux- 
 uries as the prisoners were able to purchase. She 
 herself seldom came on board, but sent up her 
 tiny parcels by two boys who made their deliv- 
 eries under the eye of the warden. This was the 
 woman Richard had hoped to bribe to aid his 
 escape, but with whom he had never found the 
 smallest opportunity to speak at close range. She 
 was corpulent and coarse of feature, and the boys 
 who served her often felt the weight of her big 
 hand ; but Richard had once thrown her a jest 
 over the rail, and she had laughed good-naturedly, 
 showing that she had a soft side to her rough 
 exterior. In the lining of his ragged boot were 
 the few coins Colborn had given him, but not so 
 much as a letter had he been able to bribe her to 
 take. Often he cursed the watchfulness of the 
 
 141 
 
142 JOSCELYN CHESHIRE. 
 
 sentinel, longing to send at least some little mes- 
 sage to those who thought of him in far-off Hills- 
 boro'-town. 
 
 The morning of his awakening from the despair- 
 ing stupor in which nearly two months had been 
 passed, it so chanced that Dame Grant brought in 
 her boat a basket of pears. Yery luscious they 
 looked, for sun and dew had kissed them lavishly ; 
 but only the guards could pay their price, so the 
 prisoners feasted with their eyes only. By and 
 by, however, one of the sentinels who had pur- 
 chased some of the fruit went to attend to some 
 duty below, and left one of the pears on the rail 
 of the deck. So transparent was his action and 
 so subtle the temptation, that it almost seemed he 
 had set a delicate trap for some unwary captive. 
 If, indeed, it was a trap, it caught its prey ; for 
 one of the prisoners, a poor old man, starving, yet 
 too ill to eat the mouldy biscuit and rancid meat 
 that was their daily portion, saw the tempting 
 fruit and stole it, hoping the owner would think 
 it had rolled off into the water with the rocking 
 of the ship. But nothing escaped the argus-eyed 
 watch ; one of the other sentinels saw him as he 
 ravenously devoured it, and collaring the trem- 
 bling culprit carried him to the warden. He 
 acknowledged the theft, excusing himself on the 
 plea of extreme hunger, and begged for mercy. 
 He might as well have asked for the sun, whose 
 rays whitened the deck and shimmered on the 
 restless waves. 
 
AN AWAKENING AND A MUTINY. 143 
 
 "I will make an example of him that we may 
 have no more thieving on this ship. Order the 
 prisoners out that they may see," commanded the 
 warden, a big-thewed fellow with the face of a 
 bulldog. 
 
 The culprit, whose age alone should have pro- 
 tected him, was stripped to the waist and dragged 
 to the middle of the deck, where he stood weak, 
 scarred, emaciated, — as pitiful an object as the 
 sun ever shone upon. In a wide circle about him 
 were crowded the unwilling prisoners, their faces 
 scowling with a helpless rage ; and behind these 
 were posted the guards with levelled guns. While 
 the warden knotted his lash, Peter and Eichard, 
 after a whispered consultation with those nearest 
 to them, stepped forward and touched their caps. 
 
 "If you please," said Peter, acting as spokes- 
 man, " we will all of us give something toward 
 the price of the fruit, if you will spare this man." 
 
 The warden wheeled suddenly upon them and 
 struck out with his whip, barely missing Peter's 
 head. " Back with you, an you want not the lash 
 upon your own backs, hounds that you are ! The 
 first man of you who stirs again shall have his 
 share of this pastime." The ferocity of his look 
 and voice quelled any further attempt at concilia- 
 tion, and the prisoners turned their faces sullenly 
 away. 
 
 "So it's delicacies your stomach craves, is it?" 
 sneered the warden to the trembling man before 
 him. "Well, does that taste like pears — or that 
 
144 JOSCELYN CHESHIRE. 
 
 — or that ? " and the cruelly knotted lash swirled 
 through the air, and fell again and again upon 
 the quivering flesh of the helpless creature. The 
 man staggered, screamed, reeled from place to 
 place, and finally fell. A harsh laugh answered 
 his cries for mercy, and the lash went on until 
 the blood spurted from the livid welts upon his 
 body, while his groans were horrible to hear ; and 
 the prisoners groaned in answer. But the war- 
 den's fury was aroused, and the blows fell until 
 insensibility mercifully carae, and the man lay 
 still in a pool of his own blood. 
 
 " So shall it fare with every thief among you ! " 
 cried the warden, throwing the whip down and 
 facino; around the scowling circle. But he saw 
 there no intimidation, but a wrath that needed 
 but a touch to burst into a storm, and he was 
 quick to take the warning. 
 
 " Dismiss the prisoners below," he thundered to 
 the guards, and went swiftly to his own cabin. 
 
 As Richard watched the cruel scene, something 
 had stirred and then suddenly snapped within 
 him ; the inert, despairing stupor was gone, and 
 in its place was a wild desire for action. Every 
 nerve within him quivered with a savage impulse 
 to give the brutal warden blow for blow — nay, 
 two for one ; that was what he wanted to do. 
 His fingers closed in a fierce grip, and only Peter s 
 firm hand held him in his place. 
 
 "The guards would riddle you with bullets 
 before you could get to him," the latter whis- 
 
AN AWAKENIXG AND A MUTINY. 145 
 
 pered, under cover of that other terrible noise 
 of the floo^ffino^. 
 
 " I have but once to die. Unhand me ! " 
 
 " Yes, but death here would be wasted. "Wait." 
 
 From that hour Richard was a changed man ; 
 
 the dulness of despondency was gone, and in its 
 
 place there had come a recklessness, a demon of 
 
 desperation, that nothing could still. 
 
 " I shall not stay quietly here to be flogged or 
 to rot with the fever and starvation," he said to 
 Peter, and his jaw was hard and square. " I shall 
 get away or I shall die in the attempt." 
 
 Two days later the flogged man was sewed into 
 his blanket and carried away in the funeral-boat ; 
 and the malcontent of the prisoners broke out in 
 angry mutterings. Here Richard, who had been 
 brooding over a plan of escape, believed he saw 
 his chance. By night his plan was laid ; and 
 when the hatches were beaten down and they lay 
 in serried rows in the stinking hold, he went from 
 man to man and told his scheme. It was to be a 
 mutiny, a direct revolt. At a given signal they 
 were to rise in a body, fall upon the guards, over- 
 power them — kill them — and then pulling up 
 the anchor they were to run the ship to the open 
 sea, beach her somewhere on the Jersey coast if 
 she gave signs of leaking, and take their chance 
 to hide along the shore until the}?" could get away 
 into the interior. Richard was to head them, for 
 in his voice and manner the men recognized the 
 spirit of a leader. He longed with something 
 
146 JOSCELYN CHESHIRE. 
 
 akin to ferocity to strike the first blow at the 
 warden. 
 
 " And besides," he said, " since I have proposed 
 the plan it is but meet that I should assume the 
 first risk. If I fall, Peter will take ray place. 
 Jack Bangs here has been on the sea all his life, 
 and knows the coast hereabouts as we know our 
 farms at home. What say you to giving him 
 charge of the ship and letting him choose his 
 own sailing crew ? " 
 
 " Good ; he is the man for the place." 
 
 " Very well," said Bangs ; " but we cannot go 
 down the Jersey coast, for we would have to pass 
 too many posts of the enemy, besides the guns 
 in the New York harbour. "We must steer east 
 through the sound, and if the ship is beached, it 
 must be on the Connecticut or Rhode Island coast." 
 
 " Very well ; that is not so convenient, since it 
 takes us far from our army, but anywhere will be 
 better than here." 
 
 They counted every risk : the difficult}'^ of dis- 
 arming the guards, the proximity of the other 
 two prison-ships, the interference of the shore 
 patrol in their swift-sailing boat, the disabled and 
 sailless condition of their own vessel ; but nothing 
 turned them from their purpose. Every detail 
 of the plot was arranged when toward morning 
 the men lay down for a little rest and sleep. 
 
 All the morning Richard scrubbed or cleaned as 
 the guards bade, and then sat on deck with his 
 eyes alternately upon the sun and the ship. 
 
AN AWAKENING AND A MUTINY. 147 
 
 But toward the middle of the afternoon Rich- 
 ard noticed signs of dissatisfaction among a few 
 of the men near the stern, where there was an 
 improvised back-gammon board. They were evi- 
 dently angry about something. A quarrel at this 
 spot was a daily occurrence, and occasioned no 
 surprise among the sentinels ; but Richard guessed 
 that some other cause was at the bottom of this, 
 and gradually made his way to Peter's side. 
 
 " 'Tis Henry Crane," Peter whispered, and his 
 close-shut fists showed an emotion his face con- 
 cealed. " He is jealous that the ship was given to 
 Bangs rather than to him, and he and some of his 
 fellows — his old crew — are threatening: mischief." 
 
 " Fool, to risk his neck and liberty for a dam- 
 nable vanity ! " Rising, Richard crossed to the 
 group of players, and sinking down upon the deck 
 gathered the dice into his hand as though to take 
 part in the sport. 
 
 " I play to win ; and the man who fouls my 
 game — for any cause whatsoever — has me to 
 answer to," he said with stern emphasis, his fear- 
 less eyes fixed steadily on Crane's face. The man 
 flushed and began to mumble an answer, but the 
 guard, passing, said sharply : — 
 
 " Since you cannot play without a row, break 
 up the game." 
 
 The players got up slowly. " You under- 
 stand?" Richard said under his breath, and 
 Crane nodded surlily. 
 
 The afternoon wore on and all remained quiet. 
 
148 JOSCELYN CHESHIRE. 
 
 Crane had evidently thought better of his foolish 
 jealously. It was growing late, and there was 
 going to be a high wind, and that was well, for it 
 would set the tide yet stronger in its outward 
 sweep, and their flight would be all the swifter. 
 
 It lacked only a little while before the drum- 
 tap. Richard got up and stood with his face to 
 the glowing west to take his last farewell of the 
 dream-girl with whom he kept his tr^'st each even- 
 ing at this hour. 
 
 " Good-b}^, sweetheart," he said in his inner 
 consciousness. " I love you. On your dear eyes 
 I kiss you — so — " 
 
 " Attention ! First division carry down their 
 bedding ! " 
 
 He wheeled ; for he was in that first division. 
 A quick glance about the deck showed everything 
 quiet as usual. Crane and a few others stood at 
 the far end of the deck awaiting their order to go 
 down with the rest of the beddins;. This would 
 take only ten minutes, then the drum-tap for the 
 roll-call and — death or liberty. 
 
 Swiftly the first division seized their allotment 
 of the bedding and passed below. Knowing what 
 was to follow, they did not lose a moment ; but, 
 quick as they were, something happened up above. 
 There was a sound as of a struggle, a fierce cry, 
 the report of a musket, all so close together as to 
 seem almost blended into one sound ; and then 
 the ship writhed and quivered with the reverbera- 
 tion of the cannon on the upper end of the deck.' 
 
". . . THE PKISUNEKS LINED UP AND ANSWERLU lO THEIK NAMKS." 
 
AN AWAKENING AND A MUTINY. 149 
 
 Richard sprang to the ladder, but thrust only his 
 head above deck wlien an order to halt, accom- 
 panied by a touch of steel to his temple, brought 
 him up with a pull. But a look showed him what 
 had happened. Crane and three others lay mo- 
 tionless upon the deck, and the other two men 
 who had stood with them were covered by the 
 muskets of the guards, while the warden leaned 
 against the cannon ready to sweep the deck with 
 another shot should so much as a hand be lifted 
 without his orders. He was absolute master of 
 the situation. A signal was run up to the patrol 
 boat, the two mutineers were bound and hurried 
 away ; then the drum tapped for roll-call. But 
 no one made any show of revolt. "With the 
 guards aroused, the patrol alarmed, and that mur- 
 derous cannon ready to rake the deck, it had been 
 the act of madmen to resist ; so, scowlingly and 
 surlily the prisoners lined up and answered to 
 their names, and then marched below, their plans 
 all gone wrong. Richard threw himself down 
 and sobbed like a child. The plot had failed 
 through the malice of one man. Crane, thinking 
 everything was ready, and that the men would 
 all respond to the signal, gave it while Richard 
 was below, thinking thus to snatch the leadership 
 and gain control of the whole vessel. But the 
 other men, watching only for Richard's signal, 
 did not comprehend or respond to this unexpected 
 whistle, only the five who stood immediately with 
 Crane falling in with his plan. But even they 
 
150 JOSCELTN CHESHIRE. 
 
 were not quick enough, for the sentinel upon 
 whom they leaped had time to cry out the alarm 
 and discharge his gun, while the warden sprang 
 to the ever-ready cannon. 
 
 Although the prisoners felt the warden's anger 
 in many petty ways, no other arrests were made ; 
 for the two captives took their punishment heroi- 
 cally and told no tales, and inquiry of course failed 
 to elicit any information from the rest of the 
 prisoners. 
 
 "I cannot stay here — I will not!" Eichard 
 cried vehemently to Peter. "I am going, and 
 soon at that." 
 
 " What is it you propose to do ? " 
 
 " I do not yet know, but I am going, or they 
 shall kill me with a rifle-ball instead of by slow 
 starvation," he said doggedly. 
 
 Then one night a month later, as they lay gasp- 
 ing for air in the black hold, he unfolded a plan 
 that made Peter's heart sick with dread and un- 
 certainty. 
 
CHAPTEK XYI. 
 
 INTO THE JAWS OF DEATH. 
 
 " Let terror strike slaves mute ; 
 Much danger makes great hearts most resolute." 
 
 — Marston. 
 
 " Death, when unmasked, shows us a friendly face." 
 
 — Goldsmith. 
 
 " "p EBELS, turn out your dead ! " 
 
 •^^ The inhuman call came down the opened 
 hatches, and the prisoners, stupid with the foul 
 air they had breathed all night, prepared to obey. 
 So many times they had heard the cry that they 
 had grown callous to its coarse brutality. 
 
 It was the end of September, and the delayed 
 equinoctial storm would soon ravage the coast. 
 For a week the sea-faring folk had been expecting 
 it ; and now at last the great gale or the forerunner 
 of it was upon them, for all night the waves had 
 been rolling in from the outside with the sound of 
 thunder. The ship had pitched and tossed and 
 strained at its moorings, while the living freight 
 in its hold prayed that it might break away 
 entirely. The hatches, when lifted, showed no 
 blue sky, but gray clouds and scurrying mist 
 wreaths. The men, coming up out of the hot 
 and fetid air, shivered a little in the stiff breeze 
 
 151 
 
152 JOSCELYN CHESHIRE. 
 
 on the deck, then opening their mouths, drank it 
 in like wine. The faces of the landsmen had an 
 added ghastliness from seasickness, but they were 
 all bad enough to look upon, — seamen and soldiers 
 alike. In squads of six they took their breakfast, 
 eating by sheer force of resolution what they 
 loathed, that the hunger pains might not gnaw so 
 hard. 
 
 " How many dead this morning ? " demanded 
 the warden. 
 
 "Two, — Drake and Cowles," answered Jack 
 Bangs. 
 
 " Nay, there are three. Master Warden," said 
 Peter RuflBn, sadly ; " I found Richard Clevering 
 lying stiff and stark beside me when I got up. 
 The bodies are there beside the capstan." 
 
 The three were stretched upon the deck; the 
 corner of Richard's blanket, as if by accident, fell 
 over the upper part of his face, but the mouth 
 below was blue and drawn. With an exclamation 
 of surprise and sorrow Jack Bangs crossed the 
 deck and, lifting the blanket for a moment, looked 
 at the face beneath. Then, reverently replacing 
 it, he made the sign of the cross above the body, 
 and speaking a few low words to Peter, went 
 away. The warden, who had watched the scene 
 satirically, gave each corpse a shove with his foot, 
 cursing the while. 
 
 "D — n 'em! had to die the worst day of the 
 month, that the burial might be the more trouble- 
 some ! " He glanced at them again, gave each 
 
INTO THE JAWS OF DEATH. 153 
 
 another kick, and checked off their names in his 
 book. " Here, fix these hounds up, and cut your 
 work short so they'll be in the ground before the 
 storm breaks." 
 
 " If you please, may I go in the boat this morn- 
 ing ? Clevering was from my town, and I should 
 like to pay him this last respect." 
 
 "No." 
 
 Peter knew better than to urge his plea, and 
 so stepped quietly aside. But the warden, notic- 
 ing the slow motions of one of the men to whom 
 he had beckoned, shouted angrily, " Out of the 
 way there, you infernal snail, or I'll fix you so 
 you'll go in the boat and stay ! " 
 
 Peter sprang into the man's place. " I will be 
 very quick," he said, touching his cap ; and without 
 another word wrapped one of the bodies quickly 
 in its coarse covering and took a few stitches with 
 the needle his comrade held out. He was so deft, 
 and the lightning was so vivid, that the warden 
 grunted and let him go on. Under other circum- 
 stances he w^ould have been put in irons for 
 insubordination. 
 
 The stitches in Richard's blanket were few and 
 slight, just enough to hold it about the body. 
 
 " What was the matter with that fellow ? I 
 never heard him say he was sick," said one of 
 the sentinels, stopping to look on. 
 
 Peter's pulse stood still. " He has complained 
 for some time of a pain about the heart. All last 
 night he tossed and rolled, and just before the 
 
154 JOSCELTN CHESHIRE. 
 
 hatches were opened, he said to me that his time 
 had come. He's hardly cold yet," he added hastily, 
 as the man bent as though to touch a hand left 
 exposed by a rent in the blanket. 
 
 " Well, he'll have time enough to get cold in 
 the ground," the warden said, coming up behind, 
 and mistaking Peter's words for a plea for more 
 time before the burial. 
 
 "He was a sullen chap to whom I've been 
 looking for trouble. I'll warrant he gets not 
 cold between this and the devil," the guard 
 said, giving the stiff body a parting kick. 
 
 The waves tossed furiously, but the long-boat 
 was launched, and two of the guard took their 
 places in it, while the man who was to assist 
 Peter at the graves followed to receive the 
 bodies; for the sentinels never touched them, 
 partly through fear of contagion, and partly out 
 of contempt. The first two were finally lowered, 
 and then came the moment Peter had dreaded ; 
 those other two had been stiff and stark enough, 
 but he wanted no prying eyes looking on when 
 he lifted this one, and so before he bent over to 
 Richard, he glanced down the deck and raised 
 his hand, quite casually, it seemed, to his face. 
 Instantly, as though he had been on the watch 
 for a signal, Jack Bangs started a funeral hymn, 
 loud and wailing. 
 
 " Stop that devilish howling ! " roared the 
 warden, wheehng around. 
 
 Quick as a flash Peter, signing to his assistant, 
 
INTO THE JAWS OF DEATH. 155 
 
 lifted the prostrate figure at his feet and swung it 
 over the side. The ropes grated on the rail, and 
 when the warden looked again, it was all over. 
 Peter slid instantly down one of the ropes, and 
 he and his fellow grave-digger untied the cords 
 from the body and rolled it over beside the other 
 two in the bottom of the boat, the guards hav- 
 ing their hands full to keep the little craft from 
 swamping in the waves. Then they cast off and 
 pulled for the shore. 
 
 " What makes you look at that carrion so con- 
 foundedly straight and scared," one of the soldiers 
 asked Peter, sharply, noticing how often his eyes 
 went to the figure at his feet. 
 
 Peter cursed himself inwardly, but he had been 
 so afraid that the blanket would rise and fall with 
 a strong man's involuntary breathing that he had 
 watched it in a sort of fascination. Now he looked 
 away, answering slowly : — 
 
 " I have known him since he was a baby ; he 
 used to play with my little boy that died, and so 
 I keep thinking of those days." 
 
 One of the men laughed scoutingly, but the 
 other growled out, " Let the fool have his fling, 
 and give me a light, Carson ; my pipe's gone out 
 in this cursed spray." And while their heads were 
 close together, Peter stretched his legs out over 
 the body, that if so it lost for a moment it rigidity, 
 they might not see. 
 
 It seemed to him an hour before the shore was 
 reached and the landing effected ; then he and his 
 
156 JOSCELTN CHESHIRE. 
 
 assistant carried the bodies high up on the sand. 
 Richard's went first. 
 
 " He is alive," Peter whispered, as they moved 
 up the beach, " but if you give the faintest hint of 
 it here or on shipboard by word, act, or look, I'll 
 throttle you like a viper." 
 
 " You need not threaten — I'm no peacher ; and 
 besides, I liked the lad, and wish him well ; but 
 his chance is slim, and if he is taken, they will 
 torture him like the incarnate fiends." 
 
 An officer from the patrol, strolling near the 
 boat, called out : — 
 
 " How many to-day, Carson ? " 
 
 " Three." 
 
 "That is an unusual haul; you are thinning 
 them out fast." 
 
 " Not half fast enough ; looks as if the cursed 
 dogs held on to life to spite us." 
 
 " Well, 'tis said that Howe will bring back 
 plenty of recruits from the French fleet to fill 
 your gaps." 
 
 " How is that ? What is the news ? " 
 
 But Peter was listening eagerly, hoping to 
 catch some bit of outside information. The offi- 
 cer pointed to him with elevated eyebrows, and 
 the guard drove him with imprecations to his task. 
 
 "Your shovel? — Well, there it is, you son of 
 perdition ! Go on, and mind you be quick in hid- 
 ing that carrion from the crows." 
 
 Beside the boat, with guns cocked and ready, 
 the three men then talked over the war tidings, 
 
INTO THE JAWS OF DEATH. 157 
 
 while thirty yards up the beach the two grave- 
 diggers fell to their task. Rapidly the two first 
 graves were made and the occupants laid therein 
 with only a muttered prayer from Peter ; and so 
 were closed two human chapters in the varying 
 story of life. The wind shrieked in from the sea, 
 edged with foam or stinging sand caught up at 
 the water's edge, and the heavens were like a vast 
 slaty canopy torn now and then by jagged light- 
 ning flashes. The scene was a fit setting for the 
 mournful work in hand. Once or twice while the 
 two laboured, one of the guards walked over to 
 look at them, and then wandered back to the boat 
 and his companions. 
 
 Over the first two graves the sand was heaped 
 high, forming, as far as possible, a barrier for the 
 third. Shallow that third grave was, — so shallow 
 that a man could scarce lie therein and be con- 
 cealed ; but so it must be that the sand might not 
 be too heavy on the body, and yet seem to be 
 piled up. Tenderly Peter lifted that last silent 
 figure and stretched it in the hollow made for it ; 
 then, while he still stooped, he broke the frail 
 stitches of the blanket, and snatching two pieces 
 of driftwood he put them crosswise over the head 
 of the grave with their ends on the edges. The 
 hollow space below might contain enough air to 
 last a man a little while. 
 
 " Stay, here is piece of hollow cane in the sand," 
 said the assistant, " keep one end of it over your 
 mouth, Richard ; we will leave the other just out 
 
158 J08CELYN CHESHIRE. 
 
 of the sand ; in this way you can breathe longer. 
 — So." 
 
 " Quick, quick ; the shovels ! The guard is re- 
 turning," cried Peter. 
 
 It seemed to them that their shovels crawled, 
 and yet they worked like mad. If the guard got 
 there before they finished, all was lost. Spadeful 
 after spadeful, — was ever a man so hard to cover ? 
 Another step and the sentinel would be upon 
 them, and the blanket scarcely hidden, and those 
 tell-tale boards and the cane yet in sight. It was 
 a fearful moment. Peter's heart stood still, and 
 his comrade's hands were like ice. 
 
 " What the devil are you so long about ? " 
 
 But it was only the angry voice that reached 
 them ; a blinding lightning flash ripped the heavens 
 wide open, and the wind with a demoniacal shriek 
 rushed down the beach, throwing the sand in a 
 swirling cloud about the on-coming man, making 
 him stagger with its force and snatching away his 
 hat and rain coat. Half blinded, he raced down 
 the sloping stretch to regain his garments which 
 more than once eluded him. Then in the lull he 
 came back swearing furiously ; and finding the 
 men leaning on their shovels, he stuck his bayonet 
 into each of the three mounds. Into the third it 
 penetrated only a little way ; but he did not notice, 
 for the wind was again gathering itself for a fresh 
 burst of fury. 
 
 "Now then, get you to the boats!" he cried, 
 standing behind them. 
 
INTO THE JAWS OF DEATH. 159 
 
 Peter paused a moment and crossed himself rev- 
 erently, saying in a loud voice, " Your bodies to 
 the earth, your souls to God's care ; and may you 
 pass to liberty in the folds of the in-rolling fog." 
 
 " Pass to hell and the devil ! Get on, I say ! " 
 cried the guard, angrily, as he struck Peter across 
 the shoulders with his bayonet. And Peter, hav- 
 ing said his say, ran nimbly to the boat ; and push- 
 ing it off, they leaped in, and were soon toiling amid 
 the breakers to reach the ship's side. 
 
 It seemed to Pichard that long months passed 
 while he lay motionless under that weight of sand, 
 breathing spasmodically through the bit of reed. 
 The drift-boards kept the pressure partially from 
 his chest so that he suffered very little. The 
 guard's bayonet had grazed his leg without pierc- 
 ing it, but the thirst in his throat was something 
 terrible. Peter's voice had penetrated through 
 the boards and their thin covering of sand, so that 
 lie knew the fog was following the wind from the 
 sea. It was for this he had hoped, and it was 
 this Peter meant to tell him in those last words. 
 Dear old Peter ; how he had tried to dissuade him 
 from this mad plan, and when that was impossible, 
 how he had risked his own safety to aid him. 
 Richard felt the tears on his face as he recalled his 
 friend's unselfish offices. Several times during 
 the wait for a stormy day he had been on the 
 point of giving up the whole plan, lest it work a 
 mischief for Peter; but the latter had said it 
 would mean only a day in irons for him, and that 
 
160 JOSCELTN CHESHIRE. 
 
 he was willing to risk that much for his friend's 
 liberty ; it was for Richard himself that he feared. 
 But even death had a smiling face for Richard, 
 compared to a winter spent in the vile ship ; and 
 so the plan had gone on, and by Peter's care he 
 was lying here in his grave, accounted of the 
 world as dead. 
 
 By and by his limbs began to cramp and ache. 
 Through strong will power he had kept them 
 rigid during those terrible moments of examina- 
 tion and removal from the ship. He would not 
 have dared assay the plan had he not known how 
 superficial, through repetition, had become the 
 warden's inspection of the corpses — just a few 
 questions and that savage kick. Each time there 
 had been a death during the past fortnight, he had 
 studied the details of the preparation and burial, 
 until he was convinced that he could carry his 
 scheme to a successful close if only Peter was 
 allowed to be one of his sextons. 
 
 As the minutes now passed, the ache in his 
 limbs increased, for the pressure of the sand was 
 stopping the circulation. Then the dryness in his 
 throat grew and grew, until he could bear it no 
 longer. Had he lain there a year, or only a day ? 
 Slowly and cautiously he drew his hands up to his 
 breast, then higher, and finally placed the palmf 
 against the board over his head. The first move- 
 ment brought the sand in a shower upon his shoul» 
 ders ; but after a while he worked it far enough 
 back to leave a crack between it and its fellow. 
 
INTO THE JAWS OF DEATH 161 
 
 This he could only feel, for knowing the sand 
 would strangle and blind him, he had not as yet 
 taken the blanket from his face, since moving it 
 ever so little to receive the reed into his mouth. 
 Next, he slowly pushed the other board down- 
 ward until a rush of cold air told him he was 
 once more in the world of humanity, not forever 
 sealed in the haunt of ghouls. Cautiously he 
 shoved the blanket from his face and looked up 
 into the storm-hung heavens. It was mid-after- 
 noon, and he had thought it must be midnight. 
 Eagerly he drew in the air, cool and laden with 
 moisture, and tried to forget his aching limbs. 
 He dared not stir yet lest the patrol should see 
 him. He must w^ait; and while he waited, how 
 the moments lagged ! 
 
 The wind had fallen, but the waves still thun- 
 dered on the shore, and the lightning now and 
 then raced along the clouds. Afraid to raise his 
 head, he could only lie still and stare straight 
 above him into the square of mist and clouds. 
 "With a great throb of joy he watched the gloom 
 deepen. He had not heard the sunset gun from 
 the station down the beach, but the fog would 
 befriend him ; so when he could no longer bear 
 the straitened position, he lifted his head and 
 shoulders and looked around. The fog was every- 
 where ; scarcely could he see the tumultuous waves 
 that shattered themselves along the sand. He 
 need wait no longer, no one could see him now ; 
 and painfully and carefully he finally drew his 
 
162 JOSCELYN CHESHIRE. 
 
 stiff limbs from under the sand. To stand at full 
 length was not to be thought of, but he rolled 
 over and rubbed and stretched himself until the 
 cramp was relieved. Then he set himself to fill 
 in and round up his vacated grave; for Peter's 
 sake he must do this, that no suspicion might be 
 aroused when the funeral boat brought its next 
 cargo ashore. Swiftly he worked, using a piece 
 of the drift-board for a shovel, and crawling from 
 head to foot to be sure that all was right. His 
 heart was full of gratitude when at last it was 
 finished, and, with a sigh of relief, he threw the 
 board aside and stood up straight, — a free man. 
 
 But at this moment something came out of the 
 fog from the shore side, and as he steadied him- 
 self upon his feet, he found himself face to face 
 with a man. 
 
CHAPTER XYIL 
 
 OUT OF THE SHADOW AND INTO THE SUN. 
 
 " O God, it is a fearful thing 
 To see the human soul take wing 
 In any shape, in any mood." 
 
 — Byron. 
 
 TT^OIl one awful minute neither man moved ; 
 -^ then the patrol, with the horror in his face 
 as of one who looks upon a thing of another 
 world, gave a hoarse scream which was swallowed 
 up in the roar of the sea. Richard did not know 
 what an uncanny sight he made rising up from 
 that grave with his hair unkempt, his face like 
 ashes, and a burial cloth still bound about his 
 jaws. He comprehended only that detection 
 threatened, and detection meant death. With 
 one bound he cleared the grave between them, 
 and grappled with the guard. Under other cir- 
 cumstances he would have been no match for the 
 man, starved and weak as he was ; but desperation 
 — that fierce, mad desire to live — gave him 
 strength. It was not so much he as that aroused 
 demon within him that gave back the patrol's 
 blows, struck the gun from his hands, and finally 
 gripped him about the throat. Not a word 
 was said, not a cry was uttered, as they tossed 
 
 163 
 
164 JOSCELYN CHESHIRE. 
 
 and swayed backward and forward, to the right 
 or left, sank on one knee and rose again to stagger 
 and struggle anew. If Richard could keep that 
 strangling hold, the fight was his, and with it the 
 liberty for which he longed ; if the other man 
 could break it, then life would pay the forfeit. 
 Doggedly he hung on, though his fingers strained 
 and his head reeled, while the other beat him 
 about the body and shoulders with blows that 
 began to lose their force, for that iron grip upon 
 his windpipe was telling at last. Richard was 
 literally choking the life out of him. Backward 
 he went — backward — until the muscles in his 
 chest swelled, and the joints of his back and 
 shoulders cracked — still backward, with every- 
 thing dark before him. Then suddenl}^ his knees 
 collapsed, and he went down to the sand in a 
 shapeless huddle. But even tlien Richard did not 
 let go his hold ; deeper, and yet deeper his fingers 
 sank into the flesh under them, until not a quiver 
 was left in the insensible limbs. Then finally he 
 stood up and looked upon his work. 
 
 God ! he had committed murder. 
 
 For a long minute he stood there, trembling, 
 horror-stricken ; then the self within him cried 
 out, and he roused up to thought and action. 
 That dead body would tell its own disastrous tale 
 when the relief watch came ; should he bury it 
 here in his own grave ? Yes, that cheated sepul- 
 chre should have its inmate ; and he reached for 
 the board. But no ; there would not be time ; it 
 
Hi 
 
 "For a long minute he stood there, trembling, horror- 
 
 stricken. 
 
OUT OF THE SHADOW AND INTO THE SUN. 165 
 
 would take hours to hide it, trembling and weak 
 as he was, something else must be done, some- 
 thing quick. Should he run for the dunes and 
 leave it where it lay ? If found thus, search 
 would be made for the slayer; he would be setting 
 the watch upon his own track. He pressed his 
 hands helplessly to his temples, staring mean- 
 while upon the horror there at his feet. Then 
 suddenly the explanation came : the man's beat 
 ended on a rock that dropped sharply into the 
 water; he knew, for he had noticed when he 
 came ashore before with the funeral boat. If he 
 could throw the body down there, it would be 
 thought the man had walked off in the foor and 
 gloom ; no suspicion would be aroused, and he 
 would be free from pursuit. 
 
 Shivering at the contact, he seized the body 
 and dragged it along over the shells and pebbles. 
 Once or twice he lost his bearings in the short 
 journey, but a rising wind blew out trailing 
 lengths of fog before him and, aided thus, in a 
 little while he reached his goal. But he could 
 not see the body enter the water ; it would be like 
 a second murder, and so with eyes close shut he 
 pushed it off and groaned in his soul to hear the 
 splash that came from below. 
 
 " God bear witness that I did not want his 
 blood upon my hands ! " 
 
 Then he looked away to the dunes and took 
 one step toward them. But the gun — it lay 
 yonder by the graves ; he might as well have left 
 
166 JOSCELYN CHESHIRE. 
 
 the body itself there. Hastily he returned, 
 smoothed over the sand where the struggle had 
 fallen, and seizing the man's gun and hat, he sped 
 again to the rock, placing them near the ledge, 
 that they might seem to have been dropped there 
 in an attempt at self-preservation. Then he was 
 free to go. Into the fog he plunged, making for 
 where the sand-dunes rose; and as he tottered 
 down into the underbrush beyond, he heard the 
 sunset gun from the station boom out through the 
 mist. He had lived a whole lifetime in the last 
 half hour. 
 
 It had been his plan to cross the island and seek 
 some means of escaping to the Jersey coast from 
 the south-side villages, but the fog hid everything, 
 and he seemed walking in a circle. He was weak 
 from excitement and lack of food, and after stum- 
 bling blindly onward for a while, he turned to the 
 left and kept on a parallel with the coast, the boom 
 of the surf being his guide ; but always he kept the 
 sound far enough away to avoid the sentinels from 
 the patrol. The fog had turned into a rain, cold 
 and depressing, and so after walking an hour or 
 two he was willing to risk something of danger 
 for food and rest. He had passed several houses 
 but had kept aloof through fear ; now, however, 
 he bent his steps to a tiny light burning ahead. 
 
 It was a fisherman's cottage close to an inlet 
 that jutted in from the bay, and as good fortune 
 would have it the old man, detained by the storm, 
 was just getting home. Even in the little harbour 
 
OUT OF THE SHADOW AND INTO THE SUN. 167 
 
 the swell was unusually strong, and the man was 
 having much difficulty in beaching his boat, so 
 that Eichard's aid was most timely. 
 
 " Who are you, my friend ? " the fisherman 
 asked, when everything was snug and taut. 
 
 " A traveller who has lost his way." 
 
 The old fellow squinted his eyes for a closer 
 look. " A traveller ? Well, 'tis enough ; we never 
 ask names, my old woman and I, for in such days 
 as these a man's name is ofttimes his most secret 
 possession. We know not the rights of this war, 
 and so we take no sides, but pray that justice may 
 conquer. Now, how can I pay you for your 
 help?" 
 
 " By giving me food and shelter." 
 
 " That will I, for without you I should have 
 lost my whole day's take and that had been a ter- 
 rible mishap. Fry an extra fish, mother," he 
 called into the cottage. 
 
 " Ay, two of them, good mother, I pray you ; 
 for I am as a ravening wolf seeking what I may 
 devour," Eichard said, putting his head in at 
 the door ; and his voice was so bonny that the old 
 woman filled the skillet with a lavish hand. And 
 in that firelit hut he ate the first palatable meal 
 he had had since Monmouth day. Then he set 
 himself artfully to persuade the fisherman to take 
 him down the Sound in his boat. 
 
 " Nay, I never go now, the journey is too much 
 for me ; and besides I must go to-morrow to the 
 camp to sell my fish. But the soldiers go and 
 
168 JOSCELYN CHESHIRE. 
 
 come between here and New York every day ; if 
 you will come with me to the camp, I will get you 
 company." 
 
 But Richard evaded the invitation. After a 
 while the old woman said: "There is Dame Grant 
 who lives just over the inlet, she goes down the 
 Sound day after to-morrow to see her people, — 
 she hath recently heard that her niece hath a new 
 baby (a fine girl w^eighing ten pounds in its skin 
 and to be named for the dame), mayhap you 
 could find passage with her." 
 
 But again Richard shook his head, shudder- 
 ing inwardly at the thought that the old woman 
 might recognize him and be tempted by the stand- 
 ing reward for escaped prisoners to give him 
 again into captivity. He would find some other 
 way, he said, and talked of the fishing in the 
 Sound. When the old man's pipe was smoked 
 out they w^ent to bed, and in spite of that haunt- 
 ing scene beside the wind-swept graves, Richard 
 slept profoundly through the night hours. Wak- 
 ing before the old couple in the gray morning, he 
 crept down from the loft, and raking together the 
 coals upon the hearth, he breakfasted on the 
 remains of last night's supper, then stole out into 
 the wet and sombre world. 
 
 How sweet it was to breathe the early air and 
 feel the earth beneath his feet, and have the weeds 
 and underbrush rap him about the knees as he 
 pushed away to the interior! The fisherman's 
 hut was a league behind him when he saw the 
 
OUT OF THE SHADOW AND INTO THE SUN. 169 
 
 east redden with the rising sun, for the besom of 
 the storm had swept the heavens clear. What a 
 wonderful light threaded the woods and glorified 
 the tree-tops, sparkling and changing with every 
 motion of the boughs ! Often he had seen it 
 among his native Carolina hills, this opaline open- 
 ing of the morn, but never before with such a 
 thrill of appreciation, such a rush of exquisite 
 
 joy- 
 
 " Good morning, Joscelyn ; I am a free man 
 to-day." And he bowed as though he had been 
 in a ball-room, and picking a bit of blossom that 
 nodded at him, he stuck it jauntily in his ragged 
 coat. 
 
 If it had not been for that dead face playing 
 hide-and-seek always among the bushes about him, 
 he could have whistled as he walked. Now and 
 then he sighted houses and cultivated fields, but 
 he kept to the woods ; not until he reached the 
 sea on the other side of the island would he ven- 
 ture to show his face at a door. There were wild 
 grapes in the thickets and sweet beach mass to 
 eat ; and a little past noon he found a late melon 
 in the weeds of a fence corner, and feasted like a 
 lord. 
 
 But half a mile farther on, his pleasure was for- 
 gotten in a keen excitement, for from a slight 
 eminence, he saw the plain stretching to the right 
 and left white with the tents of soldiery ; and not 
 ten paces from him a sentinel, with his back this 
 way, sat on a fallen tree and read a letter. A few 
 
170 JOSCELYN CHESHIRE. 
 
 more steps, and he would have been in the hor- 
 nets' nest, — a helpless captive. Instantly he 
 dropped upon his knees, and crawled into the 
 brush as stealthily as a creature of the jungle. 
 He had evidently come too far west in his flight, 
 for this was a part of Clinton's army, quartered 
 here within easy reach of New Tork. Far away 
 to either side the tents reached, dotting the whole 
 expanse of country. To turn either wing looked 
 like an impossibility ; it would take him days to 
 skirt those picket posts to the east; and on the 
 west, he knew from what the fisherman had said 
 that they must reach even to the hamlet whence 
 the boats went daily to New York. To take that 
 route meant a sure and swift destruction, since he 
 would be thrusting himself into the very toils he 
 longed to avoid. His one chance seemed to be a 
 retreat the way he came, and then to beat his way 
 to the northeast along the coast of the Sound, and 
 get over to the Connecticut side on some fishing- 
 boat. He would be weeks — perhaps months — 
 longer in reaching Washington or home, but bet- 
 ter that a thousand times than certain capture. 
 He reasoned it all out carefully, lying under the 
 thicket, and then lingered a few minutes to envy 
 the unconscious sentinel his letter, for of course it 
 was from home. How long it had been since he 
 had heard aught of his loved ones — three weary 
 months ! 
 
 Downcast and disheartened, he returned along 
 his own trail, and in the early twilight heard the 
 
A 
 
 OUT OF THE SHADOW AND INTO THE SUN. 171 
 
 boom of the surf ahead of him. But he had 
 missed his wav somewiiat, and came out of the 
 brush on the side of the inlet across from the 
 fisherman's hut. He found he would have to 
 walk an extra mile or two to get back to that 
 shelter for the night. He sighed and turned, but 
 just at that moment there flashed upon his sight 
 a light from a window some fifty yards down the 
 inlet, and on the same side with himself. 
 
 Stay ; this was Dame Grant's hut, and she went 
 to-morrow to the Jersey shore to visit her kin. 
 
 He did not go back around the head of the 
 cove, but turned instead into the field before this 
 other hut, whose friendly light was winking at 
 him through the dusk. His resolution was taken, 
 for good or ill. 
 
 Evidently the dame had company, for there 
 was the sound of voices and laughter on the 
 water front of the little house ; and Richard stood 
 still with a tingling sense of pleasure, — it had been 
 so long since he had heard people laugh joyously 
 and heartily, that the sound came like the echo of 
 something loved but almost forgotten. Between 
 a hayrick and the fence he finally lay down to 
 wait ; and while he waited he slept, for when he 
 awoke the hut Avas silent, although the light still 
 burned at the window. The chill of autumn was 
 in the air, and he shivered as he crossed the en- 
 closure and stood looking into the lighted room. 
 It was a pleasant scene: the two boys slept upon 
 a wooden bench, but the dame sat by the table, 
 
172 JOSCELYN CHESHIRE. 
 
 busy with a piece of bright-hued patchwork, and 
 Richard took heart of grace that she smiled as 
 she sewed. From his ragged boot-leg he had 
 taken Colborn's gold piece, and now he used it to 
 tap lightly on the small, diamond-shaped pane. 
 The dame looked up in surprise to see a hatless 
 man at her window ; but he smiled cheerily and 
 beckoned, holding the gold piece against the glass 
 that she might see it. For a moment she looked 
 at him frowningiy, then the glitter of the gold 
 won her, and she got up and opened the door. 
 
 " What want you at this hour of the night at 
 an honest woman's house ? " 
 
 " I want an honest conversation with an honest 
 woman, therefore came I to your door, knowing 
 where to find both. In all true faith and respect 
 I am here; so come, good mother, ask me in. 
 Without your bidding I will not enter, for I would 
 not wilfully intrude upon the privacy of a lady." 
 He bowed low, clicking his heels as neatly as 
 though he were her partner in a minuet. 
 
 " Go along with your fine ways," she said, but 
 she laughed. . 
 
 " No ways can be too fine for a lady." And he 
 took her hand and kissed it with the air of a prince, 
 clicking his heels again in that military salute. 
 
 " You young impudence ! leave go my hand — 
 you'll find it heavy enough on your ear presently. 
 I'll warrant you have it in mind to fleece me out 
 of something, so say your say and be done with 
 it," but there was no real anger in her voice. 
 
OUT OF THE SHADOW AND INTO THE SUN. 173 
 
 " ISTay, I am no highwayman nor money beggar ; 
 for that which you do for me I will pay you 
 well," he answered, again holding up the gold 
 piece. " But would you not be more comfortable 
 sitting?" He waved his hand toward the chair 
 she had quitted, and the fine courtesy of his tone 
 again called forth her laugh ; but she took the 
 hint and, turning, bade him enter. 
 
 " Well, where do we begin ? " she said, when 
 they were seated. 
 
 " My mother always begins by asking a stranger 
 to have something to eat — and you have bonny 
 blue eves like hers," he answered, with bovish 
 audacity, pushing back her loose sleeve and pat- 
 ting the fat arm. 
 
 " 'Tis a good place to start," she answered, shov- 
 ing him off ; and would have called the boys to 
 serve him, but he held her back. 
 
 " I wish no one but you to hear what I have to 
 say. You may trust me — I swear it." So she 
 opened the cupboard herself and brought out 
 plenty of cold food. Eichard ate ravenously, 
 praising everything (for in truth it had a heavenly 
 taste), and telling her how blue her eyes were, and 
 how pretty her patchwork — just like what his 
 own mother used to make. 
 
 " A bit of a quilt for a bairn just born," she 
 said, and smoothed it with her great hands. 
 
 And Richard asked the child's name, and said 
 it had a sweet sound, and hoped it would have 
 blue eyes with a twinkle in them like her own. 
 
174 JOSCELTN CHESHIRE, 
 
 And while he ate and talked she watched him 
 narrowly. He knew it, but he did not care. ' 
 Presently she said, as one asserting a fact : — 
 
 " You are from one of the prison- ships." 
 
 He nodded, smiling; and his frankness evi- 
 dently pleased her, for she nodded back. " That's 
 right; no use to lie about it. I knew I had 
 seen your face somewhere. How did you get 
 away ? " 
 
 " That is the one thing I cannot tell you, good 
 mother, for it would implicate the man who helped 
 me, and not even for your favour — though God 
 knows I want it bad enough — will I betray my 
 friend." 
 
 " Eight again ; hold fast to the man wdio holds 
 to you ; I like to see folk grateful." 
 
 Then he told her how he wanted to go in her 
 boat to the Jersey shore, and how it was he hap- 
 pened to know her plans. But she shook her 
 head ; the risk was too great. 
 
 " There will be no risk at all. You are so well 
 known to the soldiers at the different posts that 
 you will never be questioned. It would be but 
 natural for you to take some one stronger than 
 your boys to help you in making so long a voy- 
 age. Find me but a coat and hat, and no one 
 will give me a thought, for I know how to hold 
 my tongue when occasion calls." 
 
 But still she refused. Her passport called but 
 for three, and she "was not going to run her head 
 into a noose for all his fine speeches and petting 
 
OUT OF THE SHADOW AND INTO THE SUN. 175 
 
 ways — for he had squeezed her hand and patted 
 her gray hair while he talked. 
 
 He would not listen to her refusal ; if she did 
 not take him, he was lost. And he got hold of 
 her other hand, and in pathetic words described 
 to her the agony he had suffered on the vessel ; 
 and then he dropped his head on the table and 
 almost sobbed as he told her of Joscelvn and his 
 yearning to see her. 
 
 " Oho, a sweetheart, is it ? " asked the old 
 woman, with aroused interest. 
 
 " Yes, as bonny a girl as you ever set eyes upon. 
 And think you, good dame, of your own young 
 days, of the time when the lads were at your beck 
 and call, — for I warrant me those blue ej^es broke 
 many hearts, — would you not have been grateful 
 if your lover had been in peril and some one had 
 saved him for j^ou ? " 
 
 The dame chuckled. "Ay, ay, I had my 
 fling with the lads, I did." 
 
 "It goes without the saying. And there was 
 one among them whom you loved ? " The brown 
 face grew suddenly very tender as with the 
 shadow of a memory. " Then for the sake of 
 him save Joscelyn's sweetheart for her." 
 
 But still she shook her head, and for a minute 
 Richard was in despair. Then he began all over 
 again, adding the gold piece to his argument. 
 Thus for half an hour the plea went on, and just 
 as he felt that he had failed, she suddenly nodded 
 her head decisivelv, that softened light ao^ain shin- 
 ing in her face. 
 
176 JOSCELYN CHESHIRE. 
 
 " One of the boys shall bide at home, and you 
 may go in his stead, since you are so set on it ; 
 but mind, you help with the boat, and I have the 
 gold." 
 
 " That and Joscelyn's love shall be yours, you 
 dear, bonny dame ! " he cried rapturously, seizing 
 her about the shoulders and kissing her heartily 
 on either red cheek. 
 
 " Get out ! Of all the lads I ever saw, you have 
 the freest manners." But the shove she gave him 
 had in it no roughness. He had set her to think- 
 ing of her own youth and of a lad who had gone 
 to sea one morning, kissing his hand to her, but 
 had never come home again, though she had 
 waited for him for many a day through shine of 
 sun and wail of storm. Through all her life a 
 woman's first love is a touchstone to her sym- 
 pathy, an open sesame to her tenderness ; neither 
 as maid, nor 3^et as wife, does she ever quite for- 
 get that first sweet spell upon her heart. Dame 
 Grant scarcely saw the man beside her, but for 
 sake of that other lad, whom nobody had been 
 able to help far back in the years that were dead, 
 she would save this other girl's lover. 
 
 In an hour their preparations were made. 
 From the loft of her hut the dame brought 
 down a leather jerkin and a battered hat, and 
 after her scissors had gone over Richard's head, 
 he was metamorphosed so that even she herself 
 would scarcely have recognized him. 
 
 " You'd be a fine figure of a man if those 
 
OUT OF THE SHADOW AND INTO THE SUN. 177 
 
 wretches on the ship had not starved the shape 
 out of you." 
 
 "My mother always said that in the way of 
 beauty Providence had done more for my legs 
 than for my face," Richard laughed. 
 
 "Well, the warden hath undone the job, for 
 thy breeches hang like a scarecrow's. Now up 
 into the loft with j^ou, and find some straw 
 w^hereon to sleep. 'Tis close upon midnight, and 
 we start with the sun." 
 
 But Richard was too full of joy and excitement 
 to sleep much, and so when the dame and her 
 boys came out the next morning, they found him 
 sitting beside the boat, pulling on his boots after 
 a plunge into the cold salt water. The feeling 
 in his breast was indescribable when at last, after 
 many injunctions to the boy who was left, they 
 drew out of the cove into the open bay, in the 
 pearl and purple morning, and he knew his jour- 
 ney was begun. 
 
 They went somewhat out of their way that 
 Dame Grant might leave some parcels at the 
 patrol station, their course taking them within a 
 hundred yards of the three prison-ships rocking 
 in the bay. At first Richard turned his eyes 
 away with a sickening sense of pain and rage_, 
 then looked eagerly to see if be might recognize 
 Peter on the deck. Yes, there he was, near the 
 stern ; Richard knew him from his height and 
 from the cap he wore, and he had to hold his 
 teeth clenched to keep from crying out to him. 
 
178 JOSCELTN CHESHIRE. 
 
 How dismal and condemned the three hulks 
 looked, despite the transfiguring touch of the 
 morning ! And over there on the strand was his 
 grave, the spot to which his mother's thoughts 
 would make many a sorrowful pilgrimage if so 
 the news of his death should outrun him to the 
 Carolina hills. 
 
 At the station one of the guards remarked on 
 the fact that the dame had a new hand aboard. 
 
 " Yes ; Henry's stomach's apt to go back on 
 him in rough weather, and at this season o' the 
 year we are like to get into a blow any time, so 
 I left him and brought a stronger man. It turns 
 my blood to see Henr}^ heaving and gagging 
 when he ought to be shortening sail." 
 
 "Well, yon fellow hasn't much the look of a 
 sailor," said the man, eying Richard suspiciously 
 as he was making awkward attempts to pull in a 
 flapping sail. 
 
 " Oh, he isn't showing off, but he suits me well 
 enough," the dame answered, with a warning side 
 look at Hichard, who instantly gave better heed 
 to his task. Nothing but her coolness saved him, 
 for the guard's word, coming so suddenly, had 
 made him go very white. 
 
 Then a p^an of praise went singing itself 
 through his heart, for the parcels were delivered, 
 and pushing off from shore the boat sailed out 
 of the ba}'^ and turned her nose to the west. Down 
 the narrow waterway between Long Island and 
 the city of New York they sailed all the morning, 
 
OUT OF THE SHADOW AND INTO THE SUN. 179 
 
 stopping here and there at signals from patrol 
 stations to show their passports. But at none of 
 these places were they detained very long, fo^ 
 Dame Grant had looked carefully to such mat- 
 ters, and so noon found them in a wide bay to the 
 south of the city. No misfortune had befallen 
 Richard, for he had kept a still tongue at every 
 stopping place. In the afternoon the breeze 
 quickened, and they went racing away before it 
 toward the ever growing shore-line ahead, and in 
 the gloaming they landed at a Httle hamlet on the 
 Jersey side of the bay. 
 
 High up on the beach the boat was pulled and 
 tied to a stake, and then while the boy was gap- 
 ing about him, Richard went back to the boat 
 side and took the dame's big hand in his : — 
 
 "You have kept your contract, and the gold is 
 yours ; God bless you for a good, true woman ! " 
 he said, leaving the coin in her palm. 
 
 But she thrust it back vigorously: "Nay, I 
 will none of it; I but put it in the bargain to test 
 you. You have paid me twofold by your labour 
 and your good gratitude. Tell your Joscelyn that I 
 send you to her as a gift, and bid her use you well." 
 
 Nothing could prevail upon her to touch the 
 coin, and so at last Richard turned away. 
 
 *'Hist!" she said, holding him a moment, "'tis 
 said there is a Continental force near Brunswick; 
 keep to the southwest." 
 
 " Thank you, and God keep you ! " And the 
 gathering shadows swallowed him up. 
 
180 JOSCELYN CHESHIRE. 
 
 At that very moment, on board the prison-ship 
 Good Hope, Eustace Singleton was listening to 
 the story of his death from the obsequious war- 
 den, and wondering how he was to write it to 
 Betty. 
 
 And far away in Hillsboro' Joscelyn and Betty 
 were going slowly home in bitter disappointment, 
 after seeing the post-rider distribute his few let- 
 ters, and finding there was nothing for them. 
 How many and how long had been the weeks 
 since thev wrote to Eustace : for then it was sum- 
 mer-time, and now the red and ochre tints of the 
 autumn flamed in the woodlands. And still Betty 
 cried, and still Joscelyn counselled patience. 
 
CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 "kiss me quick and let me go." 
 
 " And to his eye 
 There was but one beloved face on earth, 
 And that was shining on him." 
 
 TT was a windy day in late November, one of 
 -■- those rare days when summer, repenting of 
 her desertion, steals softly back to comfort the 
 earth with a parting smile. Out in the brown 
 fields the birds pruned their wings in the sun and 
 sang a few notes softly, as a singer who recalls 
 fitfully and doubtfully a long forgotten tune ; the 
 golden daisies by the door still burnt like stars 
 late fallen from the far firmament; a revivified 
 butterfly hovered languidly over the faded aster 
 beds, and venturesome wasps sallied from their 
 castles under the eaves and buzzed droningly 
 against the window panes. It was a day of 
 shifting shadows, of subtle changes and soft 
 surprises, 
 
 Joscelyn and Betty sat over their embroidery 
 frames in the latter's parlour, talking over the 
 events of the past two months — the long wait 
 between their letter to Eustace and his sorrowful 
 reply ; the grief that clouded the two houses for 
 four days following, before they knew that Eich- 
 
 181 
 
182 JOSCELYN CHESHIRE. 
 
 ard had escaped and was not dead, and the intense 
 relief and joj his short message had brought 
 them. 
 
 " It was like a hundred candles suddenly brought 
 into a dark room," Betty said, snipping off her 
 thread. " But do you know, Joscelyn, that you 
 acted so queerly, scolding because you had cried 
 so much, and cocking your head before the mirror 
 to count the wrinkles your grieving had made, — 
 though for the life of me I could never see one 
 of them, — that I half believed you were angry 
 that Richard had not died in truth." 
 
 " You give me credit for much feeling, I am 
 sure," quizzed Joscelyn. " But in sooth, Betty, 
 when a woman gets circles under her eyes, and 
 crow's feet at the corners of her mouth, and a 
 dismal whine to her voice through over-mucb 
 sighing, she likes to know it has not been all ir? 
 vain. Wasted grief is like wasted sweets — use 
 less." 
 
 " I would to heaven all grief were useless and 
 
 in vain." 
 
 Joscelyn shook her head. "That would not 
 do ; for without grief there would be no pity, and 
 without pity there would be no love, and life 
 without love were not worth the living." 
 
 " Love ? What do you know of love ? " Betty 
 asked, looking up quickly. 
 
 " You vain little minx ! do you think Cupid 
 wasted all his arrows on you and Eustace ? " 
 
 " N-o ; but Joscelyn — " 
 
"kiss me quick and let me go." 183 
 
 " ' But, Joscelyn,' " mimicked the other, still 
 laughing ; " from the doubt in your voice one 
 would think you were own daughter to that 
 biblical Thomas whose faith was so small. Trust 
 me, Cupid has saved a shaft in his quiver for me." 
 
 " You are such a queer girl, Joscelyn ; one never 
 knows how to take you. You sorrowed for Richard 
 so vehemently at first — do you — can you mean 
 that you care just a little for him ? " 
 
 " My dear, I was much more in love with 
 Richard dead than I am ever like to be with 
 Richard alive. You see. Death is not unlike 
 charity : it covers a multitude of faults." 
 
 " You heartless creature ! " 
 
 And Betty got up and took her frame to an- 
 other window. But she could never stay angry 
 long, partly because of her gentle disposition, and 
 partly because she knew that much of Joscelyn's 
 seeming heartlessness was in truth but mischievous 
 banter; and so their heads were close togethei 
 again very soon, while their needles wrought silken 
 poppies or blue-eyed violets into the meshes oi 
 canvas on their frames. 
 
 And while they thus talked and sewed, a horse- 
 man came galloping down the streets. A great 
 commotion followed in his wake ; for he rode with 
 a free rein and so rapidly withal that his horse's 
 hoofs struck sparks from the loose stones of the 
 street. Straight to Mistress Clevering's door he 
 went, and springing down stayed not to knock or 
 parley, but entering without ceremony and meet- 
 
184 JOSCELYN CHESHIRE. 
 
 ing the astonished lady in the hall, hugged her 
 with a will. 
 
 " Why — it is — Richard — Richard ! " 
 
 Her voice was half choked with giving back his 
 kisses, but it reached the two girls in the parlour 
 who, startled at first into silence, threw down their 
 needles and rushed headlong into the hall, and, 
 before they realized it, were kissed by the new- 
 comer in a rapturous greeting, 
 
 Joscelyn's cheek burnt scarlet under his lips, but 
 so glad was she to see him safe after all their 
 anxiety that she submitted without protest. In 
 faith, it was over so quickly, there had been no 
 time for resistance. Devouring her with his eyes, 
 he tried to retain her hand when the ffreetins: was 
 over, but after a moment she slipped it, not 
 unkindly, from his grasp, and presently when he 
 had told them briefly of his marvellous escape, she 
 ran over to give her mother the news and to see 
 if there was not a piece of his favourite cake in the 
 cupboard. A warm tingle was in her veins, and 
 she put her hand up to the cheek he had kissed. 
 How pleasant it was to hear his voice in the house. 
 If he would only leave the war alone, and — and 
 quit making love to her, she would be so fond of 
 him ; they used to be excellent comrades before 
 these two things came between them. 
 
 Thinking thus, she put a napkin over the cake 
 and turned to leave the pantry ; but Richard, under 
 pretext of speaking to her mother, had followed 
 her, and now stood in the door barring her exit. 
 
"kiss me quick and let me go." 185 
 
 "Joscelyn, how good it is to see you again! 
 Have you thought of me ? " 
 
 " 'Twould have been impossible not to think of 
 you with nothing else being talked of in the house 
 these two months past." 
 
 " But have you missed me ? " 
 
 " Why, we miss anything to which we have 
 been accustomed." 
 
 " And you sorrowed for me ? " 
 
 " Truly, Richard, I should be a most hard- 
 hearted girl not to sorrow over such suffering as 
 has been yours." 
 
 " God bless you ! " He was so full of joy over 
 the meeting that he did not notice the lack of 
 love-warmth in her voice, but when he would have 
 put his arm about her, she pushed him off with 
 quiet decision. 
 
 "Nay, Richard, do not begin that. You told 
 your mother just now that you had but three 
 hours to stay with us ; let us not waste a single 
 moment of the time in a useless love-making." 
 
 " But you kissed me for greeting." 
 
 " Nay, sir, 'twas you kissed me," she said, with 
 a shimmer of laughter over her face like sunlight 
 upon dancing water. 
 
 " Listen, sweetheart," he said, coming very close 
 to her, his head swimming with the soft intoxica- 
 tion of her presence ; " we may have but these 
 few minutes together, but I want you to know 
 that it was the thought of you that kept me alive 
 in that vile prison and finally nerved me to escape. 
 
186 JOSCELYN CHESHIRE. 
 
 But for you, — for the fierce longing to see you, to 
 touch you, — I should have stayed there and died 
 like a rat." 
 
 " Eustace did all he could," she broke in, ''' but 
 our letter was long in reaching him, for General 
 Clinton had sent him to help repel the attack on 
 Rhode Island, and he did not return to jS^ew York 
 for more than a month." 
 
 "I know, and some day I shall thank him; 
 but he could not have effected my release or 
 exchange, only bought a little favour from my 
 hard jailers, and I cared not for that kind of 
 obligation from one of his name. It was you — 
 the memory of your dear face — that steeled my 
 nerves and broke my bonds. There is a species 
 of numbing despair that comes upon a man some- 
 times over which a great love alone can triumph." 
 
 She put her hand upon his arm, for there was 
 a pathos in his voice that touched her deeply ; 
 " Richard, I wish I loved you." 
 
 " And so you shall, and do," he cried ; and in- 
 stantly the tender spell upon her was broken, for 
 in his tone and manner was the old arrogance 
 and sureness that she so much resented. He felt 
 the change, and said pleadingl}^, " The fisher- 
 woman who rescued me said at parting, ' Tell 
 your Joscelyn to use you well.' Are you so soon 
 forgetting her injunction "i " 
 
 " ISTay ; she w^as a good woman, and I shall 
 pray for her." 
 
 " Love me instead — 'twill be truer gratitude." 
 
"kiss me quick and let me go." 187 
 
 But his mother and Mistress Cheshire were in 
 the hall, and so for answer Joscelyn pushed him 
 through the door; and he w^ent out to the older 
 women, munching a bit of sweet cake like a boy. 
 
 By this time the neighbours were all collected 
 about the door, eager to hear of absent sons and 
 husbands ; and he went out to them and answered 
 questions, and took messages and told anew the 
 story of his escape, but with such omissions of 
 names as to throw no suspicion on Dame Grant, if 
 so the story found its way back to the north. 
 
 " And in writing to Peter," he said to Patience 
 and her mother, who were grief stricken at his 
 story, " say only that Dick Clevering told you 
 where he w^as; he will understand, and anything 
 else might arouse the w^arden's suspicions and 
 bring punishment upon him." 
 
 He thought they would never have done with 
 their inquiries and their bemoan ings, so short was 
 his time and so eager was he for one more word 
 with Joscelyn. At last he said : — 
 
 "And now, my friends, I will carry as many 
 letters as my pockets can hold, but they must 
 be writ in short shift, for in an hour I go on my 
 journey and shall not return this way when once 
 I set my face northward." 
 
 And so they w^ent away, — some to prepare 
 their missives, others out of delicacy, feeling his 
 own people must have him to themselves. 
 
 " Tell us all about your journey's purpose, 
 Eichard," said Betty, 
 
188 JOSCELYN CHESHIRE. 
 
 " No, sister ; a soldier's mission is not his 
 property. Suffice it for you to know that another 
 man, Dunn by name, and I go through the Caro- 
 linas, perhaps so far south as Savannah, on busi- 
 ness for the commander-in-chief. He cannot 
 weaken his present force by detaching any num- 
 ber of men to aid the southerners, but he wants 
 to put them on their guard against the force 
 Clinton is sending by sea from New York; and 
 also to learn accurately the strength of the cause 
 in these parts. 
 
 " And where is Master Dunn ? " 
 
 " He stopped for a few hours over the Yir- 
 ginia line to see his wife, and I rode the livelong 
 night that I might have this glimpse of you. 
 Methinks I should almost have deserted to come 
 back for a look at you all, had I not persuaded 
 Dunn to choose me on this expedition." 
 
 " And where are you to meet him ? " 
 
 " At Charlotte, three days hence." 
 
 "When Eustace — when Master Singleton," — - 
 Betty corrected herself, with a vivid blush, " wrote, 
 saying you were dead, mother and I were like to 
 go crazy wdth grief. He wrote it kindly, but for 
 two days mother did not leave her bed." 
 
 " And what did Joscelyn say ? " 
 
 " Oh, Joscelyn cried till her eyes were all red 
 and puffed, and reminded us how you and she 
 used to ride and read and walk together without 
 even so much as a sharp word until the war talk 
 came on. She did much to comfort mother." 
 
"kiss me quick and let me go." 189 
 
 " God bless her ! But you were not long in 
 suspense ? " 
 
 " No; but mother had already prepared to have 
 a service in your memory, and Janet and Patience 
 had practised the hymns." 
 
 " Well, there was at least a grave to sing over," 
 laughed Richard ; but his mother was crying, even 
 to think of those sad hours. 
 
 " How thin you are ! " she said, feeling his arms 
 tenderly. 
 
 " Well, mother, when a man has been in his 
 grave, 'tis not to be expected that he will look like 
 one of the fatted kine. But I am plump as a rosy 
 Cupid compared with what I have been ; and this 
 reminds me that I am hungry for some of your 
 good cooking ; do you and Betty get me up a bit 
 of dinner while I look to my horse." 
 
 But he knew his horse had been cared for, and 
 instead of the stable, it was Joscelyn's door he 
 sought. 
 
 " I have but a little while left," he said ; " come 
 and sit with us, that I may not lose sight of you 
 for one of those blessed minutes. I am as a 
 thirsty man with the cup held ever out of his 
 reach." 
 
 " I thought you would wish to talk with your 
 mother and sister alone." 
 
 " There is nothing I tell them that I would not 
 quite as willingly trust to you ; for though you 
 are a Loyalist, yet you are loyal to your friends," 
 he said, smiling at his own pleasantry, and she 
 
190 JOSCELYN CHESHIRE. 
 
 laughed too. Long afterward those words came 
 back to him with a pang. 
 
 As they crossed the street Mistress Strudwick 
 hailed them from the sidewalk. " Hey, there, 
 Eichard I you are keeping bad company and will 
 fall under suspicion, consorting with that young 
 Tory," she cried. "Are 3'our despatches in the 
 pocket next to her? — if so, beware!" 
 
 " I have them in my heart, Mistress Strudwick." 
 
 "Then in faith are they already Joscelyn's," 
 laughed the old lady, teasingly pinching the girl's 
 cheek as the two came up to her. 
 
 " Come, Mistress Strudwick, Richard wears not 
 his heart on his sleeve." 
 
 "But he pins it instead upon yours — which is 
 quite as public. Ah, Richard, she is a sad dare- 
 devil!" and she went on to tell him of some of 
 the scenes of the past months. He had feared 
 for her from the first, and in his mother's parlour 
 he caught her arm almost fiercely : — 
 
 " Are you mad that you jeopardize yourself 
 in this wav ? " 
 
 "Mistress Strudwick is over-alarmed; I can 
 take care of myself," she answered, a trifle hotly. 
 
 But he was not satisfied ; one word brought on 
 another, and they were nearly quarrelling when 
 Betty came to say his dinner was ready. 
 
 " Joscelyn," he whispered, with a sudden soften- 
 ing of manner as they went down the hall, and 
 he took her hand and laid in it a shining gold 
 piece, " this is all the gold I have in the world ; 
 
"kiss me quick and let me go." 191 
 
 T-t was to have paid the price of my flight, but the 
 fisherwoman would not have it. Keep it for me 
 lill the war is done — I have a special purpose 
 for it." 
 
 After dinner the neighbours came with their 
 letters and farewells, and he had no further talk 
 alone with Joscelyn. She bade him a very gentle 
 good-by, however, and ran across to her own 
 balcony opposite, while he comforted his mother 
 and Betty and said farewell to the assembled 
 friends. When he was mounted and had waved 
 them a last adieu, he made his horse curvet as 
 1 hough loath to start, and so brought up close to 
 \ae rail of the opposite balcony. 
 
 " Joscelyn, keep the gold piece safe and in some 
 J- allowed place, for when the war is done it shall 
 >;e made into our wedding ring — 'tis for that I 
 liived it. Good-by, sweetheart." 
 
 And then he was gone as he had come, with 
 n free rein and a ringing hoof beat; and the 
 ijrowd behind broke into small groups to discuss 
 the news he had brought, while the girl leaning 
 on the veranda across the way, turned a shining 
 coin in her hand, looking at it pensively, with 
 .1 curious light in her eyes. 
 
CHAPTEK XIX. 
 
 THE WEARING OF A KED EOSE. 
 
 " She gives thee a garland woven fair, 
 Take care I 
 It is a fool's-cap for thee to wear, 
 Beware ! Beware I 
 Trust her not. 
 She's fooling thee ! " 
 
 — Longfellow. 
 
 FMHE winter that followed was a quiet one in 
 -^ Hillsboro'. Joscelyn sewed at the flaming 
 poppies of her embroidery during the mornings, 
 rode with Betty or Mary Singleton over the 
 commons in the afternoons when the snow was 
 not too deep, and in the evenings played crib- 
 bage with her mother or sang to the sound of 
 her spinet in the fire-lighted parlour. Xow and 
 then news of the outside strife came over the 
 mountains or out of the far reaches to the north 
 and east ; but the red wave of war spent itself 
 before it reached the inland town. Washington 
 was jealously watching the British in New York, 
 and in the south the fate of Charleston was rapidly 
 being sealed, while now and then a soldier, coming 
 home on furlough or sick leave, brought tidings/ 
 of the partisan warfare, ceaselessly waged through 
 the Oarolinas and Georgia by Sumter and Marion 
 
 192 
 
THE WEARING OF A BED ROSE. 193 
 
 and other bold leaders ; but Hillsboro', upon the 
 Eno, dozed through the long winter months. 
 
 " This war is worse than tiresome ; it's perfectly 
 hateful," Janet Cameron said, twisting her yellow 
 curls about her fingers and pouting disconsolately ; 
 " it is making old maids of us w^hether the men 
 wish it or not. Here I am, eighteen this coming 
 "Whitsuntide, and not a genuine suitor have I had." 
 
 "Fie, Janet! Where is Billy Bryce?" asked 
 Joscelyn, in whose room the two sat. " Billy has 
 loved you from your pinafore days." 
 
 " That baby ? " with a scornful accent. 
 
 " You did not use to think him such a baby." 
 
 " Perchance not ; for he is a whole six months 
 older than I, and that is a mighty age ! " 
 
 " What manner of lover do you want now ? " 
 
 " Oh, a grown man — a big strong fellow with 
 a will of his own, who never asks for a kiss, but 
 just takes it." 
 
 "You little minx! what know you of kissing 
 men-folk ? " 
 
 "Nothing- — that is just it — " 
 
 "Janet!" 
 
 " — for when Billy blushes like a peony, and 
 politely and decorously begs to kiss my cheek, I 
 am in duty bound to look shocked, and blush back, 
 and say no ; nothing else would satisfy my dig- 
 nity, though I could pinch him for it ! That 
 is why I call him a baby," stoutly maintained 
 the girl, her lips curling, and her voice full of 
 mockery. 
 
194: JOSCELYN CHESHIRE. 
 
 " He does not wish to forget his manners." 
 
 " To say al ways ' if you please ' for tender favours 
 is not the manners for a lover." 
 
 " Since you are so wise, tell me what sort of 
 manners a lover should have." 
 
 " Oh, you know without the telling ! He ought 
 to be headstrong and masterful and a — a bold 
 robber when it comes to claiming favours from his 
 lady ; and full of mock repentance after the 
 theft." 
 
 " "Well, when Billy comes from the war, I shall 
 give him a hint as to how to mend his behaviour." 
 
 " An you did, I should hate you. Why, he does 
 not even know how to write to a girl. Here is a 
 letter from him in which he sends his duty to his 
 mother — did you ever hear of such idiocy? A 
 love letter with a message like that ! A love 
 letter should be private and confidential, filled 
 full of such sweetness that one pair of eyes 
 alone should read it; and he sends his duty to 
 his mother, forsooth ! Why, that prying old 
 creature would insist upon reading every line 
 written here if I gave her the message — and 
 Heaven knows she might, and be none the wiser, 
 for all of sentiment there is in it is this last 
 sentence, ' I would send you my love, an I dared ; 
 but I would not for the world make you angry or 
 hurt your maidenly modesty.' Now that is a 
 love letter for vou ! " 
 
 ft/ 
 
 " Well, it is not deliriously passionate," admitted 
 Joscelyn. 
 
THE WEARING OF A RED ROSE. 195 
 
 "It is deliriously idiotic. I'd just have him 
 understand that my modesty is not quite so thin- 
 skinned as he imagines." 
 
 Joscelyn fell back in her chair, shrieking with 
 laughter, while the yellow-headed tempest before 
 the glass shook her curls, and emphasized her 
 words with a scouting gesture, " Why, Joscelyn, 
 if I were that boy's great-grandmother, he could 
 not treat me with more deferential respect." 
 
 " I think it is beautiful in him." 
 
 " Beautiful ! "Well, I think it is imbecile ! Hurt 
 my maidenly modesty, indeed! — one would think 
 my modesty were a sore toe to be stubbed or trod 
 upon. Stop laughing, Joscelyn Cheshire ; you are 
 as stupid as Billy." And when Joscelyn answered 
 with another silvery peal, Janet, in high indigna- 
 tion, flung out of the room and down the steps, her 
 heels clattering as she went ; and the next morn- 
 ing her maid carried the offending letter to Mistress 
 Bryce with a sweetly worded note, saying Billy had 
 no doubt made a mistake in the address of his 
 missive. And Billy swore his first oath when he 
 heard of it. 
 
 Nor was Janet the only one who came to con- 
 fessional in Joscelyn's room. It was there that 
 Betty found the only outlet for her secret joy. 
 In spite of the war and its sad consequences, the 
 year had been such a happy one — the sweetest 
 year she had ever known ; for it had been full of 
 dreams and fancies, of thrills and hopes. Even 
 the self-reproach, with which she sometimes tor- 
 
196 JOSOELYN CHESHIRE. 
 
 mented herself because of her mother, had in it 
 a touch of sweetness since it was linked with her 
 love. The whole world was as a new place ; the 
 winter snows held an unthought of revelation of 
 beauty, and each flower that budded to the spring 
 sunshine was a fresh creation bearing on its pet- 
 als an unspelled message of love. She would not 
 write to Eustace, for that would be undutiful to 
 her mother ; but Joscelyn's letters were filled with 
 tender messages for her, with now and then a 
 little wafered note that burnt her fingers with a 
 delicious sense of forbidden fruit, and which she 
 read and re-read in the privacy of her white-cur- 
 tained room, trembling and flushing at the story 
 they told, — the future they painted. 
 
 But as the spring advanced, a shade of sadness 
 crept over her happiness, a fihn like the impalpa- 
 ble dust that gathers on a fine picture hanging 
 always in the light. Eustace had ceased to write. 
 Two months had gone by, and no word had come 
 from him. A strange, new fear was tugging at 
 Betty's heart. 
 
 "Naught of evil has befallen him, or Mary 
 would know ; and you said they had no tidings ? " 
 she asked wistfully one evening, as she leaned 
 against Joscelyn's window and watched the 
 pale-petalled stars blossom through the purple 
 gloaming. 
 
 " I rode all the way to the Singletons' yester- 
 day afternoon on purpose to ask, and they know 
 nothing." 
 
THE WEAKING OF A RED ROSE. 197 
 
 " And his mother feels no uneasiness ? " 
 
 " None. She says Lord Cornwallis would im- 
 mediately inform her if he should be killed." 
 
 Betty heaved a deep sigh ; and then that latent 
 fear came out, "I suppose he finds the ladies of 
 the city so beautiful and entertaining that he has 
 forgotten his — his friends here." 
 
 " S-o ! that is what makes you so long of face 
 these days ? Well, I do not believe a word of it. 
 Eustace is no jilt. You will find that you at least 
 are remembered, and that his silence is from 
 reasonable cause." 
 
 " His cousin, Ellen Singleton, is such a beautiful 
 woman — you remember Richard told us of her in 
 his letter about the Philadelphia fete. Like Mary, 
 he said, only more lovely. They must of neces- 
 sity be much together, for she, too, is in New 
 York." 
 
 " And betrothed to Major Grant, you jealous 
 child." 
 
 " But that need really make no difference so far 
 as Eustace's admiration goes. Besides, there must 
 be others as lovely." 
 
 " Of course ; but you are pretty, too, when 
 your face is not long and your eyes red with 
 weeping." 
 
 Betty went home comforted ; and that night, 
 when her mother made some sharp remark about 
 the Singleton household, she plucked up courage to 
 say it was scarcely fair to judge the whole family 
 adversely because of the father's shortcomings. 
 
198 JOSCELYN CHESHIRE. 
 
 And then, scared at her own temerity, she ran 
 away to her room, and cried out her trouble to 
 that insensate and inanimate confessor of wronged 
 or sorrowing womanhood, — her pillow. 
 
 ■ A week later, Joscelyn, coming from the Single- 
 tons', tied a red ribbon on her shutter as a sign 
 that she had news; and Betty, hastening over, 
 soon learned of Clinton's long and tempestuous 
 voyage from New York to Charleston, whither 
 he went to subdue that city. Eustace had been 
 badly hurt in the storm that wrecked so many of 
 the transports, and had been laid up in the hos- 
 pital at Tybee Bay for weeks, while Clinton went 
 on to Charleston to begin the siege. 
 
 So the British had come again to the south to 
 teach the people of that section their duty to their 
 king, and the quiet that had reigned at Hillsboro' 
 was broken by the coming and going of recruiting 
 parties, and by the vacillating reports of victory or 
 failure from the beleaguered city. 
 
 But it was not until August that the climax 
 came. Then Gates, smarting with the defeat at 
 Camden, halted the remnant of his flying army, 
 scarcely a thousand strong, at the town on the 
 Eno, to rest and sum up the full measure of the 
 disaster that had befallen him. During the short 
 time that he remained, the town was in a ferment. 
 The way to the camp was thronged with sympa- 
 thizers ; kitchen chimneys smoked with the extra 
 cooking, and in every house was a banquet of the 
 best that could be had. Only in the Cheshire 
 
THE WEARING OF A RED ROSE. 199 
 
 house was there no preparation, nor yet upon the 
 door was there the blue and buff cockade that 
 marked the others. There were not lacking those 
 who called official attention to this fact, and so 
 many comments and criticisms crept about among 
 the soldiers that a couple of young officers, bent 
 on a frolic and thinking to teach this wilful Josce- 
 lyn a needed lesson, stopped upon her porch and 
 sent word that they would speak with her. And 
 presently she came down to them, dressed fit to 
 dance in a queen's minuet in silver brocade over a 
 scarlet petticoat, the round whiteness of her neck 
 and arms shining through foamy lace, a red rose 
 in her powdered hair, and a black patch near the 
 corner of her mouth giving a saucy emphasis to 
 her lips. As she stepped out of the door, the 
 young fellows who had been lounging on the 
 porch rail instantly sprang up and uncovered at 
 the sight of so much beauty and dignity. They 
 had thought to find a country maid, mayhap a 
 woman past her youth ; and instead, this glowing 
 creature stood before them. 
 
 " What is your pleasure, gentlemen ? " she asked ; 
 but the stiff courtesy of her question was belied 
 by the laugh in her ej^es. 
 
 They exchanged uneasy glances, and one took a 
 step toward the porch exit ; but the other, who 
 was to be spokesman, summing up resolution, 
 stammered and answered : — 
 
 " We found no cockade of the nation's colours on 
 your door, and did but stop to ask the reason." 
 
200 JOSCELYN CHESHIRE. 
 
 " Your general sent you ? " 
 
 " No, no ; we were but passing, and came of our 
 own accord." 
 
 " Oh, a friendly visit, with no official signifi- 
 cance? I pray you present each other," and she 
 courtesied at each name. " And now let us g-o 
 into the parlour and see what can be done for 
 your entertainment." 
 
 And in the parlour she gave them the best 
 chairs, and set herself with much graciousness of 
 manner to entertain them, plying them with deli- 
 cate compliments, singing her Tory ballads with 
 such laughing abandon that in the same spirit of 
 fun they applauded her, thinking not a moment of 
 the songs, but of the singer. Later on she brewed 
 them a cup of tea, telling them it was a love po- 
 tion to win a fair one's favour ; and although they 
 began by protesting vehemently, yet they ended 
 by drinking it, for she first put her own lips to 
 the cups, and then dared them with her eyes. 
 After that they would scarcely have hesitated at 
 hemlock. At the end of an hour she dismissed 
 them, each with a red rose in his coat. 
 
 "The colour suits your handsome ej'^es," she 
 said softly to one, with a ravishing glance, as she 
 fastened the flower in place. And to the other 
 she murmured, with downcast lids and a sweet 
 similitude of faltering, " This is for memory," as 
 though for them both this hour was to be a tryst 
 for thought and tender recollection, and the rose 
 its symbol. 
 
THE WEARING OF A EED KOSE. 201 
 
 Neither of them had the wish nor the will to 
 tear the flower away ; and so with a certain crest- 
 fallen exhilaration they took their leave, riding 
 slowly down the street, swearing each other to 
 silence. But the story got the rounds within the 
 hour, for Mistress Strudwick, seeing them enter 
 the house and fearing some danger or annoyance 
 to Joscelyn, had followed quickly, and sat in the 
 next room with the door ajar during' the entire 
 interview. And she was not slow in publishing it 
 abroad, so that the young officers were twitted 
 unmercifully at mess and headquarters ; even 
 General Gates, when told of it, forgot for a 
 moment the humiliation of his late defeat, and 
 laughed long and loud. Under the banter one of 
 the men threw his rose away ; but the other held 
 stoutly to his, meeting the raillery with the asser- 
 tion that it was a lady's favour and not a king's 
 colour that he wore. 
 
 " It was not kindly of you to take such mean 
 advantage of them, Joscelyn, seeing how irresisti- 
 ble you can make yourself, but it was just the 
 cleverest thing you ever did," Janet cried, squeez- 
 ing Joscelyn's waist. " Mistress Strudwick has 
 near had apoplexy with laughter, and even Mis- 
 tress Bryce — who hates you like a double dose of 
 senna and was the first to call attention to your 
 undecorated door — could not keep a straight face 
 to hear how neatly you outwitted the young cox- 
 combs. But really, my dear, you deserve no 
 great credit for it ; for in that gown you are fit to 
 
202 J08CELYN CHESHIRE. 
 
 melt harder hearts than Providence gave our gal- 
 lant young soldiers." 
 
 " I do not flatter myself their hearts were 
 touched ; it Avas only their vanity that melted like 
 wax in the flame of my flattery." 
 
 " Well, they deserved what they got, — ■ trying 
 to teach you behaviour, indeed ! " 
 
 The next day the army, refreshed and rested, 
 took up its line of march, passing directly in front 
 of the Cheshire homestead. On the veranda, in 
 her brocade and brilliant petticoat and framed by 
 the riotous rose vine, Joscelyn sat and made pre- 
 tence to be very busy with her flax wheel ; but 
 from under her drooping lids she saw the whole 
 procession. 
 
 Beside his company rode a young lieutenant, 
 his eager gaze ahead of him until he reached the 
 undeco rated house ; then his hat came off, and 
 lifting his lapel on which hung a faded red rose, 
 he cried up to the girl in the balcony : — 
 
 " This is for memory ! " 
 
 And Joscelyn laughed and fluttered her white 
 handkerchief with what might or might not be 
 the suggestion of a kiss. And he, forgetful of 
 military decorum, turned in his saddle and kept 
 his gaze upon her until the troop passed beyond 
 the corner. 
 
 " Do you know, Joscelyn," cried Janet, rushing 
 up the steps, her eyes shining and her yellow curls 
 flying in the wind, " that was Lieutenant Wyley 
 from Halifax — and he is brother to Frederick — 
 
THE WEARING OF A RED ROSE. 203 
 
 and Frederick danced with no one but me last night 
 (you don't know what you missed in not going to 
 the cotillion ! ) — and he has been at my house the 
 livelong morning." 
 
 " S-o ! You have then a new beau to your 
 string ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes ! and he is strong and masterful, and 
 talks love beautifully, and he does not say ' by 
 your leave ' like Billy, but is just what a lover 
 should be." 
 
 " Janet, Janet ! " cried Joscelyn, reprovingly ; 
 but the laughing girl tossed her yellow curls 
 coquettishly, the exhilaration of a new conquest 
 upon her ; then suddenly hid her face on Joscelyn's 
 shoulder : — 
 
 " Joscelyn, dearest, did you ever feel a lover's 
 lips against your cheek for just one little moment ? " 
 
 And Joscelyn went suddenly as red as she, re- 
 membering that November day when Richard 
 came home. 
 
CHAPTEK XX. 
 
 joscelyn's peeil. 
 
 ♦' First time lie kissed me, he but only kissed 
 The fingers of this hand wherewith I write ; 
 And, ever since, it grew more clean and white, 
 Slow to world greetings, quick with its ' O list 1 ' 
 When the angels speak." 
 
 — Mrs. Browning. 
 
 THUS the months had come and gone, and 
 come again, until three years had passed 
 since Richard's company marched away that win- 
 ter day to join their comrades at Valley Forge. 
 Three years of warfare, and victory yet faltered 
 to remain with either standard, but wavered like 
 a fickle woman from side to side. And Joscelyn 
 held to her allegiance, wearing her scarlet bodice 
 in open rejoicing at news of an English victory, 
 and decking herself in sombre mourning when 
 tidings of the American triumph at King's Moun- 
 tain thrilled the country with an awakened hope. 
 And in these habiliments she walked the streets, 
 or sat upon her balcony, that none might be in 
 doubt as to her feelings. 
 
 " Joscelyn Cheshire be as good as a war barom- 
 eter," said Mistress Strudwick ; " one has but to 
 look at her to know whether to rejoice or to 
 
 sorrow." 
 
 204 
 
joscelyn's pekil. 205 
 
 Yainly her mother argued with the girl, show- 
 ing the danger she ran of drawing upon them both 
 the enmity of the community. 
 
 " We are but two lone women, and what could 
 we do against a mob? You go too far in this 
 matter, my daughter. An you alter not your be- 
 haviour, we shall be driven from the town, or else 
 have our house burned over our heads. Only 
 yesterday Sally Ruffin was telling your Aunt Clev- 
 ering of some threats she had heard concerning 
 you." 
 
 But Joscelyn shrugged her shoulders. " They 
 will not harm you, mother ; you are too much of 
 their party creed. And as for me, I fear them 
 not ; they will do naught more serious than to tear 
 down my royal picture-gallery from the porcii, 
 and break a few more window-panes." 
 
 And truly martial events were crowding so 
 fast upon each other that the community had no 
 time to resent the caprices of a girl. All interest 
 was now centred in the south. Greene had 
 superseded Gates ; Cowpens had been fought and 
 Tarleton sent in rout to Cornwallis, who started in 
 hot haste to chastise the victors and recover his 
 captured troopers. But Morgan threw his bat- 
 talion over the Catawba ; Greene took entire com- 
 mand, and then begun that marvellous retreat, 
 every step of which was as an American victory. 
 The pursuit was close behind. The whole country 
 held its breath at the spectacle of two great armies 
 vying against each other on almost parallel roads 
 
206 JOSCELYN CHESHIRE. 
 
 for the far-off fords of the Dan, Twenty-five, 
 even thirty miles a day they tramped it over roads 
 deep in mire that held them back as with a fiend- 
 ish purpose. It was a spectacle to stir one's blood, 
 no matter on which side the sympathies, — this 
 Titanic struggle, this heroic race. The rear-guard 
 of the pursued, and the van of the pursuer, often 
 bivouacked in sight of each other's watch-fires. 
 Petty strife was at an end ; the great principles 
 of war alone held sway, and it were hard to say in 
 which camp there was more of resolute endeavour. 
 
 The flooding rains detained Cornwallis at the 
 Catawba, and yet again at the Yadkin, giving the 
 Americans somewhat of advantage, so that Jos- 
 celyn Cheshire said in her mocking way, that the 
 " weather was supplying the deficiencies of nature 
 and making a great general out of Nathaniel 
 Greene." 
 
 " Rather is God aiding a righteous cause," Aunt 
 Clevering retorted. 
 
 Hillsboro' was in a fever of excitement during 
 those days, knowing that somewhere beyond the 
 mountains that skirted her on the west, these 
 armies, like mighty leviathans, were writhing on 
 their courses. The town lay almost in the path of 
 both, and each dav was full of rumours and contra- 
 dictions. The country people, both Whigs and 
 Tories, crowded in to learn more speedily the 
 news. The streets were thronged each day with 
 anxious men and women, asking each other ques- 
 tions and exchanging surmises. And every day 
 
joscelyn's peeil. 207 
 
 Joscelyn rode her horse from the bridge that 
 spanned the Eno on the western edge of the town 
 to the clump of boulders called the " Hen and 
 Chickens," which cropped out of a common that 
 lay high to the eastward. And always she wore 
 in her hat, with jaunty grace, a cockade of scarlet 
 ribbon ; and Tories bowed low as she passed, and 
 Whigs scowled and shrugged their shoulders, mar- 
 velling at her daring. 
 
 But at last the news came that the race was 
 done ; Greene had crossed the Dan to the safety 
 of Virginia, and a union with the reinforcements 
 hastily spared him from the northern division, 
 and Cornwallis was baffled. Disappointed, he 
 turned southward once more, and one February 
 day the vanguard rode haughtily into Hillsboro', 
 and ere night the sloping commons, flanking the 
 town to the east and northeast, were white with 
 a tent city swarming with the soldiers of the 
 king. 
 
 In the general excitement Betty ran across the 
 street and, twisting Joscelyn's apron-string the 
 while, asked, " Do you think Eus — that is, that 
 you will have any friends on Cornwallis's staff? " 
 
 " I am quite sure you will have one," answered 
 Joscelyn, with a laughing accent on the second 
 pronoun. " Mary is already in the parlour wanting 
 me to go with her and hunt him ; what message 
 shall I carry that my welcome may be sure ? " 
 
 " Oh, none ! " hastily answered Betty. Then 
 added, with a shy laugh, " Of course I shall have 
 
208 JOSCELYN CHESHIRE. 
 
 to see him and thank him for his efforts in Rich 
 ard's behalf." 
 
 "Methinks you will have to go through that 
 disagreeable ordeal. When I see him I shall 
 casually mention that I have asked you to be here 
 at five this afternoon." 
 
 But Eustace did not wait so long to hear Betty's 
 thanks. He laid no stress on his services save as 
 a pretext to. see her, and when his duties at head- 
 quarters were over he boldly presented himself at 
 Mistress Clevering's door; and Betty, blushing 
 and palpitating, came down to meet him ; and 
 seeing her thus, his heart surrendered itself anew. 
 But her mother, following close in her wake, gave 
 him no chance to say the things he longed. 
 
 "We deeply appreciate your efforts for my son. 
 Master Singleton," she said, sitting stiffly on the 
 extreme edge of her chair, as if ready to rise on 
 the instant. 
 
 "I have called this morning, madam, not to 
 receive vour thanks, for I do not deserve them: 
 but to say how sorry I was not to do more for 
 him and for you, and also to express my sincere 
 regrets over his death." 
 
 " Your regrets are misplaced ; my son still lives." 
 
 He stood up, amazed ; and the lady also rose as 
 though to bid him adieu. "Still alive? You 
 astound me, madam ; I saw his death record." 
 
 " He escaped instead of dying." 
 
 " It sounds like a miracle ; but I am glad of it." 
 He turned to Betty, but her mother had not re- 
 
josceltn's peril. 209 
 
 sumed her seat, and so be, too, stood in an awk- 
 ward hesitation. But the girl put out her hands 
 with an impulsive gesture, and he gathered them 
 both close in his. 
 
 "It was good of you — so good to go to that 
 horrible ship ! " 
 
 " I would have gone to the ends of the world to 
 serve you. Your simplest wish would be my law, 
 and I would count myself well paid with a smile 
 or one gentle word." He had forgotten her 
 mother standing there like a sphinx ; and Betty's 
 face went suddenly pale, and then as suddenly 
 reddened and dimpled, for he bent down and 
 kissed each of her hands lingeringly. 
 
 " Master Singleton ! '' The harsh tones recalled 
 him to himself. He turned to the older woman. 
 " My daughter joins with me in expressing our 
 gratitude. Since your time must be short, we will 
 no longer detain you." 
 
 Of course he went, and Betty fled to Joscelyn 
 for comfort, for her mother had said sternly : — 
 
 "We have done our duty, let the matter end 
 here ; and let me say furthermore, that to be grate- 
 ful one need not blush and dimple while an arch- 
 enemy of the country kisses one's hand." 
 
 And Betty had almost choked with confusion, 
 and while crossing the street had looked at her 
 hands with a sense of tenderness that w^as new. 
 
 " Oh, Joscelyn, I am so miserable and yet so 
 happy ! " And Joscelyn told her all the sweet 
 things Eustace had said about her at the camp, 
 
210 JOSCELYN CHESHIRE. 
 
 and sent her home as red and tremulous as a rose 
 in the sun. 
 
 There was joy among the Loyalists over the 
 coming of the Eedcoats, and consternation among 
 those whose relatives were with Greene. Corn- 
 wallis established his headquarters at the inn on 
 King Street, using the one-roomed building oppo- 
 site as his office. Here he set up the royal stand- 
 ard, and issued a proclamation to the Tories of the 
 vicinity to come to his aid. He looked for a gen- 
 eral up-rising in his favour, but he looked in vain. 
 The country folk rode into town to learn the 
 latest news, or brought their wives and daughters 
 to the commander's levees ; but most of them rode 
 home again, unconvinced of the permanency of 
 his lordship's dominion. 
 
 Joscelyn watched them wrathfuUy as they took 
 their departures, and strove by the courtesy of 
 her own manner to atone for their lack of loyalty. 
 Her house became at once the social rendezvous 
 of the newcomers, and few hours of the day went 
 by without a summons upon her knocker. Often 
 she was in the cavalcade that drew rein before 
 the general's office after a ride of inspection 
 through the camp; for with the army were several 
 Loyalist ladies who had fled from their homes to 
 their husbands when Greene began his retreat, 
 and with the Tory women of tlie neighbourhood 
 they made a goodly company. Mistress Clever- 
 ing was filled with rage when, from behind her 
 closed shutters, she saw the scarlet-coated officers 
 
joscelyn's peril. 211 
 
 alight at Joscelyn's door. Mary Singleton was 
 somewhat chary of her favours, fearing the public 
 resentment when the British should have with- 
 drawn. But Joscelyn took heed of no such con- 
 sideration, and was withal so charming and so 
 cordial that Lord Cornwallis, recalling his friend- 
 ship for her father, unbent from his customary 
 reserve, and exhibited in her parlour a courtesy of 
 bearing which was of a piece with the humanity he 
 showed upon his campaigns. Among the younger 
 officers the " Royalist Rose," as they styled her, 
 became a favourite ere the second sun went 
 down upon their coming ; so there was ever an 
 escort waiting at her door when the staff rode 
 forth to the outlying camp. 
 
 And oftener than any one else this escort was 
 Captain Barry, of the second legion. It was he 
 who stood at the door of the general's headquar- 
 ters Avhen, on that first day, Mary and Joscelyn 
 arrived to make inquiry for Eustace, and snatch- 
 ing off his hat he came out to receive them, for 
 they made a very charming picture as they 
 advanced modestly toward the entrance, piloted 
 by an orderly. The first smile from Joscelyn's 
 blue eyes did the whole thing for him. He sur- 
 rendered at once, without one effort at self-de- 
 fence ; and when he and Eustace reached her 
 veranda, having escorted the girls home, there 
 was not so much as one poor little pennant left 
 fluttering over the ramparts of his heart. From 
 that hour his comrades, when he was wanted, 
 
212 JOSCELYN CHESHIRE. 
 
 knew in whose parlour to seek him, and he never 
 failed to let Joscelyn know when there was a 
 pleasure ride or a tour of inspection planned for 
 the day. 
 
 It was for an excursion of this sort that Josce- 
 lyn dressed herself with exceeding care one after- 
 noon and, with an officer at either bridle-rein, 
 went out to see the army parade for tlie com- 
 mander's inspection. The conversation as they 
 paced along was all of the movements of a sus- 
 pected spy from Greene's host beyond the Dan. 
 
 " We cannot locate the fellow ; but certain it 
 is, the doings of our army are reported accurately 
 to the insurrectionists. Yesterday a letter was 
 discovered in a hollow stump on the mountain 
 side, left there, of course, by preconcerted ar- 
 rangement to be called for. The stump is being 
 secretly watched, but as yet no results have been 
 obtained. This is all well known and talked 
 about. Mistress Joscelyn, and you, being one of 
 us — " Barry's smile said the rest. 
 
 " Is it a townsman who has written these 
 reports, think 3^ou ? " asked the girl, going over 
 in her mind the people who might be implicated, 
 with a quick inward throb for some of her friends. 
 
 " I judge not, for there are references to the 
 writer's journey back from the Dan. Evidently 
 it is a follower of Greene who knows this coun- 
 try well. He is exceedingly artful, but his cap- 
 ture is necessarily certain, with all the precautions 
 we have taken." 
 
joscelyn's peril. 213 
 
 " And what would be his fate, if caught ? " 
 
 " A spy is shot — or ma^^hap his lordship will 
 hang him on the hill yonder, where they tell me 
 Governor Tryon swung up the traitorous Regula- 
 tors in years gone by. 'Twould be but another 
 chapter in the red history of this your Tyburn 
 Hill." 
 
 The young soldier laughed at his own allusion, 
 but Joscelyn shuddered ; for the first time she 
 seemed to fully realize the grim actualities of war. 
 Iler companions chatted on gayly, and finally she 
 forced herself to join in the conversation ; but 
 somehow they could not get away from the 
 subject of those surreptitious reports and their 
 author. 
 
 The wide upland common had been turned into 
 a parade ground, and was full of soldiers marching 
 and counter-marchino:. The e^eneral and his staff 
 were already afield and saluted the newcomers 
 as they passed on to the "lien and Chickens," 
 about which a party of spectators, chiefly ladies, 
 were already congregated. Here the officers left 
 Joscelyn with some friends, and rode away to 
 their different commands. It was some time 
 before the parade began, and in the interim there 
 was much laughing and talking around the rough 
 boulders. And here again Joscelyn heard of 
 the wary scout. 
 
 "Who are those men there to the left?" she 
 asked, by way of changing the conversation, and 
 pointed to five or six men in citizen's dress who 
 
214 JOSCELYN CHESHIRE. 
 
 were grouped apart by themselves. Some were 
 mounted ; some on foot. 
 
 " Oh, those are the Tory recruits who came in 
 this morning. They have not yet been assigned 
 to their respective commands, and so are viewing 
 the scene merely as spectators; to-morrow they 
 Avill be put in the ranks. The tall one on the 
 right was with Pyle when Lee surprised and 
 routed him. I understand he says information 
 of Pj^le's movements was sent to Lee by some one 
 within the town here — probably a Continental 
 spy." 
 
 There was more to tell ; but the parade was 
 beginning and the conversation ended, much to 
 Joscelvn's relief. It somehow unstruno: her nerves 
 to think of another hanging up on Regulators' 
 Hill. From her saddle she watched the scarlet 
 companies advance, wheel, pass directly in front 
 of the general's staff, and finally take position 
 in the long line which was thus formed across 
 the field. It was a stirring sight, and her fingers 
 relaxed their hold on the rein as she leaned for- 
 ward to w^atch every movement. Suddenly a 
 band stationed near the group struck up a lively 
 air. The unexpected blare of the trumpets startled 
 Joscelyn's horse; an upward toss of his head 
 shook the rein from her inert hand, and then 
 with the panic of fear upon him he wheeled 
 about and dashed off at a mad pace. The 
 women in the group behind screamed ; for the 
 rein was swinging about the animal's feet, and 
 
joscelyn's peril. 215 
 
 the girl in the saddle was utterly at bis mercy. 
 From the first plunge Joscelyn realized the peril 
 of her position ; for a few seconds she clung 
 terror stricken to the horn of her saddle ; then 
 she shook her foot free from the stirrup and 
 eased her knee from the pommel, for an awful 
 memory had come to her. A hundred yards 
 ahead, directly in the path of the frantic horse, 
 was a deep ditch, ragged with rocks; there the 
 race must end in death to the horse — and may- 
 hap to the rider. Her one chance was to leap 
 from the saddle. It took but a second for this 
 to flash through her mind ; but even as she turned 
 slightly in her saddle, a voice rang out sternly 
 above the braying horns and the thundering hoof- 
 beats : — 
 
 " Do not jump, on your life ! " 
 
 Her fingers closed over the saddle horn in spas- 
 modic obedience ; and then she saw that the horse 
 was running directly toward the group of men in 
 civilian dress on the little knoll, and that one of 
 them had sprung forward and waited with uplifted 
 arm the coming of the runaway. Even through 
 her terror there came a dim realization of the 
 death he was courting ; but in another instant the 
 collision came. The man was knocked aside by 
 the flying horse, but his hand had caught the rein, 
 and half dragged, half running, he kept his place 
 at the animal's head. Then his other hand, fum- 
 bling uncertainly, found the bit, and he was master 
 of the brute. Almost upon the brink of the yawn- 
 
216 JOSCELYN CHESHIRE. 
 
 ing ditch the horse ceased its plunges and stood 
 still, quivering through its whole body. The 
 other men who had followed now crowded about 
 with exclamations and inquiries. 
 
 " Will you dismount ? " asked her rescuer. 
 
 And then as she stretched out her shaking 
 hands for his assistance, she saw his face for the 
 first time. He was deathly pale, and his hat, 
 which some one had picked up, was drawn low 
 over his brow ; but the voice and the eyes were 
 Eichard Clevering's. She would have spoken his 
 name but for a quick glance of warning from 
 under his hat brim. Then a new sense of terror 
 swept over her; for, by some swift and subtle 
 instinct, it came to her that Richard was the 
 hunted spy of whom she had that day heard so 
 much. 
 
N 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 TRAPPED. 
 
 ♦' You trust a woman who puts forth 
 Her blossoms thick as summer's ? " 
 
 — Mrs. Browning. 
 
 OT a word was spoken as he lifted her to the 
 ground, and when they turned to walk back 
 to her companions, it was the tall Loyalist who 
 led her horse. She listened as in a daze to the 
 talk going on around her, answering briefly the 
 questions of the solicitous group. But the pres- 
 ence behind her was the one she felt, and yet she 
 dared not look backward until they were close 
 upon the company at the boulders ; then, lest she 
 seem ungrateful, and also with a definite purpose 
 to warn him, she turned to speak to him. He was 
 not among those who followed in the rear. She 
 breathed more freely, scarcely able to restrain a 
 cry of relief, for surely he had escaped ; and pres- 
 ently she said to the tall man : — 
 
 " Methinks I thanked not your companion suffi- 
 ciently for the service he did me. Will you bear 
 him a message of gratitude ? " 
 
 " I will speak with him as soon as the parade is 
 over." 
 
 It was best to end the matter thus, than to see 
 
 217 
 
218 JOSCELYN CHESHIRE, 
 
 him again face to face ; for she felt she dared not 
 trust her shaken nerves in another interview, lest 
 the warning she wished to convey turn into a 
 betrayal. He must have realized his danger, and 
 gone at once. 
 
 Her escape was the subject of much rejoicing ; 
 even Lord Cornwallis, to whom an account of the 
 accident was carried, sent his aide with congratu- 
 lations, and Barry came back at a lope, looking 
 like a ghost with anxiety. She heard not a half 
 of what was said, her mind was in such a tumult 
 of perplexity as to her rightful course and of 
 anxiety for her Clevering friends. Naturally her 
 companions attributed her silence and abstraction 
 to her recent fright, and gave no thought to it. 
 She was infinitely relieved when the parade was 
 over, and they were once more on the homeward 
 road. Her horse had recovered from his panic, 
 and was moving along quietly. 
 
 '' If he had to run away, why could he not have 
 given me the chance to save you ? " Barry said, 
 Avith much chagrin, longing to show his devotion 
 and gain some hold upon her thoughts. 
 
 " Perhaps he knew that with you at hand he 
 would have no chance," she answered with a 
 forced smile, dragging her mind from the dread 
 that haunted it. 
 
 It was mid-winter; the remnants of a snow- 
 storm still bleached in the sheltered places among 
 the fields, and whiter yet on the sloping sides of 
 the mountains behind which the sun had just set, 
 
TRAPPED. 219 
 
 leaving them framed and fringed with yellow 
 fire. The river at their base was hidden in its 
 banks and could only be guessed at ; but the nes- 
 tling town had caught a reflection of radiance 
 from the sunset banners flying above it, and 
 stood out like some sculptured bas-relief against 
 the downward-dropping hills. Like the fine col- 
 ours in an opal, the lights came and went, bright- 
 ened and faded. Joscelyn's pulse had begun to 
 beat normally under the spell of the ethereal 
 beauty of the scene, when suddenly far up the 
 mountain road her keen eyes descried a moving 
 figure. The trees were nude of foliage, and the 
 snow lying along the winding road was as a re- 
 flector to show up the dark moving object, which 
 for a moment was seen and then lost to sight 
 behind a clump of cedars. Was it a cow, or a 
 man on horseback ? A strange curiosity took 
 hold of the girl; she thought she alone saw it, 
 and all sorts of speculations were in her mind 
 when her reverie was rudely broken by the officer 
 on her right, 
 
 " Linsey," he said in a whisper which Joscelyn's 
 straining ears caught, at the same time lifting 
 his finger toward the mountain ; " Linsey, an I 
 mistake not, yonder goes our spy ; gallop at 
 once to Colonel Tarleton, and bid him warn his 
 scouts." 
 
 The aide touched his cap and was gone ere 
 Joscelyn's startled breath came back. 
 
 " Why, you are again all of a tremble," Barry 
 
220 JOSCELYN CHESHIRE. 
 
 said, leaning over to touch her hand, a world of 
 anxiety in his eyes. 
 
 "I — I suppose it was the sound of that other 
 horse's hoofs," she said, angry with herself for 
 her weakness. " You see I am not a soldier and 
 used, like you, to face death every day." 
 
 "Thank Heaven you are not," he answered, 
 holding one rein of her bridle with the joy of 
 a strong man protecting beautiful womanhood. 
 And thus near to her he whispered many tender 
 things in her ear, — his tense, young voice vibrant 
 with the awakened passion of his heart ; and the 
 girl's pulses stirred with a strange, sweet quiver. 
 
 So it was they rode home. There in her own 
 room she went over this whole dread matter, with 
 a womanish longing in her heart to talk to some 
 one, — to ask advice ; but her mother was too 
 timid, and a glance at Aunt Clevering's dark house 
 decided her that it would be cruel to arouse anxiety 
 there. Then Barry's manly face and frank eyes 
 came before her, and in a sudden fit of foolish 
 hysteria, she put her face in her hands and cried. 
 If she could only go to Barry ! But that would 
 have one of two effects, — it would either put him 
 on Richard's trail, or else make him false to his 
 cause by winning him to shield the fugitive. She 
 could not risk either alternative. And what was 
 true of Barry applied with equal force to Eustace. 
 She would not, if she could, tempt him, through 
 his love for Betty, to do anything that would 
 dishonour him among his fellows. And besides, 
 
TRAPPED. 221 
 
 he would not be here to-night with the company 
 she had invited, for he had said he was going 
 with the rehef guard to one of the outposts. No, 
 there was no one to counsel her ; she must think 
 and act for herself. At first two torturing ques- 
 tions tore her judgment in twain. The Spartans 
 gave up their nearest and dearest for the cause 
 of their country, and should she Avithhold the 
 identity of this man who had no claim of blood 
 upon her, and who carried perhaps to the king's 
 enemies information that would defeat the cause ? 
 Should she say, " I know him " ; or should she 
 keep her peace and let him go his way ? Then she 
 realized that her knowledge was too meagre to be 
 of any benefit ; his name was all she could sur- 
 render, and that were nothing to his pursuers, who 
 knew more than she of his work and movements. 
 And besides, there were Betty and Aunt Clever- 
 ing and Eichard himself. No, she could not play 
 the part of the Spartan ; she wanted to be of use 
 to her cause, but she was keeping back no treason- 
 able knowledge. And with this comforting as- 
 surance, she put the matter aside and dressed 
 herself for the evening, lacing the brocade over 
 the brilliant petticoat with a smile to think what 
 Barry would say. Not for a moment did she 
 believe Richard would be caught; he had the 
 start, and he knew the country much better than 
 his pursuers, and would outstrip them in the race. 
 
 It was a brilliant company that assembled in 
 her drawing-room that night, — handsome women 
 
222 JOSCELTN CHESHIRE. 
 
 and splendid oflBcers, and even Cornwallis himself, 
 — all come to enjoy her hospitality and to inquire 
 concerning her accident of the afternoon. 
 
 " Asked you the name of this brave fellow who 
 saved you ? " inquired the commander-in-chief, 
 with a smile. " Methinks he should be promoted 
 for so signal a service to his Majesty's loyal 
 subject." 
 
 " Nay, your lordship, I asked it not," Joscelyn 
 answered steadily, 
 
 "'Twas the fright made her seem so ungrate- 
 ful," put in her mother. 
 
 " And small wonder. Mistress Cheshire, for 
 she was in dire straits. But 'tis of no conse- 
 quence ; the name can be easily ascertained, and I 
 shall myself make the inquiries. Half my staff 
 are mad with jealousy at his good fortune, and 
 methinks I myself envy him a bit the sweet 
 thanks he will receive. ISTow if Mistress Jos- 
 celyn's nerves be not too much shaken, we will 
 have some music." 
 
 So the spinet was opened ; and the merriment 
 began and went on far into the night, while the 
 Cleverings over the way fretted behind their 
 closed doors in bitter resentment of Joscelvn's 
 conduct. 
 
 " Why, she is actually playing at cards ! " cried 
 Betty, who was secretly on the lookout, for the 
 opposite shutters had not been closed nor the cur- 
 tains drawn, so the inmates of the lighted room 
 were in plain view. " Lord Cornwallis is her 
 
TRAPPED. 223 
 
 partner, but that Captain Barry sits beside her 
 and whispers behind her cards. Mary Singleton 
 is at the other table, but I do not see — " her 
 voice trailed off into silence, for she never men- 
 tioned Eustace's name to her mother. 
 
 Meanwhile Joscelj^n was all unconscious and 
 unmindful of this surveillance and, recovering 
 from her fright, her spirits rose hourly until she 
 had quite regained her accustomed manner. It 
 was not until something after ten o'clock that an 
 interruption befell their pleasure-taking. Then 
 suddenly there came the sound of galloping hoofs 
 down the stony street ; many voices shouted and 
 responded, a pistol shot rang out, and from some- 
 w^here under the darkness a guttural drum growled 
 out its warning. Every man in the room was on 
 his feet in an instant, and hands snatched for hats 
 and weapons. 
 
 " It is a night surprise ! " cried a dozen voices ; 
 but even at that moment the door was thrown 
 open, and an orderly, bowing low, cried out to the 
 general that the noise was being made by his own 
 men, who had turned a spy back from the moun- 
 tains, and chased him into the town where he was 
 as a rat in a trap, and must immediately be taken. 
 Every heart in the room ceased its mad beating 
 with relief at this news — every heart but one. 
 Joscelyn could feel hers pounding against her 
 ribs, and involuntarily she moved to the window 
 and looked at the dark house opposite, shuddering 
 as she thought of the grief so soon to enter there. 
 
224 JOSCELTN CHESHIRE. 
 
 In ten minutes the hue and cry had swept down 
 the street, and only faint echoes came back upon 
 the wind. The whole town was astir, and Jos- 
 celyn's guests lingered a few minutes on the 
 veranda, questioning those who came and went. 
 
 " Yes, he went straight down this street, riding 
 like one possessed," said one man to Barry. 
 
 " He has quit his horse, and the guard have 
 captured it," cried out a messenger a moment 
 later. 
 
 " Ah, well ; then will they soon have the man 
 too, even though they search every house, barn, 
 and hen-coop in the town ; Colonel Tarleton 
 does nothing by halves," laughed his lordship. 
 " Come, Mistress Cheshire, let us back to our 
 game ; ere we end it, the fellow "will be in the 
 toils." 
 
 They went slowly back into the house, Jos- 
 celyn striving to steady her nerves by long, deep 
 breaths ; but as they drew their chairs again 
 about the tables, there came from the story above 
 a crash as of breaking chinaware. Everybody 
 looked up expectant, and Mistress Cheshire rose. 
 
 " I will go," cried Joscelyn, glad to escape, and 
 pushing her mother gently back into her chair. 
 " 'Tis no doubt that troublesome cat again ; he 
 broke one of my flower jars last week." She 
 tripped upstairs, calling back to his lordship to 
 deal and have the hands ready for she would be 
 absent only a moment. 
 
 In the upper hall all was silence and semi-dark- 
 
TRAPPED. 225 
 
 ness. She went first to her own room, pausing 
 just long enough to press her hands hard upon 
 her temples before passing from it to her mother's, 
 calling the cat the while very softly. A fire of 
 logs burned in her mother's fireplace, so that she 
 wondered at the cold breath of air that smote her 
 as she entered ; then she started, — a back window 
 was open and the pot of plants which had stood 
 upon the ledge lay shattered on the floor. A 
 swift annoyance flashed upon her at the maid's 
 neglect, so that she went forward and closed the 
 sash with a spirited promptness. Picking up a 
 bit of the broken shard, and facing about from the 
 window in search of the cat, she suddenly became 
 aware of a man's figure in the shadowy corner 
 opposite. Instinctively she opened her mouth for 
 a nervous cry, but with an imperative gesture for 
 silence, he stepped forward, and even in the dim 
 light she knew it was Richard Clevering. The 
 scream died upon her lips, and for a moment the 
 objects in the room spun before her. 
 
 "You — you?^'' and even in whispering her 
 voice was strained and shaken. 
 
 " Yes ; it was this or death — they had run me 
 to the wall." 
 
 "But the house is full of British soldiers — 
 Lord Cornwallis and his whole staff — " 
 
 " So much the better ; the place will be above 
 suspicion." 
 
 " Mistress Joscelyn, Mistress Joscelyn 1 " cried 
 a dozen voices from below, while chairs were 
 
226 JOSCELYN CHESHIRE. 
 
 being pushed about, and some one struck a few 
 notes on the spinet, 
 
 " And I myself, sir, am a true Loyalist and can- 
 not harbour — " 
 
 There was a footstep on the stair. "Mistress 
 Joscelyn, we be coming up to help you catch the 
 cat ! " cried Barry's voice. 
 
 Richard sprang toward her, " My God, Jos- 
 celyn ! you will not give me up like that ? " 
 
 But the steps were halfway up the stair, and 
 she was already turning the knob of the door, her 
 face like marble in the leaping firelight. 
 
'"MV GOU, JOSCKLYN, VOU WILL NOT GIVB ME Uf LIKE THAT 1' " 
 
CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 " SEAECH MY LADy's WAEDROBE." 
 
 " Sweetheart ? not she whose voice was music-sweet, 
 Whose face loaned language to melodious prayer ; 
 Sweetheart I called her. — When did she repeat 
 Sweet to one hope or heart to one despair ? " 
 
 — Cawein. 
 
 rilO the man crouching behind the door which 
 -"- Joscelyn had left open, the minute it took 
 her to traverse the hall and gain the head of the 
 stairs at the far end, seemed a lifetime. Even in 
 his dire peril the thought of a bygone day came 
 back to him — " loyal, though a Loyalist," he had 
 said of her, and had believed it. "What a sweet- 
 heart to have coddled in one's thoughts and 
 dreamed of, waking and sleeping, — this girl who 
 w^ould in cold blood hand him over to death 
 because of a fancied duty ! Escape by the w^ay 
 he came was impossible ; he could onl}' wait here 
 and sell his life at the highest price. Ay, there 
 should be left in this room a memory that would 
 exile her from it forever; the blood that had beat 
 for her and w^hich she had betraved, should redden 
 her floor and stain the dainty things she loved. 
 
 His sword had been thrown away when he 
 quitted his horse, since it cumbered his flight ; but 
 
 227 
 
228 JOSCELYN CHESHIRE. 
 
 his pistols and dirk were still upon hira, and he 
 made ready for their use. Then through the 
 crevice of the hinge, he beheld Joscelyn as she 
 faced about in the brighter light at the head of 
 the stairs, and the weapon well-nigh slipped from 
 his hand as he saw her hold up the bit of shard 
 she still carried, and say, with a sraile, to those 
 below : — 
 
 " 'Tis not worth while vour coming'. "What 
 need to waste time on the senseless offender when 
 the offence is beyond repair? My ver}^ last 
 flowering almond is a hopeless wreck, and I had 
 nursed it with such care ! " She ended with a 
 sigh and a pretty pout, and went slowly down the 
 stair out of Richard's sight ; but the voices from 
 below reached him distinctly, so that he heard the 
 officers' condolences and her laughing replies. 
 Great drops of perspiration broke out upon his 
 brow as the joN'ous truth dawned fully upon him. 
 
 She did not intend to betray his presence in the 
 house to the scarlet-coated bloodhounds who 
 would tear him limb from limb ! 
 
 How could he ever have mistrusted her, this one 
 woman whom he had loved with the passion of youth 
 and of manhood ? He sank to a sitting posture 
 upon the floor, propping himself against the wall, 
 for he was desperately weary with the long, hard 
 chase, and this relief was as the opening of Para- 
 dise before his aching eyes. His limbs relaxed ; 
 but his ears were strained to catch every sound 
 that came up the stairway. The game of cards 
 
"search my lady's wardrobe." 229 
 
 had been renewed, and the merriment was at its 
 height, when twenty minutes later there was again 
 a commotion in the street and a loud summons 
 at the door. 
 
 "May it please your lordship," said Tarleton's 
 voice, " the fellow hath give us the slip and is in 
 hiding with some of his sympathizers. We wish a 
 permit to search the houses in this neighbourhood, 
 for hereabouts he must be, since he was seen last 
 at j^onder corner." 
 
 There arose a perfect Babel of voices, out of 
 which Eichard could make nothing clearly ; but 
 he knew the permit was given, for in a few 
 minutes Tarleton opened the street-door, and 
 ordered his men to begin the search 'at the house 
 on the lower corner, and proceed thence up the 
 street, missing no dwelling. Every other street 
 and alley in the town had been sentinelled, so he 
 assured Cornwallis. 
 
 The soldiers at the door dispersed, and a breath- 
 less silence filled the house. Eichard dared not 
 move lest his stiff joints pop, or his boots creak 
 and betray him. He knew flight was impossible ; 
 for there was a stamping of horses in the rear 
 court, proving that the house was surrounded. It 
 were wiser to wait and face the fate that came to 
 him, than go out to meet it on the way. 
 
 The minutes that followed seemed interminable. 
 He felt that his doom was sealed, and then there 
 came upon him an overmastering desire to hear 
 Joscelyn's voice once more. Why did she not 
 
230 JOSCELYN CHESHIRE. 
 
 come to him on some feigned pretext or other ? 
 Surely she must know how he suffered ! Death were 
 not so hard to meet, if he could but first hold 
 her in his arms and hear her say some tender word. 
 
 Then the noise in the street grew louder, and 
 he knew that the search was drawling near. His 
 nerves were strained to tautness, when presently 
 he heard the party stop in the street below, and a 
 voice downstairs cried out gayly : — 
 
 " They be going to call upon your kinsfolk, the 
 Cleverings, Mistress Joscelyn. Let us out to the 
 balcony and see the fun." 
 
 In the confusion of scraping chairs and open- 
 ing doors, Richard got to his feet. The cold and 
 weariness in his limbs were forgotten in anxiety 
 for his mother. A-tiptoe he crossed the room in 
 the shadow of the furniture and gained Joscelj^n's 
 front window,- — that window out of which he had 
 seen her lean in her scarlet bodice the day he 
 marched away so long ago. It was an easy thing 
 to hide himself in the folds of the heavy curtains 
 which had been drawn for the night ; and thus 
 concealed, to watch, through a crescent slit in 
 the blind, the scene below, for the veranda was 
 open with no roof to intervene. 
 
 It was full moon, and the figures in the street, 
 twenty men-at-arms, were plainly visible. Three 
 of these passed silently to the rear of his mother's 
 house, while the others drew up in line before the 
 door. Then the leader smote the panels until they 
 rang like a drum. Twice was the summons re- 
 
"search my lady's wakdeobe." 231 
 
 peated ere a voice from an upper window demanded 
 what might be the matter. 
 
 " Matter enough that I knock," replied the man, 
 so insolently that Richard's blood took fire, for 
 every word could be distinctly heard from his 
 coign of vantage. 
 
 " Nay, we be but two lone women in this house, 
 and we open not but to the proper authorities." 
 
 " Well, and we be the authorities," answered 
 the man less rudely, for there was that in Mistress 
 Clevering's voice that brought him to his senses, 
 "We have here an order from the commander-in- 
 chief to search this house for a rebel spy. Open 
 the door and read the writ for yourself." 
 
 The window above was closed, and presently 
 the click of the lock was heard, and then the 
 door opened partially and Mistress Clevering, 
 candle in hand, stood before them. Betty cowered 
 behind like a frightened child. 
 
 " No one is here save my daughter and myself ; 
 to search the house were wasted time." And in 
 her heart, Joscelyn thanked Heaven she could speak 
 thus truly ; but the soldier said brusquely : — 
 
 " We have judged the matter differently ; lead 
 the way, and see to it that you open every door. 
 We will put up with no deception." 
 
 As they passed into the house, Joscelyn's voice 
 from over the way cried out shrilly, " Neglect not 
 to search the closet by the attic chimney ; 'tis just 
 of a size to hold a man, and perchance contains 
 him whom you seek." 
 
232 JOSCELTN CHESHIRE. 
 
 Mistress Clevering turned angrily toward the 
 door as though she would answ^er, but the sol- 
 diers urged her on, and so it was Betty who 
 called back : — 
 
 " That is neighbourly ! Tell all you know 
 about your best friends, ' Mistress Ingrate ; we 
 have naught to fear." 
 
 At this Joscelyn laughed loudly, but to Richard 
 the laugh was more hysterical than mirthful, like 
 one under a great nervous strain. He felt his 
 hands involuntarily groping for his pistols, as the 
 opposite liglit flashed from window to window 
 and he knew his mother w^as being ordered about 
 by those insolent Redcoats. The candle lingered 
 longest in the attic ; but at last it descended, and 
 soon the disappointed soldiers stood in the street 
 empty handed. Tarleton was furious and swore 
 a great oath, but the soldiers protested they had 
 overlooked no nook or corner where a man might 
 conceal himself. 
 
 " 'Tis a bootless errand, sir ; unless, indeed, the 
 man be in this house," said Tarleton, riding up to 
 Joscelyn's door. " What say you, shall we search 
 here also ? " 
 
 Upstairs Richard's heart stood still, while down 
 below Joscelj'n's head swam. Then her laugh 
 rippled out mockingly. 
 
 " Truly, your lordship, that is a reflection upon 
 you and those of your gallant ofiicers who have 
 done me the honour to spend the evening under 
 my roof ! I pray you, gentlemen all, turn your 
 
"search my lady's wakdeobe." 233 
 
 pockets wrong side out that Colonel Tarleton 
 may be sure you have not hidden his spy." 
 
 "I jest not, mistress," answered Tarleton, who 
 owed her a grudge in that she had manifested 
 much personal dislike to himself. " What says 
 your lordship?" 
 
 Cornwallis started to reply, and then hesitated ; 
 whereupon Joscelyn broke in haughtily : — 
 
 " An your lordship doubts my loj'alty, pray 
 let the search proceed — the doors are open." 
 
 " Ay, search ; and fail not to look in my Lady 
 Ingrate's wardrobe ; 'tis just of a size to hold a 
 man," came with a scornful laugh from over the 
 way ; for Betty was still at her door, and the 
 street was not so wide but that the opposite 
 voices reached her clearly. 
 
 " Of course," said Joscelyn, with the same 
 haughty dignity ; " search the wardrobe b}'- all 
 means ; here are the keys." She threw the bunch 
 at Tarleton's feet, calling to her mother to do the 
 same, and then walked into the hall, her head up 
 and her eyes aglow. Richard could not see her, 
 and so ground his teeth in an impotent rage that 
 she would thus tamely yield him up. But the 
 next moment he guessed her purpose, realizing 
 this was her surest way to avert suspicion, and 
 he blessed her under his breath. If the}'^ found 
 him, they should never know that she had for a 
 moment connived at his concealment. 
 
 Tarleton stooped to pick up the keys, but Corn- 
 wallis interposed. 
 
234 JOSCELYN CHESHIRE. 
 
 "Nay, sir; to search this house would be an 
 affront to so loyal a subject as Mistress Joscelyn. 
 Besides, the idea that the miscreant is hiding here 
 is preposterous. He must have seen us through 
 the windows, and to enter would have been to 
 rush into the lion's jaws. Spies as a rule are wise 
 men : not the fools of an army. Search the stable 
 if you will, leave a guard in the alley ; but enter 
 not the house. And now, Mistress Cheshire, I see 
 the ladies are going; we will also withdraw after 
 returning thanks to you and your daughter for 
 your charming hospitality." 
 
 Richard clutched at the window-frame to steady 
 himself as he realized the present peril had passed. 
 What a glorious girl Joscelyn was, for all her Tory- 
 ism and scoffing ! 
 
 Joscelyn stood at the door, courtesying to her 
 departing guests, — the picture of dainty, decorous 
 hospitality. As Tarleton lifted his hat sullenly, 
 she looked him straight in the eyes, and said 
 graciously : — 
 
 "I will leave this door unbolted, that your sen- 
 try may come in and warm himself by the fire in 
 the rear room as the night grows chilly." 
 
 To doubt her after that were impossible ; and he 
 excused his former brusqueness by saying a sol- 
 dier's duty was oftentimes most displeasing to 
 himself. She accepted the apology with a smile, 
 and stood in the door until thev all, even Barrv, 
 who was always tardy over his leave-taking, had 
 gotten to horse ; and then with a final good night, 
 
" SEARCH MY LADy's WAEDROBE." 235 
 
 she shut them out. She did not stop in the hall, 
 but went straight on to the stair, saying to her 
 mother as she ran up : — 
 
 " Will you see to the lights down here, mother ? 
 I will go up and look after your fire." 
 
 This was a reversal of the usual order of things, 
 but her mother was too used to her caprices to 
 take any notice. In the room above, Richard had 
 already replenished the fire, and was waiting for 
 her on the rug with eager, outstretched arms. 
 
 " Joscelyn ! " he cried ; but she silenced him 
 with a gesture. 
 
 "Quick — off with your boots — mother must 
 not know ; there will be further inquiry to-morrow, 
 and for very anxiety she could not keep the secret. 
 Now, come." In the hall she leaned over the 
 banister to ask her mother to leave something on 
 the table for the sentrv to eat ; and when the old 
 lady was gone back to the pantry, Joscelyn un- 
 locked the door of the shed-like attic at the rear 
 of the hall, and giving Richard the lighted candle 
 she held, she pushed him in. " There are plenty 
 of blankets on the shelves at the far end — make 
 your bed on a pile of carpet that is behind the 
 cedar chest." 
 
 " But, Joscelyn — " 
 
 " H-u-s-h, not so loud. As you know, the attic 
 has no windows, so j^our candle cannot be seen 
 outside. There is mother — I will come back if 
 I can." 
 
 She was gone, and he knew that she had locked 
 
236 JOSCELYN CHESHIRE. 
 
 the door from without. Along with his sense oi 
 relief came an exquisite joy that he was her pris- 
 oner, that it was she who must minister to him, — 
 she to whom he owed his life. It was some min- 
 utes before he remembered her injunction and set 
 to work to make himself comfortable. He left 
 the candle on the floor beside his boots and, wrap- 
 ping himself in the blankets, found a cosey resting- 
 place behind the big cedar chest. What thoughts 
 and visions crowded his mind as he lay there under 
 the spider-hung rafters that dropped almost to his 
 head ! Five days before he had quitted his com- 
 mand — impelled by a thirsty desire to see 
 Joscelyn's face — to undertake the dangerous mis- 
 sion of his chief, and ascertain Cornwallis's actual 
 strength. Unable to learn anything definite by 
 hearsay, and catching idle rumours of Joscelyn's 
 popularity among the English officers, the daring 
 design had come to him to play the part of a 
 Loyalist seeking enlistment in the British army, 
 trustino: to what little disguise he could add to his 
 own altered looks to shield him. Following out 
 this plan, and gaining at the parade all the knowl- 
 edge necessary, he had stolen from the field, and 
 would have effected his escape had he but taken 
 the longer bridle-path around the mountain, rather 
 than the shorter one directly over it. Joscelyn's 
 accident had delayed him somewhat, and trusting 
 to his citizen's dress, and the preoccupation of the 
 whole force at the parade, he had thought to be 
 beyond sight or pursuit ere the review was over. 
 
" SEARCH MY LADy's WAEDEOBE." 237 
 
 That his reckoning failed, has been already shown. 
 Tarleton's henchmen, set on by Linsey, had 
 headed him off and driven him back into the town. 
 Passed through the peril, and strong man that he 
 was, he yet shuddered as he thought how near to 
 death he had been when he leaped from his horse 
 at the corner yonder, and with a fierce cut sent the 
 animal as a decoy down the dark adjacent street, 
 while he plunged into the shadowy alley. At 
 Mistress Cheshire's rear gate he had recognized 
 his bearings, and entering without hesitation, he 
 had crossed the yard, and by means of a grape- 
 trellis climbed to the roof of the rear porch. To 
 open the window was not difficult, but in enter- 
 ing he had upset that flower jar and betrayed his 
 presence. He had heard the talk and laughter as 
 he climbed up, and guessed who Joscelyn's guests 
 were ; but he trusted to her mother to hide him. 
 How infinitely sweeter it was to know that, instead, 
 it was her own hand that had saved him. 
 
 For nearly an hour he lay thus, stretched at full 
 length upon the restful pallet. Then, all at once, 
 although he was conscious of no sound, he felt 
 that she had come. Rising hastily, he met her as 
 she slipped through the half-opened door. She 
 shaded her eyes for a moment to concentrate the 
 light, the candle was so dim ; then crossing over 
 to the chest, she placed on it a platter of food and 
 a pitcher of milk. 
 
 " You must be half famished ; " and although 
 but a whisper, her voice was studiously polite. 
 
238 JOSCELYN CHESHIKE. 
 
 " I have brought you ample supply ; for it may be 
 late ere you get your breakfast in the morning, 
 seeing I have to smuggle it to you." 
 
 Never had he seen her so beautiful. The shin- 
 ing brocade set off every curve of her figure ; under 
 the lace of her bodice her bosom rose and fell with 
 suppressed excitement, and her eyes were full of 
 the starry lights he knew so well. And yet there 
 was something about her that Treld in check the 
 fire that leaped through his pulses. For the first 
 time as he gazed thus upon her, he realized fully 
 the menace he had brought upon her. 
 
 " Joscelyn, I should never have come here." 
 
 " It was, as you said, your only chance." 
 
 " I should not have taken that chance ; rather I 
 should have died beside my horse before bringing 
 this danger to you." 
 
 " Hush ! they will not harm me." Her head 
 went up w^ith a little triumphant fling as she said 
 this ; for she w^as thinking of Barry, and how, if 
 detection came, he would surelv save her. 
 
 "You do not know the penalty one pays for 
 harbouring a spy ; I will go this very night and 
 free you from this menace." 
 
 " i^To, no," was the hasty answer. " "We should 
 both be undone — Tarleton's men will watch the 
 house all night. To-morrow night perchance, or 
 the night after ; but not to-night. You are safe 
 here for the present, for his lordship's orders will 
 be obeved." 
 
 He came close to her, so close that he saw the 
 
"search my lady's wardrobe." 239 
 
 pallor of her face, and the perfume of her dress 
 rose with a sweet intoxication to his nostrils. 
 " Joscelyn, is it for love of me that you have 
 done this thing?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 " For what, then ? " 
 
 "For sake of our old comradeship and for 
 Betty. Besides, you saved my life this after- 
 noon — a return of favours leaves no burden of 
 obligation on either of us." 
 
 " Nay ; you risk more for me than I did for you." 
 
 She shrugged her shoulders. "The accounts 
 balance." Then glancing about solicitously, she 
 added, " I would I could make you more comfort- 
 able, but our first care must be to avert suspicion. 
 Good night." 
 
 She was moving to the door, but he caught her 
 wrists just below the hanging lace of her sleeve ; 
 and holding her thus, he told her in a few graphic 
 sentences all his thoughts as he had rested under 
 the rafters behind the chest — the reason and the 
 history of his scouting venture, the mental trysts 
 he had held with her so often. All the intensity 
 of his strong nature went into that appeal ; it 
 seemed as if a heart of ice must have melted in it ; 
 and for a moment her head did droop and her 
 hands tremble, then she shrugged her gleaming 
 shoulders again, saying : — 
 
 " It had certainly been more soldier-like to have 
 come for love of your cause, rather than for sake 
 of a girl's eyes." 
 
240 joscELYisr Cheshire. 
 
 " For sake of both did I come." 
 
 "A spy—" 
 
 But she got no further ; something in her tone 
 stung him to the quick. " You need not speak 
 so disparagingly. A spy's work may not be pleas- 
 ant, but it is absolutely necessary. Without the 
 information he sends his general, false steps might 
 be taken and hundreds of lives needlessly sacri- 
 ficed. A spy has a humane as well as a danger- 
 ous mission." 
 
 " 'Tis well you think so highly of your calling. 
 Good night again," 
 
 " Joscelyn, do not leave me thus ; this day we 
 have each looked into the eyes of death — let us 
 at least part as friends." 
 
 She turned back, her face dimpling with a smile 
 that was like a gleam of sunshine, " Good night, 
 Eichard, and a safe awakening." 
 
 Then she was gone; and he threw himself down 
 to sleep the sleep of utter weariness. 
 
 Joscelyn sat on the rug before her almost 
 burned-out fire, trying to disengage the attic key 
 from the big bunch her mother habitually wore 
 at her belt, and thinking rapidly of the events of 
 the day. She knew that the end had not been 
 reached, but she was determined to brave it out ; 
 there was nothing else to do, — there had been 
 nothing else from the first. And she must stand 
 alone. Fresh inquiry would be instituted to-mor- 
 row, and her mother's veracity could not stand 
 the strain to which it might be put if she knew 
 
"search my lady's wabdrobe." 241 
 
 all. Neither could the secret be shared with Aunt 
 Clevering, for her mother-heart might betray its 
 anxiety, and so would another family be involved. 
 She must bear the burden herself; must evade, 
 pretend, even lie, if need be, to keep the knowl- 
 edge from any one else. The man had fled to her 
 for sanctuary ; which were worse, she asked her- 
 self bitterly, to soil her lips with an untruth, or her 
 hands with a betrayal, a breach of trust and of 
 hospitality ? From Betty and Aunt Clevering 
 she could expect no mercy of neglect, because of 
 that hasty speech about the attic closet. It had 
 been made thoughtlesslv, to establish her own 
 footing more securely by a great show of loyalty ; 
 but would, she knew, act as a two-edged sword, 
 cutting away part of her safety. To-morrow she 
 w^ould not dare leave the house all day lest some- 
 thing terrible transpire in her absence ; she must 
 feign some pretext for staying in-doors — per- 
 chance a headache from the effects of her fright. 
 
 And then having planned her course fully and 
 carefully, woman-like she began to cry tempestu- 
 ously at the position in which she found herself ; 
 blaming with equally unreasoning impatience the 
 band, Eichard, and her horse for her predicament. 
 If she were only a Whig, doing this thing for her 
 country, or else if she were but in love with Eich- 
 ard, how beautiful, how romantic, it would all be ! 
 But — but — 
 
 And even after she was in bed, she went on sob- 
 bing softly to herself. 
 
CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 IN takleton's toils. 
 
 " The brave man is not he who feels no fear, 
 For that were stupid and irrational ; 
 But he whose noble soul its fear subdues, 
 And bravely dares the danger nature shrinks from." 
 
 — Joanna Baillie. 
 
 AFTER a troubled sleep that brought little 
 rest, Joscelyn opened her eyes on what she 
 supposed would be a day of danger, — certainly a 
 day of small deceptions. But in one way fortune 
 favoured her; the morning was cold and raw, with 
 now and then a flurry of snow, so she would have 
 no occasion to leave the house, and need worry 
 over no excuse for biding at home. But the early 
 hours were full of quavers and starts ; the least 
 quick noise sent her blood racing through its 
 channels. Her first real fright came when the 
 guard in the back yard discovered bits of fresh 
 mud upon the trellis of the porch. 
 
 " 'Tis nothing," she said, with a touch of asper- 
 ity when he showed it to her ; " the maid threw a 
 broken flower pot from the upper window, and 
 this earth was no doubt spilled out as it fell — 
 there are the remnants of the jar by the fence." 
 
 The guard bowed and withdrew ; but there was 
 a supercilious smile on his face, which filled her 
 
 242 
 
IN takleton's toils. 243 
 
 with nervous apprehension. In a hasty resent- 
 ment that the man perhaps guessed at her duplic- 
 ity, she could have struck him. 
 
 And yet a second time was she thrown into 
 consternation, when her mother discovered the 
 loss of the attic key from her bunch. 
 
 " Oh, it is not lost ! I broke the string yester- 
 day night, and doubtless I missed this one when 
 I strung them up again. It is in my room this 
 minute, I dare swear. Is there aught you need 
 in the attic now?" 
 
 " Na}^, I but feared the key was lost." 
 
 " Well, let me first finish this round of knitting 
 and I will hunt it. Mother," she went on, after 
 a pause, during which she picked up her stitches 
 industriousl}', " had you not better go over and 
 make ra}' peace with Aunt Clevering? She was 
 most angry with me last night." 
 
 " And good cause she had, Joscelyn ; methinks 
 I never heard any one make so rude a speech. 
 What put you to it ? " 
 
 " In faith, mother, I cannot tell. It was cruel 
 and unwarranted, and you may tell her I say so, 
 and that I am bitterly sorr3^ Make any excuse 
 you please, only make it at once, for you know 
 Aunt Clevering's displeasure grows like a mush- 
 room when left to itself." 
 
 She had small hope that her aunt would be 
 appeased, but she wanted her mother out of the 
 way that she might carry her prisoner something 
 to eat. It w'as close upon one o'clock, and not a 
 
244 JOSCELYN CHESHIRE. 
 
 morsel had she been able to give him. She drew 
 the bolt of the front door after her mother, who 
 was nothing loath to go upon this peace errand ; 
 and hurrying to the dining room, made hasty 
 preparation to relieve Richard's needs. She was 
 not used to doing things upon the sly, and her 
 heart was in hot rebellion that she must stoop to 
 such a thing among her own servants. There 
 were hard lines of determination about her mouth, 
 but the hands that sliced the meat and buttered 
 the bread shook a little. Even wlien on the stair, 
 she turned back, startled by a sound in the hall ; 
 but it was only the cat romping with her little 
 ones, and so once more she went on. Softly she 
 unlocked the attic door, and stepped in. The 
 room was in partial twilight, having no window, 
 but she saw Richard coming to meet her. 
 
 "ISTo May-day sunshine w^as ever half so wel- 
 come," he whispered, taking her hand in both 
 of his. "Tell me how matters have gone this 
 morning. I have fretted myself into a fever lest 
 I bring some annoyance upon you. And now 
 you must promise me that if discovery comes, 
 you will forswear all knowledge of my being 
 here. I shall clfiim that the key was in the lock, 
 and after I was inside, some one came and closed 
 the door. Thus will you be free from blame." 
 
 " And think you any one will believe so flimsy 
 a story? Nay, the only safety for either of us 
 lies in your not being discovered. I understand 
 that Tarleton is furious over his failure, and has 
 
IN tableton's toils. 245 
 
 already ordered a new search. I rely upon ray 
 own loyalty, and upon his lordship's order for our 
 exemption. But if the worst comes, we must be 
 prepared." 
 
 "I am." He touched his pistols and drew him- 
 self up until his magnificent figure was at perfect 
 pose. " I shall die, Joscelyn, but like a soldier ; not 
 on the gallows." 
 
 She shuddered, and her eyes lost their coldness ; 
 the woman in her was touched by his cool courage 
 in face of such a danger. 
 
 " Yes," she said, with a hesitating gentleness, 
 " but I pray it come not to that. By being pre- 
 pared I meant we must leave no tell-tale traces 
 here such as these," — she pointed to the platter and 
 pitcher. " I shall take these away ; your dinner 
 I have brought in this bit of paper — leave no 
 crumbs when you have finished. This jug con- 
 tains water and this bottle wine ; stand them in 
 that corner with those empty bottles, and they 
 will attract no attention." 
 
 " It shall be done, Joscelvn." 
 
 '•' Watch under the door ; if there is an order 
 given to search the house, I will try and warn 
 3'ou by a note." 
 
 "Joscelyn, desperate as I was, I should have 
 sought some other shelter, had I not thought your 
 loyalty would put your house beyond the shadow 
 of suspicion. "Will you not say j^ou forgive me 
 before you go ? We may never meet again." 
 
 " There is nothing to forgive ; you but put it 
 
246 JOSCELYN CHESHIRE. 
 
 in my power to requite an obligation," she said 
 very gently. 
 
 "That is scarce a pardon. I would have you 
 speak as though the forgiveness came from your 
 heart, rather than from your head. Between us 
 there can be no question of a debt ; my love 
 makes me your bondservant, and as such my 
 service is yours rightfully." 
 
 " Your name is not known," she broke in has- 
 tily, " but I understand it is suspected that my 
 rescuer of yesterday is the escaped spy." 
 
 " That accounts for Tarleton's doubt of you. 
 Joscelyn, I will not stay here a moment longer 
 and expose you thus. My mother's house has 
 already been searched — " 
 
 " And will be again ere nightfall. "What you 
 propose is folly, — worse than folly ; it is death to 
 you and betrayal to me. There are double guards 
 everywhere, for Colonel Tarleton is as much po- 
 liceman as soldier. You could not leave this 
 house and cross the street alive ! " 
 
 "Then what must I do?" 
 
 "Why, in sooth, since you cannot go, you must 
 remain." There was just a touch in her voice 
 and smile which made him think of their early 
 days of quarrel and make-up. It was such an in- 
 toxicating change from her manner of a moment 
 ago that he lost his head and caught her for a 
 moment in his strong arms. But she broke away, 
 and gathering up the pitcher and platter prepared 
 to go. 
 
m takleton's toils. 247 
 
 " There is just one thing," she said hesitatingly, 
 "your despatches — ?" He tapped his forehead. 
 Again she paused irresolutely, the colour coming 
 and going in her delicate cheeks. " I am saving 
 you, not your despatches ; do you understand ? " 
 
 " You do not mean — ? " 
 
 " Yes, I mean that Greene must learn nothing 
 from you if you escape." 
 
 But his hand was over her mouth before she 
 could go on. " You cannot make a request so 
 unworthy of you and of me ! Think you for one 
 instant that I would buy my safety with the in- 
 formation that may save my comrades ? No, no, 
 Joscelyn dear ; you did not ask such a thing of 
 me, for you would not dishonour me, although 
 you say you do not love me. I make no such 
 bargain with you ; either I carry my despatches 
 to my general, or I walk out of your house this 
 minute, and let the first ball that can hit me put 
 an end to my life." 
 
 His hand was on the door, but she dragged him 
 back ; her face like ashes. " No, no, Richard ; I 
 will not ask it — indeed, I will not!" 
 
 Silently he kissed the hand upon his sleeve, 
 and as they stood thus looking into each other's 
 eyes, there came a sharp rapping at the door 
 below. She went deathly pale for a moment, 
 then waving him back, she stepped out into the 
 hallway. 
 
 " It is only mother," she said, after listening a 
 moment ; " she has been over to Aunt Clevering's 
 
248 JOSCELTN CHESHIRE. 
 
 to make my peace for last night's rudeness. "What 
 I said was in desperation ; I know not what evil 
 genius put me to it." 
 
 He took her hand reverently for a moment. 
 "'Twas no evil genius, but a brave spirit of self- 
 sacrifice." 
 
 She locked the door, and went down the stair 
 singing. At the foot she called out, " Coming, 
 mother ! " and ran to hide the dishes she carried, 
 then back to the door and undid it, still singing 
 her merry ditty. 
 
 " "Why should you bolt the door, my daughter, 
 seeing I was to be gone only a few minutes ? " 
 
 " I was upstairs straightening things a bit, and 
 the town is so full of confusion that I felt a trifle 
 nervous." 
 
 " But here was the sentinel to protect you." 
 
 " Oh, I quite forgot him ! " she smiled with dep- 
 recating politeness at the sentinel, who had paused 
 at the steps and was watching her with an uglv 
 frown upon his sullen face. He touched his hat 
 with a shrug, and moved on upon his beat. 
 
 But a new terror came to the girl ; evidently 
 the man suspected her, and of course his suspicion 
 would be carried to Tarleton. Why had she 
 lingered upstairs talking with Richard ? Every 
 thing she did worked the wrong way. "Would the 
 day never end ? She strove to make amends for 
 her false step by singing Tory songs as she went 
 about the house, and by sending the guard a 
 dainty luncheon. It was perhaps an hour before 
 
IN tarleton's toils. 249 
 
 she remembered to ask her mother the result of 
 her interview with Aunt Clevering. 
 
 " Oh, but I had a sad scene of it ! Joscelyn, 
 your tongue will be the ruin of us ; I know it, I 
 know it ! Neighbour after neighbour has taken 
 offence at your outspoken Toryism ; and now 
 Ann Clevering, dear to me as a sister, says she 
 hopes you will never darken her door again. 
 And if 3"ou go not, why, neither can I ; and so 
 I am cut off from my best friend by your un- 
 neighbourly caprice ! And think what we have 
 been to each other ! " Here sobs choked the un- 
 happy woman's utterance, and she could only 
 turn her eyes reproachfully upon her daughter. 
 
 Joscelyn was deeply moved, as she always was, 
 to wound her mother ; but she put the best face 
 possible on it in order to cheer the disconsolate 
 old lady. 
 
 " There, mother dear, 'tis not worth crying 
 over. Not go to see Aunt Clevering because I 
 cannot go? Why, that is nonsense. Of course 
 you will go, and she will come here just the same. 
 I will keep out of her way until she forgives me 
 — for she will forgive me, never you fear. I am 
 not surprised at her anger, but it will all come 
 out right in the end ; so don't cry, little mother, 
 you break my heart with your tears." 
 
 But in her heart was serious question whether 
 she would ever again be received upon friendly 
 footing in the house over the way, which bad 
 been to her as a second home. She would never 
 
250 JOSCELTN CHESHIRE. 
 
 tell that she had made that speech to turn inquirj* 
 from her own house, where Richard was hiding ; 
 and she now doubted much if he would escape 
 to tell the story himself. She sang no more that 
 afternoon, but sat silently over her knitting. The 
 weather did not tend to mend her spirits ; for the 
 drizzle of the morning had turned into a steady 
 downpour, and the wind moaned about the gables 
 and up the throat of the wide chimney like a lost 
 spirit hopelessly seeking its reincarnation. Her 
 mother was still brooding over the break with the 
 Cleverings, and now and then lifting her kerchief 
 to her face in a gesture that was a reproach to 
 Joscelyn, who strove not to see it ; and yet she 
 watched for it persistently out of the tail of her 
 eye. She grew more miserable each moment ; and 
 so hailed with delight the entrance of Barry and 
 a fellow-officer, who had come to bask in the 
 warmth of her smile. 
 
 " Your visit is a charity, gentlemen," she said 
 gayly, as she gave them chairs ; " this weather 
 serves one's spirits and one's ruffles alike, in that 
 it leaves them both limp and frowsy." 
 
 " Your mother seems more out of sorts than 
 you." 
 
 " Yes ; mother is doing penance for my sin of 
 last night. Captain Barry." 
 
 " Your sin ? Why, methinks you never com- 
 mitted anything more heinous than a misde- 
 meanour. Come, make me your confessor, and I 
 promise you complete and immediate absolution." 
 
IN takleton's toils. 251 
 
 " 'Tis not your absolution, but Mistress Clever- 
 ing's that I need ; she has excommunicated me for 
 telling of the attic closet," she spoke with an air 
 of mock penitence that set her visitors off in a 
 roar. 
 
 But Mistress Cheshire stopped them with a 
 fresh burst of tears, '•' 'Tis no matter for jesting 
 with me, sirs. I am a subject of King George and 
 wish him well, but he cannot take the place of 
 Ann Clevering' in ray heart ! " 
 
 " True, true," said Joscelyn, still with her air of 
 pretence, only now it was playful ; "she loves her 
 king, but, you see, she lives not neighbours with 
 him ; and so, forsooth, she cannot compare her 
 loaves with his on a baking day, nor ask the loan of 
 his pie pans, nor offer her mixing bowl in return. 
 Ah, gentlemen, there is a homely charm in prox- 
 imity of which the poets wot not ! " 
 
 And so the talk ran on for a few minutes, and 
 the visitors agreed they had never found Mistress 
 Joscelyn so charming or so witty. Then they fell 
 to talking of the military news, of Tarleton's 
 determination to ferret out the hidden spy, and 
 of the burning of the Reverend Hugh McAden's 
 library by that division of the array stationed at Red 
 House, a few miles distant. To all of the first she 
 listened with an outward show of indifference, but 
 wnth an inward quaking. The other news inter- 
 ested her less ; but for obvious reasons was also less 
 embarrassing. 
 
 " I pray you, Captain Barry, why should the 
 
252 JOSCELYN CHESHIRE. 
 
 soldiers burn the reverend gentleman's library ? 
 'Twas innocent enough, and he himself has been 
 dead this twelvemonth." 
 
 " Well, they found from his books he was a 
 Presbyterian ; and being that, he must perforce be 
 also a rebel." 
 
 " And they consigned his books to the same fate 
 they believed him to be enjoying — the fire ? 
 Pra}'^ you, sir, were the flames hlue f Being the 
 very essence of Presbyterianism, they should have 
 been blue, you know." 
 
 " Capital ! I shall tell his lordship of your 
 excellent joke." 
 
 She hated herself for her little pleasantry, for 
 she had sincerely admired the minister, whom she 
 had known since childhood ; but she must keep 
 up a show of gayety, that these young men might 
 carry a good report of her to headquarters. 
 
 With the growing cloudiness the day was visibly 
 shortened. Joscelvn, o-lancins: now and then at 
 the window, watched the going of the light with 
 secret satisfaction. Already the opposite houses 
 were becoming indistinct, and as the shadows 
 grew apace, just in proportion did her spirits rise ; 
 the danger was drifting away, and the man up- 
 stairs now had a chance for life. But just as she 
 was con^ratulatino^ herself that the ordeal was 
 past, there came a trampling of hoofs at the door; 
 and Tarleton's voice, giving some order, made her 
 realize that the crisis had perchance but just now 
 come. For one awful moment the power of 
 
m taeleton's toils. 253 
 
 motion forsook her ; then with a masterly effort at 
 calmness, she said : — 
 
 "Mother, entertain the gentlemen while I see 
 why Samuel does not bring the lights," 
 
 She managed to walk with becoming leisure to 
 the parlour door ; but once outside she almost flew 
 up the stairs. Down on her knees before the fire 
 in her room, she wrote rapidly upon a scrap of 
 paper : — 
 
 " Be ready. Tarleton has come. They shall search 
 my room first ; that must be your refuge. When I 
 open the attic door, stand thou close behind it ; I will 
 direct attention to the chest and shelves at the far 
 end — then, if any, is your chance." 
 
 She rose to her feet ; the hall below was full of 
 manly voices, above which her mother called, 
 " Joscelyn, Joscelyn, come at once, here are more 
 visitors." 
 
 " Yes, mother." Then with a crash she dropped 
 the key basket, which she had snatched up, just in 
 front of the attic door, and while gathering up the 
 spilled keys with one hand, she slipped the note 
 under the door with the other, and instantly felt 
 it grasped and drawn away to the other side. She 
 knew Kichard could read it by means of his tinder- 
 box. Then flinging the keys into the basket, she 
 ran downstairs. As she entered the parlour, and 
 saw before the hearth the short, square figure of 
 Tarleton, the tremor passed out of her limbs. All 
 day she had been starting and quaking ; now in 
 the presence of the real danger, she was calm and 
 
254 JOSCELYN CHESHIRE. 
 
 collected. She greeted the colonel with a fair 
 show of hospitality, and fell immediately to talk- 
 ing of those ill-fated volumes of McAden. It was 
 anything to gain time that the last lingering day- 
 light might go. Tarleton let her run on for a few 
 minutes, even let Barry repeat her poor little joke 
 about the blue flames ; then he cleared his throat 
 and began : — 
 
 "Mistress Joscelyn, it behooves — " 
 
 But she interrupted him. " Wh}^, dear me, did 
 not mother give you a cup of tea ? You must 
 have one at once to kill that cold in your throat. 
 What a terrible ride you must have had to-day in 
 this storm. A soldier's life is indeed a hard one, 
 and nobly does he win the fame which illumines 
 his name! Two lumps, or three? Ah, you have 
 a sweet tooth." 
 
 But she could not stave him off after he had 
 drained his cup. She wanted to tell him how 
 they came by the tea since the tax had stopped 
 its sale, but he cut her short. 
 
 "Another time, ]\[istress Joscelyn, I shall be 
 glad to listen to your story, which is no doubt an 
 interesting one. But just now I have graver 
 matters to discuss with you." 
 
 " Grave matters with me ? " she repeated, with 
 feigned surprise and a ripple of laughter that was 
 like the tinkle of a silver bell. " That is an 
 unusual kind of discussion for a soldier to hold 
 with a woman. Are you going to ask my advice 
 about your morning coffee or your next cam- 
 
IN taeleton's toils. 255 
 
 paign ? But I pray you, sir, proceed ; I am all 
 attention." 
 
 There was not a glimmer of daylight through 
 the unshuttered window-sash. She felt the sinews 
 in her hands and arms grow like iron, and her 
 pulses beat with the perfection of rhythm. So 
 does a great crisis sometimes steady a woman's 
 nerves. 
 
 The short colonel rocked himself from toe to 
 heel a moment as he looked at her half in unbelief, 
 half in admiration of her coolness. Truly she was 
 superb. Then he said : — 
 
 " The spy of yesterday has not been taken." 
 
 " So these gentlemen were telling me," smiling 
 over at Barry. 
 
 " But it is most important to the safety of our 
 command and the good of our cause that he be 
 found — dead or alive." 
 
 She merely nodded, never taking her steady 
 gaze from his face. 
 
 " That he could have gotten out of the town is 
 impossible. My men ran him in from the west 
 side, over the bridge of the Eno. The sentinels 
 were at their posts upon the north, east, and 
 south sides of the village ; he could not have 
 passed them without detection." 
 
 Again he paused ; and finding that something 
 was expected of her she said, in a most matter- 
 of-fact way, " I see." 
 
 " Then the only conclusion to come to is, that 
 he is still in the town. Well, now, every house 
 
256 JOSCELYN CHESHIEE. 
 
 in this vicinity, where he was last seen, has been 
 thoroughly searched save yours. I have talked 
 with Lord Cornwallis — " 
 
 She stood up suddenly, with a dignity of move- 
 ment that well-nigh disconcerted him. "I pray 
 you, Colonel Tarleton, cut your explanation 
 short." 
 
 " Then in short, madam, I have here an order 
 from his lordship to examine your house and 
 premises." 
 
 She stretched out her hand for the paper 
 silently, imperiously. 
 
 Barry had risen and come to her side. 
 
 "You will see," Tarleton made haste to add, 
 " that your own loyalty is not impugned. The 
 paper states explicitly that it is not believed you 
 have any knowledge of the man's whereabouts; 
 but it is thought possible he may have concealed 
 himself secretly in your house. I have spoken 
 to his lordship, and — " 
 
 " It were unnecessary to say so — I know full 
 well, without the telling, who has so poisoned his 
 lordship's mind against me. Every man, woman, 
 and child in this communitv knows that I have 
 never wavered in my allegiance to the king. I 
 have been a target for Whig criticism, almost of 
 persecution, because of that allegiance — and this 
 is my reward ! " she struck the paper sharply 
 with her other hand. " Well, sir, I recognize the 
 source ! " she turned her eyes scornfully upon the 
 man on the rug. 
 
IN tarleton's toils. 257 
 
 Tarleton ground his teeth, but his private orders 
 were to use the ladv with all g^entleness, and 
 he knew how to obey — under provocation. He 
 began some sullen disclaimer, but she broke in 
 imperiously : — 
 
 " Enough, sir ; such paltry excuses weary me. 
 Let us to business." 
 
 " You interpose no objection ? " 
 
 " None, sir. In this house the mandates of his 
 majesty's representatives are obeyed. Let me 
 see ; is it your wish to begin upstairs ? Yery well. 
 Perhaps these gentlemen will be kind enough to 
 watch the stair ; the flight below the landing 
 comes down just at this door." 
 
 " May I not come with you ? " pleaded Barry, 
 who was loath to have her out of his sight with the 
 brusque colonel, lest some rude word be spoken to 
 her, — a discourtesy he would have been hot to 
 revenge even upon his superior officer. 
 
 Tarleton nodded assent, but Joscelyn laugh- 
 ingly interposed, " Nay, good captain, your boots 
 show the effects of the weather ; it would grieve 
 my mother's housewifely heart to know they were 
 leaving their impress upon her carpets. Wait 
 here and guard the stair — are we three not enough 
 to capture one ? " She pointed as she spoke from 
 herself and Tarleton to his orderly who had been 
 standing at attention just inside the door. " I take 
 it. Colonel Tarleton, that we shall be suflBcient ? " 
 He bowed ; and thrusting her knitting into her 
 pocket, she moved out of the room, followed by 
 
258 JOSCELYN CHESHIKE. 
 
 the officer and his orderly. "Mother, look you to 
 the comfort of these other guests ; I shall return 
 presently." 
 
 There was a threat in Barry's eyes as they met 
 Tarleton's in a fleeting glance; but he merely 
 saluted in silence as that officer passed out. One 
 day Tarleton should pay for this needless offence 
 to a girl so unprotected and so beautiful. It was 
 most evident from her bearing to see that she had 
 nothing to fear from an investigation. Yes, one 
 day he should pay for it. 
 
 In the hall Joscelyn stopped to pick up the key- 
 basket and the one candle in its tall brass candle- 
 stick. Thus did she leave the lower hall unlighted 
 save from the open parlour door, for she wanted no 
 radiance thrown upward to the story above. She 
 talked unceasingly as they mounted the steps, rais- 
 ing her voice presumably to overtop the noise of 
 the heavy boots, but really as a warning to the 
 man hiding above. Not for a moment did she 
 allow herself to consider the probably fatal out- 
 come of this search. She needed every faculty of 
 mind and body to meet the moments as they came. 
 In the narrow upper entry she paused and lifted 
 her candle ; a few chairs, a spinning-wheel, and a 
 table formed its only furniture. A cat could 
 scarcely have hidden there. 
 
 " Proceed, I pray you," said Tarleton, after one 
 glance around. 
 
 Three doors opened on this passage ; the nearest 
 of these, which was the one toward the front, she 
 
IN tarleton's toils. 259 
 
 threw open. The white bed, the frilled curtains, 
 the dainty toilet articles upon the dresser, were 
 heralds enough to proclaim the occupant. Even 
 Tarleton hesitated. 
 
 " To search here were useless." 
 
 " Nay, sir ; I insist that you carry out your 
 instructions." 
 
 She placed the candle on the table and waited 
 haughtily while the inspection was made, nodding 
 toward the wardrobe, " Open the doors and see 
 if Betty Clevering knew whereof she spoke." 
 
 "There is no one here," said Tarleton, following 
 her instructions, his big hand looking awkward 
 enough among the pretty feminine garments. She 
 picked up the light and opened the connecting 
 door to her mother's room. Tarleton went with 
 her first, however, nodding to the orderly to return 
 by way of the passage, that none might creep by 
 that means from the rear. 
 
 "An excellent precaution ; I had not thought of 
 it," said Joscelyn, detecting the unspoken order. 
 
 There was a bright fire on her mother's hearth, 
 and she stood as though warming herself while the 
 two men made their investigation. Her manner 
 was so perfectly frank and unconcerned that Tarle- 
 ton began to curse himself for a fool. At head- 
 quarters the other officers had opposed his plan, 
 laughing at the evidence his guards had gathered 
 — a little mud on a trellis in rainy weather, a 
 locked door when a woman was left alone in her 
 house in such troublous times ! Truly, the short 
 
260 JOSCELYN CHESHIRE. 
 
 colonel was over-credulous to attach any signifi- 
 cance to such trifles. Only by the most masterly 
 persuasion had he wrung that order from Corn- 
 wallis. He did not relish the laugh he knew his 
 failure would provoke, so he lingered somewhat in 
 this room, examining the closet, and making the 
 orderly climb up and look to see that no one was 
 hidden on top of the tall tester. Finally, he 
 announced himself satisfied. 
 
 Joscelyn's hands were like ice as she took up the 
 light and led the way into the hall, and there 
 stopped in front of the attic door. 
 
 "This is the only other apartment on this floor. 
 It is the attic over the pantry and kitchen, and 
 extends to the right the length of this hall and of 
 mother's room, which you have just quitted. There 
 is no other entrance but this door in the corner, as 
 you will see." 
 
 " Take the light, orderly," said Tarleton, as she 
 turned over the keys in the basket. This was not 
 what she wanted, but she yielded it without a 
 demurrer. 
 
 The key turned easily, and opening the door she 
 stepped in, still keeping her hand upon the knob, 
 which action brought her within a foot and a half 
 of the wall behind. Still holding the door and 
 facing about she pointed down the long, narrow 
 apartment. 
 
 " Will you make yourselves at home, gentle- 
 men?" 
 
 Tarleton's spirits rose ; the shadows and heaped- 
 
IN taeleton's toils. 261 
 
 up odds and ends in the far side of the room 
 seemed a covert for noble game. There was no 
 furniture at this end against which the door 
 opened, only bags of seed and dried peppers and 
 herbs hanging along the wall in rear of the girlish 
 figure. His quick glance took this in ; then mo- 
 tioning his orderly to follow, he went down the 
 length of the apartment, the light glinting on the 
 pistols in each man's hand. On the shelves were 
 carefully folded piles of bedclothes, and behind 
 the chest a smooth roll of carpet powdered with 
 dust. The hair trunks and the broken bureau 
 gave up no guest, nor did the deep shelves reveal 
 anything suspicious. 
 
 All this while a hand had been plucking at 
 Joscelyn's skirt, but Tarleton had kept his side 
 face to her so that any action was impossible. 
 Now, however, he called sharply to his aide to 
 place the candle on the floor and help him search 
 the big chest, remarking in a low tone that 
 " Caskets like that sometimes held living jewels." 
 
 Joscelyn laughed. "Then will it be in the 
 shape of mice, of which capture I wish you joy. 
 A rat hunt is noble sport for one of his Majesty's 
 gallant officers ! " 
 
 As she intended it should, this speech but 
 spurred Tarleton on to greater exertions. They 
 would soon be coming back to the door, and she 
 dared not risk the closing of it with what she 
 knew was behind. But there was not much time 
 left for action; for, obeying orders, the aide placed 
 
262 JOSCELYN CHESHIRE. 
 
 the candle on the floor, and opening the lid of the 
 chest began overhauling the contents ; his chiefs 
 back was also toward the door. Kow, if at all, 
 was the moment for action. Joscelyn's hand had 
 been on the yarn ball in her pocket ; quick as a 
 flash it was out and the thread snapped apart. 
 The floor slanted straight from her to the candle. 
 With a deft cast she sent the noiseless ball down 
 the room ; it struck the narrow-bottomed candle- 
 stick, which careened and rocked over — and the 
 next moment the room was in total darkness. 
 
 A cry broke from her and Tarleton simultane- 
 ously ; his was an oath upon the orderly, hers a 
 nervous relaxation of the strain that had been 
 upon her. 
 
 " Colonel Tarleton, come quickly and guard the 
 door whilst I find another light ! " she cried, sup- 
 pressing the dry sob in her throat ; for in the 
 momentary darkness she had felt a warm body 
 crush past her on its way to the hall. 
 
 But at that instant the orderly found his tinder- 
 box. 
 
***l HAVE SEEN NO HUMAN BEING SAVE OUK PARTY OF THREE.'" 
 
CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 THWARTED. 
 
 "They laugh who win." 
 
 — Shakespeare. 
 
 A S the candle kindled under the orderly's hand 
 -^-^ Tarleton, who had sprung toward the door, 
 found himself within a foot of Joscelyn, whom the 
 light revealed standing in the open doorway with 
 a hand lifted to either lintel. 
 
 "You find me guarding the postern, colonel," 
 she said, smiling, although her very knees were 
 shaking under her with nervous trepidation. 
 
 " How came the light to go out ? " he demanded 
 angrily, 
 
 '' Surely, that is a matter for you to explain. I 
 was far from it at this end of the room," she 
 answered coldly. Then presently added, " Per- 
 chance 'twas struck by some of the things you 
 threw out of the chest ; or did the orderly jar the 
 plank on which it sat ? You see the floor is quite 
 a loose one. No fourth person could have put it 
 out without my perceiving him, and 1 swear to 
 you I have seen no human heing save our party of 
 three since coming up the stair." 
 
 This was the truth ; for she had not once glanced 
 behind the door, and she spoke the words slowly, 
 
 263 
 
264: JOSCELYN CHESHIKE. 
 
 looking the while straight into Tarleton's eyes. 
 He turned his searching gaze from her, but evi- 
 dently he was not satisfied, for as she moved from 
 the door he snatched the light, and stepping 
 beyond her, and so on up the hall, looked into 
 both of the rooms he had recently examined. 
 As he paused at her door with the candle lifted 
 above his head, the scene swam before Joscelyn's 
 eyes. If he entered, there would be discovery — 
 murder. It seemed an interminable minute that 
 he stood thus; then the blood came again to her 
 heart with a rush, for he turned back from the 
 threshold, and, calling for another light to leave 
 in the hall, he went again to finish his examina- 
 tion of the attic. Not a box was left unemptied, 
 not a barrel or chest or shelf that was not 
 searched as for some tiny object that might 
 secrete itself in a crack. Joscelyn, leaning 
 against the open door, watched the process in 
 silence save for occasional mocking suggestions 
 or biting comments, to most of which he gave no 
 heed. A lurking suspicion of her, added to his 
 fear of ridicule at headquarters, made him doubly 
 cautious, so that he never turned his back upon 
 her for an instant, and now and then he paused 
 and looked at her keenly and curiously ; but she 
 only gave him a satirical laugh for his pains. 
 But tlie search could not go on forever, and at 
 last he had to announce that he had finished. 
 Joscelyn longed to leave the door open, that 
 Richard might creep back ; but they had found 
 
THWARTED. 265 
 
 it locked, and so, fearful of arousing suspicion, she 
 made no objection when Tarleton, having looked 
 behind the door, locked it and handed her the 
 key. On every step of the stair her spirits rose, 
 so that her cheeks were brilliant and her eyes 
 shining, when at the bottom Barry met them, 
 and relieving her of her basket and candle, placed 
 them on the table. There was no need to ask the 
 result of the search ; Tarleton's face was a procla- 
 mation of defeat. After a few pleasantries with 
 Barry as to how he had guarded the steps, and 
 how many ghostly spies he had seen gliding up or 
 down, Joscelyn opened the dining room door, say- 
 ing, with a return to her stately courtesy : — 
 
 " And now. Colonel Tarleton, we will finish our 
 task, an it please you. His lordship will be con- 
 sumed with impatience for your return." 
 
 Sullenly Tarleton followed her lead ; he inter- 
 cepted the glance she shot at Barry, and felt him- 
 self a butt for her ridicule, and his temper was not 
 improved thereby. The ransacked pantries and 
 closets gave up nothing that was alive except a 
 mouse, at whose wild antics, Joscelyn and Barry 
 laughed like a couple of children, their mouths 
 full of cake which the girl had cut from the loaf 
 on the shelf. It was such a relief to laugh, to do 
 anything to ease the tense strain upon her nerves 
 and composure. It was raining without, and she 
 sat with Barry by the dining room fire, while 
 Tarleton and the orderly investigated the cellar 
 and the outbuildings. Those few moments alone 
 
266 JOSCELYN CHESHIRE. 
 
 with her finished the subjugation of the young 
 man's heart. He knew that for him there could 
 be no happiness in the future unless she shared 
 it with him ; and he was telling her so in hesitat- 
 ing whispers — for his very earnestness had made 
 him shy and awkward — when the return of the 
 searching party put an end to the interview, 
 
 Joscelyn stood upon the veranda as Tarleton 
 mounted for the ride, and cried out with her tan- 
 talizing mockery : — 
 
 " Commend me to his lordship, and say that 
 you came upon a fool's errand, and carry back 
 but the fruit of such a quest." 
 
 She would have said more, but her mother 
 plucked her by the sleeve with frightened com- 
 mand ; and so with an enchanting change of man- 
 ner she turned to Captain Barry, who had lingered 
 on the step, and begged that he would ere long 
 give them again the pleasure of his company. 
 Her words were meant more as a rebuff to Tarle- 
 ton by contrast with the sharp things she had 
 said to him; but the younger officer construed 
 them into an acknowledged preference for him- 
 self, and his quick pulses throbbed with a fore- 
 taste of that sweetest victory a man can win — 
 the capture of a beloved woman's heart. As he 
 rode away with his companion, he knew not if it 
 still rained or was clear ; the mud of the streets 
 might have been drifts of bright-hued blossoms 
 for all the notice he gave it; even his resentment 
 against Tarleton was forgotten in this sweet dream 
 
THWARTED. 267 
 
 of love which, amid the shadows of war, had sud- 
 denly opened before him as a flower unfolds its 
 petals to the dawn. At supper with his fellow- 
 officers, he heard none of the jests upon Tarle- 
 ton's failure of the evening, so busy was he recall- 
 ing every word and look of the girl who in one 
 short week had made the world as a new creation 
 for him. The time for his wooing would be short, 
 and the morrow was too remote for his impatient 
 heart ; and so ere another hour went by he was 
 again knocking at her door. Much to his chagrin, 
 he found other guests before him, for hardly had 
 he quitted the house ere Mary Singleton arrived 
 and announced that she meant to tarry all night. 
 
 "Eustace and some of his friends are coming 
 later ; so, my dear, you must let me run upstairs 
 at once and change this damp gown for something 
 more comfortable and becoming. When you see 
 who is with Eustace, you will understand why I 
 want to look so charming. My maid has my bag 
 in the kitchen. Come." 
 
 Another menace ! Would she never be free 
 from discovery, Joscelyn ^vondered. And taking 
 her friend by the shoulders, she pushed her play- 
 fully into the parlour. 
 
 " 'Tis easy enough to guess who is coming, by 
 the happiness in your eyes. But there, go make 
 your duty to mother w^hile I have a fire kindled 
 in my room ; then shall you make yourself as 
 beautiful as a dream ere it runs to a nightmare." 
 
 Upstairs she raced, stopping in the hall only 
 
268 JOSCELYN CHESHIKE. 
 
 long enough to unlock the attic door. In her 
 room was a slight noise ; and she was about to 
 call Richard softly, when by the fireplace she per- 
 ceived the maid blowing the coals into a blaze. 
 
 " That will do, Peggy. Go down at once and 
 get a pair of your dry shoes for Mistress Single- 
 ton's maid, that she may shortly be ready to help 
 her mistress dress." 
 
 Peggy obe3''ed ; and then Joscelyn heard her 
 name called, and saw the curtains of the bed- 
 tester shaken as by some one standing behind 
 them, and Richard's head and shoulders came to 
 view. Answering the look in his eloquent eyes, 
 she put out her hand with a quick impulse to 
 meet his ; but at that moment the door was flung 
 open, and Mary rushed in. 
 
 " They have come already, and 'tis as much as 
 my chances with Edward IMoore are worth to 
 have him see me in this garb ; so I fled for my 
 life," she cried, laughing and panting together. 
 
 Joscelyn dared not look toward the bed cur- 
 tain ; surely, the fates had combined against her ! 
 She stood quite still and let Mar}'- run on with her 
 confidences concerning young Moore, salving her 
 conscience with the thought that a second listener 
 could not matter when a human life was at stake. 
 But when Mary, too intent upon the mirror to 
 look at the bed, shook down her hair and began 
 deliberately to unfasten her bodice, Joscelyn grew 
 desperate. She could not permit this. 
 
 "Wait until — until the fire burns, Mary," she 
 
THWARTED. 269 
 
 cried, that she might gain a few minutes to think. 
 But Mary only laughed and went on unhooking, 
 raving about blue eyes and a tall figure ; to all 
 of which Joscelyn agreed, striving to fasten the 
 hooks again until Mary pushed her off in a small 
 pet. Then, with a last frantic effort, she upset, 
 with a palpably awkward movement of her elbow, 
 a pitcher that stood on the dresser; and as the 
 deluge of water came down she cried to Mary to 
 go at once to her mother's room, where was a 
 better fire, and she would follow with her things. 
 It was a most open bit of acting, without a shadow 
 of plot or diplomacy ; but Mary was too intent 
 upon her love affair to notice, and so went obedi- 
 ently into the next room, talking still of Edward 
 Moore. As Joscelyn gathered up some ribbons 
 and lace from the bed, she whispered as though 
 to the curtained post : — 
 
 " The attic door is open — there is no one in the 
 hall." 
 
 Then did the post seem suddenly alive, for a 
 hand caught hers, and a voice full of love and 
 gratitude said in her ear : — 
 
 " God bless you ! Good-by." 
 
 Ten minutes later, trying the attic door, she 
 found it locked from witiiin ; and, leaving Mary 
 in the hands of the maid, she went down the stair 
 with a light heart, for the day's trials were over 
 at last, and she might cease to wrack her brain 
 for expedients and deceptions. Other guests had 
 followed Barry, and the house was soon full of 
 
270 JOSCELYN CHESHIRE. 
 
 echoing laughter and snatches of song, with the 
 low hum of conversation, like the ripple of a 
 brook, running ceaselessly underneath the lighter 
 sounds. 
 
 As soon as Joscelyn laid eyes on Eustace she 
 knew something was amiss, and he was not long 
 in letting her know what it was, upbraiding her 
 bitterly for her cruel speech of last night. 
 
 "You Avere not content that those rude men 
 were searching her house, but must add to her 
 humiliation. What demon of cruelty possessed 
 you ? " 
 
 " It was the meanest thing I ever did," she said, 
 with something like a sob ; " and, Eustace, if you 
 can only get Betty to forgive me, there is nothing 
 I will not do for you." 
 
 '' Small chance I have to win forgiveness for 
 you or favour for myself," he answered gloomily. 
 " I wish I had been here last night ; she should 
 have known she had at least one friend, though I 
 lost ray commission by it. Only once have I seen 
 her, and then but for ten minutes, with her mother 
 freezing the life out of us with her cold stare." 
 
 " If I arrange a meeting between this and your 
 departure, will you spare a few moments from 
 your wooing to plead for me ? " 
 
 " Yes ; but can you do it ? " 
 
 " Slip away up to mother's room and write her 
 a note ; I will see that she gets it this night," and, 
 mollified, he went. 
 
 Upstairs in the attic, shivering under the 
 
THWARTED. 271 
 
 blankets behind the big chest, Kichard hearkened 
 to the subdued echoes of gayety from below and 
 went over thoughtfully the events of the day. 
 All the morning and afternoon he had felt the 
 nets closing about him, and when he read Jos- 
 celyn's hasty warning he knew that death stood 
 at his elbow. Not that hope died, but what could 
 hope do in such straights ? He made ready as she 
 bade him, folding the blankets and straightening 
 the carpet, putting his boots into a barrel under a 
 lot of old shoes and odds and scraps. Then with 
 his ear to the door, he had waited for what seemed 
 a dragging age. Always his care was for Jos- 
 celyn. Even when, during the search, the door 
 was opened, and he stood crushed against the wall 
 with his would-be captors and murderers not six 
 feet away, the uppermost thought in his mind 
 was for her, anxiety for her safet}', admiration 
 for her magnificent courage. Slipping out of the 
 room in that momentary darkness, he had felt like 
 a traitor deserting the thing on earth dearest to 
 him, and had cursed the fate that sent him awa}^ 
 But the supreme moment came when, crouching 
 by her bed, he saw through the tester curtain the 
 British officer pause in the door with his lifted 
 light. One step out into the room, and the flimsy 
 curtain could not have hidden the figure of the 
 man behind it. On that one more step hung life 
 or death. Breathless, Richard waited, his un- 
 sheathed dirk in his hand. He knew this man, — 
 hated as no other Englishman was hated throug'h 
 
272 JOSCELYN CHESHIRE, 
 
 the length and breadth of the land, — standing 
 thus unconscious of any danger, was utterly within 
 his power. One strong upward blow where the 
 heart was left uncovered by tlie lifted arm, and 
 the cause of American liberty would lose one of 
 its deadliest enemies. But the guards below, the 
 soldiers swarming in the street — and Joscelyn! 
 At thought of her the murderous instinct in his 
 soul was quelled, and without so much as a relaxed 
 muscle, he saw Tarleton turn from the room. 
 Then he had hidden himself more carefully and 
 waited for her coming. Mistaking for her the 
 maid who came to light the fire, he was near to 
 self-betrayal ; and he could not remember how he 
 had gotten out of sight when later on Mary burst 
 into the room ; but lying now at full length under 
 the sloping rafters, he smiled at the measures 
 Joscelyn had used to dispose of her, recognizing 
 that subtle loyalty which would, in dire straits, 
 give up a friend's love secret to another, but would 
 not without an effort sacrifice that friend's 
 modesty. 
 
 Brave girl, what a spirit and resolution ^vere 
 hers ! And yet he had seen her cry over a dead 
 wren and flinch from the sight of his hunting-gun. 
 And how many trials and perils he had drawn 
 upon her by his presence, although if taken he had 
 resolved to live only long enough to proclaim her 
 blameless. Well, when the revel down below 
 should be over, he would steal away, for he would 
 be a source of danger to her no more. And, be- 
 
THWARTED. 273 
 
 sides, Greene needed his information. He must 
 face his fate and take what chances he might ; 
 that was a scout's fate and duty ; and so he planned 
 his course. B}^ and by he left his couch and stood 
 at the door to try and separate Joscelyn's voice 
 from the medley of sounds that made their way 
 up to him ; the least scrap of a sentence would be 
 as balm to his aching heart. But he listened long 
 in vain ; all was a confused babble ; then suddenly 
 a voice called her, and she answered clearly that 
 she was sitting on the stair wath Captain Barry. 
 And somebody said, " Of course." And then 
 there w^as a general laugh that somehow set 
 Richard's blood in a strange tingle of pain. 
 
 So she was sitting there just below him, within 
 sight if he but dared to crack the door. And such 
 a longing came upon him that he did turn the key 
 and made a little opening, and saw the back of 
 her head and her scarlet bodice as she bent down 
 to some one sitting below her. A keen jealousy 
 smote him ; who was her companion, ^vas he 
 handsome or homely ? Of course he was making 
 love to her ; no one could look that close into her 
 eyes and not love her. And she, — was she smil- 
 ing with the sweet shyness he loved but wanted 
 no other man to see ? It was only by a supreme 
 effort of will that he dragged himself away and 
 fastened the door again. Would they never go, 
 those idle gossiping people with their thoughts 
 absorbed by pleasure and merriment — never go 
 and let her come to him for just one minute of 
 
274: JOSCELYN CHESHIRE. 
 
 divine joy ? How he hated them all for staying; 
 and above all, how he hated that man on the stairs 
 whispering his heart into her ear. 
 
 Presently there came the clatter of dishes, and 
 then he remembered he had had no supper and it 
 must be close upon midnight. With the coming 
 of the dark the wind had risen and the garret was 
 bitterly cold ; but busy with plans for his escape 
 and with thoughts of her, he scarcely noticed how 
 stiff and numb his limbs were. 
 
 An hour later there were calls of " good-by," 
 and the sound of opening and closing doors below, 
 mingled with shrill feminine voices calling for 
 wraps, and out in the street the stamping of horses. 
 Then silence reigned, and he knew the guests had 
 departed. Presently there was a slow tread upon 
 the stairs, and Mistress Cheshire called back some 
 directions to those below. Then a lighter, quicker 
 step followed, and Mary Singleton went singing 
 to Joscelyn's room. Fifteen, perhaps twenty 
 minutes of intense silence went by, and then a 
 slender thread of light shone under the door ; and 
 so faint as to be almost inaudible, a tap fell on the 
 panel. Quickly as possible he drew the bolt and 
 opened the door, but only just in time to see 
 Joscelyn enter her own room and close the door. 
 On a table, in reach of his hand, stood a shaded 
 candle and beside it was his supper. It was for 
 this she had called him ; but hungry as he was, he 
 forgot it in his bitter disappointment that he was 
 not to speak to her. Time pressed, however, and 
 
THWARTED. 275 
 
 soon he was back in the attic, devouring the food 
 she had left. Particularly grateful to him was 
 the mug of steaming hot tea. 
 
 " Tax or no tax, it cheers me up, temptress that 
 you are, sweet Joscelyn. Perchance a Continental 
 toast may override the Royalist poison lurking 
 in it, and so I pledge Nathaniel Greene and 
 his trusted scout — particularly the scout." He 
 laughed softly as he drained the cup. 
 
 Physically he was strengthened and warmed for 
 the flight before him, but his heart was heavy with 
 disappointment and dread. Once he abandoned 
 the idea of attempting to escape ; the house had 
 been searched and the guard removed, therefore 
 he was safer here than anywhere else, and he 
 must see her before he went. But more unselfish 
 council prevailed ; it was not his safety only that 
 must be considered. Tlie knowledge he had gained 
 would be of inestimable value to Greene ; the going 
 of the guard left the way open to him, and it was 
 duty, not personal inclination, that must dictate 
 his course. 
 
 He waited until the tall clock below chimed one, 
 and then made ready for his departure. He had 
 resolved not to tell Joscelyn of his plans even if 
 he might have spoken with her, for he wanted 
 her sleep troubled by no anxiety for him ; but 
 the yearning of his heart found expression in the 
 farewell he left upon the senseless panels of her 
 door. Then, boots in hand, he crept downstairs 
 and into the dining room. Here the rear door 
 
276 JOSCELYN CHESHIRE. 
 
 fastened with a latch, the string of which was 
 drawn inside at night. Softly he stepped out, clos- 
 ing it behind him, and stood a moment pushing the 
 string back through its hole, that those behind 
 might be safe ; then, hugging the fence, he crept 
 to the gate and was soon . in the alley outside. 
 The darkness, the soft mud, and the howlinsr 
 wind were all in his favour. He knew his waj^ 
 even in the gloom, and so, making now and then 
 a detour to avoid a public street or a possible 
 sentry post, he came at last to the outskirts of 
 the town, keeping always in the direction opposite 
 the British camp. The bridge he knew must be 
 well guarded, and so must the road over the 
 mountains; hence he kept directly across the 
 fields to where the river bends under the cliff 
 called "Lovers' Leap." Ahead of him, behind 
 a clump of bushes, burned a low fire, and he crept 
 up on hands and knees to hear what the two men 
 sitting there were saying. One of them was sur- 
 lily poking the fire: — 
 
 " If we break camp to-morrow, how the devil 
 can we march over such soggy roads ? " 
 
 "The Guildford road is not so bad," was the 
 answer; and although Eichard waited a long 
 time, he heard nothing else. And so like a ghost 
 he crept into the drifting rain and soon gained the 
 river, repeating to himself that last sentence which 
 might be the keynote to the British movements. 
 
 His knowledge of the country folk stood him in 
 good stead, for soon he was untying a canoe from 
 
THWARTED. 277 
 
 a gum tree not far from a lonely cabin. Often, 
 when a boy, he had gone with the owner fishing 
 in this boat, tying it up to the tree roots when the 
 day's sport was done. The river was turbulent 
 from the recent downpour, and in the darkness 
 he went further down-stream than he intended ; 
 but at last he drew into a cove of weeds and 
 reeds, and leaving the boat there he plunged 
 into the forest beyond. But he was not lost, 
 and ere the dawn came he had found a friend, 
 and well mounted he pressed on to carry the 
 news he had gathered to the American camp ; 
 and as he rode, he thought always and with a 
 gnawing bitterness of the view he had had of 
 Joscelyn's head as she bent down to catch the love 
 words of that invisible suitor. 
 
CHAPTER XXY. 
 
 GOOD-BY, SWEETHEART. 
 
 •' Yet all my life seems going out 
 As slow I turn my face about 
 To go alone another way, to be alone 
 
 Till life's last day, 
 Unless thy smile can light the way ! " 
 
 — Anon. 
 
 TN the early morning, before the family were 
 -*- astir, Joscelyn dressed herself hurriedly and 
 went to the attic door. It was ajar. With a 
 quick premonition of evil, she entered and whis- 
 pered Richard's name. No answer came ; no one 
 was there. Then the truth flashed upon her — he 
 had gone, risking everything rather than further 
 expose her to discovery and its dire results. How 
 chiv^alric, and yet how insane ! Of course he would 
 be captured, or else he would perish with cold and 
 hunger this bitter winter weather. She looked 
 about carefully ; not a scrap of a note had he left 
 to say good-by. She had not dared to wait to 
 speak with him last night, lest Mary discover them ; 
 but now she reproached herself, feeling that she 
 might have prevented this mad mistake. She had 
 meant to come back after all was quiet, but Mary 
 talked so long that for very shame she had not 
 dared to do so, dreading his man's judgment of a 
 visit at such an hour. 
 
 278 
 
GOOD-BT, SWEETHEART, 279 
 
 She was now in a nervous tremor, and feared to 
 have the maids come in, lest they announce that 
 the spy had been taken ; and when they came but 
 said naught of it, she began to look for news from 
 outsiders. Several times during the morning meal 
 she glanced across to Aunt Clevering's house with 
 such a tempestuous pity for the old lady's coming 
 sorrow that her eyes shone with tears ; and her 
 mother, seeing them, thought that it was sorrow 
 for the estrangement she had wrought between the 
 two families, and resolved to tell Ann Clevering 
 about it. 
 
 " Come, Joscelyn," said Mary, looking up from 
 her plate, " an you eat no breakfast and keep your 
 mouth pulled down at the corners like that, we'll 
 be thinking Captain Barr}^ left unsaid the things 
 he should have said last night." 
 
 "I know not what you think he should have 
 said — but he was very charming," the girl said, 
 rousing herself. 
 
 " Particularly when you two sat on the stair and 
 whispered so long." 
 
 " The time seemed long to you because just at 
 that time Edward Moore was talking with Pattie 
 Newsom." 
 
 " Well," answered Mary, tossing her head, " it 
 was quite as long to him, for he said it seemed 
 years while he was from me." 
 
 " Poor Pattie ! " 
 
 But all the time she jested her heart was full ; 
 and she kept her eyes on the opposite house or 
 
280 JOSCELTN CHESHIRE. 
 
 watched those who passed in the street to guess, 
 if possible, if they carried news to the commander's 
 quarters. The rain had passed in the night, but 
 toward dawn the wind had crystallized it into sleet, 
 so that in the sun the ice-dight world sparkled like 
 a jewel catching the light upon its many facets 
 and kindling each with a different flame ; every- 
 where was a brilliant silvery glisten with gleams 
 of amethyst and agate, ochre and opal like momen- 
 tary meteors in the marvellous dazzle. What a 
 day to be hunted across countrj'^ like a wild animal 
 by human bloodhounds ! What a day to die by a 
 bullet, or, worse still, on yonder historic hill as 
 the Regulators died ! 
 
 The hours wore on, and still no tidings came. 
 Joscelyn went restlessly from room to room, 
 unable to fix her attention upon anything. It 
 was close upon ten o'clock when the thud of 
 hoofs resounded outside, and a minute after 
 Barry entered the room. Evidently the news 
 he brought was of a gloomy character, for his 
 face was clouded. 
 
 " The spy — they have caught him ! " Joscelyn 
 cried, leaning heavily on her chair. 
 
 "The spy? What do you mean — what is the 
 matter that you are so pale?" The solicitude in 
 his voice was not unmixed with a curious surprise. 
 Then when she hesitated over her answer, he 
 said ; coming quite close to her, " Why are you 
 so interested in this spy ? " 
 
 Then in a moment she was herself again. 
 
GOOD-BY, SWEETHEART. 281 
 
 "They say it was he who saved my life on the 
 commons ; should I be true to my womanhood if 
 I dismissed him from my thoughts? I tell you 
 frankly I wish him well." 
 
 She returned his gaze quietly, and he took her 
 hand with a deference that was an apology. " And 
 I, too, wish him well for that service, no matter 
 what he may have carried to his general to our 
 undoing — for he has not been taken. I am a 
 soldier and a servant of the king, but in my 
 heart of hearts your safety is more than the 
 safety of Lord Cornwallis's whole command." 
 
 His reward was a dazzling smile and an invita- 
 tion to sit with her upon the sofa, which action 
 brought him within a foot of her. He longed 
 to lessen even that distance, but comforted him- 
 self with the thought that his hand might creep 
 to hers at the first softening of her manner. 
 
 " What made you think I brought news of the 
 spy?" 
 
 " You were so grave I thought naught but an 
 execution could be in progress." 
 
 "It is indeed a kind of execution, for this is to 
 be my good-by," he said sadly. "We march in 
 two hours ; already camp is broken, and prepara- 
 tions are being made." 
 
 "And this decision was reached — ?" 
 
 " Late last night at a couhcil of oflBcers. This 
 spy has carried away information about our posi- 
 tion that Greene could use to our defeat ; that, 
 with other reasons, brought about the decision. 
 
282 JOSCELYN CHESHIRE. 
 
 I did not sleep one moment for thinking of 
 leaving you." 
 
 "And the search for the spy is given over?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 She could not repress a sigh of relief, but he did 
 not so interpret it. Mary had withdrawn to the 
 window, and her mother had left the room ; they 
 two might as well have been alone. 
 
 " My God, how I shall miss you ! " cried the 
 young fellow at last, desperately. " You see I 
 never loved a woman before, and so I know not 
 how to bear this parting." 
 
 "You are a soldier," she said gently. "A sol- 
 dier endures any pain manfully." 
 
 " Yes, but no sword thrust ever hurt like this. 
 You are glad you have met rae ? " 
 
 " "^ery glad." 
 
 " And you will miss me and think of me some- 
 times?" 
 
 " Many times." 
 
 "And when the war is over, I may come back 
 and — and claim your love ? " 
 
 He had taken her hand, and she could not at 
 once draw it away, for a strange hesitation was 
 upon her. " I cannot promise," she said at last. 
 " Ten days ago I did not know you." 
 
 " Yes, but ten hours taught my heart its lesson 
 for life, and war makes quick wooing." 
 
 She slowly but firmly drew her hand away. 
 " I cannot promise ; but I love no one else." 
 
 " Then I will wait and hope." 
 
GOOD-BY, SWEETHEART. 283 
 
 A few minutes later a bugle sent its shrill call 
 down the wind. He sprang up and hastily shook 
 hands with Mary and Mistress Cheshire, who had 
 just returned to the room ; but, answering his 
 pleading glance, Joscelyn followed him into the 
 hall that the others might not witness the emo- 
 tion of his parting with herself. 
 
 "Try to love me," he said, and was gone; and 
 watching him as he passed out of sight, she felt 
 that her hands were wet with the boyish tears that 
 had fallen on them as he carried them to his lips 
 in a fervid farewell. And suddenly she asked 
 herself what happier fate awaited her than to 
 accept this love poured out so prodigally at her 
 feet. The question brought serious thoughts, so 
 Mary found her but dull company until other 
 visitors arrived to say also their farewells. One 
 of these brought a note from Lord Cornwallis. 
 "Would she not come and witness their departure ? 
 
 " Mother," she said, coming downstairs in her 
 habit, " I shall not be at home this afternoon ; 
 call Betty over to sort her wools out of my knit- 
 ting-bag ; she will find it on the spinet. And 
 while she works over it, go you once more to 
 Aunt Clevering's, if you please, and intercede 
 for me ; Betty will not mind being left." 
 
 Thus did she plan to leave the way open to 
 Eustace for a hasty farewell to his sweetheart. 
 
 A little past noon the drums rolled out their 
 hoarse commands, and the British army was on 
 the move. An unrestrained excitement ran riot 
 
284: JOSCELYN CHESHIRE. 
 
 in the town. There were blaring bugles and 
 flaunting flags, and everywhere glimmers of red 
 as the corps passed onward. At the head of the 
 British columns rode Lord Cornwallis, and at his 
 bridle-rein went Mistress Joscelvn, the picture of 
 good humour and coquetry, with a scarlet cockade 
 in her hat, and an officer's sash tied jauntil}' across 
 her breast from shoulder to waist. The rich colour 
 of the silk brought out by contrast the sea-blue 
 lights in her eyes and the glossy gleams of her 
 hair. Men forgot the martial pageant to look at 
 her; and when at the home pier of the river bridge 
 the staff paused, the salutes from the passing sol- 
 diers were as much for her as for the general be- 
 side her. There the parting came, the officers 
 falling in at the rear of the troops when the last 
 company had passed over. As Eustace passed 
 Joscelyn, he lifted the lapel of his coat, on which 
 was a purple aster,- — the like of which grew no- 
 where save in Betty's dormer window, — and said 
 with a happy smile : — 
 
 " Your plan worked well, sweet Joscelyn. Ten 
 minutes of heaven compensate a man for hours of 
 purgatory. May the fates be as kind to your own 
 heart." 
 
 But it was Barrv who lingered behind the 
 others for one last look and word, and then went 
 clattering over the bridge, and left the girl to 
 return to the town with the few Tory women 
 who had dared to share her ride. They had been 
 bold enough at the start, with all tlie king's army 
 
GOOD-BY, SWEETHEART. 285 
 
 at their backs, but to go back unprotected by 
 martial power was quite another thing; anti- 
 Toryism would now hold sway, and they knew 
 what that meant; so at the entrance of the town 
 the others turned aside to find their homes, which 
 fortunately were near at hand. But Joscelyn lived 
 at the far end of the town, and must needs pass 
 the whole length of King Street ere she gained 
 her door. 
 
 The street, which for the past week had been 
 almost deserted by the patriotic townspeople, now 
 swarmed with eager men and women ; but Josce- 
 lyn's thoughts were too full of Richard's escape 
 and Barry's wooing for her to note the angry 
 glances directed toward her. It was not until 
 she was passing the wooden building that had 
 served Cornwallis as headquarters for his staff, 
 that she became aware of the hostility she was 
 exciting. Then a voice called out to her to take 
 off that hated insignia she wore ; and ere she real- 
 ized what was happening, four or five boys had 
 surrounded her horse and were snatching at the 
 sash ends that dangled from her waist. Her 
 anger iiaraed up to a white heat at this insult, 
 and she laid about her with her riding-whip until 
 they let her be. A volley of light missiles fol- 
 lowed her as she went on her way, her horse 
 curbed to a walk because she was too proud to 
 seem to fly. The same pride kept her from dodg- 
 ing the paper balls and bits of soft mud that 
 rained around her, and now and then struck her 
 
286 JOSCELYN CHESHIEE. 
 
 skirts and shoulders. Thus, looking neither to 
 the right nor the left, she went slowly onward 
 until a little urchin, springing to the middle of 
 the road in front of her, shouted insolently : — 
 
 " Out upon you for a Tory jade ! " 
 
 His companions screamed their encouragement, 
 thinking to see her discomforted ; but leaning out 
 of her saddle she said, with that smile that had 
 played havoc with so many older hearts : — 
 
 " Thank you, Jamie, for calling me such a 
 beautiful name. Were the examples I helped 
 you to work last week quite right? You must 
 come again when you get in trouble over them, 
 that I may save you from another flogging." 
 
 The boy, remembering her timely aid, drew 
 back abashed, dropping the mud he had been 
 wadding together in his grimy hand ; and taking 
 advantao:e of the momentarv cessation of hostili- 
 ties, Joscelyn waved them a laughing salute and 
 cantered away to her own door. But in the 
 privacy of her room she broke down and sobbed 
 out the excitement and suspense of the past two 
 days. The courage which had defied and cheated 
 Tarleton and put the riotous urchins to shame 
 melted away in that burst of tears, and a woman- 
 like longing for protection and safety surged 
 through her. If she might only go away, or if 
 there were but some one to stand between her 
 and this weary persecution ! 
 
 The first object upon which her eyes rested as 
 she lifted her head when the weeping was past. 
 
GOOD-BY, SWEETHEART. 287 
 
 was that ill-fated scarf with which Barry had 
 decorated her that morning at headquarters. 
 What a world of meaning there was in it ! Per- 
 haps nothing could so have drawn her heart to 
 the absent officer as this silent messenger of his 
 love. She folded it away carefully, lingering a 
 moment ere she shut it from sight to recall those 
 last words he had whispered in her ear ere he fol- 
 lowed his comrades over the river. All the rest 
 of the day they echoed in her thoughts, calming 
 her by their earnest tenderness. 
 
 " Betty came for her wools ? " she asked her 
 mother at bedtime. 
 
 "Yes. And I forgot to tell you that after I 
 had gone from the house Eustace Singleton came 
 to say good-by to you. When I returned from 
 Ann's, I found him in the parlour, where his pres- 
 ence must greatly have annoyed Betty, for she 
 was red and flustered. I am sure I w^as sorry, 
 but I was in no way to blame for her disturb- 
 ance." And then tearfully she went on to tell 
 how her mission with Aunt Clevering had again 
 failed. 
 
 The change that came upon Hillsboro' with the 
 going of the British was as swift as it was pro- 
 nounced. Where before had been sullen repres- 
 sion among the people, all was now animation and 
 exuberance of spirits; the Tories were intimi- 
 dated, and the place bristled with patriotic evi- 
 dences. It was as though a slide had been slipped 
 in a stereopticon, and a new picture projected 
 
288 JOSCELYN CHESHIRE. 
 
 upon the canvas. All the talk now ran on Greene, 
 who had moved down from the Dan and lay 
 upon the heights of Troublesome Creek, only 
 thirteen miles from where Cornwallis had pitched 
 his own camp. For nearly two weeks the entire 
 country w^atched with panting interest these two 
 generals play their advance-guards and recon- 
 noitring parties against each other as though 
 they were so many ivory figures upon a chess- 
 board. Then came the meeting at Guildford 
 Court-house, the fame of which blew throuo-h 
 the land like a sirocco's breath. 
 
 "Lord Cornwallis has won the game at Guild- 
 ford," cried Joscelyn. 
 
 " Ay, won it so hard and fast that he has had 
 to run away to hold the stakes," retorted Mis- 
 tress Strudwick, equally rejoiced over the British 
 retreat to "Wilmington. 
 
 "Had the militia but done their shai-e, we should 
 have finished Cornwallis for good," Richard wrote to 
 Joscelyn after the battle. " But praise be to Heaven, 
 Banastre Tarleton is among the wounded. I do 
 hope and believe it was my bullet that hit him, for 
 I singled him out for my aim, remembering his bearing 
 to you and my mother last month. K so I hear that 
 his wound proves fatal, I shall wear no mourning." 
 
 And, truth to say, Joscelyn herself sorrowed 
 never a bit over the short colonel's discomfiture. 
 Later on came another letter : — 
 
 " We are on the march to the south to aid Marion, 
 Sumter, and Pickens to snatch South Carolina and 
 
GOOD-BY, SWEETHEAKT. 289 
 
 Georgia from the foe. We know of the terrible 
 doings of Arnold in Virginia, and General La Fay- 
 ette has been sent to check him, but much I doubt 
 his success. Ye gods ! what a soldier we lost when 
 Arnold went over to the enemy in that traitorous 
 way. He was the one man in our army who was 
 Tarleton's match in a raid. If the Marquis catches 
 him, however, I should like to be at the reckoning. 
 A traitor with the fire of genius in his veins ! At 
 Guildford I looked at his old command, and said to 
 myself that the day had gone differently had Arnold 
 led them. Men followed him like sheep to victory 
 or to death. Think you what a demon it takes to 
 harrow one's country, to fight against one's own 
 people ! " 
 
 As the weeks passed and the spring advanced, 
 Joscelyn's position in the community grew more 
 irksome, for Tory supremacy was at an end and 
 the patriotic spirit was dominant. " Only the 
 rudeness of some excited boys," the older folk 
 had said of the incident of her homeward ride 
 the day the British withdrew ; but it was rather 
 the true index of the public temper against her, 
 and not a day went by but she was made to feel 
 it keenly. Never was an occasion to annoy her 
 neglected, until between her and her neighbours 
 was a bloodless but harassing feud that destroyed 
 utterly the old harmony and good will. She felt 
 the change bitterly ; every neglect or retort 
 rankled in her thoughts until it became as a 
 fester corrupting her happiness. But she kept a 
 brave face to the world, and sang her Tory 
 
290 JOSCELTN CHESHIRE. 
 
 ballads on the veranda in the soft spring twi- 
 lights, or as she worked through the sunny hours 
 in the side yard where no flowers but those that 
 blossomed red were permitted to blow. And Mis- 
 tress Strudwick said to her cronies, with genuine 
 admirati5n, that twenty Guildfords could not 
 break the spirit of a girl like that. 
 
 But necessarily the thing that hurt Joscelyn 
 most was Aunt Clevering's treatment. Not con- 
 tent to be a spectator, she often took the initia- 
 tive in the persecution the girl was made to suffer, 
 ignoring her in public or noticing her only to taunt 
 her with some uncivil word or look. A few sen- 
 tences from Joscelyn might have swept away the 
 barriers and restored the old friendshiji, but she 
 would not buy her pardon thus. She possibly 
 might not be believed without the proof of 
 Richard's letter, that first short, fervid missive 
 he had sent her on the eve of the great battle ; 
 and that she could not show, not even to his own 
 mother, such a heroine did it make of her, such an 
 ardent, grateful lover of him. Then, too, if this 
 quarrel with Aunt Clevering should be healed, 
 people would ask questions, and when the truth 
 should be known she would be in no better plight 
 — a Tory maid risking everything, even life itself, 
 to hide a Continental spy ! Neither friends nor 
 foes would understand ; her motives would be 
 misinterpreted, her loyalty questioned ; and so 
 her last estate would be no better than her first. 
 Thus did she hold her peace and hide her tears 
 
GOOD-BYj SWEETHEART. 291 
 
 under cover of darkness, the while by day she 
 sang her daring little ditties among the growing 
 things of her garden. 
 
 Having been the arch-Royalist of the town, it 
 was but natural that public resentment should be 
 most pronounced against her. The Singletons and 
 Moores were less outspoken, and so drew upon 
 themselves less of contumely. Her caustic 
 speeches, on the contrary, were not forgotten, 
 until Mistress Strudwick threatened half tear- 
 fully, half playfully to clip her tongue with her 
 sharp scissors. But the chief thing that kept 
 alive the animosity against her were the letters 
 that came to her now and then from Cornwallis's 
 camp. She did not deny their reception, but 
 steadily refused to divulge their contents ; and 
 as it was believed that in one way or another 
 she contrived to answer them, the idea got abroad 
 that she was in the employ of the British general 
 to keep him posted as to the state of things in 
 Hillsboro'-town. Nothing else could so have set the 
 people against her as this supposed espionage, and 
 all through the advancing summer she felt the 
 weight of their displeasure. Mistress Bryce openly 
 denounced her, boys shouted disrespectful things 
 under her window at night, and the shopkeepers 
 so neglected or refused her orders that, had it not 
 been for Mistress Strudwick, she and her mother 
 would have suffered ; but that good friend stood 
 stanchly by her. So loud were the outcries 
 against her when she rode abroad that out of 
 
292 JOSCELYN CHESHIRE. 
 
 deference to her mother's wishes, and also to 
 save herself from needless mortification, she 
 never had the saddle put upon her horse. 
 
 And yet innocent enough were those letters that 
 caused so much of trouble, filled as they were, not 
 with army news, but with a man's tender love 
 throes, — the vehement pleadings of a heart swayed 
 by its first grand passion. 
 
CHAPTEK XXYI. 
 
 BY THE BELEAGUERED CITY. 
 
 " Peace ; come away ; the song of woe 
 Is after all an earthy song : 
 Peace ; come away ; we do him wrong 
 To sing so wildly : let us go." 
 
 — Tennyson. 
 
 rilHE summer seemed interminable, lit all along 
 -*- though it was with the glimmer of lilies and 
 iridescent gleams of parti-coloured roses. It was 
 the season of the year which Joscelyn loved best ; 
 but now the ceaseless sunshine, the mosaic marvels 
 of the turf, the kaleidoscopic changes of earth and 
 sky wearied her, so that she longed for the coming 
 of autumn. It came at last, unfurling its red and 
 yellow banners in the woodlands, and setting its 
 russet seal upon the meadows. And with it came 
 the news of the siege of Yorktown ; and the town 
 of Hillsboro' waked to new enthusiasm and thrilled 
 or shuddered at every alternating rumour. 
 
 And in each of those far-away armies on the 
 York w^as a man who watched the sun go west- 
 ward every eve, and sent a silent message to a girl 
 with dark hair and sea-blue eyes who pruned her 
 roses in a new garden of the Hesperides beside the 
 Eno. Unknown to each other, their thoughts had 
 
 293 
 
294 JOSCELYN CHESHIRE. 
 
 yet a common Mecca. But fate was not content 
 that they should stand thus forever apart. 
 
 In Yorktown, CornwalHs had thought to be safe 
 either to escape to Clinton or be rescued by that 
 general's fleet sailing down the Atlantic from New 
 York. But instead to the east, in Lynn Haven Bay, 
 De Grasse's ships held the passes to the sea ; while 
 on the land side — one wing on York and one on 
 Wormley creek — in two great crescents stretched 
 the lines of the allied armies, wath Warwick creek 
 running darkly between. Over the tents that 
 gleamed in the autumn sunshine there flew, side 
 by side, the stars and stripes of the Republic and 
 the fieur-de-lys of France. And there were sallies 
 and repulses, and daily encroachments and skir- 
 mishes between the allies without and the British 
 within. 
 
 It so happened one day that Richard's com- 
 pany was detailed to guard the ditchers who 
 were making a new trench, and throwing up a 
 fresh line of breastworks that would enable them 
 to draw yet nearer to the red-coated pickets. 
 Already these latter had been forced — by the 
 horns of that ever encroaching crescent — to with- 
 draw twice, and now a third retreat seemed 
 imminent. But not without a struggle w^ould 
 they yield their posts ; and so presently, on that 
 mellow autumn day, a flash of scarlet came in the 
 sun as an assaulting column swept out toward the 
 projected line where the shovels were at work; 
 and the Continental guard, after discharging their 
 
BY THE BELEAGUERED CITY. 295 
 
 guns with signal success, waited with fixed bayo- 
 nets to receive the advancing column. It was a 
 fierce contest fought almost band to hand ; then 
 the Redcoats began to fall back, and with a quick 
 rush the Continentals turned their retreat to a rout. 
 
 Returning from that fierce cliarge with the 
 flush of the fight upon him, Richard came upon a 
 man lying prone upon his face in the stubble — the 
 gallant English captain who had led the sally. 
 He had seen him as he fell far in advance of his 
 column. There the retreat had left him inside the 
 new lines of tlie Continentals, and finding him 
 still alive, Richard turned him over softly so as 
 not to start his wound afresh ; and as he did so he 
 caught one word from the pale lips : — 
 
 '"''JoscelynP 
 
 The name unlocked the floodgates of the young 
 Continental's sympathies. 
 
 "Dunn," he said to the man in front of him, 
 " give me a hand, that I may get this poor fellow 
 to my tent." 
 
 " The surgeon will find him here directly and 
 have him moved to the field hospital." 
 
 " He could not stand so long a trip ; see how 
 near he is already gone with this bullet hole in his 
 side. Come, I have a fancy not to see him die 
 here in the wet grass." 
 
 So Dunn lent his aid, and the wounded man was 
 put down in Richard's tent, murmuring again that 
 talismanic name. 
 
 " He may possibly live till morning," the sur- 
 
296 JOSCELTN CHESHIRE. 
 
 geon said, when at last he came from attending to 
 his own men, "but he cannot be moved. I will 
 try and send some one to look after him." 
 
 Richard touched his cap, " If you please, I am 
 off duty to-night ; I will willingly nurse him, if so 
 you give me directions." 
 
 And the man was left in his care ; and during 
 the slow hours, word by word and sentence by 
 sentence, he patched together the fevered ram- 
 blings of his patient, until he knew that the 
 Joscelyn of his own hopes and fears and dreams 
 was identical with the girl of this other man's 
 thoughts. 
 
 With the knowledge something seemed to catch 
 at his throat, to tighten about his heart; and he 
 went out and stood awhile at the tent door, gazing 
 up into the clear heavens whose steadfast stars 
 were shining also on the distant Carolina hills, 
 watching a window behind which a girl lay sleep- 
 ing — dreaming perhaps of the man yonder on the 
 pallet. Had he lost her through this other one ? 
 Was his life to miss its one strong purpose, in 
 missing her ? 
 
 By and by, when he was calmer, he came again to 
 the pallet where the dying man lay, and picked up 
 the sword which, along with his own, \vas propped 
 against the canvas wall of the tent. It was of beau- 
 tiful workmanship with a crest on the jewelled scab- 
 bard, and below a graven name which, by the light 
 of the tallow^ dip, Richard at last spelled out : — 
 
 " Barry." 
 
BY THE BELEAGUERED CITY. 297 
 
 He stood thinking for a moment. Why, this 
 then was the man for whom Ellen Singleton had 
 mistaken him that night he played the squire to 
 her in a borrowed military cloak at the fete in 
 Philadelphia. What strange fate had brought 
 them thus together? "The finest officer who 
 wears the red, and a lady-killer," Dunn had said. 
 And that tightness gathered again at Eichard's 
 heart, for where else had he heard of the man ? 
 
 Stay, was not Barry the name — Yes, it was the 
 very name he had heard coupled with Joscelyn's 
 that night while he lay hiding in the freezing 
 attic. "She is sitting on the stair with Captain 
 Barry." The very tones of the speaker came 
 back to him, bringing again that thirsty desire to 
 open the door and look for her which he had not 
 been able to resist, though life itself might pay 
 the forfeit. 
 
 He went back to the pallet, and bent down that 
 he might see the face of his patient. So this was 
 the man who had won her away from the rest of 
 her company, the man to whom she had bent 
 down so low that from the rear only the dark 
 crown of her hair could be seen as she sat on her 
 steps — this was the man to whose love tale she 
 had listened smilingly, while he himself was a 
 prisoner hiding for his very life. A lady-killer, 
 Dunn had said ; and well he could believe it from 
 the traces of manly beauty still lingering in the 
 suffering face. A fierce jealousy tore at his heart. 
 Evidently, from his ramblings, Joscelyn had lis- 
 
298 JOSCELTN CHESHIRE. 
 
 tened to this other's wooing, and had written him 
 letters, while she mocked him and sent him 
 never so much as one little line in answer to all 
 the pages he wrote her. He had always known 
 that other men would love her, — it could not be 
 otherwise with her sweetness and her beauty, — 
 but always in his thoughts she had kept herself for 
 him. Had it been a false hope ; had she loved 
 this brave Briton who called upon her with such 
 pathos of tenderness? If so, then was his own 
 dream-castle in ruins. 
 
 By and b}^, just before the end, there came a 
 lucid hour. The wounded man turned his eyes 
 question ingly upon his nurse. 
 
 " I found you after the fight, so far in our lines 
 that your own men had missed you in their retreat, 
 and the surgeon left you in my care," Richard said 
 gently. 
 
 " To die ? Yes, I see it in your eyes." 
 " You fell at the head of your men, as a soldier 
 wishes death to find him." 
 
 The other smiled faintly, " My mother will 
 perchance be a little comforted by that. You will 
 write her ? " 
 
 "Yes— And Joscelyn ? " 
 " Joscelyn ? — how do you happen — ? " 
 "You talked of her in your delirium. She lives 
 in the Carolina hill country. I, too, know her and 
 — love her." 
 
 And then each told something of his story 
 to the other; and they clasped hands as brave 
 
BY THE BELEAGUEKED CITY. 299 
 
 men can when enmity and prejudice and jeal- 
 ousy are swallowed up in the wide sympathy 
 that lurks forever in the precincts of the Great 
 Shadow. 
 
 " And when the war is over, and I tell her again 
 of my love," said Eichard, with that impulsive 
 generosity that was ever one of his characteristics, 
 "I will tell her also of 3'^ours — and mayhap 
 she will choose rather to cherish your memory 
 than to give herself to me." 
 
 And Barry turned his face to the wall and died, 
 whispering his love for her to the last. It was a 
 strange scene, this midnight confessional between 
 two men who, all unknown to each other, had 
 striven for the same heart-goal — who in life would 
 have been bitter and unrelenting rivals, but who 
 met and parted amid the shadows of death as 
 friends and brothers. Richard wrote it all to 
 Joscelyn, eloquently, passionately ; portraying 
 faithfully every emotion of the dying man. 
 
 "He loved you, Joscelyn, even as I do ; only not so 
 much, for methinks no man could do that. But he 
 was brave and manly, and to have won his heart is 
 proof of your sweetness and worth. He told me many 
 things of that fearful night when I lay up in your gar- 
 ret, and do^vnstairs you held your guests from all sus- 
 picion by your tact and courage. He hated Tarleton 
 for his distrust of you, and I let him go to the far 
 Shore in ignorance of how you saved me, fearing that 
 be ^^juld not understand, and that his last moments 
 would be imbittered by a useless jealousy. 
 
 " Did you love him ? Ami breaking your heart with 
 
300 JOSCELYN CHESHIRE. 
 
 this news, my best beloved? If so, remember, I 
 beseech you, how my own would break to know it." 
 
 And Joscelyn read the letter by tlie fading sun- 
 set, and then sat with wet eyes through the star- 
 haunted gloaming, thinking of the young life that 
 had gone out in the red trail of war. She missed 
 him as it did not seem possible she could have 
 missed any one who had been so short a while in 
 her consciousness. 
 
 And sitting thus alone with her sorrow, she felt 
 a hand on hers and an arm slip around her neck. 
 
 " Joscelyn, I could not stay away any longer," 
 whispered Betty's voice in the dark. " I had both 
 of your notes ; I know you are sorry, and I miss 
 you so much ! " 
 
 " Dear Betty, dear Betty, how glad I am you 
 are come ! I cannot tell you how lonely and 
 wretched my life is, and now my — my true friend 
 is gone ! " and with her head on the girl's bosom, 
 she gave way to a nervous sobbing. 
 
 " Did you love him ? " Betty asked, when at last 
 she understood. 
 
 "I — I do not know ; but I have so few friends, 
 and he loved me and trusted me, and I shall miss 
 him." 
 
 " Did you wish to marry him ? " 
 
 " I cannot say. Sometimes when I have been 
 very lonely, and you all turned from me, I have 
 thought I did. To marry him and go away to a 
 new place and new friends seemed best. He was 
 strong and brave, but he was gentle and consid- 
 
BY THE BELEAGUERED CITY. 301 
 
 erate, and he never hectored me — a girl likes not 
 to be hectored and quarrelled with in her courting." 
 
 " No," answered Betty, sadl}', understanding she 
 had Richard in mind. Often, with a Avoraan's 
 instinct, she had pleaded with her brother to 
 humour Joscelyn more in her way of looking at 
 things ; but he had chosen to attempt to set her 
 right, or, at least, right as he saw it. 
 
 " I must be going ; mother is at Mistress Strud- 
 wick's and will be angry if she knows I came 
 here," Betty said at last, rising with a sigh. But 
 Joscelyn held her back with both hands. 
 
 " Not yet, Betty, not yet ; we can see her far 
 down the street by the lights from the windows. 
 Stay a little longer ; it is such a comfort to have 
 you." 
 
 " I wish I could come without this deception." 
 
 "I, too, with all my heart." 
 
 " You had a letter to-day ; was it from Master 
 Singleton ? " 
 
 "No; it was this sad one from Richard, by the 
 same messenger that brought yours. The last 
 letter I had from Eustace was the one I sent you 
 some two weeks ago. Since he was then on the 
 eve of going to New York to carry letters to 
 General Clinton, it is not likely he is among those 
 in the beleaofuered citv of Yorktown." 
 
 "I have been so glad to think this," Betty 
 answered, sighing. " Do you know, Joscelyn, I 
 saw him in the parlour yonder for a few minutes 
 the day the British marched ? " 
 
802 JOSCELYN CHESHIRE. 
 
 " Yes ; I told mother to have you here, and 
 then I sent him back from headquarters." 
 
 Betty kissed her gratefully. " I might have 
 guessed it. It was such a happy ten minutes ! 
 But, Joscelyn, mother never mentions his name 
 except to remind me that his father and mine 
 were bitter enemies." 
 
 " Wait until Bichard comes home ; he doubtless 
 will look at matters differently ; and as he says, 
 so will your mother do." 
 
 " Not unless you plead for me ; and even that 
 may not now avail, for he may share mother's 
 anger against you." 
 
 " Bichard will not be angry with me when he 
 returns," Joscelyn answ^ered confidentl}' ; and 
 Betty kissed her softly. 
 
 " Oh, Joscelyn, if it could only have been Bich- 
 ,ard instead of Captain Barry to win even this 
 much of your heart ! But there, I must be going ; 
 some one is coming down the street." 
 
 " You will come again sometime ? " 
 
 " Yes, for I have wanted you so much." 
 
 " And I you." 
 
 They held each other close for a moment, and 
 then Betty ran across the street and dodged into 
 the shadow of her own door. Her visit helped 
 Joscelyn immeasurably, in that it gave her a 
 sense of sympathy. But she could not shake off 
 the depression of Richard's news ; it was a cul- 
 mination of the long strain upon her nervous sys- 
 tem. In the succeeding days she had fits of silent 
 
BY THE BELEAGUERED CITY. 303 
 
 brooding which sometimes, in the sombre twi- 
 lights, ended in tears. For the first time since 
 the news of Lexington, her neighbours found her 
 grave and preoccupied. The fearless badinage 
 with which she had met every attack upon her 
 partisan creed was suddenly stayed, as though 
 she heard not their thrusts and innuendoes. And 
 Mistress Strudwick watched her with a vague 
 uneasiness, longing to see the old, quick passion 
 flame up now and then. 
 
 But this frame of mind was rudely broken by 
 the thrilling news of the fall of Yorktown. She 
 had expected it for days, but the reality roused 
 all of her former spirit, and put her once more 
 upon the defensive. 
 
 "Lord Cornwallis has surrendered?" she said 
 calmly to Amanda Bryce and the two gossips, 
 who had run in to tell her the news and to gloat 
 over her discomfiture. '"Tis most courteous of 
 you to bring me the information so swiftly ; you 
 are quite out of breath with your race. I shall 
 immediately write my sincere condolences to his 
 lordship that wrong has triumphed over right. 
 Will you not have a cup of tea with me, ladies ? 
 — there is no longer any tax. iN'o? Then I have 
 the honour to wish you a very good morning. 
 Pray come again when you have further tidings." 
 
 She set the door open for them with the air of 
 a sovereign condescending to her subjects; and 
 they went away humiliated and furious. 
 
 "From the airs she gives herself, one would 
 
304r JOSCELYN CHESHIRE. 
 
 think Joscel^m Cheshire had royal blood in her 
 veins," they said angrily. But when Mistress 
 Strudwick heard of the scene, she laughed long 
 and heartily. 
 
 " They deserved it, the carping crones ! Would 
 I had been there to see them routed. Thank 
 Heaven her spirit has come back ; how I love her 
 for it, unreconstructed Tory as she is ! " 
 
 Never again was Joscelyn to deck herself in her 
 scarlet bodice in honour of an Enghsh victory ; 
 never again to tease her neighbours with her 
 taunting Tory ballads. The war was over; she 
 had lost her cause ; and with her life all out of 
 attune with her surroundings she must face the 
 inevitable. Seeing the relief in her mother's 
 face, she could not be sorry that peace had come, 
 though the terms were bitter ; and so even in her 
 loss was there something of compensation. 
 
CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 HOMECOMINGS. 
 
 *' The bugles sound the swift recall ; 
 Cling, clang ! backward all ! 
 Home, and good night ! " 
 
 — E. C. Stedman. 
 
 rriHE war was over ; the drums lay unbeaten, 
 -*- the snarling trumpets sang their songs no 
 more upon the level plains or sloping sides of far 
 blue hills ; liberty had triumphed, and the scarlet 
 insignia of kingly rule had gone from the land 
 forever. But peace did not bring the desired 
 order of things. The unstable government of an 
 untrained congress could not control the spirit of 
 maraud and chaos that had so lono- dominated 
 certain classes of people. Eight years of warfare 
 had left its scar on the whole country, but partic- 
 ularly in those portions where the fighting had 
 fallen. The sanguine among the triumphant con- 
 testants had looked for an immediate rehabilita- 
 tion of affairs, thinking that the taps of war would 
 be the reveille of commerce and order and pros- 
 perity. But as yet Americans were better soldiers 
 than statesmen. They had to learn to govern 
 themselves, learn to wield the mighty power they 
 bad won; and at first knowledge was slow in 
 
 305 
 
306 JOSCELYN CHESHIRE. 
 
 coming. Private wrongs were remembered, in- 
 dividual grievances were recalled. The spirit that 
 refrained from shouting over a fallen foe at York- 
 town manifested itself at home in many petty 
 ways against the defeated Tories, so that among 
 these latter was a feeling of unprotected helpless- 
 ness that made them sullen and restive. 
 
 " Joscelyn," Mary Singleton said, coming in one 
 day when the winter was at its fiercest, " father 
 says he is going to Canada to stay until things get 
 settled. We cannot stir from our gate without 
 receiving some rudeness, and our property is 
 threatened with confiscation, piece by piece, on the 
 ground that we used it to aid the king's cause. 
 Will you come with us ? We would love to have 
 you." 
 
 " No, for my mother would not think of such a 
 thing ; and where she is, there will I stay." 
 
 " Well, you had no man in the war ; but against 
 us the enmity is strong, because Eustace actually 
 bore arms in the king's service." 
 
 " Will Eustace go with you ? " 
 
 " No ; he writes that as soon as he gets his dis- 
 charge, he means to return here and accept what- 
 ever fate comes to him." 
 
 " I am glad. That is the right way to take hi? 
 defeat. Your father is old and worn with annoy 
 ance, but Eustace is young enough to meet the 
 struggle and win his way. Trust me ; all will 
 be well with him in the end," and Joscelyn's eyes 
 were on Betty's window over the way. 
 
HOMECOMINGS. 307 
 
 " Edward Moore joins us in New York," Marj 
 said, with a blush. 
 
 " And I shall not be there to play the part of 
 bridesmaid ! Well, I shall content myself with 
 putting a handful of rice and an old shoe into 
 your trunk." 
 
 After the Singletons were gone, Joscelyn was 
 very lonely, for the only house at which a welcome 
 always met her was Mistress Strud wick's. 
 
 " You may say what you please, Amanda Bryce, 
 but that girl comes here when she likes, and stays 
 as long as she pleases ; and if there is anybody 
 I'm gladder to see, I do not know who it is," said 
 the stanch old lady. 
 
 Soundl}'^ she lectured Joscelyn at times, but the 
 fault-finding always began and ended with a 
 caress, so there was no sting in it. Here the girl 
 sometimes met Betty ; and the older woman, seeing 
 the desire of their hearts shining in their faces, 
 encouraged them to be friends. Here, too, Janet 
 Canieron often came, and after the visit walked 
 home openly with her arm in Joscelyn's, making 
 merry little mouths at Mistress Bryce as they 
 passed her door. These visits and walks Avere 
 Joscelyn's chief pleasure, and she stood sorely in 
 need of recreation, for of late she was thinner and 
 more irritable than her mother had ever seen her. 
 
 " You need a course of bitters," Mistress Strud- 
 wick said, opening her medicine-box one day. 
 
 "I have been takino: such a course for eight 
 years." 
 
308 JOSCELYN CHESHIRE. 
 
 "Yes, Amanda Bryce's tongue drips not with 
 honey ! But I shall talk with your mother, and 
 between us we will take you in hand and get the 
 edge off your nerves." So Joscelyn dutifully 
 yielded herself to her two physicians, who took 
 much delight in the teas and tonics they brewed 
 for her. 
 
 During all these autumn and winter weeks, 
 Kichard Clevering had lain in the field hospital at 
 Yorktown, racked with pain and fever from the 
 wound he got when — singing a song of the Caro- 
 lina hills — his regiment stormed that gun-girt bas- 
 tion on the British left, and the colonies were free ! 
 
 Things would have gone better with him had 
 he been content to lie still and let the bones knit ; 
 but he could not stay away from that last scene 
 of the surrender, which made all the privations of 
 the past worth while. To miss that was to miss 
 the joy of life, the glory of the fight, the crown 
 of the conqueror ; and so he had pretended to be 
 much stronger than he was, and had gone to 
 stand in his place when the British, with silent 
 drums and cased banners, marched from their sur- 
 rendered fortifications, and stacked arms between 
 the martial lines of French and Continentals. 
 The sight compensated him for the pain the 
 exertion entailed, so that he never complained 
 when, afterw^ards, the surgeon shook his head 
 gravely over the fever that flushed his veins. 
 He had had his heart's desire ; he would bear its 
 results. 
 
HOMECOMINGS. 309 
 
 But in the early part of January, seeing a 
 tedious recovery still ahead of him, and the hos- 
 pital facilities being so limited, he asked to be 
 sent home to be cared for by his own people. 
 There would be no more fighting, and his stay 
 was an unnecessary burden upon the army offi- 
 cials, whose hands were full trying to keep down 
 the spirit of insurrection that was fermenting the 
 camp over the delay in the soldiers' pay. To 
 relieve the strain upon the monej^less army cof- 
 fers, many of the men who had been invalided 
 were allowed to return to their homes. Thus it 
 was, that Joscelyn, unconscious of the extent of 
 the hurt that had come to him — for he had 
 written no particulars home — and also of his 
 dismissal, answered a knock at her door one 
 bleak January day, and gave a great cry at 
 sight of the weary man leaning against the 
 veranda railing, with an empty sleeve pinned 
 helplessly to the bandaged arm beneath. 
 
 " Richard Clevering ! " 
 
 " Ay, Richard come back with a crushed arm, 
 but a sound heart to claim you, unworthj^ though 
 he now knows himself to be of such a prize, Jos- 
 ceh^n, Cornwallis has struck his martial colours, 
 will you surrender to me for love's dear sake ? " 
 
 He had come into the hall and closed the sway- 
 ing door against the wind, while she retreated 
 backward until she stood close to the wall, her 
 hands behind her. 
 
 "I owe you life and all the gratitude that 
 
310 JOSCELYN CHESHIEE. 
 
 means, but it is out of my love for you, which 
 has grown with every hour of my absence, that I 
 ask this — will you come to me, Joscelyn?" 
 
 She did not speak, but slowly she shook her 
 head, her eyes meeting his with a curious com- 
 passion. For one long minute he looked at her, 
 searchingly, yearningly ; then his outstretched arm 
 fell to his side. 
 
 " Then is the war not over for me," he said 
 sadly. 
 
 He went with her into the sitting-room, and, 
 with the luxurious hearth-glow briglitening his 
 face and taking that deathly pallor out of it, the 
 while her magnetic presence kindled a tempestu- 
 ous fire in his veins, he told her the story of that 
 final surrender and of his hurt, softening the 
 former narrative as best he might, remembering 
 how she had wished it otherwise. Then with a 
 half-whimsical, half-pathetic touch upon his band- 
 agred arm, he said : — 
 
 " The surgeon said that with time and care this 
 would heal, but the accident has left me but one 
 hand wherewith to begin that other campaign 
 which means so much to me, — for if I win you 
 not, I might as well have perished at the hands 
 of the Redcoats." 
 
 As she listened, while the afternoon wore away, 
 she was conscious of some change in him. Not 
 that his tone showed less of resolution to achieve 
 his purpose ; it was rather an absence of the over- 
 weening self-confidence which had so offended 
 
HOMECOMINGS. 311 
 
 her in the past. Five years of warfare and baffled 
 wooing had taught him something of self-distrust, 
 something of humility which became him well. 
 The empty sleeve and the emaciated, listless fig- 
 ure touched her with a quick pity, in such violent 
 contrast were they to his former robust activity 
 and superb proportions, so that she sighed and 
 turned her face aside. 
 
 And he, on his part, was studying her, finding 
 again, with a thrill of joy, the same saucy curves 
 about her lips, the same glinting blue lights in her 
 eyes that had held his heart captive in the past ; 
 and noting, too, the touch of womanly dignity 
 which had in some wise supplanted the impetu- 
 osity of the old days. The girl of eighteen had 
 become a woman of twenty-three since that day 
 she had laughed down upon the Continentals 
 marching away to Valley Forge. But there was 
 not an attraction lost ; rather was every charm 
 ripened and perfected by the hallowing touches 
 of growth and development. If he had loved her 
 in the past, a thousand times more did he love her 
 now in her splendid womanhood. Had she cared 
 for Barry ? Always the question was a stab ; and 
 with it now there came the first quick doubt of 
 the final healing of his arm. Could she ever love 
 him if he should be maimed like this forever ? 
 
 Looking up suddenly, she found his eyes upon 
 her face in such a wistful gaze that she flushed 
 involuntarily, and a painful silence fell between 
 them. Intuitively she felt that this was not the 
 
312 JOSCELYN CHESHIRE. 
 
 same Richard who had gone away, this earnest, 
 tender man with not a trace of arrogance in his 
 manner. Had he alwa3's been like this, they need 
 not have quarrelled. She had been willing to 
 overlook much had he only left her a right to 
 her own opinions, and treated the views her father 
 had taught her with respect. 
 
 " Do you know," she said, breaking the pause 
 with a little nervous laugh, "that if you are to 
 preserve the good will of your neighbours, you 
 must stay away from me ? " 
 
 " Then do I this minute forswear their friend- 
 ship, for to stay from you w^ould be to remain out- 
 side of Paradise. Only tell me one thing, — you 
 did not hate me for the news I wrote you of 
 Barry ? " 
 
 "Nay, it was the one of your letters I felt 
 drawn to answer." 
 
 He took her unresisting hand and kissed it 
 softly. " If you loved him, I would I had died 
 in his place." 
 
 And then again that silence fell between them, 
 w^hile at his heart was biting that most helpless of 
 all jealousy — the jealousy of the dead. Against 
 a living rival one may contend with hope ; but 
 when that on which the heart is set has come to 
 be but a memor}^ incapable of blunder or cruelty, 
 the contest becomes useless, or pitifully unequal. 
 Yearningly Richard's eyes studied the face before 
 him, and yet he would not ask her the question 
 that burned in his heart. Some day she would 
 
HOMECOMINGS. 313 
 
 tell him the truth of her own accord ; until then 
 he must wait and suffer. 
 
 His return, she foresaw, was to be to her at 
 once a relief and an embarrassment, for she 
 would not consent to his making public her 
 share in his escape of the winter, lest it look like 
 a plea on her part for a cessation of hostilities. 
 
 "I have held my own against them all these 
 years ; 1 will not ask for any terras, now that the 
 end has come, and my side has gone down in de- 
 feat," she said. 
 
 " But, Joscelyn, think how they would adore you 
 for such a service to their countrj'^ ! My informa- 
 tion was most useful to General Greene." 
 
 " I did it not for sake of their country." 
 
 " Well, then, for sake of their countryman. They 
 love me, if you do not." He leaned toward her 
 laughing, yet pleading ; and she noted how hon- 
 est and pleasant were his eyes. But she held to 
 her point against all of his arguments; and so 
 he was feign to yield except in regard to his 
 mother; there he was firm. 
 
 " I never dreamed but that she knew, for the 
 quick movements of the last campaign left no 
 time for letters to reach me from home. Had I 
 not thought you would tell her as soon as the 
 British were well out of town, I should have 
 asked a furlough, and come home to set you 
 right. To think what you have suffered for 
 saving my poor life ! " 
 
 And so it was that half an hour later Mistress 
 
314 JOSCELTN CHE8HIEE. 
 
 Cleveri ng came hastily in without the ceremony 
 of knocking, and taking Joscelyn in her arms, — 
 ta Mistress Cheshire's amazement, — said many 
 grateful and affectionate things. 
 
 " When I think of what you have done for us, 
 I am bowed down with humiliation for the cruelty 
 with which I have requited you. Oh, my dear, my 
 dear! had you only told me and your mother at 
 the time, things would have been very different." 
 
 "Yes," answered the girl, demurely, "so differ- 
 ent that Master Clevering's life would have paid 
 the penalty of his daring, l^ay, it was a game 
 at which only one could play with safety. You 
 could have done naught but share my anxiety, 
 and that were no help." 
 
 " And to think how I have scolded and blamed 
 you for the quarrel between me and Ann," said 
 her mother, tearfully ; but Joscelyn's tender 
 answer comforted her. 
 
 " And here comes Betty to make her peace with 
 you, too," Aunt Clevering said, as the breathless 
 girl entered, 
 
 " Oh, Betty and I have been friends these many 
 weeks, as dear Mistress Strudwick can testify," 
 Joscelyn said, putting her arm affectionately 
 around Betty, who with a grateful cry had sprung 
 to her side. And from the doorway, Richard 
 thought he had never seen a more beautiful 
 picture. 
 
 Thus was the breach that had yawned between 
 the two families healed ; and the sorest ache in 
 
HOMECOMINGS. 315 
 
 Joscelyn's heart was cured as she witnessed the 
 happiness of her mother who, with a firmness 
 scarcely to be expected, had given up her old 
 friend and held stanchly to her daughter, although 
 she held that daughter to blame. It was touching 
 to see her childish delight in the renewal of the old 
 relations. A dozen times a day she was in and out 
 of the two houses, for Richard's wound afforded her 
 many pretexts for kindly ministrations. He never 
 left his bed except to lie on the sofa by the win- 
 dow, for his strength seemed suddenly to have 
 failed him after the sustained effort he had made 
 to reach home. Often he wished Joscelyn would 
 come in her mother's stead ; but for her own 
 reasons the girl kept her distance, so that some- 
 times he did not see her for days together. And 
 every day that she stayed away the jealous pain bit 
 deeper into his heart. 
 
 But one day she came of her own accord. There 
 had been a knock and the sound of a man's voice 
 at the door, followed by the maid making some 
 excuse for Mistress Clevering ; and presently, 
 when all had grown silent, Betty came through 
 the sitting-room with a face so white that Richard 
 called out from where he lay to know what was 
 the matter. But she did not stop to answer, and 
 so he waited in a troubled doubt while the clock 
 ticked off a slow twenty minutes. Then the door 
 opened, and Joscelyn came straight up to his couch, 
 a strange light of pleading in her eyes. 
 
 "Richard," she said, and his face brightened, 
 
816 JOSCELYN CHESHIRE. 
 
 for she had taken to calling him Master Clever- 
 ing with a formality he hated. "Richard, if a 
 man be true and honest and loves a woman, 
 should he not have the chance to tell her so 
 and win her ? " 
 
 " Most assuredly." 
 
 " And old feuds and differences of a former 
 generation, with which he had nothing to do, 
 should have no weight to hold him back?" 
 
 " Why — what mean you ? " 
 
 " This ; that even as you love me," and a brill- 
 iant colour dyed her cheeks at mention of it, " so 
 does Eustace Singleton love Betty." 
 
 "I had half guessed as much — and I am 
 sorry." 
 
 " And Betty loves him. Nay, lie still and look 
 not so angrily at me. There is no one to blame ; 
 a woman's heart, like a man's, asks no permission 
 in the giving of itself." 
 
 " But Betty knew — " 
 
 " Yes, she knew all the opposition in store for 
 her, and she made her own fight; but love takes 
 no dictation." 
 
 " Right well do I know that." 
 
 "Then you have no room for a quarrel with 
 her ; rather should your sympathy be on her side. 
 All her happiness is set on Eustace; he is her 
 true lover, has been for years, — and I have 
 resolved so to aid her, that you and Aunt Clever- 
 ing shall not break her heart by a cruel and use- 
 less separation." She stepped back and threw up 
 
HOMECOMINGS. 317 
 
 her head ; just so had she looked a year ago, 
 when she bade defiance to the short colonel 
 while he himself crouched in her shadowy garret. 
 For a moment they gazed at each other steadily, 
 then she was again beside him, her eyes luminous 
 with a gentle entreaty : — 
 
 "Eichard, if — if I loved you with all ray soul, 
 would you let my mother's dislike, if she did dis- 
 like you, stand between us ? " 
 
 " My God, no ! " 
 
 "Eustace is a man like you — and Betty loves 
 him like that." 
 
 He saw the drift of her meaning but he did not 
 answer, and thus for another minute they looked 
 into each other's eyes unwaveringly ; then his 
 gaze fell, and with a sudden delicious softening 
 of manner, she stooped and took his hand. 
 
 " Richard, Eustace is yonder in my parlour, — 
 come back like a brave man to begin life all 
 over, and suffer an3^thing to be near Betty. He 
 has been denied entrance at your door. Bid me 
 bring him here to you. If not — then will I take 
 Betty to him, even though I should thus lose 
 yours and Aunt Clevering's friendship forever." 
 
 " You make hard terms." 
 
 " I am dealing with a hard man.'' 
 
 " Think you so, sweetheart ? Methought I had 
 ever been gentle to you. Betty's happiness is 
 very dear to me — " he broke off, sighing. She 
 still held his hand, or rather he held hers, for his 
 was the stronger grasp. Suddenly, with that 
 
318 JOSCELYN CHESHIRE. 
 
 same enchanting gentleness, she bent close to 
 him, and laid her cheek against ■ his tingling 
 fingers : — ■ 
 
 "Thank you, Eichard, for yielding; I knew 
 when once you understood, you could not be so 
 cruel as to refuse. I will bring Eustace at once." 
 
 "But, Joscelyn, I did not say — " 
 
 "Oh, but you looked your consent — and 1 
 never saw your eyes so beautiful, such a tender 
 gray." He flushed with pleasure, still, however, 
 protesting, but she was already at the door, 
 whence she looked back at him with a roguish 
 smile, "I shall give you half an hour to make 
 Aunt Clevering see things as we do. At the end 
 of that time I will be here with Eustace ; and if 
 you wish to go on being friends with me, be sure 
 to have on your very best manners and — and 
 that beautiful light in your eyes." 
 
 She kept her word; no one ever knew w^hat 
 passed between Richard and his mother, but an 
 hour later Mistress Clevering, stiff of lip, but 
 courteous of manner, bade Betty take Master 
 Singleton from Eichard's room to the parlour, 
 and find him some refreshment. And when 
 Betty had obeyed, Joscelyn softly closed the 
 door behind them, shutting them into a rose- 
 hued world of their own, where it were sacrilege 
 for another to intrude. Upstairs she heard 
 Eichard calling her entreatingly, but remem- 
 bering by what means her victory over his preju- 
 dice had been won, she pretended not to hear, 
 
HOMECOMINGS. 319 
 
 but ran swiftly into the street, and reached Mis- 
 tress Strudwick's door with such a glowing face 
 that that lady exclaimed : — 
 
 " Hoity-toity, child ! still letting your cheeks 
 play the Eoyalist, although the war is done? 
 i'our sweetheart should see you now. In sooth, 
 I think Amanda Bryce w^ould even agree that 
 you are pretty. Come here and tell an old 
 woman what all these blushes mean." 
 
 And Joscelyn's fibbing tongue said it was only 
 the race she had run in the wind from her door. 
 
CHAPTEE XXVIII. 
 
 AJS UNANSWERED QUESTION. 
 
 *' As o'er the grass, beneath the larches there 
 We gayly stepped, the high noon overhead, 
 Then Love was born — v?as born so strong and fair." 
 
 — Gipsy Song. 
 
 A LTHOUGH Joscelyn continued to bold her- 
 •^-^ self aloof from Richard, yet she was con- 
 scious of his protecting influence in other ways 
 besides the healing of that family quarrel that had 
 been such a burden to her and to them all. Most 
 of the women of her set continued to cut her out- 
 right, or to treat her with the scantest courtesy ; 
 but there were no more threats concerning her; 
 the boys who had hooted under her window left 
 off their insolent ways, and the merchants and 
 tradespeople no longer gave her indifferent service. 
 And in all this she recognized Richard's work, for 
 he had openly espoused her cause, and had let it 
 be known that those who offended or ill-used her 
 should later on be answerable to him. From the 
 day of his coming, she felt herself shadowed by 
 an unobtrusive but persistent watchfulness that 
 plucked many a thorn from her path ; and after 
 the stormy months that had passed, she could not 
 but be grateful for the calm. Invalid though he 
 was, she intuitively felt his to be the stronger will, 
 
 320 
 
AN UNANSWERED QUESTION. 321 
 
 and made no fight against what he did in her be- 
 half. The protection for which she had longed 
 had come to her, and she was glad to feel his 
 strength between her and her persecutors. Never 
 in any boastful way did he remind her of the 
 defeat of her cause ; and tacitly she acknowledged 
 his generosity. The very perils they had shared 
 drew them together with that subtle bond of sym- 
 pathy a mutual interest creates ; and so seldom 
 was there a return to their former sparring that 
 Mistress Strudwick protested she knew not which 
 had the better manners. 
 
 " I declare, my dear," she said, pinching Josce- 
 lyn's cheek, "you are so beautifully behaved of 
 late that I begin to find you a bit tiresome. Me- 
 thinks I must stir up Amanda Bryce to pay you 
 a visit and talk over the war, or else we'll all be 
 stao^natino; for lack of excitement." 
 
 " Well, after these eight years of fermentation, 
 stagnation is just now the special estate to which 
 I aspire." 
 
 " So ? "Well, Richard here prefers the estate of 
 matrimony. Is it not true, my lad ? " And from 
 the sofa Richard's eyes said yes ; whereupon the 
 old lady went on, nodding her head with mock 
 solemnity, " And since one of you wants stagnation 
 and one wants matrimony, I am not so sure but 
 that you are of the same mind, for some folk find 
 these things of a piece. And so, miss, you may 
 have come around to Richard's way of thinking 
 after all," 
 
322 JOSCELTN CHESHIRE. 
 
 And seeing Joscelyn stiffen, Eichard was sorry 
 that the conversation had taken such a personal 
 turn ; for the two had come in to pay him a visit. 
 That was one thing that troubled him — she never 
 came by herself; always it was her mother or 
 Betty or Janet Cameron she brought with her as 
 though she feared to trust herself alone with him, 
 wishing, perchance, to hear no more of his love- 
 makino-. And even with these others she came so 
 seldom. He could not go to her, for the hard 
 rough journey home had racked his arm and set the 
 fever to'throbbing again in his blood, and he must 
 remain quiet, or dire consequences were threatened. 
 
 But one February night, when she had stayed 
 away several days, and the longing in his breast 
 grew unbearable, he sent for her. The wind with- 
 out howled like some hungry creature seeking its 
 prey, and the white-fingered spirit of the snow- 
 storm tapped weirdly at his window. But he gave 
 it no heed ; storm or shine, he must see her this 
 night of all others; and so a word of entreaty 
 was sent across the street. She came at once, a 
 brilliant apparition in a scarlet shawl over which 
 the snow lay powdered in shining crystals ; on her 
 lips and in her eyes the smile of which he had 
 dreamed in the copper and crimson sunsets on the 
 prison-ship. He gathered her cold hands into his 
 feverish ones. 
 
 " You knew I must see you this night? " 
 
 " Yes ; I felt you would send for me, for I knew 
 we were thinking of the same things." 
 
AN UNANSWERED QUESTION. 323 
 
 " A year ago to-night you and I stood in jeopardy 
 of our lives." 
 
 She nodded ; all day she had been living over 
 those fearful hours of which this day was the 
 anniversary. 
 
 " Yes, a year ago to-night Tarleton held us in 
 his toils." 
 
 " We have never talked of that dreadful time ; 
 now I want you to tell me everything you can 
 recall of it. Sit down." 
 
 As she obeyed, tlie wide shawl fell away and left 
 in sight the silver brocade of her gown, and her 
 shoulders rising white and beautiful from the lace 
 of the low bodice. He started, and raised himself 
 upon his elbow. Was he dreaming? No; the 
 powder and the rose were in her hair, the saucy 
 patch at the corner of her mouth. She had not 
 forgotten ; just so had she looked when she faced 
 Tarleton, and risked her womanhood for his own 
 safety. He could not speak, but his eyes did full 
 homage to her beauty. 
 
 " I knew you would send for me, so I was 
 ready," she said, and smiled again. So it was 
 for him she had robed herself thus ! — there 
 was a thrill of ecstasy in his veins. And then 
 when he still did not speak, for sheer joy of 
 looking at her, she began to talk of that terrible 
 day ; and both of them lived over in a quick rush 
 of memory all its hopes and fears, its uncertainties 
 and dangers. Her fingers were icy cold, and the 
 very tremors that had then possessed her, crept 
 
324 JOSCELTN CHESHIRE. 
 
 again through her veins as she went from scene 
 to scene, and he learned for the first time all of 
 her deceptions and trials. So absorbed was she 
 that she did not even know he had taken her 
 hands in his, until she felt the hot pressure at 
 the end of her narrative. Then when there 
 seemed nothing left to tell, and he still looked 
 at her in a silence more eloquent than words, 
 she grew restless and rose to go; but he caught 
 her skirt. 
 
 "Not yet, not yet! Betty is happy with her 
 lover in the parlour, and mother is somewhere 
 down there acting propriety or else fast asleep. 
 For this one evening, at least, you shall belong to 
 
 me." 
 
 And then when those hot, trembling fingers had 
 drawn her again to her seat, he went on : — 
 
 " There is one question I have wanted to ask you 
 all these months — " And then, for very fear of 
 her answer, he hesitated and substituted another. 
 " Why did you not come back to me that last 
 night? You knew I was waiting for you, long- 
 ing for you with every heart-throb." 
 
 " It was so late." 
 
 "Late? What mattered an hour on the dial 
 when I wanted you so much?" 
 
 And she flushed and hesitated, remembering she 
 had not gone back at that unseemingly hour lest he 
 should misunderstand her; men were so cold in 
 their judgments. Looking at him now she was 
 ashamed of that doubt of him. 
 
AN UNANSWERED QUESTION. 325 
 
 "Was it in truth the lateness of the hour, or — 
 or because of what Barry said to you on the stair ? 
 I opened the attic door and saw you, and I knew 
 he was talking of his love. My God, how I 
 envied him ! Was it for that you stayed away 
 from me ? " 
 
 She turned her head aside with a gesture that 
 hurt him like a knife-thrust. Then the question 
 that had burnt in his thoughts, and filled his 
 heart with cankering jealousy all these weeks, 
 came out : — 
 
 " Joscelyn, did you love him ? Tell me the truth 
 in mercy." 
 
 Slowly her eyes came back to him, soft and blue, 
 and kindled with a flame he had never seen before. 
 He rose on his elbow to meet the answer, eager 
 yet fearful ; but before she could speak, Betty 
 opened the door. 
 
 "Eustace and I are coming to sit with you 
 awhile, Eichard, for you two must be better 
 acquainted," she said to him ; and with the 
 blindness that is a part of love, neither she nor 
 Eustace saw that their coming was unwelcome. 
 Before they left, Joscelyn had slipped away, 
 carrying his question and its answer in her 
 heart. But before she went to bed, she opened 
 the box where she kept her treasures, and kneel- 
 ing in front of her fire, laid upon the glowing 
 embers the scarlet sash of an officer in the king's 
 service. 
 
 " I have no right to keep you any longer," she 
 
3^6 JOSCELYN CHESHIRE. 
 
 whispered, as the silk cracked and crinkled, and 
 passed away in a smoke-fringed flame ; " no right, 
 for now I know, I know ! " 
 
 The quiet of the town was now frequently 
 broken ; for as February drew to a close, some of 
 the soldiers began to straggle home, some on fur- 
 lough, some on dismissal. Billy Bryce, hungry for 
 the toothsome things in his mother's pantry and im- 
 patient for a sight of the yellow curls that sunned 
 themselves on Janet's head, came first. But ten 
 minutes spent in that young woman's company so 
 dampened his spirits, that for daj^s his mother's 
 utmost efforts in culinary arts failed to tempt him. 
 Janet knew the very hour of his arrival, and she 
 also knew that it was two hours before he came to 
 seek her. She could not know that his stay with 
 his mother had been as unwilling as it Avas dutiful ; 
 so to complicate matters a little more she had 
 gone out to pay some calls that might have 
 waited a month. But he found her at last on 
 Josceljm's porch, her hands in her muff, her curls 
 bobbing from under her hood to the fur-trimraed 
 tippet below, where the winter sunshine seemed to 
 gather itself into a focus. He waved to her from 
 halfway down the square, but she only squinted 
 up her eyes as in a vain effort at recognition. 
 
 " Well, I declare," she exclaimed patronizingly, 
 as he sprang eagerly up the steps, "if it isn't 
 Mistress Bryce's little Billy ! Why, Billy, child, 
 you must have grown quite an inch since you 
 went away. How is your dear mother to-day ? " 
 
AN UNANSWERED QUESTION. 327 
 
 Her tone and manner were indescribablv 
 superior, as though she were talking to a child of 
 six, so that the amazed and abashed boy, instead 
 of hugging her in his long arms as he wanted to, 
 took the tips of the little fingers she put out to 
 him, and stammeringly and solicitously asked if 
 she had been quite well since he saw her last. She 
 said it was a long time to remember, but she 
 wouid do the best she could, and immediately 
 beo^an to count off on her fincrers the number of 
 headaches and toothaches she had had in the past 
 two years ; until Josceh^n, sorry for the boy's un- 
 provoked misery, stopped her abrupth", and finall}'- 
 sent Billy across the street to pour out his disap- 
 pointment to Richard. 
 
 "Janet, you little barbarian, you have no 
 heart ! " 
 
 " Oh, yes I have," replied that imperturbable 
 young woman ; " I have a great big heart for a 
 grown man, but you see I do not particularly care 
 for children who are still dangling at their mother's 
 apron string." 
 
 Even a lecture from Richard, to whom she was 
 much attached, did her no good ; for all the while 
 he was speaking she sat studying the effect of her 
 high-heeled shoe on Betty's blue footstool, and 
 answered his peroration about Bilh^'s broken 
 heart with the utterly irrelevant assertion that 
 Frederick Wyley said she had the prettiest foot in 
 the colonies. Did Richard agree with him ? So 
 Billy's cause was not advanced any, and Richard 
 
328 JOSCELTN CHESHIRE. 
 
 besan to advise him to think no more of this 
 yellow-haired tormentor. 
 
 " I declare, Billy Bryce looks like a child with 
 perpetual cramps," Mistress Strudwick exclaimed 
 to Joscelyn one day, when the lad passed the 
 window where the two sat ; and then she glanced 
 down the room to her medicine-box. 
 
 " But it is a course of sweets, not bitters, that he 
 needs," lauo:hed Joscelvn. " It's his heart and not 
 his stomach that ails Billy." 
 
 " Half the lovesickness in the world is nothing 
 but dyspepsia ; mighty few cases of disappointed 
 affection outlast a torpid liver." 
 
 " I never heard you make such an unsenti- 
 mental remark." 
 
 " You never heard me tell such a truth. Bone- 
 set and senna is the thing for Billy, and I'll see 
 that he gets a bottle ; if it does not cure his dis- 
 appointment, it will at least kill off that particu- 
 lar brand of long face he is wearing. No wonder 
 Janet turns up her nose at him." 
 
 " Yes, I begin to think she is permanently at 
 outs with him." 
 
 Then other soldiers began to arrive. Thomas 
 Nash got sick-leave from Washington's staff; 
 and from the south came Master Strudwick, 
 more anxious for a sight of home and wife than 
 for the gold Avhich the dissatisfied army was 
 awaiting; and out of the north came Peter 
 Kuffin, a weird wraith of his former self, to tell 
 anew the horrible story of the prison-ships. The 
 
AN UNANSWERED QUESTION. 329 
 
 other Hillsboro' man, who had been with him had 
 succumbed to the plague, and gone to swell the 
 number of those at whose shallow graves the 
 hungry sea was forever calling. 
 
 " And Dame Grant ? " asked Richard, when 
 Peter came to see him. 
 
 " She, too, fell a victim to the disease of the 
 hulks, and sorely did we miss her. I knew you 
 had escaped in safety, because one day she came 
 to the ship wearing a new woollen hood, and 
 when we twitted her about it over the rail, ask- 
 ing her if it was a lover's gift, she said that Dick 
 Clevering's sweetheart had sent it to her out of 
 gratitude from the south." 
 
 "I helped to knit it," Betty cried, while Josce- 
 lyn's eyes were not lifted from the floor. In the 
 semi-twilight of the room, Richard reached out 
 and touched her hand gently. 
 
 " It was like your generous heart." 
 
 " But I made it out of the reddest wool I could 
 find, with never a touch of blue or buff," she 
 answered, laughing ; but Richard was content. 
 
 Nor did these home-coming men bring the only 
 tidings from the outside world. Now and then 
 letters came that set the tongues to wagging; 
 now with news of Washington's refusal of a 
 crown, now with a description of Mary Single- 
 ton's marriage to Edward Moore. Janet refused 
 persistently to show her letters which came in the 
 Hahfax post, but one day Richard had one from 
 Colborn that made him laugh with delight : — 
 
330 JOSCELYN CHESHIEE. 
 
 " The miniature is set in a narrow gold frame, with- 
 out jewels ; for although I won my promotion, it was 
 only a lieutenancy. However, I am content. It was 
 at Guilford Court-house, in your own Carolina coun- 
 try, the day Tarleton was wounded. Soon I am going 
 home, with my pockets full of American pebbles, to 
 claim the original, and bring her back here to this 
 great country to enjoy the freedom I am glad you 
 won." 
 
 And when Josceljn went home, after hearing 
 the letter read, she again opened her box of 
 treasures and took from it a shining gold piece, 
 and looked at it with a startled sweetness in her 
 eyes. 
 
"'My heart's prisoner for time and eternitv.' " 
 
CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 THE END OF THE THREAD. 
 
 ** Does not all the blood within me 
 Leap to meet thee, leap to meet thee, 
 As the spring to meet the sunshine ! " 
 
 — "Hiawatha." 
 
 A FTEE. a few weeks Richard was able to leave 
 ■^-^ his couch and move about a little, still ham- 
 pered, however, by splints and bandages; for in 
 his fevered tossings he had hurt his arm anew, and 
 the setting had to be gone over again. The doc- 
 tor's face was very grave as he warned him against 
 another accident. 
 
 One afternoon, being lonely and having no 
 better way to pass the time, he went with Betty 
 to her sewing society. There he protested he 
 wished to make himself useful, and was quite 
 willing to snip threads and tie knots. But his 
 offer was received with scoffs, and instead he was 
 forthwith enthroned in the best chair, served with 
 coffee by one girl, and with cake by another, and 
 petted and praised like a prince. 
 
 " And now," said Janet Cameron, taking the 
 stool at his feet and preparing to look very busy, 
 " while we sew, you shall tell us a story of your 
 camp life, — something that will make our blood 
 
 331 
 
332 JOSCELYN CHESHIRE. 
 
 curdle and tingle like it used to do when the war 
 messengers rode into town, and we knew not what 
 tidings they brought." 
 
 " Yes, tell us a story. Master Clevering," they 
 all cried, and settled themselves to listen. 
 
 "Let it be about a real hero, Richard; and 
 make him as tall as Goliath and as strong as Sam- 
 son. We'll credit anything you say," laughed 
 Janet, biting off a length of thread. 
 
 " And if you wish to keep Janet's attention to 
 the end, give him jet black hair and call him 
 Frederick," cried Dorothy Graham. \Yhereat 
 there was a general laugh, and for which person- 
 ality the speaker got a prick from Janet's 
 needle. 
 
 " One need not draw on his imagination for 
 heroes in these stirring times, Janet. The land 
 is full of them," Eichard answered, catching 
 one of her shining curls and twisting it about his 
 finger, " though of course jet black hair and the 
 name of Frederick is a combination to inspire any 
 story-teller." 
 
 And then he told them of Monmouth day, — 
 of its exultant beginning, its strange changes and 
 chances, its palsying despair, its victory snatched 
 from defeat. And while the story was nearing 
 its climax and the needles were idlest, who should 
 pass along the opposite sidewalk but Mistress 
 Joscelyn Cheshire, her skirts held daintily out of 
 the slush and snow, while a riotous March wind 
 set her throat ribbons in a flutter, and kissed her 
 
THE END OF THE THREAD. 333 
 
 cheeks to a glow a lover might have envied. A 
 more charming vision it was hard to conjure up, 
 and the story-teller's narrative faltered, and his 
 words trailed off into silence as he gazed. But 
 immediately the slumbering ill-will of the semp- 
 sters began to show itself in sundry nods and 
 head tossings. 
 
 " There goes the Tory beauty," said one sneer- 
 mg voice, " parading herself before us out of very 
 defiance, no doubt." 
 
 "She has been but to old Polly Little's to 
 carry her some soup," Betty said hotly. 
 
 " And there was no other afternoon for her to 
 go, and no other path to take but the one by this 
 door where we might see her ! You and Richard 
 are foolish to be always defending her ; she showed 
 you small gratitude last winter, telling the secrets 
 of your house." 
 
 " Yes ; and we know she sent and received spy- 
 ing letters about us to the British commander. I 
 never speak to her, Tory ingrate that she is ! " 
 
 And then while Betty fell to crying and Janet 
 scolded back, declaring Joscelyn was better than 
 all of them, the criticisms grew so harsh, and so 
 incisive were the shrugs and lifted brows, that 
 Richard forgot his wound, forgot the pledge of 
 secrecy upon him, forgot everything but his anger, 
 and rising up, cried out : — ■ 
 
 " Listen ; I will tell you another story, not of a 
 hero, but of a heroine, a slip of a girl whose cour- 
 age equalled anything I ever saw upon the bloodi- 
 
334 JOSCELYN CHESHIRE. 
 
 est battle-field, in whose presence the bravest of 
 the brave must uncover in reverence." 
 
 And then he told them the whole story of his 
 hiding and escape while Cornwallis held the town 
 the winter gone. Told it forcibly, graphically as 
 he knew how, putting Joscelyn in such a heroic 
 light that her maligners held down their heads in 
 shame and confusion, feeling themselves to be all 
 unworthy in comparison ; and Dorothy was cry- 
 ing upon her sewing, and Janet's arm was about 
 his neck in an unconscious, breathless gratitude 
 for Joscelyn. 
 
 And those letters which had excited their 
 wrath? — there was nothing of treason or espi- 
 onage in them ; they were but love notes from 
 a British officer whose chivalric homage had 
 been an honour to any woman. He knew, for he 
 had put her answers into the breastpocket of the 
 young officer the day they buried him from the 
 battle-field on the banks of the river that flows 
 forever to the sea. 
 
 So he finished ; and thus did Joscelyn stand 
 before them at last in her true colours. 
 
 Then with the heat of his anger still upon him, 
 and not waiting for Betty, Kichard got his hat 
 and quitted the house. After that scene, the air 
 of the room stifled him. He could not be sorry 
 for w^hat he had done, but he must go straight to 
 Joscelyn and tell her himself, and make what 
 peace with her he might. He could better afford 
 to bear her anger than to hear her maligned by 
 
THE END OF THE THREAD. 335 
 
 those who would be utterly incapable of her cour- 
 age or her sacrifice. He had always known he 
 must tell his story if he heard her slandered. 
 
 He was very weak from his long stay indoors, 
 and the excitement of the scene through which 
 he had just passed had left his brain dizzy, so that 
 he was all unfit to take the homeward journey 
 alone. He did not notice the ice on the crossing 
 until suddenly he felt himself slipping — faster, 
 faster. He made one frantic effort to regain his 
 balance, missed his footing, and came down with 
 a crash and a groan upon the jagged cobble- 
 stones. He heard a woman's voice scream out 
 in terror, saw Joscelyn kneel beside him, and 
 then he fainted. 
 
 It destroyed his last chance, — that terrible fall, 
 — the doctors said ; for the arm had again been 
 fractured and lacerated beyond cure, and to lose 
 it was the one hope of life ; and even that hope 
 was but a slender one. When Joscelyn heard 
 this, she stayed all the afternoon in her room, 
 holding the gold piece very hard and tight and 
 weeping bitterly. 
 
 But the operation was successful ; and for long 
 days the patient lay quiet, getting back his hold 
 on the world. His recovery was slower even 
 than had been expected, but it was sure, and 
 that was enough for thankfulness. His mother 
 was telling him this one gusty April twilight, 
 w'hen Joscelyn came into the room on one of 
 her rare visits. The door was open, so they had 
 
336 JOSCELYN CHESHIRE. 
 
 not known she was there ; and stopping to 
 remove her wrap, for the day was cool and 
 showery, she heard the end of their talk. 
 
 "Fretting is wrong, Eichard, You should be 
 thankful for so sure a recovery." 
 
 " Perchance I should ; but what avails health 
 when a man may not have that which is dearer 
 than the strength of giants?" 
 
 " And what may that be, my son ? " 
 
 "Joscelyn. I love her — love her beyond all 
 words, all thoughts; and now I shall never 
 possess her." 
 
 "I had long ago guessed your love for her," 
 his mother said slowly ; then added, after a pause, 
 " but I see not why you should not possess her ; 
 you have a true heart, a goodly property, and a 
 shapely figure which this accident will scarcely 
 mar ; a man like that has but to ask — " 
 
 "Nay, that is just it; a man maimed like me 
 has no right to hamper a woman's life — to ask 
 her love. She is grateful for the protection I 
 have brought her, but she has no thought for me 
 beside. I lie here and watch that clock every 
 hour of every day, longing to see her come, hop- 
 ing for some sign of awakened love, but there is 
 none. That she comes so seldom is evidence that 
 she means me to understand this. I shall never 
 dare ask her again to marry me, but I shall love 
 her always — always." 
 
 There was an infinite pathos in the last words 
 that silenced his mother, and drew something like 
 
THE END OF THE THREAD. 337 
 
 a sob from the girl in the shadow of the curtained 
 door. How generous he was ; how brave and true 
 he had always been ! Never once, even in their 
 days of quarrel and make-up, had she known him 
 lacking in courage and generosity. What would 
 her life be now without him, for had he not made 
 all the crooked ways straight before her; had he 
 not given her back the love and esteem of her 
 neighbours, her old place in the community? 
 Was it not to him she owed all this, and her 
 mother's happiness besides? Gratitude, did he 
 say? Surely that was not all there was in her 
 heart, for gratitude did not make a girl shy and 
 sensitive and dreamy. It was not gratitude that 
 had made her weep so passionately over his suffer- 
 ing and his loss, and kiss a senseless coin in the 
 dark of her chamber. From that hour she had 
 worn it in a silken bag about her neck ; she drew 
 it out now and held it in her trembling fingers. 
 
 Presently Mistress Clevering rose and quitted 
 the room by another door, unwilling that Richard 
 should see her emotion. Joscelyn hesitated upon 
 the threshold, held back by a palpitant timidity, 
 until across the firelit silence there came her name 
 in a sigh that was half a sob : — 
 
 " Joscelyn — lost — lost ! " 
 
 Then with a sudden resolve she came out of the 
 shadow into the dim ±ight of the room, and kneel- 
 ing by his couch, drew his one arm over her shoul- 
 der and laid her head on his breast. 
 
 "I am here — Richard." 
 
338 JOSCELTN CHESHIRE. 
 
 " You ? Dear love, dear love, what does this 
 mean ? " 
 
 "Can you not guess?" she whispered, slipping 
 the gold piece into his hand, her own tremulous 
 with emotion. 
 
 " I dare not." 
 
 " What was the gold piece to be ? " Her voice 
 was scarcely more than a thread of sound. 
 
 " Our wedding ring — at least, I hoped so 
 once," 
 
 She pressed his fingers together over it, her 
 face still hidden on his breast. " Give it back to 
 me sometime — in that shape." 
 
 " You mean you will marry me ? Speak quick, 
 beloved ! " 
 
 " I mean that — that the war is over, and I sur- 
 render myself — your prisoner, an you will take 
 me." 
 
 "My heart's prisoner for time and eternity; 
 thank God ! " 
 
 A burned-out log snapped and fell to either side 
 of the andirons, sending a shower of golden sparks 
 up the wide chimney. She raised her head and 
 looked at him, and by the fleeting gleam of the 
 fire he found at last the love-light for which he 
 had so long waited shining in the depths of her 
 sea-blue eyes. 
 
-M 
 
 V