CHAPTER XXI.
FRANCES REMINDS MR. HARPER OF HIS PROMISE.
Frances could no longer doubt that the figure she had seen on the hillwas Birch, and she felt certain that, instead of flying to thefriendly forces below, her brother would be taken to the mysterioushut to pass the night. Therefore she held a long and animateddiscussion with her aunt; when the good spinster reluctantly yieldedto the representation of her niece, and folding her in her arms, shekissed the cold cheek and fervently blessing her allowed her to departon an errand of fraternal love.
The night had set in dark and chilling as Frances Wharton, with abeating heart but light step, moved through the little garden that laybehind the farm-house which had been her brother's prison, and tookher way to the foot of the mountain, where she had seen the figure ofhim she supposed to be the peddler.
Without pausing to reflect, however, she flew over the ground with arapidity that seemed to bid defiance to all impediments, nor stoppedeven to breathe, until she had gone half the distance to the rock thatshe had marked as the spot where Birch made his appearance on thatvery morning.
When she heard the footsteps of a horse moving slowly up the road, sheshrank timidly into a little thicket of wood which grew around thespring that bubbled from the side of a hillock near her. Franceslistened anxiously to the retreating footsteps of the horse; and, asthey died upon her ear, she ventured from her place of secrecy andadvanced a short distance into the field, where, startled at the gloomand appalled with the dreariness of the prospect, she paused toreflect on what she had undertaken.
Throwing back the hood of her cardinal,[121] she sought the supportof a tree and gazed towards the summit of the mountain that was to bethe goal of her enterprise. It rose from the plain like a hugepyramid, giving nothing to the eye but its outlines.
[Footnote 121: a woman's short cloak.]
Frances turned her looks towards the east, in earnest gaze at theclouds which constantly threatened to involve her again in comparativedarkness. Had an adder stung her, she could not have sprung withgreater celerity than she recoiled from the object against which shewas leaning, and which she had for the first time noticed. The twoupright posts, with a cross-beam on their tops and a rude platformbeneath, told but too plainly the nature of the structure; even thecord was suspended from an iron staple, and was swinging to and fro inthe night air. Frances hesitated no longer, but rather flew than ranacross the meadow, and was soon at the base of the rock, where shehoped to find something like a path to the summit of the mountain. Shesoon found a sheep-path that wound round the shelving rocks and amongthe trees.
Nearly an hour did she struggle with the numerous difficulties thatshe was obliged to overcome; when, having been repeatedly exhaustedwith her efforts, and, in several instances, in great danger fromfalls, she succeeded in gaining the small piece of table-land on thesummit.
No hut nor any vestige of human being could she trace. The idea of hersolitude struck on the terrified mind of the affrighted girl, andapproaching to the edge of a shelving rock she bent forward to gaze onthe signs of life in the vale; when a ray of keen light dazzled hereyes, and a warm ray diffused itself over her whole frame. Recoveringfrom her surprise, Frances looked on the ledge beneath her, and atonce perceived that she stood directly over the object of her search.A hole through its roof afforded a passage to the smoke which, as itblew aside, showed her a clear and cheerful fire crackling andsnapping on a rude hearth of stone. The approach to the front of thehut was by a winding path around the point of the rock on which shestood, and by this she advanced to its door.
Three sides of this singular edifice were composed of logs laidalternately on each other, to a little more than the height of a man,and the fourth was formed by the rock against which it leaned. Theroof was made of the bark of trees, laid in long strips from the rockto its eaves; the fissures[122] between the logs had been stuffed withclay, which in many places had fallen out, and dried leaves were madeuse of as a substitute to keep out the wind. A single window of fourpanes of glass was in front, but a board carefully closed it in such amanner as to emit no light from the fire within. After pausing sometime to view this singularly constructed hiding-place, for suchFrances knew it to be, she applied her eye to a crevice to examine theinside.
[Footnote 122: clefts or openings.]
There was no lamp or candle, but the blazing fire of dry wood made theinterior of the hut light enough to read by. In one corner lay a bedof straw with a pair of blankets thrown carelessly over it, as if leftwhere they had last been used.
In an angle against the rock and opposite to the fire which wasburning in the other corner, was an open cupboard, that held a plateor two, a mug, and the remains of some broken meat.
Before the fire was a table, with one of its legs fractured, andmade of rough boards; these, with a single stool, composed thefurniture--if we except a few articles of cooking. A book that, byits size and shape, appeared to be a Bible, was lying on the tableunopened. But it was the occupant of the hut in whom Frances waschiefly interested. This was a man, sitting on the stool, with hishead leaning on his hand in such a manner as to conceal his features,and deeply occupied in examining some open papers. On the table laya pair of curiously and richly mounted horseman's pistols, and thehandle of a sheathed rapier,[123] of exquisite workmanship, protrudedfrom between the legs of the gentleman, one of whose hands carelesslyrested on its guard. The tall stature of this unexpected tenant of thehut, and his form, much more athletic than that of either Harvey orher brother, told Frances, without the aid of his dress, that it wasneither of those she sought. A close surtout[124] was buttoned high inthe throat of the stranger, and parting at the knees showed breechesof buff, with military boots and spurs. His hair was dressed so asto expose the whole face, and, after the fashion of that day, it wasprofusely powdered. A round hat was laid on the stones that formed apaved floor to the hut, as if to make room for a large map which,among other papers, occupied the table.
[Footnote 123: sword.]
[Footnote 124: overcoat.]
This was an unexpected event to our adventurer. She had been soconfident that the figure twice seen was the peddler, that, onlearning his agency in her brother's escape, she did not in the leastdoubt of finding them both in the place, which, she now discovered,was occupied by another and a stranger. She stood, earnestly lookingthrough the crevice, hesitating whether to retire, or to wait with theexpectation of yet meeting Henry, as the stranger moved his hand frombefore his eyes and raised his face, apparently in deep musing, whenFrances instantly recognized the benevolent and strongly marked, butcomposed features of Harper.
All that Dunwoodie had said of his power and disposition, all that hehimself had promised her brother, and all the confidence that had beencreated by his dignified and paternal manner, rushed across the mindof Frances, who threw open the door of the hut, and falling at hisfeet, clasping his knees with her arms, as she cried: "Save him, savehim--save my brother; remember your promise, and save him!"
Harper had risen as the door opened, and there was a slight movementof his hand towards his pistols; but it was cool, and instantlychecked. He raised the hood of the cardinal, which had fallen over herfeatures, and exclaimed with some uneasiness:
"Miss Wharton! But you cannot be alone?"
"There is none here but my God and you; and by his sacred name, Iconjure you to remember your promise, and save my brother!"
Harper gently raised her from her knees and placed her on the stool,begging her at the same time to be composed, and to acquaint him withthe nature of her errand. This Frances instantly did, and after ashort pause added:
"We can depend much on the friendship of Major Dunwoodie;but his sense of honor is so pure, that--that--notwithstandinghis--his--feelings--his desire to serve us--he will conceive it tobe his duty to apprehend[125] my brother again. Besides, he thinksthere will be no danger in so doing, as he relies greatly on yourinterference."
[Footnote 125: arrest.
]
"On mine?" said Harper, who appeared slightly uneasy.
"Yes, on yours. When we told him of your kind language, he at onceassured us all that you had the power, and, if you had promised, wouldhave the inclination, to procure Henry's pardon."
"Said he more?" asked Harper.
"Nothing but reiterate assurances of Henry's safety; even now he is inquest of you."
"Miss Wharton, that I bear no mean part in the unhappy strugglebetween England and America, it might now be useless to deny. You oweyour brother's escape, this night, to my knowledge of his innocence,and the remembrance of my word. Major Dunwoodie is mistaken when hesays that I might openly have procured his pardon. I now, indeed, cancontrol his fate, and I pledge to you a word which has some influencewith Washington, that means shall be taken to prevent his recapture.But from you, also, I exact a promise, that this interview, and allthat has passed between us, remain confined to your own bosom, untilyou have my permission to speak upon the subject."
Frances gave the desired assurance, and he continued:
"The peddler and your brother will soon be here, but I must not beseen by the royal officer, or the life of Birch might be theforfeiture."[126]
[Footnote 126: penalty.]
"Never!" cried Frances, ardently; "Henry never could be so base as tobetray the man who saved him."
"It is no childish game we are now playing, Miss Wharton. Men's livesand fortunes hang upon slender threads, and nothing must be left toaccident that can be guarded against."
While Harper was speaking he carefully rolled up the map he had beenstudying, and placed it, together with sundry papers that were open,in his pocket. He was still occupied in this manner, when the voice ofthe peddler, talking in unusually loud tones, was heard directly overtheir heads.
"Stand farther this way, Captain Wharton, and you can see the tents inthe moonshine. But let them mount and ride; I have a nest here thatwill hold us both, and we will go in at our leisure."
"And where is this nest? I confess that I have eaten but little thelast two days, and I crave some of the cheer you mention."
"Hem!" said the peddler, exerting his voice still more, "hem!--thisfog has given me a cold; but move slow, and be careful not to slip, oryou may land on the bayonet of the sentinel on the flats; 'tis a steephill to rise, but one can go down it with ease."
Harper pressed his finger on his lip, to remind Frances of herpromise, and taking his pistols and hat, so that no vestige of hisvisit remained, he retired deliberately to the far corner of the hut,where, lifting several articles of clothing, he entered a recess inthe rock, and letting them fall again was hid from view. Francesnoticed, by the strong firelight, as he entered, that it was a naturalcavity, and contained nothing but a few more articles of domestic use.
The surprise of Henry and the peddler, on entering and finding Francesin possession of the hut, may be easily imagined. Without waiting forexplanations or questions, the warm-hearted girl flew into the arms ofher brother, and gave vent to her emotions in tears. But the peddlerseemed struck with different feelings. His first look was at the fire,which had been recently supplied with fuel; he then drew open a smalldrawer of the table, and looked a little alarmed at finding it empty.
"Are you alone, Miss Fanny?" he asked in a quick voice; "you did notcome here alone?"
"As you see me, Mr. Birch," said Frances, raising herself from herbrother's arms, and turning an expressive glance towards the secretcavern, that the quick eye of the peddler instantly understood.
"But why and wherefore are you here?" exclaimed her astonishedbrother; "and how knew you of this place at all?"
Frances entered at once into a brief detail of what had occurred atthe house since their departure, and the motives which induced her toseek them.
"But," said Birch, "why follow us here, when we were left on theopposite hill?"
Frances related the glimpse she had caught of the hut and the peddler,in her passage through the Highlands, and her immediate conjecturethat the fugitives would seek shelter of this habitation for thenight.
The peddler seemed satisfied; for he drew back, and watching hisopportunity, unseen by Henry, slipped behind the screen, and enteredthe cavern.
Frances and her brother, who thought his companion had passed throughthe door, continued conversing on the latter's situation for severalminutes, when the former urged the necessity of expedition on hispart, in order to precede Dunwoodie, from whose sense of duty theyknew they had no escape. The captain took out his pocket-book, andwrote a few lines with his pencil; then folding the paper, he handedit to his sister.
"Frances," he said, "you have this night proved yourself to be anincomparable woman. As you love me, give that unopened letter toDunwoodie, and remember that two hours may save my life."
"I will--I will; but why delay? Why not fly, and improve theseprecious moments?"
"Your sister says well, Captain Wharton," exclaimed Harvey, who hadreentered unseen; "we must go at once. Here is food to eat as wetravel."
"But who is to see this fair creature in safety?" cried the captain."I can never desert my sister in such a place as this."
"Leave me! leave me!" said Frances; "I can descend as I came up. Donot doubt me; you know not my courage nor my strength."
"Captain Wharton," said Birch, throwing open the door, "you can triflewith your own lives, if you have many to spare; I have but one, andmust nurse it. Do I go alone, or not?"
"Go, go, dear Henry!" said Frances, embracing him; "go! Remember ourfather; remember Sarah." She waited not for his answer, but gentlyforced him through the door, and closed it with her own hands.
For a short time there was a warm debate between Henry and thepeddler; but the latter finally prevailed, and the breathless girlheard the successive plunges as they went down the side of themountain at a rapid rate.
Immediately after the noise of their departure had ceased, Harperreappeared. He took the arm of Frances in silence, and led her fromthe hut and down the mountain.
Wondering who this unknown but powerful friend of her brother couldbe, Frances glided across the fields, and using due precautions inapproaching the dwelling, regained her residence undiscovered and insafety.