CHAPTER XIII
THE GREETING OF FAIR LIPS
After wandering through the streets of this old town during the earlyhours of the morning, seeing it gradually wake into life and take onthe quiet bustle of the day, I at last found myself before the inn,which had just been opened.
The host was an old friend, and we were soon fighting over the battlesagain, when a shadow fell across us and I sprang to my feet.
It was Capt. James Nicholson, one of the three brothers who foughttheir ships in sunshine and in storm, while there was a plank left forthem to stand upon, carrying dismay through the English fleets bytheir desperate courage and daring. He was a man about forty yearsold, over medium height, but slender and of fair complexion, withlight blue eyes and reddish hair, a typical descendant of that oldViking, Nicholson, who fought some famous fights under King Haco, andharried the coasts of Scotland until he gained a foothold there andfounded the Scottish family of the name. The same open, boldcountenance of the Admiral, the same frank and manly bearing, showedhim to be a sailor and a fighter.
"Hello, Frisby," said he, shaking my hand cordially. "With the dove sonear I knew that the hawk would not be far away."
I stammered out, as the landlord smiled, that I was forced to come toChestertown to avoid the man-of-war lying off Rock Hall.
"She is off Rock Hall, is she? Well, I shall have to chase her awaywith the Defence next week. But is that your only excuse for comingso far out of your way?"
And when I protested that it was, he laughed genially, and, turning tothe landlord, said: "He does not look like a knight-errant who fliesto the rescue of maids, and Tory maids at that, does he? But see here,youngster, since you have brought this little traitress into myhousehold, you will have to do your share in converting her to thetrue principles of liberty and democracy."
"Keep that for the men, Captain," cried the landlord. "Keep that forthe men; the women give us no peace, as it is, and if they once getthose notions there will be no living with them."
"Ah, you old reprobate, you had better not let your wife hear you."
With this we left the inn, and going through some quiet streets, we atlast came to Water Street, with its square brick houses, gardens andflowers, and green lawns leading to the river. Very substantial werethe buildings, quaint and old-fashioned. A number of white steps ledfrom the street to the porch of the Captain's house. When, at hismotion, I opened the door and stepped into the hall, which wassomewhat dark after the glare of the street, there came a flurry oflace, and soft arms were around my neck. And--well, what could a mando but return that kiss with interest? But the best things are butfleeting, for, when she glanced at my face, and saw who I was, shegave a little cry, broke from my arms, and vanished in confusion upthe stairway, followed by the merry laughter of the real uncle, notthe proxy.
"You surely cannot object to that welcome, Frisby; but I must tellMistress Jean to be more careful, or the army will lose a promisingofficer. They will not be able to keep you away from the town if thiskeeps on."
So saying, he led the way to the rear porch where it overlooked thelawn and the river.
Here we sat and talked until the breakfast-bell rang, and we went intothe dining-room. I was as hungry as a trooper by this time, after myall-night experience on the Chester.
The dining-room was a long room, with open windows looking out acrossthe river and the fields.
We had not as yet taken our seats, when through another door cameMistress Jean and Mistress Nancy Nicholson, her bosom friend andconfidante, with their arms around each other's waists--a charmingpicture.
The colour mantled high on Mistress Jean's cheek, and I am sure thatmine played the traitor also, but Mistress Nancy came to the rescue bydemanding news and particulars of her cavalier, for such she declaredMr. Richard Ringgold of Hunting Field to be.
Answering, I told her that I had left him covered with blood and withglory, but on the fair road to recovery. And so, though Mistress Jeanstill showed a heightened colour, in telling of Master Richard'sfortunes and escapes we broke the embarrassment of the meeting, andwere soon fast friends again. It was a merry breakfast. Afterward thetwo young ladies and I walked in the garden by the river's edge andtalked of many things,--of war and campaigning, for I claimed to be anauthority by now, and quite a veteran,--of love; but that was toodangerous, for Mistress Nancy would look at me slyly and laugh as sheasked if I was as great an authority upon the one as I was upon theother.
I retorted that I had heard many a lecture on the subject from MasterRichard, but otherwise knew nothing of the art, and then I begged herto take me as a pupil, so that in time I might become as great ascholar as Dick himself. But she roguishly recommended me to herAssistant Professor Mistress Jean Gordon, who, she told me, knew moreof the art than she did herself. And then, having come to some boxwoodalleys, she slipped away and left Mistress Jean and me alone.
"They tell me, Mistress Jean, that love is war; may I ask what thefate of the prisoners is?"
"As in real war," she replied, "those who surrender at discretionreceive but scant courtesy, but those who make a gallant resistanceare often victorious in their defeat."
"I see that you love the old Highland fashion, where the bridegroomcame with force and arms and bore the bride away."
"Better swords and daggers, and hearts that are true, than silks andsatins, Lowland fops and perfidy."
"English swords have crossed ere this with Highland steel, and Englishhearts are as tried and as true as those that beat beneath the plaid,"said I, coming to the defence of my English ancestry.
"So ho! Sir Rebel!" she cried in glee, "what means this defence of thehated redcoat? Do you not fear the shadow of the great committee thatyou preach treason so openly?" And she looked so bewitching in herlittle triumph that I had to thrust my hands into my pockets and turnaway, so great was the temptation.
"I will turn Highlander," said I, "if you do not stop."
"Stop?" she said with the most innocent air in the world.
"Aye," said I, "for if your Highlanders have ever been sturdy knaves,the Frisbys have ever been quick where bright eyes and ruby lips areconcerned, and there is no telling what might happen." And I looked sodetermined and fierce that she broke into merry laughter in my face.
"Your fate be upon you," said I solemnly; and--well, at that moment, Iheard Captain Nicholson calling that my horse was at the door, waitingfor me.
"That means that I must go, Mistress Jean," and the laughter died onher lips, "go to join my comrades in the North in their struggle forthe Great Cause. When you hear of battles and sieges and suddendeaths, will you sometimes think of the young rebel who rode with youfrom the Braes to Fairlee? For wherever he may be, whether in theglory of the rush and the sweep of the charge, or the gloomy anddismal retreat; whether in the camp on the bleak hillside, with thecold north wind blowing, or bivouacked in the Southern savannahswarmed by the rays of the sun; in the fatigue and the toil of themarches, amid the groans and cries of the dying, or the joy andtriumph of the hour when the fight has been fought and won, your smileshall always be with him, the light of your eye in his heart. Will youthink of him, or forget, Mistress Jean?"
"I will think of him." Her voice was very low and sweet. Then Istooped and kissed her hand, the fairest hand that man ever lookedupon.