Page 16 of The Tory Maid


  CHAPTER XVI

  THE BALL OF MY LORD HOWE

  Many a night after that last parting I stood guard on that drearyoutpost, gazing out across the snow at the dim lights of the city farto the eastward. Aye, for the city was gay that winter, gay withparties and dances, balls and dinners, and the bells rang as merrilyas if we were not starving and dying out on the bleak, hillsides. Aye,those old burghers were warm and comfortable as they sat by theirfires, with a glass of their wine or toddy at their side.

  True, my Lord Howe ruled the city with an iron hand, but he was agallant gentleman, and his officers made good partners for their fairdaughters at the balls. They were handsome in their scarlet uniforms,with their epaulets and their sabres, making, indeed, a very gallantshow, while those ragged patriots out upon the snow had not shoes totheir feet, and were altogether too disreputable to be admitted evento the kitchens of their houses. Then, again, runs not the Quaker law,"Thou shalt not fight"? And so the good old burghers threw another logon the fire and sat down to enjoy the cheerful blaze.

  The news came to us, sifted through the lines; we heard of theirdances and their balls, and everywhere we heard that Mistress JeanGordon was the belle of them all. The old Tory held high rank in thecounsels of Lord Howe, and the daughter, by her grace and beauty,reigned it over the hearts of every gallant gentleman of his army.

  We heard of her refusing my Lord Paulet and several other gentlemen,noted among us for their hard fighting, whenever by chance we wereopposed to them. And I, standing guard on the outpost, chafed in vainwhen I heard these tales, until one day chance decided me to risk all,to see her once more with my own eyes, and perhaps speak to her.

  There had been a skirmish on the outposts that day, and our men hadcaptured an English officer, a Captain of the line. He was a talkativeman, and while he was waiting to be sent to the rear as a prisoner weentertained him at our mess table, and he in turn told us the news ofthe town.

  "That must be a wonderful country, what do you call it, that easternshore of yours?" said he, "if it contains any more beauties likeMistress Jean Gordon."

  "Ah, the Tory's daughter?"

  "Yes. She is the reigning belle of the whole town, and all our fellowsare wild about her. I never saw so many fellows in love with one girlbefore, but Farquharson seems to have the best of it, while LordPaulet stamps and swears."

  Now, we were loyal Marylanders--loyal, at least, to her wit andbeauty, so then and there we proposed and drank the health of the Torymaid, while Dick chimed in with the amendment, "May she never marry aBritisher, but a patriot tried and true," at which our English Captaingood-naturedly protested; and while they drank the toast I made a vowthat ere a week was past I would be within that city.

  Fortune came my way, for as I left the mess-room that night I ranagainst Tom Jones of Cresap's old company of riflemen from themountains of the West, the most daring and desperate spy in all ourarmy. He was a man of powerful strength, as lithe and active as apanther, while his face was as immovable as that of an Indian, withnever a sign thereon of the thoughts and passions of the man within.He was clad for the moment in the dress of the riflemen, a full suitof buckskin, leggings, hunting-shirt, and all, while carelessly thrownacross one arm was his rifle, and in his belt was sheathed the longhunting-knife.

  "Lieutenant," said he, "I expect to return through your linesto-morrow night, so do not fire before you challenge."

  "Come this way, Jones," said I, leading him aside from the others. "Ido not know which way you are going, but I want you to help me throughthe lines into the city. Can you do so?"

  "But, Lieutenant, they will be wanting to hang you if you are caught."

  "I will take that risk. I must be in the city within a week."

  Jones, like most great frontiersmen, was a man of quick decision andfew words.

  "Meet me in an hour," said he, "at the Yellow Tavern."

  An hour later found me at the tavern in full uniform, for it was theonly suit I possessed in which it would be possible to present myselfbefore a lady, so dilapidated, torn, and ragged was my wardrobe. But Ihad a great storm-coat which hid the uniform and was an admirabledisguise.

  The tavern was crowded. As I stood by the fire I did not at oncenotice a quiet, unassuming traveller who had just entered, until hebrushed past my arm and whispered, "Follow me." I did so a few minuteslater, for it was Tom Jones, who looked for all the world as if he wasa quiet city merchant, born and bred within its limits. Yet you hadbut to notice his walk, and you saw at once that he was amountaineer, for he threaded his way through the crowd as noiselesslyas he did among his native forests, where the crack of a dead twigmight mean his death by a hostile bullet.

  I followed him out into the night, and a dark and dismal night it was;the snow was falling heavily and you could not see three rods away.

  "We will follow the pike," said he, "until we see their camp-fire.They will not keep strict watch to-night, and we will have to keep intouch with the landmarks."

  We trudged along through the snow past the outpost where I hadcommanded so many nights, keeping the vigils by the weary hours; thenwe became more careful, as the Highland outpost was but a few yardsaway.

  "They will have their backs to the storm," said the spy, "and thoughit is dangerous to go to the windward of a foe, yet he is not so aptto hear us as he would be to see us if we tried the leeward side.Those Highlanders have keen eyes."

  So we flanked the outpost to the windward and passed them safely, andthen Jones led me by many little bypaths and lanes until we came tothe outskirts of the town. And though the guard at one time could havetouched us as they passed, so dense was the storm that never for amoment was our safety jeoparded.

  At last the houses became closer and we found ourselves in the town,while every now and then a belated traveller met us, glanced our wayand passed on, for by now it was far into the night. But when wereached the heart of the town, even at that hour, the streets becamefilled with carriages, and we met many officers and gentlemen,returning from a ball. My Lord Howe entertained that night, and itwas a sign of loyalty and good faith for every one to attend.

  Though I became interested in seeing the muffled figures pass us, andthe carriages hurrying through the street, I grew uneasy as I saw thatJones was making his way to the centre of the town, to the very doorof Lord Howe's mansion. At last I remonstrated with him, but Jonesgrowled in answer: "How can you throw the dogs off your track, if thesnow does not fill it, but by mixing it with other tracks?"

  This was unanswerable. I followed him along the street until we wereamong the crowd before Lord Howe's door.

  It was a gay and brilliant scene, that ball of my Lord Howe, andthough it was near the end, the music of the dance still floatedthrough the wide entrance, while the figures of the dancers flittedacross the windows, which were ablaze with lights. The guests werefast leaving; fair ladies and officers bravely uniformed were comingdown the steps. There was a calling of carriages and of names, theslamming of doors and the muffled roll of the wheels as they droveoff. I was about to move on with Jones, when I heard the major-domo, asergeant of the guard, call out the carriage of Colonel CharlesGordon, and then I would have drawn back, as I had been forced intothe front rank; for, though I knew that she must be at the ball, I hadnot thought to be brought so suddenly face to face with her. But ere Icould do so, she came down the carpeted stairs leaning on her father'sarm, graceful and beautiful, while by her side walked Farquharson infull Highland costume, eager and attentive. A smile was upon her lipsas she listened, and then her eyes met mine. Her face went pale, andshe was near fainting. Her father caught her as she slightly reeled,and Farquharson looked fiercely around to see what the cause was. ButI was muffled up, and before he could demand the cause Mistress Jeanwas eagerly declaring that it was a mere nothing; and, as if to provewhat she said was true, she hurried on to the carriage.

  Farquharson leaned for a moment into the carriage to bid themgood-night, and then it rolled off into the darkness.
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Herbert Baird Stimpson's Novels