CHAPTER XXI
THE PASSING OF YEARS
Then came a long period when it seemed almost as if peace had settledover the land, so seldom did the rattle of musket fire or the angryflash of guns break the quiet repose of the Jersey plains and farms.
Far across the marshes lay New York, and behind its walls and thebroad sweep of the waters the British army rested safe, while the armyof the patriots, scattered among the forests, woods, and hills ofJersey and New York, lived, like Robin Hood's followers of old, andwaited while the wheel of fortune turned.
A year went by, when at the taking of Paulus Hook I first heard newsof the welfare of the Tory and the maid, since the night of theMonmouth retreat.
It was after an all-night march through the marshes of Jersey, oftenbreast-high in the water, that we made a silent, deadly charge withthe bayonet on the enemy's fort, and carried it before the sun hadrisen.
We were retiring rapidly, after securing our prisoners, when one of mymen called to me: "Captain, here's one of those Highland chiefsknocked on the head."
I went to him and found that it was Farquharson, who had received anugly blow on the head from a clubbed musket.
A little whiskey between his teeth and water on his face revived him,and I was able, with the help of several men, to carry him along withour party.
We made good our retreat, and when several days later I was in themain camp of the army, I went to the quarters where the prisoners weredetained, and there I again met Farquharson.
"Captain," said he, smiling, for he had almost recovered from hiswound, "there is no entering a contest against you; fortune is alwayson your side."
"My turn will come," I answered; "but is there anything I can do foryou?"
"I am afraid not, unless you bribe the guards to let me escape."
"That would be clear against the articles of war," I replied. We fellto talking, and then it was I heard of the Tory and his daughter.
"It was about Christmas time," said Farquharson, "that the King sent amessage over the sea, granting him a pardon for the part he had takenin '45, for you know he was out then. The Sea Raven was about toclear in a week for Glasgow, and a sudden longing seemed to seize himto see once more the dash of the waters through the Braes of Mar andthe heather-crowned hills of old Aberdeen; and so, within a week, theyhad sailed away; and as he left he said to me: 'A revolt drove me fromold Scotland; another sends me back again. I wonder where fortune willend my days.' It is a strange fortune that has followed him throughlife."
"It is, indeed," I replied.
So they sailed away over the seas, gone back to their own land andpeople; and between that land and mine burned high the flame of war.But through the flame and across the broad stretch of the waters, Isaw the form of the maid beckoning me on, and though my hope waswell-nigh gone, I buckled tight my sword-belt and doggedly wenton,--went on, through the long march to the southward, the toil, thehunger, and the defeat of the Camden campaign.
The great triumph of Eutaw Springs and Cowpens, as we drove backCornwallis from the hill country to the shore, rolled back the tide ofinvasion and drowned it in the sea.
A year went by, bringing me adventures not a few, and with theadventures came wounds and honours; and when there came the news ofthe leaguer of Yorktown, it found me a full Colonel in the army of theSouth.
It was not my fortune to be present at that last great feat of ourarms, when the great General struck the blow that freed us for everfrom the tyranny of the King.
But when the news came down to us in the savannahs of the South wehailed it with joy, for we saw once more before us the quiet, smilingfields of Maryland, with the ease and comfort and plenty of it allthat awaited but our coming to repay us for the years of strife andblood.
And then at last came the order for us to take up the homeward march.The men took up the trail with as jaunty a step as when they firstmarched to the northward, long years before. The gay uniforms werefaded and gone; rags and tatters had taken their places, while of thebrave banner that was flung to the breeze at the Head of Elk nothingremained but the staff and a few ribbons that flaunted therefrom.
But every tatter told the tale of a fight where the shot and shell hadtorn it as it waved above the charging line, the deadly struggle ofthe hand to hand, or marked the slow and sullen retreat.
The men themselves were hardy and bronzed; from their ragged caps totheir soleless shoes they bore the stamp of veterans. They showed thesigns of their training in the angry school of war; wide indeed wasthe difference between the gay volunteers of '76 and the hardyveterans of '82. We swung along in our homeward march with a rightgoodwill, and at last came to the broad Potomac and saw the hills ofMaryland beyond.
Now the river itself to the low water-line of the southern bank iswithin the boundaries of Maryland. Wishing to be the first across theline, I rode my horse in to the saddle-girths, and let him drinkthereof.
A day later brought us to Annapolis, where we received the thanks ofthe State authorities, and with all due form and ceremony obtained ourdischarge and then dispersed to our homes.
That very day I took a canoe, and, crossing the bay, found myselfagain on the steps of Fairlee.
Once more my mother leaned on my arm, and, looking up at her tall,broad-shouldered son, with his epaulets of a Colonel, bronzed face,and hardy bearing, seemed proud and happy.
CHAPTER XXII
THE COMING OF THE MAID
Many months had passed away, spring had come again, and the fair cityof Annapolis lay in a mass of flowers. The vivid green of the oldtrees cast a delightful shade over all, tempting one to stroll throughthe quiet streets and byways, past the moss-grown walls, theold-fashioned gardens, buried in roses, and the stately, proudmansions of many of Maryland's best and bravest.
I was standing on a step and above me stood Mistresses Polly and BetsyJohnson, who were railing at me now that I no longer wore a uniformand was simply a plain member of the Legislature.
"He looked so fine in his brass buttons," said Mistress Polly.
"A brave, bold, quite proper-looking young fellow," added MistressBetsy.
"And now just look at him," continued Mistress Polly pathetically; andthey surveyed me sorrowfully, while malicious mischief played aroundthe corners of their eyes.
I laughed outright. I could not help it, so droll was the expressionon their faces.
"True, your ladyship," I said; "the toga does not fit a young man sowell as the buckled sabre and glittering epaulets. But now that dullpeace has come, the hall of the Legislature is the only place whereyou can throw the weight of your sword in the conflict and wield someinfluence in the great struggles of the country; would you have meidle?"
"Nay, I would not have that," said Mistress Polly judiciously. "Butyour round head and big hands are just the things for a fight, andthough your voice is--well--can be heard a considerable distance, I amafraid----" She paused, as if doubtful about its being put to any gooduse in the hall of the Assembly.
Decidedly I was getting the worst of it.
At this moment Dick Ringgold, who represented Kent with me, cameswinging up the street, and, seeing me standing on the steps, hailedme with--
"Hello, Frisby, have you heard the news?"
"What news?"
"Your old Tory friend Gordon is on the Sally Ann, from London, whichhas just come up the harbour."
"Any one with him?" I asked anxiously.
"Well," said Dick, maliciously drawling it out, "I heard some one saythere was a young lady with him."
I did not stop to protest against the laughter that followed me as Idashed down the street, or to Dick's shout as he called somethingafter me. A few minutes later I was on the wharf.
Out in the stream, swaying with the current of the tide, lay the SallyAnn, her tall spars tapering high in air, her decks full of bustle andactivity, showing the journey's end and that the final preparationsfor disembarkation were under full headway.
As I arrived a boat was pullin
g off from her side containing twopassengers. As I saw them my heart gave a great bound; my hand went tomy hat and swung it around my head. In answer to my signal came thefluttering of a handkerchief.
"Sir," said I, as the old Tory stepped ashore, "let me be the firstto welcome you back to old Maryland."
"Would that all my enemies were like you!" he replied. "I hesitatedlong about returning, but Jean would have it so."
And Mistress Jean said not a word as I took her hand in mine, but herface was mantled in scarlet and her eyes were downcast.
The prim old garden of the Nicholsons never looked more charming, theflowers more sweet and beautiful, or the green boxwood hedges moresuggestive of rest and repose; the lazy waters of the Chester rolledalong at its foot, gently lapping the grass. Ah! the sun was shiningon a glorious world that day, for Mistress Jean walked beside me.
"Mistress Jean," said I, as we stood where the waters met the grassand looked out over the broad and silent river, flowing on and on asif to eternity, "our lives have been more like mountain torrents thanthe broad smooth river here. We have lived through the battles andsieges, seen blood and death and all the horrors of a great war, butnow that peace has come, and our course lies through pleasant fieldsand verdant meadows, would it not be best for them to join and flow onas this great river does, Jean? Ah, Jean, you know how much I loveyou."
And then she placed her hand in mine; her eyes spoke that which I mostwished to know, and the very earth seemed glorious.
I know not how long we stood there, when there came Mistress NancyNicholson's voice through the garden, calling, "Jean, Jean, where areyou?"
"Here," she answered; and with that Mistress Nancy came running roundthe hedge.
"Oh, Jean," she cried, "Dick has proposed."
And then, seeing me, she stamped her little foot, and cried, "Oh,bother!" blushing meanwhile as red as one of her roses.
"And so have I, Mistress Nancy," I replied.
* * * * *
And now, my children, I end this tale, sitting here on the old porchat Fairlee. The pen drops from my hand, but my eyes are not too dim tosee the flash of the sunlight on the waters of the great bay throughthe break in the trees.
Nor are they too dim, Miss Jean, in spite of the impertinent toss ofyour head, to see in you the likeness of the maid that led me such awild dance in the days of my youth. And I promise you, if you do notsmile on young Dick Ringgold and stop your outrageous treatment ofhim, I will not leave you a cent in my will.
There, there; I retract every word that I said. Was there ever soaudacious a monkey in the world?
There, I have finished. Oh, yes, I forgot--
"John Cotton, bring me some more mint."
THE END.
Thank you for reading books on BookFrom.Net Share this book with friends