CHAPTER XXXI
Hence, bashful cunning! And prompt me, plain and holy innocence; I am your wife, if you will marry me.
--_Tempest_.
On joining Miss Peyton, Frances learned that Dunwoodie was not yetreturned; although, with a view to relieve Henry from the importunitiesof the supposed fanatic, he had desired a very respectable divine oftheir own church to ride up from the river and offer his services. Thisgentleman was already arrived, and had been passing the half hour he hadbeen there, in a sensible and well-bred conversation with the spinster,that in no degree touched upon their domestic affairs.
To the eager inquiries of Miss Peyton, relative to her success in herromantic excursion, Frances could say no more than that she was bound tobe silent, and to recommend the same precaution to the good maiden also.There was a smile playing around the beautiful mouth of Frances, whileshe uttered this injunction, which satisfied her aunt that all was as itshould be. She was urging her niece to take some refreshment after herfatiguing expedition, when the noise of a horseman riding to the door,announced the return of the major. He had been found by the courier whowas dispatched by Mason, impatiently waiting the return of Harper to theferry, and immediately flew to the place where his friend had beenconfined, tormented by a thousand conflicting fears. The heart ofFrances bounded as she listened to his approaching footsteps. It wantedyet an hour to the termination of the shortest period that the peddlerhad fixed as the time necessary to effect his escape. Even Harper,powerful and well-disposed as he acknowledged himself to be, had laidgreat stress upon the importance of detaining the Virginians during thathour. She, however, had not time to rally her thoughts, before Dunwoodieentered one door, as Miss Peyton, with the readiness of female instinct,retired through another.
The countenance of Peyton was flushed, and an air of vexation anddisappointment pervaded his manner.
"'Twas imprudent, Frances; nay, it was unkind," he cried, throwinghimself in a chair, "to fly at the very moment that I had assured him ofsafety! I can almost persuade myself that you delight in creating pointsof difference in our feelings and duties."
"In our duties there may very possibly be a difference," returned hismistress, approaching, and leaning her slender form against the wall;"but not in our feelings, Peyton. You must certainly rejoice in theescape of Henry!"
"There was no danger impending. He had the promise of Harper; and it isa word never to be doubted. O Frances! Frances! had you known the man,you would never have distrusted his assurance; nor would you have againreduced me to this distressing alternative."
"What alternative?" asked Frances, pitying his emotions deeply, buteagerly seizing upon every circumstance to prolong the interview.
"What alternative! Am I not compelled to spend this night in the saddleto recapture your brother, when I had thought to lay my head on itspillow, with the happy consciousness of having contributed to hisrelease? You make me seem your enemy; I, who would cheerfully shed thelast drop of blood in your service. I repeat, Frances, it was rash; itwas unkind; it was a sad, sad mistake."
She bent towards him and timidly took one of his hands, while with theother she gently removed the curls from his burning brow.
"Why go at all, dear Peyton?" she asked. "You have done much for yourcountry, and she cannot exact such a sacrifice as this at your hand."
"Frances! Miss Wharton!" exclaimed the youth, springing on his feet, andpacing the floor with a cheek that burned through its brown covering,and an eye that sparkled with wounded integrity. "It is not my country,but my honor, that requires the sacrifice. Has he not fled from a guardof my own corps? But for this, I might have been spared the blow! But ifthe eyes of the Virginians are blinded to deception and artifice, theirhorses are swift of foot, and their sabers keen. We shall see, beforeto-morrow's sun, who will presume to hint that the beauty of the sisterfurnished a mask to conceal the brother! Yes, yes, I should like, evennow," he continued, laughing bitterly, "to hear the villain who woulddare to surmise that such treachery existed!"
"Peyton, dear Peyton," said Frances, recoiling from his angry eye, "youcurdle my blood--would you kill my brother?"
"Would I not die for him!" exclaimed Dunwoodie, as he turned to her moremildly. "You know I would; but I am distracted with the cruel surmise towhich this step of Henry's subjects me. What will Washington think ofme, should he learn that I ever became your husband?"
"If that alone impels you to act so harshly towards my brother,"returned Frances, with a slight tremor in her voice, "let it neverhappen for him to learn."
"And this is consolation, Frances!"
"Nay, dear Dunwoodie, I meant nothing harsh or unkind; but are you notmaking us both of more consequence with Washington than the truthwill justify?"
"I trust that my name is not entirely unknown to the commander inchief," said the major, a little proudly; "nor are you as obscure asyour modesty would make you. I believe you, Frances, when you say thatyou pity me, and it must be my task to continue worthy of such feelings.But I waste the precious moments; we must go through the hills to-night,that we may be refreshed in time for the duty of to-morrow. Mason isalready waiting my orders to mount. Frances, I leave you with a heavyheart; pity me, but feel no concern for your brother; he must againbecome a prisoner, but every hair of his head is sacred."
"Stop! Dunwoodie, I conjure you," cried Frances, gasping for breath, asshe noticed that the hand of the clock still wanted many minutes to thedesired hour. "Before you go on your errand of fastidious duty, readthis note that Henry has left for you, and which, doubtless, he thoughthe was writing to the friend of his youth."
"Frances, I excuse your feelings; but the time will come when you willdo me justice."
"That time is now," she answered, extending her hand, unable any longerto feign a displeasure that she did not feel.
"Where got you this note?" exclaimed the youth, glancing his eyes overits contents. "Poor Henry, you are indeed my friend! If anyone wishes mehappiness, it is you!"
"He does, he does," cried Frances, eagerly; "he wishes you everyhappiness; believe what he tells you; every word is true."
"I do believe him, lovely girl, and he refers me to you for itsconfirmation. Would that I could trust equally to your affections!"
"You may, Peyton," said Frances, looking up with innocent confidencetowards her lover.
"Then read for yourself, and verify your words," interrupted Dunwoodie,holding the note towards her.
Frances received it in astonishment, and read the following:
_"Life is too precious to be trusted to uncertainties. I leave you,Peyton, unknown to all but Caesar, and I recommend him to your mercy.But there is a care that weighs me to the earth. Look at my aged andinfirm parent. He will be reproached for the supposed crime of his son.Look at those helpless sisters that I leave behind me without aprotector. Prove to me that you love us all. Let the clergyman whom youwill bring with you, unite you this night to Frances, and become atonce, brother, son, and husband."_
The paper fell from the hands of Frances, and she endeavored to raiseher eyes to the face of Dunwoodie, but they sank abashed to the floor.
"Am I worthy of this confidence? Will you send me out this night, tomeet my own brother? or will it be the officer of Congress in quest ofthe officer of Britain?"
"And would you do less of your duty because I am your wife, MajorDunwoodie? In what degree would it better the condition of Henry?"
"Henry, I repeat, is safe. The word of Harper is his guarantee; but Iwill show the world a bridegroom," continued the youth, perhapsdeceiving himself a little, "who is equal to the duty of arresting thebrother of his bride."
"And will the world comprehend this refinement?" said Frances, with amusing air, that lighted a thousand hopes in the bosom of her lover. Infact, the temptation was mighty. Indeed, there seemed no other way todetain Dunwoodie until the fatal hour had elapsed. The words of Harperhimself, who had so lately told her that open
ly he could do but littlefor Henry, and that everything depended upon gaining time, were deeplyengraved upon her memory. Perhaps there was also a fleeting thought ofthe possibility of an eternal separation from her lover, should heproceed and bring back her brother to punishment. It is difficult at alltimes to analyze human emotions, and they pass through the sensitiveheart of a woman with the rapidity and nearly with the vividness oflightning.
"Why do you hesitate, dear Frances?" cried Dunwoodie, who was studyingher varying countenance. "A few minutes might give me a husband's claimto protect you."
Frances grew giddy. She turned an anxious eye to the clock, and the handseemed to linger over its face, as if with intent to torture her.
"Speak, Frances," murmured Dunwoodie; "may I summon my good kinswoman?Determine, for time presses."
She endeavored to reply, but could only whisper something that wasinaudible, but which her lover, with the privilege of immemorial custom,construed into assent. He turned and flew to the door, when his mistressrecovered her voice:--
"Stop, Peyton! I cannot enter into such a solemn engagement with a fraudupon my conscience. I have seen Henry since his escape, and time isall-important to him. Here is my hand; if, with this knowledge of theconsequences of delay, you will not reject it, it is freely yours."
"Reject it!" cried the delighted youth. "I take it as the richest giftof heaven. There is time enough for us all. Two hours will take methrough the hills; and by noon to-morrow I will return with Washington'spardon for your brother, and Henry will help to enliven our nuptials."
"Then meet me here, in ten minutes," said Frances, greatly relieved byunburdening her mind, and filled with the hope of securing Henry'ssafety, "and I will return and take those vows which will bind me toyou forever."
Dunwoodie paused only to press her once to his bosom, and flew tocommunicate his wishes to the priest.
Miss Peyton received the avowal of her niece with infinite astonishment,and a little displeasure. It was violating all the order and decorum ofa wedding to get it up so hastily, and with so little ceremony. ButFrances, with modest firmness, declared that her resolution was taken;she had long possessed the consent of her friends, and their nuptials,for months, had only waited her pleasure. She had now promisedDunwoodie; and it was her wish to comply; more she dare not say withoutcommitting herself, by entering into explanations that might endangerBirch, or Harper, or both. Unused to contention, and really muchattached to her kinsman, the feeble objections of Miss Peyton gave wayto the firmness of her niece. Mr. Wharton was too completely a convertto the doctrine of passive obedience and nonresistance, to withstand anysolicitation from an officer of Dunwoodie's influence in the rebelarmies; and the maid returned to the apartment, accompanied by herfather and aunt, at the expiration of the time that she had fixed.Dunwoodie and the clergyman were already there. Frances, silently, andwithout the affectation of reserve, placed in his hand the wedding ringof her own mother, and after some little time spent in arranging Mr.Wharton and herself, Miss Peyton suffered the ceremony to proceed.
The clock stood directly before the eyes of Frances, and she turned manyan anxious glance at the dial; but the solemn language of the priestsoon caught her attention, and her mind became intent upon the vows shewas uttering. The ceremony was quickly over, and as the clergymanclosed the words of benediction, the clock told the hour of nine. Thiswas the time that Harper had deemed so important, and Frances felt as ifa mighty load was at once removed from her heart.
Dunwoodie folded her in his arms, saluted the mild aunt again and again,and shook Mr. Wharton and the divine repeatedly by the hands. In themidst of the felicitation, a tap was heard at the door. It was opened,and Mason appeared.
"We are in the saddle," said the lieutenant, "and, with your permission,I will lead on; as you are so well mounted, you can overtake us atyour leisure."
"Yes, yes, my good fellow; march," cried Dunwoodie, gladly seizing anexcuse to linger. "I will reach you at the first halt."
The subaltern retired to execute these orders; he was followed by Mr.Wharton and the divine.
"Now, Peyton," said Frances, "it is indeed a brother that you seek; I amsure I need not caution you in his behalf, should you unfortunatelyfind him."
"Say fortunately," cried the youth, "for I am determined he shall yetdance at my wedding. Would that I could win him to our cause. It is thecause of his country; and I could fight with more pleasure, Frances,with your brother by my side."
"Oh! mention it not! You awaken terrible reflections."
"I will not mention it," returned her husband; "but I must now leaveyou. But the sooner I go, Frances, the sooner I shall return."
The noise of a horseman was heard approaching the house, and Dunwoodiewas yet taking leave of his bride and her aunt, when an officer wasshown into the room by his own man.
The gentleman wore the dress of an aid-de-camp, and the major at onceknew him to be one of the military family of Washington.
"Major Dunwoodie," he said, after bowing to the ladies, "the commanderin chief has directed me to give you these orders."
He executed his mission, and, pleading duty, took his leave immediately.
"Here, indeed!" cried the major, "is an unexpected turn in the wholeaffair; but I understand it: Harper has got my letter, and already wefeel his influence."
"Have you news affecting Henry?" cried Frances, springing to his side.
"Listen, and you shall judge."
"SIR,--Upon the receipt of this, you will concentrate your squadron, soas to be in front of a covering party which the enemy has sent up infront of his foragers, by ten o'clock to-morrow, on the heights ofCroton, where you will find a body of foot to support you. The escape ofthe English spy has been reported to me, but his arrest is unimportant,compared with the duty I now assign you. You will, therefore, recallyour men, if any are in pursuit, and endeavor to defeat the enemyforthwith."
Your obedient servant,GEO. WASHINGTON.
"Thank God!" cried Dunwoodie, "my hands are washed of Henry's recapture;I can now move to my duty with honor."
"And with prudence, too, dear Peyton," said Frances, with a face as paleas death. "Remember, Dunwoodie, you leave behind you new claims onyour life."
The youth dwelt on her lovely but pallid features with rapture; and, ashe folded her to his heart, exclaimed,--
"For your sake, I will, lovely innocent!" Frances sobbed a moment on hisbosom, and he tore himself from her presence.
Miss Peyton retired with her niece, to whom she conceived it necessary,before they separated for the night, to give an admonitory lecture onthe subject of matrimonial duty. Her instruction was modestly received,if not properly digested. We regret that history has not handed down tous this precious dissertation; but the result of all our investigationhas been to learn that it partook largely of those peculiarities whichare said to tincture the rules prescribed to govern bachelors' children.We shall now leave the ladies of the Wharton family, and return toCaptain Wharton and Harvey Birch.