CHAPTER XIX
THE VISIT
Ruth's mother and aunt listened to her account of her afternoon'sadventure with interest, but when she had finished her mother said:
"I do not blame you, my dear, for accepting Betty's invitation, but I amsurprised that Mrs. Hastings should permit an enemy of America's rightsto become a friend, as it is evident she so regards the young Englishofficer who lodges there."
In her heart Ruth agreed with her mother. It seemed disloyal even tohave accepted Betty's invitation. Nevertheless Ruth was glad that shehad gone to Southwark; for the conversation she had overheard in regardto Lafayette seemed of great importance to the little girl. She did notspeak to any one of what she had heard the English officers say, but shecould not explain even to herself why she had not at once told Winnie,or why she did not now tell her mother. It seemed to Ruth that it was asecret which she could confide only to one person: to Lafayettehimself.
"May I go to Barren Hill to-morrow, Mother, dear?" she asked earnestly,as she bade her mother good-night.
"Why, Ruthie! Of course not! Your things are not ready, and we have notsent Aunt Deborah word to have Farmer Withely call for you," replied hermother in surprise. "Why are you so anxious to go to-morrow?"
"Oh, Mother! Never mind about my things. And I am sure Farmer Withelywill take me," urged Ruth.
"But do you think it will be quite fair to Aunt Clara?" said Mrs.Pennell gravely. "You know there are many things you can do to help heruntil I am on my feet again. Be patient, Ruthie. You shall go to BarrenHill as soon as it is possible."
Ruth was ready to cry with disappointment as she went up-stairs to bed.For a moment she had been tempted to tell her mother her reason forwanting to go at once to Barren Hill, but she realized that her mothermight say that a little girl could do nothing to protect a greatsoldier, and forbid her making any attempt to reach the young Frenchmanonly to repeat the careless talk of English soldiers.
"I must do it myself, in some way. I must!" thought Ruth as she preparedfor bed. She wondered if Aunt Clara would not help her in her plan to goto Barren Hill.
Ruth was late to breakfast the next morning, and Aunt Clara wondered alittle at her sober face, while Mrs. Pennell was troubled, thinking thatRuth was brooding over her disappointment in not going to Barren Hill.
The little girl performed her usual household duties; but when hermother suggested that she should go and play with Winifred, she shookher head.
In the afternoon she went into the yard with Hero and "Cecilia" to theseat under the maple tree. Aunt Clara noticed that the little girl satlooking across the garden as if her thoughts were far away, neglectingCecilia, and paying no attention to the faithful Hero.
"I am afraid Ruthie is going to be ill," she said to Mrs. Pennell. "Shehas not seemed like herself since she got home from her visityesterday."
Mrs. Pennell was quite sure that Ruth was not ill, but she was troubledthat her little daughter should be so disappointed and unwilling topostpone the visit to Aunt Deborah.
"Her heart is set on going to Barren Hill, and I have told her she mustwait a while," she explained.
"But why not let her go now?" suggested Aunt Clara. "She is a good andhelpful child, and deserves the pleasure. I can make her things ready."
It did not take much persuasion for Mrs. Pennell to give her consent,and when Ruth came slowly into the sitting-room, in response to AuntClara's call, her mother said:
"Well, my dear, your Aunt Clara says that you well deserve to start forBarren Hill as soon as she can make you ready. So be on the outlook forFarmer Withely to-morrow morning, and ask him to call for you onThursday, and to tell Aunt Deborah to expect you."
Ruth's face had brightened as her mother began to speak, but as Mrs.Pennell finished she was again almost ready to cry.
"'Thursday'!" she repeated. "That's two whole days to wait! Why can't Igo to-morrow?" she said anxiously.
Mrs. Pennell looked at Ruth in surprise. Never before had she known herlittle daughter to whine, or seem to want her own way more than anythingelse.
"What is the matter, Ruth? I thought you would be so glad that your AuntClara had persuaded me to let you go so soon. If you say anything aboutgoing before Thursday we shall give up the visit altogether," she said.
Ruth hardly knew what to say or do. It seemed to the little girl thather delay in starting for Barren Hill meant the possibility of thecapture of Lafayette. She was tempted to tell her mother the reason forwishing to start at once, but she was sure Mrs. Pennell would promptlyforbid her carrying out her plan to visit Valley Forge.
Ruth managed to thank her mother for permission to go on Thursday, andto say that she would be sure and see Farmer Withely and give him themessage the next morning, and then went back to her seat in the garden.She had just taken up Cecilia, when the garden gate was pushed open andWinifred came running up the path.
"Gilbert says he is ashamed of me!" declared Winifred, "and of you, andof Betty Hastings, for going to Southwark yesterday," and she looked atRuth a little fearfully, as if expecting her friend to be quite overcomeby Gilbert's disapproval.
"I don't care if he is," was Ruth's surprising reply. "I am glad I went,and I always shall be glad. And perhaps some day Gilbert will be gladtoo."
"Why, Ruth Pennell!" exclaimed Winifred.
"You tell him just what I say," insisted Ruth, beginning to feel morecheerful at the thought of Gilbert's surprise when he should discoverthat she had saved Lafayette from capture through her visit toSouthwark. After all, Thursday was only the day after to-morrow, shereflected, and the English were too much occupied in their welcome toSir Henry Clinton to start off to capture the young Frenchman. Besidesthat encouraging thought Winifred had brought over a box filled withbeads. They were wonderful beads--blue, all shades of blue, andsparkling red beads, and beads of shining green, and white beads asclear as dew-drops.
"You may pick out those you like best," said the generous Winnie,"enough to make you a necklace, and one for Cecilia, too," and the twolittle girls were soon happily occupied with the beads, and Ruth forgotall about her fears lest her warning should come too late. But whenWinifred jumped up saying that it was time for her to go home, Ruthremembered that she had not told Winnie that she was to go to BarrenHill on Thursday.
"Oh, Ruth! Then you won't see all the processions for Captain Harlow'sentertainment. And he said this morning when I went over to see Bettythat we could go down again, the very day before it is given," exclaimedWinifred.
"I wouldn't go if I were at home," declared Ruth, "but don't you tellGilbert that I said I wouldn't go. You tell him what I said first: 'thatI am glad I went, and I always shall be glad. And that perhaps some dayhe will be glad too that I went to Southwark.'"
Winifred promised to deliver the message. She did not suppose it had anyspecial meaning, but she was sure it would puzzle Gilbert.
The next day was a busy one for Ruth. Farmer Withely promised to callfor her on Thursday afternoon, and wondered to himself why the littlegirl was so eager to visit Barren Hill. Mrs. Pennell finished the whitelinen dress, while Ruth helped Aunt Clara in the work of the house,packed the small leathern trunk, which was to accompany her on herjourney, and last of all dressed Cecilia in her best, for she haddecided, at Aunt Clara's suggestion, that Cecilia needed a visit to thecountry.
Mrs. Pennell could now walk a little, and not until Thursday morning didRuth have a single doubt in regard to going away from home. But as thetime of her departure drew near she kept close beside her mother, andwhen Aunt Clara called that Farmer Withely was driving down the streetRuth was suddenly quite sure that she could not go and leave her motherbehind.
"Oh, Mother! I don't wish to go," she exclaimed, her arms close abouther mother's neck.
Mrs. Pennell held her close, telling her of the beautiful time she wouldhave with Aunt Deborah. "And, who knows! You may see Lafayette himself,"she added, knowing how great a hero the young Frenchman seemed to allAmerican children, as well as
to their elders.
"I shall come home soon," Ruth answered earnestly, and then Aunt Claracalled that Farmer Withely was waiting, and with one more good-bye kissRuth ran down the steps, and in a few moments was seated beside thefarmer, while the big horse trotted down the street.
Aunt Clara had put a box on the wagon seat beside Ruth. "Open it whenyou are half-way to your journey's end," she had said smilingly, andFarmer Withely had smiled also, and nodded approvingly, thinking tohimself that he had no better customers than the Pennell family, andbeing quite sure of the appetizing contents of the box.
As they drove out of the town, past the stone house, and on to the riverroad Ruth pointed out the field, where the May-pole was still standing,and told the farmer all the May-day sports and songs.
"Perhaps you could remember some of those songs, Miss Ruth? Now, if youcould, I should admire to hear them," said Farmer Withely.
THE BIG HORSE TROTTED DOWN THE STREET]
"Yes, indeed! I remember every one," said Ruth, and when she began Mrs.Hastings' song, Farmer Withely found that it was one he too used to singas a boy on far-off May-days, and so they sang it together, their voicesfalling pleasantly on the sweet spring air.
Then Ruth ventured to ask if Farmer Withely had ever seen GeneralWashington, or, perhaps, young Lafayette?
"Indeed I have. My best gray horse has now the honor of belonging toGeneral Washington, and many a cold journey have I taken to carry foodto the soldiers at Valley Forge," responded Farmer Withely, and he wenton to tell of the unfaltering courage of the American soldiers throughthe hardships at the camp.
He told of young Lafayette's recent return to Valley Forge from Albany,and of his devotion to the American cause. Ruth listened eagerly to allhe had to tell her, and the miles slipped away behind them, and whenFarmer Withely pointed toward the old church, which stood near thesummit of Barren Hill, and said that they had nearly reached theirjourney's end, Ruth declared that it had been a very pleasant journey,and Farmer Withely said he would like just such a passenger every day.
Aunt Deborah Farleigh was at the gate to welcome her little niece, andthen Ruth had to be taken and introduced to the bees, and to see twobrown calves in the barnyard, and a flock of fine chickens. After thatit was nearly dusk and supper was ready, and it was not until Ruth tookher seat at the table that she remembered her real errand to BarrenHill.
"Aunt Deborah, the English have not captured Lafayette, have they?" sheasked earnestly.
For once Aunt Deborah was startled from her usual calmness.
"For pity's sake, child! What dost thou mean?" she responded. "I haveheard naught of such a thing."
Ruth gave a sigh of relief. "I just wanted to be sure," she replied.