The Little Red Foot

  CHAPTER XVII

  DEEPER TROUBLE

  I had been welcomed like a brother by Polly Johnson. Claudia, too, madea little fete of my return, unscathed from my first war-trail. And afterI had completed my report to the Continental Major, who provedcomplacent to the verge of flattery, I was free to spend the day at theSummer House--or, rather, I was at liberty to remain as long a time asit took a well-mounted express to ride to Johnstown with my report andreturn with further orders from Colonel Dayton for me and my smallcommand.

  A Continental battalion still garrisoned the Point; their officers as Ihad been forced to notice in the orchard, were received decently by LadyJohnson.

  And, at that crisis in her career, I think I admired Polly Johnson asentirely as I ever had admired any woman I ever knew.

  For she was still only a child, and had been petted and spoiled alwaysby flattery and attentions: and she was not very well--her delicatecondition having now become touchingly apparent. She was allalone,--save for Claudia,--among the soldiery of a new and hostilenation; she was a fugitive from her own manor; and she must have beenconstantly a prey to the most poignant anxieties concerning her husband,whom she loved,--whatever were his fishy sentiments regarding her!--andwho, she knew, was now somewhere in the Northern and tracklesswilderness and fighting nature herself for his very life.

  Her handsome and beloved brother, also, was roaming the woods,somewhere, with Walter Butler and McDonald and a bloody horde ofIroquois in their paint,--and, worse still, a horde of painted whitemen, brutes in man's guise and Mohawk war-paint and feathers, whoalready were known by the terrifying name of Blue-eyed Indians.

  Yet this young girl, having resolved to face conditions with courage andcomposure, after her first bitter and natural outburst, never whimpered,never faltered.

  Enemy officers, if gentlemen, she received with quiet, dignifiedcivility, and no mention of politics or war was suffered to embarrassanybody at her table.

  All, I noticed, paid her a deference both protective and tender, which,in gentlemen, is instinctive when a woman is in so delicate a conditionand in straits so melancholy.

  Claudia, however, I soon perceived, had been nothing tamed, and evenless daunted by the errant arrows of adversity; for her bright eyes wereever on duty, and had plainly made a havoc of the Continental Major'sheart, to judge by his sheep's eyes and clumsy assiduities.

  For when he left the veranda and went away noisily in his big spurs, shewhispered me that he had already offered himself thrice, and that shemeant to make it a round half-dozen ere he received his final quietus.

  "A widower," quoth she, "and bald; and with seven hungry children inBoston! Oh, Lord. Am I come to that? Only that it passes time to playwith men, I'd not trouble to glance askance at your Yankee gentlemen,Jack Drogue."

  "Some among them have not yet glanced askance at you," remarked LadyJohnson, placid above her sewing.

  "Do you mean those suckling babes in the orchard yonder? Oh, la! Whenthe Major leaves, I shall choose the likeliest among 'em to amuse me.Not that I would cross Penelope," she added gaily, "or flout her. No.But these boys perplex her. They are too ardent, and she too kind."

  "What!" I exclaimed, feeling my face turn hot.

  "Why, it is true enough," remarked Lady Johnson. "Yonder child has noexperience, and is too tender at heart to resent a gallantry over-bold.Which is why I keep my eye upon these youngsters that they make not afool of a girl who is easily confused by flattery, and who remainssilent when dusk and the fleeting moment offer opportunities to impudentyoung men, which they seldom fail to embrace."

  "And seldom fail to embrace the lady, also," added Claudia, laughing."_You_ were different, Jack."

  "I saw that ensign, Dudley, kiss her behind the lilacs," added LadyJohnson, "and the girl seemed dumb, and never even upbraided the littlebeast. Had she complained to me I should have made him certainobservations, but could not while she herself remained mute. Because Ido not choose to have anybody think I go about eavesdropping."

  "Penelope Grant appears to find their company agreeable," said I, in avoice not like my own, but a dry and sullen voice such as I never beforeheard issue out o' my own mouth.

  "Penelope likes men," observed Lady Johnson, sewing steadily upon herbaby's garments of fine linen.

  "Penelope is not too averse to a stolen kiss, I fear," said Claudia,smiling. "Lord! Nor is any pretty woman, if only she admit the truth!No! However, there is a certain shock in a kiss which silences maideninexperience and sadly confuses the unaccustomed. Wait till the girlgains confidence to box some impertinent's ear!"

  I knew not why, yet never, I think, had any news sounded in my ears sodistastefully as the news I now had of this girl, I remembered Nick'scomment,--"Like flies around a sap-pan." And it added nothing to mypleasure or content of mind to turn and gaze upon that disquieting scenein the orchard yonder.

  For here, it seemed, was another Claudia in the making,--still unlearnedin woman's wiles; not yet equipped for those subtle coquetries andpolished cruelties which destroy, yet naturally and innocently anenchantress of men. And some day to be conscious of her power, andcertain to employ it!

  * * * * *

  Flora came, wearing a blue and orange bandanna, and the great gold hoopsin her ears glittering in the sun.

  Each day, now, it appeared, Lady Johnson retired for an hour's reposewhilst Claudia read to her; and that hour had arrived.

  "You dine with us, of course," said Lady Johnson, going, and looking atme earnestly. Then there was a sudden flash of tears; but none fell.

  "My dear, dear Jack," she murmured, as I laid my lips against both herhands.... And so she went into the house, Claudia lingering, havingshamelessly pressed my hand, and a devil laughing at me out of her twoeyes.

  "Is there news of Sir John to comfort us?" she whispered, making acaress of her voice as she knew so well how to do.

  "And if I have any, I may not tell you, Claudia," said I.

  "Oh, la! Aid and comfort to the enemy? Is it that, Jack? And if you butwink me news that Sir John is safe?"

  "I may not even wink," said I, smiling forlornly.

  "Aye? So! That's it, is it! A wink from you at me, and pouf!--acourtmartial! Bang! A squad of execution! Is that it, Jack?"

  "I should deserve it."

  "Lord! If men really got their deserts, procreation would cease, and theworld, depopulated, revert to the forest beasts. Well, then--so Sir Johnis got away?"

  "I did not say so."

  "You wear upon your honest countenance all the news you contain, dearJack," said she gaily. "It was always so; any woman may read you like aprinted page--if she trouble to do it.... And so! Sir John is safe atlast! Well, thank God for that.... You may kiss my cheek if you ask me."

  She drew too near me, but I had no mind for more trouble than nowpossessed me, so let her pretty hand lie lightly on my arm, and enduredthe melting danger of her gaze.

  She said, while the smile died on her lips, "I jest with you, Jack. Butyou _are_ dear to me."

  "Dear as any trophy," said I. "No woman ever willingly lets any victimentirely escape."

  "You do not guess what you could do with me--if you would," she said.

  "No. But I guess what you could do to me, again, if you had anopportunity."

  "Jack!" she sighed, looking up at me.

  But the gentle protest alarmed me. And she was too near me; and thefresh scent of her hair and skin were troubling me.

  And, more than that, there persisted a dull soreness in mybreast,--something that had hurt me unperceived--an unease which was notpain, yet, at times, seemed to start a faint, sick throbbing like awound.

  Perhaps I assumed that it came from some old memory of her unkindness; Ido not remember now, only that I seemed to have no mind to stir up dyingembers. And so, looked at her without any belief in my gaze.

  There was a silence, then a bright flush stained her face, and shelaughed, but as though unnerved, and drew her hand fro
m my arm.

  "If you think all the peril between us twain is yours alone, JackDrogue," she said, "you are a very dolt. And I think you _are_ one!"

  And turned her back and walked swiftly into the house.

  I took my rifle from where it stood against a veranda post, settled mywar-belt, with its sheathed knife and hatchet, readjusted powder-hornand bullet pouch, and, picking up my cap of silver mole-skin, went outinto the orchard.

  Behind me padded my Saguenay in his new paint, his hooped scalpsswinging from his cincture, and the old trade-rifle covered carefully byhis blanket, except the battered muzzle which stuck out.

  I walked leisurely; my heart was unsteady, my mind confused, myfeatures, unless perhaps expressionless, were very likely grim.

  I went straight to the group around the twisted apple-tree, wherePenelope sat knitting, and politely made myself a part of that samegroup, giving courteous notice by my attitude and presence, that I,also, had a right to be there as well as they.

  All were monstrous civil; some offered snuff; some a pipe and pouch; anda friendly captain man engaged me in conversation--gossip of Johnstownand the Valley--so that, without any awkwardness, the gay and generalchatter around the girl suffered but a moment's pause.

  The young officer who had writ verses, now read them aloud amid livelyapprobation and some sly jesting:

  IN PRAISE

  "Flavilla's hair, Beyond compare, Like sunshine brightens all the earth! Old Sol, beware! She cheats you, there, And robs your rays of all their worth!

  "Impotent blaze! I shall not praise Your brazen ways, Nor dare compare Your flaming gaze To those sweet rays Which play around Flavilla's hair.

  "For lo, behold! No sunshine bold Can hope to gild or make more fair The living gold, Where, fold on fold, In glory shines Flavilla's hair!"

  There was a merry tumult of praise for the poet, and some rallied him,but he seemed complacent enough, and Penelope looked shyly at him overlagging needles,--a smile her acknowledgment and thanks.

  "Sir," says a cornet of horse, in helmet and jack-boots--though Iperceived none of his company about, and wondered where he camefrom,--"will you consent to entertain our merry Council with someaccount of the scout which, from your appearance, sir, I guess you havebut recently accomplished."

  To this stilted and somewhat pompous speech I inclined my head withcivility, but replied that I did not yet feel at liberty to discuss anyjourney I may have accomplished until my commanding officer gave mepermission. Which mild rebuke turned young Jack-boots red, and raised atitter.

  An officer said: "The dry blood on your hunting shirt, sir, and thesomewhat amazing appearance of your tame Indian, who squats yonder,devouring the back of your head with his eyes, must plead excuse for ournatural curiosity. Also, we have not yet smelled powder, and it is plainthat you have had your nostrils full."

  I laughed, feeling no mirth, however, but sensible of my dull pain andmy restlessness.

  "Sir," said I, "if I have smelled gun-powder, I shall know that sameperfume again; and if I have not yet sniffed it, nevertheless I shallknow it when I come to scent it. So, gentlemen, I can not see that youare any worse off in experience than I."

  A subaltern, smiling, ventured to ask me what kind of Indian was thatwho enquired me.

  "Of Algonquin stock," said I, "but speaks an odd lingo, partlyHuron-Iroquois, partly the Loup tongue, I think. He is a Saguenay."

  "One of those fierce wanderers of the mountains," nodded an olderofficer. "I thought they were not to be tamed."

  "I owned a tame tree-cat once," remarked another officer.

  My friend, Jack-boots, now pulls out a bull's-eye watch with two fobs,and tells the time with a sort of sulky satisfaction. For many of thecompany arose, and made their several and gallant adieus to Penelope,who suffered their salute on one little hand, while she held yarn andneedles in t'other.

  But when half the plague of suitors and gallants had taken themselvesoff to their several duties, there remained still too many to suit youngJack-boots. Too many to suit me, either; and scarce knowing what I didor why, I moved forward to the tree where she was seated on a lowswinging limb.

  "Penelope," said I, "it is long since I have seen you. And if thesegentlemen will understand and pardon the desire of an old friend tospeak privately with you, and if you, also, are so inclined, give me alittle time with you alone before I leave."

  "Yes," she said, "I am so inclined--if it seem agreeable to all."

  I am sure it was not, but they conducted civilly enough, save youngJack-boots, who got redder than ever and spoke not a word with his bow,but clanked away pouting.

  And there were also two militia officers, wrapped in great watch cloaksover their Canajoharie regimentals, and who took their leave in silence.One wore boots, the other black spatter-dashes that came above the kneein French fashion, and were fastened under it, too, with leather straps.

  Their faces were averted when they passed me, yet something about themboth seemed vaguely familiar to me. No wonder, either, for I shouldknow, by sight at least, many officers in our Tryon militia.

  Whether they were careless, or unmannerly by reason of taking offense atwhat I had done, I could not guess.

  I looked after them, puzzled, almost sure I had seen them both before;but where I could not recollect, nor what their names might be.

  "Shall we stroll, Penelope?" I said.

  "If it please you, sir."

  Sir William had cut the alders all around the point, and a pretty lawnof English grass spread down to the water north and west, and pleasantshade trees grew there.

  While she rolled her knitting and placed it in her silken reticule, I,glancing around, noticed that all the apple bloom had fallen, and thetiny green fruit-buds dotted every twig.

  Then, as she was ready, and stood prettily awaiting me in her pinkchintz gown, and her kerchief and buckled shoon, I gave her my hand andwe walked slowly across the grass and down to the water.

  Here was a great silvery iron-wood tree a-growing and spreading pleasantshade; and here we sat us down.

  But now that I had got this maid Penelope away from the pest of suitors,it came suddenly to me that my pretenses were false, and I really hadnothing to say to her which might not be discussed in company withothers.

  This knowledge presently embarrassed me to the point of feeling my facegrow hot. But when I ventured to glance at her she smiled.

  "Have you been in battle?" she asked.

  "Yes."

  After a silence: "I am most happy that you returned in safety."

  "Did you ever--ever think of me?" I asked.

  "Why, yes," she replied in surprise.

  "I thought," said I, "that being occupied--and so greatly sought afterby so many gallants--that you might easily have forgotten me."

  She laughed and plucked a grass-blade.

  "I did not forget you," she said.

  "That is amazing," said I, "--a maid so run after and so courted."

  She plucked another blade of grass, and so sat, pulling at the tenderverdure, her head bent so that I could not see what her eyes werethinking, but her lips seemed graver.

  "Well," said I, "is there news of Mr. Fonda?"

  "None, sir."

  "Tell me," said I, smiling, "why, when I speak, do you answer ever witha 'sir'?"

  At that she looked up: "Are you not Lord Stormont, Mr. Drogue?" sheasked innocently.

  "Why, no! That is, nobody believes it any more than did the Lords intheir House so many years ago. Is that why you sometimes say 'my lord,'and sometimes call me 'sir'?"

  "But you still are the Laird of Northesk."

  "Lord!" said I, laughing. "Is it that Scottish title bothers you? Pay itno attention and call me John Drogue--or John.... Or Jack, if youwill.... Will you do so?"

  "If it--pleases you."

  She was still busy with the grass, and I watched her, waiting to see herdark eyes lift again--and see that litt
le tremor of her lips whichpresaged the dawning smile.

  It dawned, presently; and all the unrest left my breast--all that heavydullness which seemed like the flitting shadow of a pain.

  "Tell me," said I, "are you happy?"

  "I am contented. I love my Mistress Swift. I love and pity LadyJohnson.... Yes, I am happy."

  "I know they both love you," said I. "So you should be happy here....And admired as you are by all men...."

  Again she laughed in her enchanting little way, and bent her brighthead. And, presently:

  "John Drogue?"

  "I hear you, Penelope."

  "Do you wish warm woolen stockings for your men?"

  "Why--yes."

  "I sent to Caydutta Lodge for the garments. They are in the house. Youshall choose for yourself and your men before the Continentals taketheir share."

  I was touched, and thanked her. And now, it being near the noon hour, wewalked together to the house.

  The partition which Sir John had made for a gun-room, and which nowserved to enclose Penelope's chamber, was all hung with stout woolenstockings of her own knitting; and others lay on her trundle-bed. So Iadmired and handled and praised these sober fruits of her diligence andforesight, and we corded up some dozen pair for my white people; and Istuffed them into my soldier's leather sack.

  Then I took her hands and said my thanks; and she looked at me andanswered, "You are welcome, John Drogue."

  I do not know what possessed me to put my arm around her. She flusheddeeply. I kissed her; and it went to my head.

  The girl was dumb and scarlet, not resisting, nor defending her lips;but there came a clatter of china dishes, and I released her as Floraand Colas appeared from below, with dinner smoking, and clatteringplatters.

  And presently Lady Johnson's door opened, and she stepped out in hersilk levete, followed by Claudia.

  "I invited no one else," said Lady Johnson, "--if that suits you, Jack."

  I protested that it suited me, and that I desired to spend my few hoursfrom duty with them alone.

  As we were seated, I ventured a side glance at Penelope and perceivedthat she seemed nothing ruffled, though her colour was still high. Forshe gave me that faint, enchanting smile that now began to send a thrillthrough me, and she answered without confusion any remarks addressed toher.

  Remembering my Indian outside, I told Flora, and Colas took food to himon the veranda.

  And so we spent a very happy hour there--three old friends together oncemore, and a young girl stranger whom we loved already. And I did notknow in what degree I loved her, but that I did love her now seemedsomewhat clear to my confused senses and excited mind,--though to love,I knew, was one thing, and to be _in_ love was still another. Or so itseemed to me.

  My animation was presently noticed by Claudia; and she rested her eyeson me. For I talked much and laughed more, and challenged her gayconceits with a wit which seemed to me not wholly contemptible.

  "One might think you had been drinking of good news," quoth she; "sopray you share the draught, Jack, for we have none of our own to quenchour thirst."

  "Unless none be good news, as they say," said Lady Johnson, wistfully.

  "News!" said I. "Nenni! But the sun shines, Claudia, and life is young,and 'tis a pretty world we live in after all."

  "If you admire a marsh," says she, "there's a world o' mud and rushes toadmire out yonder."

  "Or if you admire a cabinful o' lonely ladies," added Lady Johnson, "youmay gaze your fill upon us."

  "I should never be done or have my fill of beauty if I sat here athousand years, Polly," said I.

  "A thousand years and a dead fish outshines our beauty," smiled LadyJohnson. "If you truly admire our beauty, Jack, best prove it now."

  "To which of us the Golden Apple?" inquired Claudia, offering one of thewinter russets which had been picked at the Point.

  "Ho!" said I, "you think to perplex and frighten me? _Non, pas!_ PollyJohnson shall not have it, because, if she ever makes me wise, wisdom isits own reward and needs no other. And you shall not have it, Claudia!"

  "Why not?"

  "Mere beauty cannot claim it."

  "Why not? Venus received the apple cast by Eris."

  "But only because Venus promised Love! Do you promise me the reward ofthe shepherd?"

  "Myself?" she asked impudently.

  "Venus," said Lady Johnson, "made that personal exception, and so mustyou, Claudia. The goddess promised beauty; but not herself."

  "Then," said I, "Claudia has nothing to offer me. And so I give theapple to Penelope!"

  She refused it, shyly.

  "Industry is the winner," said I. "Thrift triumphs. I already have hergift. I have a dozen pair of woolen stockings for my men, knitted bythis fair Penelope of today. And, as she awaits no wandering lord,though many suitors press her, then she should have at least this goldenapple of Eris to reward her. And so she shall."

  And I offered it again.

  "Take it, my dear," said Claudia, laughing, "for this young man hasgiven you a reason. Pallas offered military glory; you offer militarystockings! What chance have Hera and poor Aphrodite in such a contest?"

  We all were laughing while the cloth was cleared, and Flora brought us agreat dish of wild strawberries.

  These we sopped in our wine and tasted at our ease, there by the openwindows, where a soft wind blew the curtains and the far-spreading azurewaters sparkled in the sun.

  How far away seemed death!

  I looked out upon the mountains, now a pale cobalt tint, and their peaksall denting the sky like blue waves on Lake Erie against the horizon.

  Low over the Vlaie Water flapped a giant heron, which alighted not faraway and stood like a sentry, motionless at his post.

  A fresh, wild breath of blossoms grew upon the breeze--the enchantingscent of pinxters. From the mainland, high on a sugar-maple's spire,came the sweet calling of a meadow-lark.

  Truly, war seemed far away; and death farther still in this dearNorthland of ours. And I fell a-thinking there that if kings could onlysee this land on such a day, and smell the pinxters, and hear thesweetened whistle of our lark, there would be no war here, no slavery,no strife where liberty and freedom were the very essence of the landand sky.

  * * * * *

  My Lady Johnson wished to rest; and there was a romance out of Franceawaiting her in gilt binding in her chamber.

  She went, when the board was cleared, linking her arm in Claudia's.

  Penelope took up her knitting with a faint smile at me.

  "Will you tell me a story to amuse me, sir?" she said in her shy way.

  "You shall tell me one," said I.

  "I? What story?"

  "Some story you have lived."

  "I told you all."

  "No," said I, "not any story concerning this very pest of suitors whichplague you--or, if not you, then me!--as the suitors of the firstPenelope plagued Telemachus."

  Now she was laughing, and, at one moment, hid her face in her yarn,still laughing.

  "Does this plague you, John Drogue?" she asked, still all rosy in hermirth.

  "Well," said I, "they all seem popinjays to me in their blue and goldand buff. But it was once red-coats, too, at Caughnawaga, or so I hear."

  "Oh. Did you hear that?"

  "I did. They sat like flies around a sap-pan."

  "Deary me!" she exclaimed, all dimples, "who hath gossiped of me atCayadutta Lodge?"

  "Penelope?"

  "I am attentive, sir."

  "I suppose all maids enjoy admiration."

  "I suppose so."

  "Hum! And do you?"

  "La, sir! I am a maid, also."

  "And enjoy it?"

  "Yes, sir.... Do not you?"

  "What?"

  "Do not you enjoy admiration? Is admiration displeasing to young men?"

  "Well--no," I admitted. "Only it is well to be armed withexperience--hum-hum!--and discretion when one encounters the fla
ttery ofadmiration."

  "Yes, sir.... Are you so armed, Mr. Drogue?"

  At a loss to answer, her question being unexpected--as were many of herquestions--and answers also--I finally admitted that flattery was asubtle foe and that perhaps experience had not wholly armed me againstthat persuasive enemy.

  "Nor me," said she, with serene candour. "And I fear that I lack as muchin knowledge and experience as I do in years, Mr. Drogue. For I think noevil, nor perhaps even recognize it when I meet it, deeming the worldkind, and all folk unwilling to do me a wrong."

  "I--kissed you."

  "Was that a wrong you did me?"

  "Have not others kissed you?" said I, turning red and feeling mean.

  But she laughed outright, telling me that it concerned herself and notme what she chose to let her lips endure. And I saw she was a verychild, all unaccustomed, yet shyly charmed by flatteries, and alreadyvaguely aware that men found her attractive, and that she also was notdisinclined toward men, nor averse to their admiration.

  "How many write you verses?" I asked uneasily.

  "Gentlemen are prone to verses. Is it unbecoming of me to encourage themto verse?"

  "Why, no...."

  "Did you think the verses fine you heard in the orchard?"

  "Oh, yes," said I, carelessly, "but smacking strong of Major Andre'sverses to his several Sacharissas."

  "Oh. I thought them fine."

  "And all men think you fine, I fear--from that soldier who pricked yourname on his powder-horn at Mayfield fort to Bully Jock Gallopaway of theBorder Horse at Caughnawaga, and our own little Jack-boots in theorchard yonder."

  "Only Jack Drogue dissents," she murmured, bending over her knitting.

  At that I caught her white hand and kissed it; and she blushed and satsmiling in absent fashion at the water, while I retained it.

  "You use me sans facon," she murmured at last. "Do you use other womenso?"

  Now, I had used some few maids as wilfully, but none worse, yet had nomind to admit it, nor yet to lie.

  "You ask me questions," said I, "but answer none o' mine."

  At that her gay smile broke again. "What a very boy," quoth she, "to beLaird o' Northesk! For it is cat's-cradle talk between us two, and giveand take to no advancement. Will you tell me, my lord, if it gives youpleasure to touch my lips?"

  "Yes," said I. "Does it please you, too?"

  "I wonder," says she, and was laughing again out of half-shy eyes at me.

  But, ere I could speak again, comes an express a-galloping; and we sawhim dismount at the mainland gate and come swiftly across the orchard.

  "My orders," said I, and went to the edge of the veranda.

  The letter he handed me was from Colonel Dayton. It commended me,enjoined secrecy, approved my Oneidas and my Saguenay, but warned me toremain discreetly silent concerning these red auxiliaries, becauseGeneral Schuyler did not approve our employing savages.

  Further, he explained, several full companies of Rangers had now beenraised and were properly officered and distributed for employment.Therefore, though I was to retain my commission, he preferred that Icommand my present force as a scout, and not attempt to recruit a Rangercompany.

  "For," said he, "we have great need of such a scout under an officerwho, like yourself, has been Brent-Meester in these forests."

  However, the letter went on to say, I was ordered to remain on theSacandaga trail with my scout of ten until relieved, and in themeanwhile a waggon with pay, provisions, and suitable clothing for mymen, and additional presents for my Indians, was already on its way.

  I read the letter very carefully, then took my tinder-box and struckfire with flint and steel, blowing the moss to a glow. To this I touchedthe edge of my letter, and breathed on the coal till the paper flamed,crinkled, fell in black flakes, and was destroyed.

  For a few moments I stood there, considering, then dismissed theexpress; but still stood a-thinking.

  And it seemed to me that there was indecision in my commander's letter,where positive and virile authority should have breathed action fromevery line.

  I know, now, that Colonel Dayton proved to be a most excellent officerof Engineers, later in our great war for liberty. But I think now, andthought then, that he lacked that energy and genius which meets withvigour such a situation as was ours in Tryon County.... God knows towhat sublime heights Willett soared in the instant agony of black daysto come!... And comparisons are odious, they say.... So Colonel Daytonoccupied Johnstown, garrisoned Summer House Point and Fish House, andwas greatly embarrassed what to do with his prisoner, Lady Johnson.... Afine, brave, loyal officer--who made us very good forts.

  But, oh, for the dead of Tryon!--and the Valley in ashes from end toend; and the whole sky afire!--Lord! Lord!--what sights I have lived tosee, and seeing, lived to tell!

  * * * * *

  My memories outstrip my quill.

  * * * * *

  So, when I came out of my revery, I turned and walked back slowly toPenelope, who lifted her eyes in silence, clasping her fair hands overidle needles.

  "I go back tonight," said I.

  "To the forest?"

  "To the trail by the Drowned Lands."

  "Will you come soon again?"

  "Do you wish it?"

  "Why, yes, John Drogue," she said; and I saw the smile glimmer ere itdawned.

  And now comes my Lady Johnson and her Abagail for a dish of tea on theveranda, where a rustic table was soon spread by Colas, very fine in hisscarlet waistcoat and a new scratch-wig.

  Now, to tea, comes sauntering our precious plague of suitors, one byone, and two by two, from the camp on the mainland. And all around theysit them down--with ceremony, it's true, but their manners found nofavour with me either. And I thought of Ulysses, and of the bow thatnone save he could bend.

  Well, there was ceremony, as I say, and some subdued gaiety, not toomarked, in deference to Lady Johnson's political condition.

  There was tea, which our officers and I forbore to taste, making a civiljest of refusal. But there was an eggnog for us, and a cooled punch, anda syllabub and cakes.

  Toward sundown a young officer brought his fiddle from camp and playedprettily enough.

  Others sang in acceptable harmony a catch or two, and a romantic piecefor concerted voices, which I secretly thought silly, yet it pleasedLady Johnson.

  Then, at Claudia's request, Penelope sang a French song made in oldendays. And I thought it a little sad, but very sweet to hear there in thegathering dusk.

  Other officers came up in the growing darkness, paid their respects,tasted the punch. Candles glimmered in the Summer House. Shadowy formsarrived and departed or wandered over the grassy slope along the water.

  I missed Claudia. Later, I saw Penelope rise and give her hand to a manwho came stalking up in a watch cloak; and presently they strolled awayover the lawn, with her arm resting on his.

  Major Westfall and Lady Johnson were conversing gravely on the northporch. Others, dimly visible, chatted around me or moved with suddenclank of scabbard and spur.

  Penelope did not come back. At first I waited calmly enough, then withincreasing impatience.

  Where the devil had she gone with her Captain Spatter-dash? Claudia Ipresently discovered with men a-plenty around her; but Penelope was notvisible. This troubled me.

  So I went down to the orchard, carelessly sauntering, and not as thoughin search of anybody. And so encountered Penelope.

  She and her young man in the watch-cloak passed me, moving slowly underthe trees. He wore black spatter-dashes. And, as we saluted, it came tome that this was one of the officers from the Canajoharie Regiment; butin the starlight I knew him no better than I had by day.

  "Strange," thought I, "that young Spatter-dashes seems so familiar to myeyes, yet I can not think who he may be."

  Then, looking after him, I saw his comrade walking toward me from thewell, and with him was Colas, with a lantern, wh
ich shined dimly on boththeir faces.

  And, suddenly: "Why, sir!" I blurted out in astonishment, "are you notCaptain Hare?"

  "No, sir," said he, "my name is Sims, and I am captain in theCanajoharie militia." And he bowed civilly and walked on, Colasfollowing with the lantern, leaving me there perplexed and stillstanding with lifted cap in hand.

  I put it on, pondered for a space, striving to rack my memory, for thatman's features monstrously resembled Lieutenant Hare's, as I saw him atsupper that last night at Johnson Hall, when he came there with Hiokatooand Stevie Watts, and that Captain Moucher, whom I knew a little andtrusted less, for all his mealy flatteries.

  Well, then, I had been mistaken. It was merely a slight resemblance, ifit were even that. I had not thought of Hare since that evening, andwhen I saw this man by lantern light, as I had seen him by candles, why,I thought he seemed like Hare.... That was all.... That certainly wasall there could be to it.

  * * * * *

  Near to the lilacs, where candle light fell from the south window of thelittle lodge, I stumbled once again upon Penelope. And she was inSpatter-dash's arms!

  For a moment I stood frozen. Then a cold rage possessed me, and Godknows what a fool I had played, but suddenly a far whistle sounded fromthe orchard; and young Spatter-dash kisses her and starts a-runningthrough the trees.

  He had not noticed me, nor discovered my presence at all; but Penelope,in his arms, had espied me over his shoulder; and I thought she seemednot only flushed but frightened, whether by the fellow's rough ardour ormy sudden apparition I could not guess.

  Still cold with a rage for which there was no sensible warrant, I walkedslowly to where she was standing and fumbling with her lace apron, whichthe callow fool had torn.

  "I came to say good-bye," said I in even tones.

  She extended her hand; I laid grim and icy lips to it; released it.

  There was a silence. Then: "I did not wish him to kiss me," said she inan odd voice, yet steady enough.

  "Your lips are your own."

  "Yes.... They were yours, too, for an instant, Mr. Drogue."

  "And they were Spatter-dash's, too," said I, almost stifled by myjealous rage. "Whose else they may have been I know not, and do not askyou. Good night."

  She said nothing, and presently picked at her torn apron.

  "Good night," I repeated.

  "Good night, sir."

  And so I left her, choked by I knew not what new and fierceemotions--for I desired to seek out Spatter-dash, Jack-boots, and thewhole cursed crew of suitors, and presently break their assorted necks.For now I was aware that I hated these popinjays who came philanderinghere, as deeply as I hated to hear of the red-coat gallants atCaughnawaga.

  Still a-quiver with passion, I managed, nevertheless, to make mycompliments and adieux to Lady Johnson and to Claudia--felt their warmand generous clasp, answered gaily I know not what, saluted all, took alantern that Flora fetched, and went away across the grass.

  A shadow detached itself from darkness, and now my Saguenay was paddingat my heels once more.

  As we two came to the mainland, young Spatter-dash suddenly crossed theroad in front of my lantern. Good God! Was I in my right mind! Was itStephen Watts on whose white, boyish face my lantern glimmered for aninstant? How could it be, when it meant death to catch him here?...Besides, he was in Canada with Walter Butler. What possessed me, that inyoung Spatter-dash I saw resemblance to Stevie Watts, and in anotherrespectable militia officer a countenance resembling Lieutenant Hare's?

  Sure my mind was obsessed tonight by faces seen that last unhappyevening at the Hall; and so I seemed to see a likeness to those men inevery face I met.... Something had sure upset me.... Something, too, hadsuddenly awakened in me new and deep emotions, unsuspected, unfamiliar,and unwelcome.

  And for the first time in my life I knew that I hated men because awoman favoured them.

  We had passed through the Continental camp, my Indian and I, and werenow going down among the bushes to the Vlaie Water, where lay our canoe,when, of a sudden, a man leaped from the reeds and started to run.

  Instantly my Indian was on his shoulders like a tree-cat, and down wentboth on the soft mud, my Saguenay atop.

  I cocked my rifle and poked the muzzle into the prostrate stranger'sribs, resting it so with one hand while I shined my lantern on hisupturned face.

  He wore a captain's uniform in the Canajoharie Regiment; and, as hestared up at me, his throat still clutched by the Saguenay, I found Iwas gazing upon the blotched features of Captain Moucher!

  "Take your hands from his neck-cloth, cut your thrums, and make a cordto tie him," said I, in the Oneida dialect. "He will not move," I added.

  It took the Indian a little while to accomplish this. I held my riflemuzzle to Moucher's ribs. Until his arms were tied fast behind him, hehad not spoken to me nor I to him; but now, as he rose to his knees fromthe mud and then staggered upright, I said to him:

  "This is like to be a tragic business for you, Captain Moucher."

  He winced but made no reply.

  "I am sorry to see you here," I added.

  "Do you mean to murder me?" he asked hoarsely.

  "I mean to question you," said I. "Be good enough to step into thatcanoe."

  The Indian and I held the frail craft. Moucher stepped into it,stumbling in the darkness and trembling all over.

  "Sit down on the bottom, midway between bow and stern!"

  He took the place as I directed.

  "Take the bow paddle," said I to Yellow Leaf. "Also loosen your knife."

  And when he was ready, I shoved off, straddled the stern, and, kneeling,took the broad paddle.

  "Captain Moucher," said I, "if you think to overturn the canoe, in hopeof escape, my Indian will kill you in the water."

  The canoe slid out into darkness under the high stars.