XIII
THE MAID-AT-ARMS
I remember little of that dinner save that it differed vastly from thequarrelsome carousal at which the Johnsons and Butlers figured in sosinister a role, and at which the Glencoe captains disgraced themselves.But now, if the patroon's wine lent new color to the fair faces roundme, there was no feverish laughter, nothing of brutal license. Healthswere given and drunk with all the kindly ceremony to which I had beenaccustomed. At times pattering gusts of hand-clapping followed somepopular toast, such as "Our New Flag," to which General Schuylerresponded in perfect taste, veiling the deep emotions that the toaststirred in many with graceful allegory tempered by modesty andself-restraint.
At the former dinner I had had for my neighbors Dorothy and MagdalenBrant. Now I sat between Miss Haldimand and Maddaleen Dirck, whom I hadfor partner, a pretty little thing, who peppered her conversation withfashionable New York phrases and spiced the intervals with French. And Iremember she assured me that New York was the only city fit to live inand that she should never survive a prolonged transportation from thatearthly paradise of elegance and fashion. Which made me itch togo there.
I think, without meaning any unkindness, that Miss Haldimand, theCanadian beauty, was somewhat surprised that I had not already fallen avictim to her lovely presence; but, upon reflection, set it down to mystupidity; for presently she devoted her conversation exclusively toRuyven, whose delight and gratitude could not but draw a smile fromthose who observed him. I saw Cecile playing the maiden's game withyoung Paltz Clavarack, and Lady Schuyler on Sir Lupus's right,charmingly demure, faintly amused, and evidently determined not to beshocked by the free bluntness of her host.
The mischievous Carmichael twins had turned the batteries of their eyeson two solemn, faultlessly dressed subalterns, and had already reducedthem to the verge of capitulation; and busy, bustling Dr. Sleepercracked witticisms with all who offered him the fee of their attention,and the dinner went very well.
Radiant, beautiful beyond word or thought, Dorothy sat, leaning back inher chair, and the candle-light on the frosty-gold of her hair and onher bare arms and neck made of her a miracle of celestial loveliness.And it was pleasant to see the stately General on her right bend besideher with that grave gallantry which young girls find more grateful thanthe privileged badinage of old beaus. At moments her sweet eyes stoletowards me, and always found mine raised to greet her with that silentunderstanding which brought the faintest smile to her quiet lips. Once,above the melodious hum of voices, the word "war" sounded distinctly,and General Schuyler said:
"In these days of modern weapons of precision and long range, conflictsare doubly deplorable. In the times of the old match-locks andblunderbusses and unwieldly weapons weighing more than three times whatour modern light rifles weigh, there was little chance for slaughter.But now that we have our deadly flint-locks, a battle-field will be asad spectacle. Bunker Hill has taught the whole world a lesson thatmight not be in vain if it incites us to rid the earth of this wickedfrenzy men call war."
"General," said Sir Lupus, "if weapons were twenty times as quick anddeadly--which is, of course, impossible, thank God!--there would alwaysbe enough men in the world to get up a war, and enjoy it, too!"
"I do not like to believe that," said Schuyler, smiling.
"Wait and see," muttered the patroon. "I'd like to live a hundred yearshence, just to prove I'm right."
"I should rather not live to see it," said the General, with a twinklein his small, grave eyes.
Then quietly the last healths were given and pledged; Dorothy rose, andwe all stood while she and Lady Schuyler passed out, followed by theother ladies; and I had to restrain Ruyven, who had made plans to followMarguerite Haldimand. Then we men gathered once more over our port andwalnuts, conversing freely, while the fiddles and bassoons tuned up fromthe hallway, and General Schuyler told us pleasantly as much of themilitary situation as he desired us to know. And it did amuse me toobserve the solemn subalterns nodding all like wise young owlets, asthough they could, if they only dared, reveal secrets that wouldastonish the General himself.
Snuff was passed, offered, and accepted with ceremony befitting; spiritsreplaced the port, but General Schuyler drank sparingly, and hiswell-trained suite perforce followed his example. So that when it cametime to rejoin our ladies there was no evidence of wandering legs, noamiably vacant laughter, no loud voices to strike the postprandialdiscord at the dance or at the card-tables.
"How did I conduct, cousin?" whispered Ruyven, arm in arm with me as weentered the long drawing-room. And my response pleasing him, he made offstraight towards Marguerite Haldimand, who viewed his joyous arrivalnone too cordially, I thought. Poor Ruyven! Must he so soon close thegate of Eden behind him?--leaving forever his immortal boyhood sleepingamid the never-fading flowers.
It was a fascinating and alarming spectacle to see Sir Lupus walking aminuet with Lady Schuyler, and I marvelled that the gold buttons on hiswaistcoat did not fly off in volleys when he strove to bend what once,perhaps, had been his waist.
Ceremony dictated what we had both forgotten, and General Schuyler ledout Dorothy, who, scarlet in her distress, looked appealingly at me tosee that I understood. And I smiled back to see her sweet face brightenwith gratitude and confidence and a promise to make up to me what thestern rule of hospitality had deprived us of.
So it was that I had her for the Sir Roger de Coverley, and after thatfor a Delaware reel, which all danced with a delightful abandon, evenMiss Haldimand unbending like a goddess surprised to find a pleasure inour mortal capers. And it was a pretty sight to see the ladies pass,gliding daintily under the arch of glittering swords, led by LadySchuyler and Dorothy in laughing files, while the fiddle-bows whirred,and the music of bassoon and hautboys blended and ended in a finalmellow crash. Then breathless voices rose, and skirts swished and Frenchheels tapped the polished floor and solemn subalterns stalked aboutseeking ices and lost buckles and mislaid fans; and a faint voice said,"Oh!" when a jewelled garter was found, and a very red subaltern said,"Honi soit!" and everybody laughed.
Presently I missed the General, and, a moment later, Dorothy. As I stoodin the hallway, seeking for her, came Cecile, crying out that they wereto have pictures and charades, and that General Schuyler, who was to bea judge, awaited me in the gun-room.
The door of the gun-room was closed. I tapped and entered.
The General sat at the mahogany table, leaning back in his arm-chair;opposite sat Dorothy, bare elbows on the table, fingers clasped.Standing by the General, arms folded, Jack Mount loomed a colossalfigure in his beaded buckskins.
"JACK MOUNT LOOMED A COLOSSAL FIGURE IN HIS BEADEDBUCKSKINS".]
"Ah, Mr. Ormond!" said the General, as I closed the door quietly behindme; "pray be seated. They are to have pictures and charades, you know; Ishall not keep Miss Dorothy and yourself very long."
I seated myself beside Dorothy, exchanging a smile with Mount.
"Now," said the General, dropping his voice to a lower tone, "what wasit you saw in the forest to-day?"
So Mount had already reported the apparition of the painted savage!
I told what I had seen, describing the Indian in detail, and repeatingword for word his warning message to Mount.
The General looked inquiringly at Dorothy. "I understand," he said,"that you know as much about the Iroquois as the Iroquois dothemselves."
"I think I do," she said, simply.
"May I ask how you acquired your knowledge, Miss Dorothy?"
"There have always been Iroquois villages along our boundary until lastspring, when the Mohawks left with Guy Johnson," she said. "I havealways played with Iroquois children; I went to school with MagdalenBrant. I taught among our Mohawks and Oneidas when I was thirteen. ThenI was instructed by sachems and I learned what the witch-drums say, andI need use no signs in the six languages or the clan dialects, saveonly when I speak with the Lenni-Lenape. Maybe, too, the Hurons andAlgonquins have words that I know not, for many Tu
scaroras do notunderstand them save by sign."
"I wish that some of my interpreters had your knowledge, or a fifth ofit," said the General, smiling. "Tell me, Miss Dorothy, who was thatIndian and what did that paint mean?"
"The Indian was Joseph Brant, called Thayendanegea, which means, 'He whoholds many peoples together,' or, in plainer words, 'A bundleof sticks.'"
"You are certain it was Brant?"
"Yes. He has dined at this table with us. He is an educated man." Shehesitated, looking down thoughtfully at her own reflection in thepolished table. "The paint he wore was not war-paint. The signs on hisbody were emblems of the secret clan called the 'False-Faces.'"
The General looked up at Jack Mount.
"What did Stoner say?" he asked.
"Stoner reports that all the Iroquois are making ready for some unknownrite, sir. He saw pyramids of flat river-stones set up on hills and hesaw smoke answering smoke from the Adirondack peaks to theMayfield hills."
"What did Timothy Murphy observe?" asked Schuyler, watching Mountintently.
"Murphy brings news of their witch, Catrine Montour, sir. He. chased hertill he dropped--like all the rest of us--but she went on and on arunning, hop! tap! hop! tap! and patter, patter, patter! It stirs myhair to think on her, and I'm no coward, sir. We call her 'TheToad-woman.'"
"I'll make you chief of scouts if you catch her," said the General,sharply.
"Very good, sir," replied Mount, pulling a wry face, which made us alllaugh.
"It has been reported to me," said the General, quietly, "that theButlers, father and son, are in this county to attend a secret council;and that, with the help of Catrine Montour, they expect to carry theMohawk nation with them as well as the Cayugas and the Senecas.
"It has further been reported to me by the Palatine scout that theOnondagas are wavering, that the Oneidas are disposed to stand ourfriends, that the Tuscaroras are anxious to remain neutral.
"Now, within a few days, news has reached me that these three doubtfulnations are to be persuaded by an unknown woman who is, they say, theprophetess of the False-Faces."
He paused, looking straight at Dorothy.
"From your knowledge," he said, slowly, "tell me who is this unknownwoman."
"Do you not know, sir?" she asked, simply.
"Yes, I think I do, child. It is Magdalen Brant."
"Yes," she said, quietly; "from childhood she stood as prophetess of theFalse-Faces. She is an educated girl, sweet, lovable, honorable, andsincere. She has been petted by the fine ladies of New York, ofPhiladelphia, of Albany. Yet she is partly Mohawk."
"Not that charming girl whom I had to dinner?" I cried, astonished.
"Yes, cousin," she said, tranquilly. "You are surprised? Why? You shouldsee, as I have seen, pupils from Dr. Wheelock's school return to theirtribes and, in a summer, sink to the level of the painted sachem, everyvestige of civilization vanished with the knowledge of the tongue thattaught it."
"I have seen that," said Schuyler, frowning.
"And I--by your leave, sir--I have seen it, too!" said Mount, savagely."There may be some virtue in the rattlesnake; some folk eat 'em! Butthere is none in an Indian, not even stewed--"
"That will do," said the General, ignoring the grim jest. "Do you speakthe Iroquois tongues, or any of them?" he asked, wheeling around toaddress me.
"I speak Tuscarora, sir," I replied. "The Tuscaroras understand theother five nations, but not the Hurons or Algonquins."
"What tongue is used when the Iroquois meet?" he asked Dorothy.
"Out of compliment to the youngest nation they use the Tuscaroralanguage," she said.
The General rose, bowing to Dorothy with a charming smile.
"I must not keep you from your charades any longer," he said, conductingher to the door and thanking her for the great help and profit he hadderived from her knowledge of the Iroquois.
He had not dismissed us, so we awaited his return; and presently heappeared, calm, courteous, and walked up to me, laying a kindly hand onmy shoulder.
"I want an officer who understands Tuscarora and who has felt the biteof an Indian bullet," he said, earnestly.
I stood silent and attentive.
"I want that officer to find the False-Faces' council-fire and listen toevery word said, and report to me. I want him to use every endeavor tofind this woman, Magdalen Brant, and use every art to persuade her tothrow all her influence with the Onondagas, Oneidas, and Tuscaroras fortheir strict neutrality in this coming war. The service I require may bedangerous and may not. I do not know. Are you ready, Captain Ormond?"
"Ready, sir!" I said, steadily.
He drew a parchment from his breast-pocket and laid it in my hands. Itwas my commission in the armies of the United States of America ascaptain in the militia battalion of Morgan's regiment of riflemen, andsigned by our Governor, George Clinton.
"Do you accept this commission, Mr. Ormond?" he asked, regarding mepleasantly.
"I do, sir."
Sir Lupus's family Bible lay on the window-sill; the General bade Mountfetch it, and he did so. The General placed it before me, and I laid myhand upon it, looking him in the face. Then, in a low voice, headministered the oath, and I replied slowly but clearly, ending, "Sohelp me God," and kissed the Book.
"Sit down, sir," said the General; and when I was seated he told me howthe Continental Congress in July of 1775 had established three Indiandepartments; how that he, as chief commissioner of this Northerndepartment, which included the Six Nations of the Iroquois confederacy,had summoned the national council, first at German Flatts, then atAlbany; how he and the Reverend Mr. Kirkland and Mr. Dean had done allthat could be done to keep the Iroquois neutral, but that they had notfully prevailed against the counsels of Guy Johnson and Brant, thoughthe venerable chief of the Mohawk upper castle had seemed inclined toneutrality. He told me of General Herkimer's useless conference withBrant at Unadilla, where that chief had declared that "The King ofEngland's belts were still lodged with the Mohawks, and that the Mohawkscould not violate their pledges."
"I think we have lost the Mohawks," said the General, thoughtfully."Perhaps also the Senecas and Cayugas; for this she-devil, CatrineMontour, is a Huron-Seneca, and her nation will follow her. But, if wecan hold the three other nations back, it will be a vast gain to ourcause--not that I desire or would permit them to do battle for me,though our Congress has decided to enlist such Indians as wish to serve;but because there might be some thousand warriors the less to hang onour flanks and do the dreadful work among the people of this countrywhich these people so justly fear."
He rose, nodding to me, and I followed him to the door.
"Now," he said, "you know what you are to do."
"When shall I set out, sir?" I asked.
He smiled, saying, "I shall give you no instructions, Captain Ormond; Ishall only concern myself with results."
"May I take with me whom I please?"
"Certainly, sir."
I looked at Mount, who had been standing motionless by the door, anattentive spectator.
"I will take the rifleman Mount," I said, "unless he is detailed forother service--"
"Take him, Mr. Ormond. When do you wish to start? I ask it because thereis a gentleman at Broadalbin who has news for you, and you must passthat way."
"May I ask who that is?" I inquired, respectfully.
"The gentleman is Sir George Covert, captain on my personal staff, andnow under your orders."
"I shall set out to-night, sir," I said, abruptly; then stepped back tolet him pass me into the hallway beyond.
"Saddle my mare and make every preparation," I said to Mount. "When youare ready lead the horses to the stockade gate.... How long willyou take?"
"An hour, sir, for rubbing down, saddling, and packing fodder,ammunition, and provisions."
"Very well," I said, soberly, and walked out to the long drawing-room,where the company had taken chairs and were all whispering and watchinga green baize curtain which somebo
dy had hung across the farther endof the room.
"Charades and pictures," whispered Cecile, at my elbow. "I guessed two,and Mr. Clavarack says it was wonderful."
"It certainly was," I said, gravely. "Where is Ruyven? Oh, sitting withMiss Haldimand? Cecile, would you ask Miss Haldimand's indulgence for afew moments? I must speak to Sir Lupus and to you and Ruyven."
I stepped back of the rows of chairs to where Sir Lupus sat in his greatarm-chair by the doorway; and in another moment Cecile and Ruyven cameup, the latter polite but scarcely pleased to be torn away from hisfirst inamorata.
"Sir Lupus, and you, Cecile and Ruyven," I said, in a low voice, "I amgoing on a little journey, and shall be absent for a few days, perhapslonger. I wish to take this opportunity to say good-bye, and to thankyou all for your great kindness to me."
"Where the devil are you going?" snapped Sir Lupus.
"I am not at liberty to say, sir; perhaps General Schuyler may tellyou."
The patroon looked up at me sorrowfully. "George! George!" he said, "hasit touched us already?"
"Yes, sir," I muttered.
"What?" whispered Cecile.
"Father means the war. Our cousin Ormond is going to the war," exclaimedRuyven, softly.
There was a pause; then Cecile flung both arms around my neck and kissedme in choking silence. The patroon's great, fat hand sought mine andheld it; Ruyven placed his arm about my shoulder. Never had I imaginedthat I could love these kinsmen of mine so dearly.
"There's always a bed for you here; remember that, my lad," growled thepatroon.
"Take me, too," sniffed Ruyven.
"Eh! What?" cried the patroon. "I'll take you; oh yes--over my knee, youimpudent puppy! Let me catch you sneaking off to this war and I'll--"
Ruyven relapsed into silence, staring at me in troubled fascination.
"The house is yours, George," grunted the patroon. "Help yourself towhat you need for your journey."
"Thank you, sir; say good-bye to the children, kiss them all for me,Cecile. And don't run away and get married until I come back."
A stifled snivel was my answer.
Then into the room shuffled old Cato, and began to extinguish thecandles; and I saw the green curtain twitch, and everybodywhispered "Ah-h!"
General Schuyler arose in the dim light when the last candle was blownout. "You are to guess the title of this picture!" he said, in his even,pleasant voice. "It is a famous picture, familiar to all present, Ithink, and celebrated in the Old World as well as in the New.... Drawthe curtain, Cato!"
Suddenly the curtain parted, and there stood the living, breathingfigure of the "Maid-at-Arms." Her thick, gold hair clouded her cheeks,her eyes, blue as wood-violets, looked out sweetly from the shadowybackground, her armor glittered.
A stillness fell over the dark room; slowly the green curtains closed;the figure vanished.
There was a roar of excited applause in my ears as I stumbled forwardthrough the darkness, groping my way towards the dim gun-room throughwhich she must pass to regain her chamber by the narrow stairway whichled to the attic.
She was not there; I waited a moment, listening in the darkness, andpresently I heard, somewhere overhead, a faint ringing sound and thedeadened clash of armed steps on the garret floor.
"Dorothy!" I called.
The steps ceased, and I mounted the steep stairway and came out into thegarret, and saw her standing there, her armor outlined against thewindow and the pale starlight streaming over her steel shoulder-pieces.
I shall never forget her as she stood looking at me, her steel-cladfigure half buried in the darkness, yet dimly apparent in its youthfulsymmetry where the starlight fell on the curve of cuisse and greave,glimmering on the inlaid gorget with an unearthly light, and stirringpale sparks like fire-flies tangled in her hair.
"Did I please you?" she whispered. "Did I not surprise you? Cato scouredthe armor for me; it is the same armor she wore, they say--theMaid-at-Arms. And it fits me like my leather clothes, limb and body.Hark!... They are applauding yet! But I do not mean to spoil the magicpicture by a senseless repetition.... And some are sure to say a ghostappeared.... Why are you so silent?... Did I not please you?"
She flung casque and sword on the floor, cleared her white forehead fromits tumbled veil of hair; then bent nearer, scanning my eyes closely.
"Is aught amiss?" she asked, under her breath.
I turned and slowly traversed the upper hallway to her chamber door, shewalking beside me in silence, striving to read my face.
"Let your maids disarm you," I whispered; "then dress and tap at mydoor. I shall be waiting."
"Tell me now, cousin."
"No; dress first."
"It will take too long to do my hair. Oh, tell me! You have frightenedme."
"It is nothing to frighten you," I said. "Put off your armor and come tomy door. Will you promise?"
"Ye-es," she faltered; and I turned and hastened to my own chamber, toprepare for the business which lay before me.
I dressed rapidly, my thoughts in a whirl; but I had scarcely slungpowder-horn and pouch, and belted in my hunting-shirt, when there came arapping at the door, and I opened it and stepped out into thedim hallway.
At sight of me she understood, and turned quite white, standing there inher boudoir-robe of China silk, her heavy, burnished hair in two loosebraids to her waist.
In silence I lifted her listless hands and kissed the fingers, then thecold wrists and palms. And I saw the faint circlet of the ghost-ring onher bridal finger, and touched it with my lips.
Then, as I stepped past her, she gave a low cry, hiding her face in herhands, and leaned back against the wall, quivering from head to foot.
"Don't go!" she sobbed. "Don't go--don't go!"
And because I durst not, for her own sake, turn or listen, I reeled on,seeing nothing, her faint cry ringing in my ears, until darkness and acold wind struck me in the face, and I saw horses waiting, black in thestarlight, and the gigantic form of a man at their heads, fringed capeblowing in the wind.
"All ready?" I gasped.
"All is ready and the night fine! We ride by Broadalbin, I think....Whoa! back up! you long-eared ass! D'ye think to smell a Mohawk?... Oris it your comrades on the picket-rope that bedevil you?... Look atthe troop-horses, sir, all a-rolling on their backs in the sand, fourhoofs waving in the air. It's easier on yon sentry than when they're alla-squealin' and a-bitin'--This way, sir. We swing by the bush and pickup the Iroquois trail 'twixt the Hollow and Mayfield."