CHAPTER XXV.
GOOD-BY, SWEETHEART.
"Yet all my life seems going out As slow I turn my face about To go alone another way, to be alone Till life's last day, Unless thy smile can light the way!" --ANON.
In the early morning, before the family were astir, Joscelyn dressedherself hurriedly and went to the attic door. It was ajar. With a quickpremonition of evil, she entered and whispered Richard's name. No answercame; no one was there. Then the truth flashed upon her--he had gone,risking everything rather than further expose her to discovery and itsdire results. How chivalric, and yet how insane! Of course he would becaptured, or else he would perish with cold and hunger this bitterwinter weather. She looked about carefully; not a scrap of a note had heleft to say good-by. She had not dared to wait to speak with him lastnight, lest Mary discover them; but now she reproached herself, feelingthat she might have prevented this mad mistake. She had meant to comeback after all was quiet, but Mary talked so long that for very shameshe had not dared to do so, dreading his man's judgment of a visit atsuch an hour.
She was now in a nervous tremor, and feared to have the maids come in,lest they announce that the spy had been taken; and when they came butsaid naught of it, she began to look for news from outsiders. Severaltimes during the morning meal she glanced across to Aunt Clevering'shouse with such a tempestuous pity for the old lady's coming sorrow thather eyes shone with tears; and her mother, seeing them, thought thatit was sorrow for the estrangement she had wrought between the twofamilies, and resolved to tell Ann Clevering about it.
"Come, Joscelyn," said Mary, looking up from her plate, "an you eat nobreakfast and keep your mouth pulled down at the corners like that,we'll be thinking Captain Barry left unsaid the things he should havesaid last night."
"I know not what you think he should have said--but he was verycharming," the girl said, rousing herself.
"Particularly when you two sat on the stair and whispered so long."
"The time seemed long to you because just at that time Edward Moore wastalking with Pattie Newsom."
"Well," answered Mary, tossing her head, "it was quite as long to him,for he said it seemed years while he was from me."
"Poor Pattie!"
But all the time she jested her heart was full; and she kept her eyes onthe opposite house or watched those who passed in the street to guess,if possible, if they carried news to the commander's quarters. The rainhad passed in the night, but toward dawn the wind had crystallized itinto sleet, so that in the sun the ice-dight world sparkled like a jewelcatching the light upon its many facets and kindling each with adifferent flame; everywhere was a brilliant silvery glisten with gleamsof amethyst and agate, ochre and opal like momentary meteors in themarvellous dazzle. What a day to be hunted across country like a wildanimal by human bloodhounds! What a day to die by a bullet, or, worsestill, on yonder historic hill as the Regulators died!
The hours wore on, and still no tidings came. Joscelyn went restlesslyfrom room to room, unable to fix her attention upon anything. It wasclose upon ten o'clock when the thud of hoofs resounded outside, and aminute after Barry entered the room. Evidently the news he brought wasof a gloomy character, for his face was clouded.
"The spy--they have caught him!" Joscelyn cried, leaning heavily on herchair.
"The spy? What do you mean--what is the matter that you are so pale?"The solicitude in his voice was not unmixed with a curious surprise.Then when she hesitated over her answer, he said; coming quite close toher, "Why are you so interested in this spy?"
Then in a moment she was herself again. "They say it was he who savedmy life on the commons; should I be true to my womanhood if I dismissedhim from my thoughts? I tell you frankly I wish him well."
She returned his gaze quietly, and he took her hand with a deferencethat was an apology. "And I, too, wish him well for that service, nomatter what he may have carried to his general to our undoing--for hehas not been taken. I am a soldier and a servant of the king, but in myheart of hearts your safety is more than the safety of Lord Cornwallis'swhole command."
His reward was a dazzling smile and an invitation to sit with her uponthe sofa, which action brought him within a foot of her. He longed tolessen even that distance, but comforted himself with the thought thathis hand might creep to hers at the first softening of her manner.
"What made you think I brought news of the spy?"
"You were so grave I thought naught but an execution could be inprogress."
"It is indeed a kind of execution, for this is to be my good-by," hesaid sadly. "We march in two hours; already camp is broken, andpreparations are being made."
"And this decision was reached--?"
"Late last night at a council of officers. This spy has carried awayinformation about our position that Greene could use to our defeat;that, with other reasons, brought about the decision. I did not sleepone moment for thinking of leaving you."
"And the search for the spy is given over?"
"Yes."
She could not repress a sigh of relief, but he did not so interpret it.Mary had withdrawn to the window, and her mother had left the room; theytwo might as well have been alone.
"My God, how I shall miss you!" cried the young fellow at last,desperately. "You see I never loved a woman before, and so I know nothow to bear this parting."
"You are a soldier," she said gently. "A soldier endures any painmanfully."
"Yes, but no sword thrust ever hurt like this. You are glad you have metme?"
"Very glad."
"And you will miss me and think of me sometimes?"
"Many times."
"And when the war is over, I may come back and--and claim your love?"
He had taken her hand, and she could not at once draw it away, for astrange hesitation was upon her. "I cannot promise," she said at last."Ten days ago I did not know you."
"Yes, but ten hours taught my heart its lesson for life, and war makesquick wooing."
She slowly but firmly drew her hand away. "I cannot promise; but I loveno one else."
"Then I will wait and hope."
A few minutes later a bugle sent its shrill call down the wind. Hesprang up and hastily shook hands with Mary and Mistress Cheshire, whohad just returned to the room; but, answering his pleading glance,Joscelyn followed him into the hall that the others might not witnessthe emotion of his parting with herself.
"Try to love me," he said, and was gone; and watching him as he passedout of sight, she felt that her hands were wet with the boyish tearsthat had fallen on them as he carried them to his lips in a fervidfarewell. And suddenly she asked herself what happier fate awaited herthan to accept this love poured out so prodigally at her feet. Thequestion brought serious thoughts, so Mary found her but dull companyuntil other visitors arrived to say also their farewells. One of thesebrought a note from Lord Cornwallis. Would she not come and witnesstheir departure?
"Mother," she said, coming downstairs in her habit, "I shall not be athome this afternoon; call Betty over to sort her wools out of myknitting-bag; she will find it on the spinet. And while she works overit, go you once more to Aunt Clevering's, if you please, and intercedefor me; Betty will not mind being left."
Thus did she plan to leave the way open to Eustace for a hasty farewellto his sweetheart.
A little past noon the drums rolled out their hoarse commands, and theBritish army was on the move. An unrestrained excitement ran riot inthe town. There were blaring bugles and flaunting flags, and everywhereglimmers of red as the corps passed onward. At the head of the Britishcolumns rode Lord Cornwallis, and at his bridle-rein went MistressJoscelyn, the picture of good humour and coquetry, with a scarletcockade in her hat, and an officer's sash tied jauntily across herbreast from shoulder to waist. The rich colour of the silk brought outby contrast the sea-blue lights in her eyes and the glossy gleams of herhair. Men forgot the martial pageant to look at her; and when at thehome pier of the river
bridge the staff paused, the salutes from thepassing soldiers were as much for her as for the general beside her.There the parting came, the officers falling in at the rear of thetroops when the last company had passed over. As Eustace passedJoscelyn, he lifted the lapel of his coat, on which was a purpleaster,--the like of which grew nowhere save in Betty's dormerwindow,--and said with a happy smile:--
"Your plan worked well, sweet Joscelyn. Ten minutes of heaven compensatea man for hours of purgatory. May the fates be as kind to your ownheart."
But it was Barry who lingered behind the others for one last look andword, and then went clattering over the bridge, and left the girl toreturn to the town with the few Tory women who had dared to share herride. They had been bold enough at the start, with all the king's armyat their backs, but to go back unprotected by martial power was quiteanother thing; anti-Toryism would now hold sway, and they knew what thatmeant; so at the entrance of the town the others turned aside to findtheir homes, which fortunately were near at hand. But Joscelyn lived atthe far end of the town, and must needs pass the whole length of KingStreet ere she gained her door.
The street, which for the past week had been almost deserted by thepatriotic townspeople, now swarmed with eager men and women; butJoscelyn's thoughts were too full of Richard's escape and Barry's wooingfor her to note the angry glances directed toward her. It was not untilshe was passing the wooden building that had served Cornwallis asheadquarters for his staff, that she became aware of the hostility shewas exciting. Then a voice called out to her to take off that hatedinsignia she wore; and ere she realized what was happening, four or fiveboys had surrounded her horse and were snatching at the sash ends thatdangled from her waist. Her anger flamed up to a white heat at thisinsult, and she laid about her with her riding-whip until they let herbe. A volley of light missiles followed her as she went on her way, herhorse curbed to a walk because she was too proud to seem to fly. Thesame pride kept her from dodging the paper balls and bits of soft mudthat rained around her, and now and then struck her skirts andshoulders. Thus, looking neither to the right nor the left, she wentslowly onward until a little urchin, springing to the middle of the roadin front of her, shouted insolently:--
"Out upon you for a Tory jade!"
His companions screamed their encouragement, thinking to see herdiscomforted; but leaning out of her saddle she said, with that smilethat had played havoc with so many older hearts:--
"Thank you, Jamie, for calling me such a beautiful name. Were theexamples I helped you to work last week quite right? You must come againwhen you get in trouble over them, that I may save you from anotherflogging."
The boy, remembering her timely aid, drew back abashed, dropping the mudhe had been wadding together in his grimy hand; and taking advantage ofthe momentary cessation of hostilities, Joscelyn waved them a laughingsalute and cantered away to her own door. But in the privacy of her roomshe broke down and sobbed out the excitement and suspense of the pasttwo days. The courage which had defied and cheated Tarleton and put theriotous urchins to shame melted away in that burst of tears, and awoman-like longing for protection and safety surged through her. If shemight only go away, or if there were but some one to stand between herand this weary persecution!
The first object upon which her eyes rested as she lifted her head whenthe weeping was past, was that ill-fated scarf with which Barry haddecorated her that morning at headquarters. What a world of meaningthere was in it! Perhaps nothing could so have drawn her heart to theabsent officer as this silent messenger of his love. She folded it awaycarefully, lingering a moment ere she shut it from sight to recall thoselast words he had whispered in her ear ere he followed his comrades overthe river. All the rest of the day they echoed in her thoughts, calmingher by their earnest tenderness.
"Betty came for her wools?" she asked her mother at bedtime.
"Yes. And I forgot to tell you that after I had gone from the houseEustace Singleton came to say good-by to you. When I returned fromAnn's, I found him in the parlour, where his presence must greatly haveannoyed Betty, for she was red and flustered. I am sure I was sorry, butI was in no way to blame for her disturbance." And then tearfully shewent on to tell how her mission with Aunt Clevering had again failed.
The change that came upon Hillsboro' with the going of the British wasas swift as it was pronounced. Where before had been sullen repressionamong the people, all was now animation and exuberance of spirits; theTories were intimidated, and the place bristled with patrioticevidences. It was as though a slide had been slipped in a stereopticon,and a new picture projected upon the canvas. All the talk now ran onGreene, who had moved down from the Dan and lay upon the heights ofTroublesome Creek, only thirteen miles from where Cornwallis had pitchedhis own camp. For nearly two weeks the entire country watched withpanting interest these two generals play their advance-guards andreconnoitring parties against each other as though they were so manyivory figures upon a chessboard. Then came the meeting at GuildfordCourt-house, the fame of which blew through the land like a sirocco'sbreath.
"Lord Cornwallis has won the game at Guildford," cried Joscelyn.
"Ay, won it so hard and fast that he has had to run away to hold thestakes," retorted Mistress Strudwick, equally rejoiced over the Britishretreat to Wilmington.
"Had the militia but done their share, we should have finished Cornwallis for good," Richard wrote to Joscelyn after the battle. "But praise be to Heaven, Banastre Tarleton is among the wounded. I do hope and believe it was my bullet that hit him, for I singled him out for my aim, remembering his bearing to you and my mother last month. If so I hear that his wound proves fatal, I shall wear no mourning."
And, truth to say, Joscelyn herself sorrowed never a bit over the shortcolonel's discomfiture. Later on came another letter:--
"We are on the march to the south to aid Marion, Sumter, and Pickens to snatch South Carolina and Georgia from the foe. We know of the terrible doings of Arnold in Virginia, and General La Fayette has been sent to check him, but much I doubt his success. Ye gods! what a soldier we lost when Arnold went over to the enemy in that traitorous way. He was the one man in our army who was Tarleton's match in a raid. If the Marquis catches him, however, I should like to be at the reckoning. A traitor with the fire of genius in his veins! At Guildford I looked at his old command, and said to myself that the day had gone differently had Arnold led them. Men followed him like sheep to victory or to death. Think you what a demon it takes to harrow one's country, to fight against one's own people!"
As the weeks passed and the spring advanced, Joscelyn's position in thecommunity grew more irksome, for Tory supremacy was at an end and thepatriotic spirit was dominant. "Only the rudeness of some excited boys,"the older folk had said of the incident of her homeward ride the day theBritish withdrew; but it was rather the true index of the public temperagainst her, and not a day went by but she was made to feel it keenly.Never was an occasion to annoy her neglected, until between her and herneighbours was a bloodless but harassing feud that destroyed utterly theold harmony and good will. She felt the change bitterly; every neglector retort rankled in her thoughts until it became as a fester corruptingher happiness. But she kept a brave face to the world, and sang her Toryballads on the veranda in the soft spring twilights, or as she workedthrough the sunny hours in the side yard where no flowers but those thatblossomed red were permitted to blow. And Mistress Strudwick said to hercronies, with genuine admiration, that twenty Guildfords could not breakthe spirit of a girl like that.
But necessarily the thing that hurt Joscelyn most was Aunt Clevering'streatment. Not content to be a spectator, she often took the initiativein the persecution the girl was made to suffer, ignoring her in publicor noticing her only to taunt her with some uncivil word or look. A fewsentences from Joscelyn might have swept away the barriers and restoredthe old friendship, but she would not buy her pardon thus. She possiblymight not be believed with
out the proof of Richard's letter, that firstshort, fervid missive he had sent her on the eve of the great battle;and that she could not show, not even to his own mother, such a heroinedid it make of her, such an ardent, grateful lover of him. Then, too, ifthis quarrel with Aunt Clevering should be healed, people would askquestions, and when the truth should be known she would be in no betterplight--a Tory maid risking everything, even life itself, to hide aContinental spy! Neither friends nor foes would understand; her motiveswould be misinterpreted, her loyalty questioned; and so her last estatewould be no better than her first. Thus did she hold her peace and hideher tears under cover of darkness, the while by day she sang her daringlittle ditties among the growing things of her garden.
Having been the arch-Royalist of the town, it was but natural thatpublic resentment should be most pronounced against her. The Singletonsand Moores were less outspoken, and so drew upon themselves less ofcontumely. Her caustic speeches, on the contrary, were not forgotten,until Mistress Strudwick threatened half tearfully, half playfully toclip her tongue with her sharp scissors. But the chief thing that keptalive the animosity against her were the letters that came to her nowand then from Cornwallis's camp. She did not deny their reception, butsteadily refused to divulge their contents; and as it was believed thatin one way or another she contrived to answer them, the idea got abroadthat she was in the employ of the British general to keep him posted asto the state of things in Hillsboro'-town. Nothing else could so haveset the people against her as this supposed espionage, and all throughthe advancing summer she felt the weight of their displeasure. MistressBryce openly denounced her, boys shouted disrespectful things under herwindow at night, and the shopkeepers so neglected or refused her ordersthat, had it not been for Mistress Strudwick, she and her mother wouldhave suffered; but that good friend stood stanchly by her. So loud werethe outcries against her when she rode abroad that out of deference toher mother's wishes, and also to save herself from needlessmortification, she never had the saddle put upon her horse.
And yet innocent enough were those letters that caused so much oftrouble, filled as they were, not with army news, but with a man'stender love throes,--the vehement pleadings of a heart swayed by itsfirst grand passion.