CHAPTER VII
I
"For still my mem'ry lingers on the scenes And pleasures of the days beyond recall."
Peggy's voice, timid, soft though pretty, died away into an enrapturedsilence which seemed to endure for the longest while before the roomburst into a generous measure of applause. She was very well accompaniedon the clavichord by Miss Rutteledge and on the harp by Monsieur Ottow,Secretary to the French Minister. The evening had been delightful; theassembly brilliant in quality, and unaffectedly congenial and diverting.The music had contributed much to the pleasures of the function, for theShippens' was one of the few homes in the city where such a resource wasat all possible.
"Major! Major Franks! What do you think of my little girl? Do you think'twould be well for her to cultivate such a voice?"
Mrs. Shippen turned sideways. There was gratification, genuine,complacent gratification, visible in every line of her smiling face.
"Splendid! Splendid! Of course. Madame, she sings very prettily,"replied the Major, gathering himself from the state of partial reposeinto which he had fallen.
He sat up.
"And do you know, Major," went on the fond mother, "she never had atutor, except some of our dear friends who made this their home duringthe winter."
"You mean the British?"
"Of course they did not make so free with everybody in the city, withonly a few, you know. It was for General Howe himself that Margaretfirst made bold enough to sing."
"She does very well, I am sure," was the reply.
The little group again lapsed into silence as Peggy responded with anencore, this selection being a patriotic air of a lighter vein. TheMajor again lapsed into an easy attitude, but Mrs. Shippen was visiblyintent upon every motion of the singer and followed her every syllable.
"How much does music contribute to one's pleasure!" she remarked whenthe conversation began to stir.
"It is charming," Mr. Anderson observed.
"And do you know that we inherited that clavichord? It is one of theoldest in the country."
"It appears to be of rare design," remarked Mr. Anderson, as his eyespierced the distance in a steady observance of it.
"It belonged to Mr. Shippen's father," she boasted. "This house, youknow, was the home of Edward Shippen, who was Mayor of the city over anhundred years ago. It was then, if I do say it, the most pretentioushome in the city. My husband was for disposing of it and removing toless fashionable quarters, but I would not hear of it. Never!"
Major Franks surveyed the great room deliberately.
"'Twould make a fine castle!" he commented as he half turned and crossedone knee over the other. He felt that this would be his last visit ifhe continued to take any less interest, yet even that apparently causedhim no great concern.
And yet, a great house it was, the quondam residence of Edward Shippen,the progenitor of the present family, a former Mayor of the city, whohad fled thither from Boston where he had suffered persecution at thehands of the Puritans who could not allow him to be a Quaker. It stoodon an eminence outside the city. It was well surrounded, with its greatorchard, its summer house, its garden smiling with roses, and lilies;bordered by rows of yellow pines shading the rear, with a spacious greenlawn away to the front affording an unobstructed view of the city andthe Delaware shore. It was a residence of pretentious design and at thetime of its construction was easily the most sumptuous home in the city.
The Shippens had been the leaders of the fashionable set, not alone indays gone by, the days of colonial manners when diversions andenjoyments were indulged in as far as the austerities of the staid oldQuaker code would allow; but also during the days of the presentvisitation of the British, when emulation in the entertainment of thevisitors ran riot among the townsfolk. Small wonder that the presentlord of the manor felt constrained to write to his father that he shouldbe under the necessity of removing from this luxurious abode toLancaster, "for the style of living my fashionable daughters haveintroduced into my family and their dress will I fear before long obligeme to change the scene." Yet if the truth were told, the style of livinginaugurated by the ambitious daughters was no less a heritage than apart of the discipline in which they had been reared.
If the sudden and forced departure of the dashing as well as theeligible British Officers from the city had totally upset the cherishedsocial aspirations of the mother of the Shippen girls, the advent of thegallant and unmarried Military Governor had lifted them to a newer andmuch higher plane of endeavor. The termination of a matrimonial alliancewith the second in command of the patriotic forces not less than theforemost in rank of the city gentry, would more than compensate for theloss of a possible British peerage. Theirs was a proud lineage to boastof and a mode of unfeigned comfort and display. And it took but thebriefest possible time for the artful mother to discern that her cleverand subtle devices were beginning to meet with some degree of success.
The present function was wholly her affair, and while it was announcedas a purely informal gathering, the manner and the scheme of thedecorations, the elegance and the care with which the women dressed, theorder, the appointments, the refreshments, not to mention thedistinguished French visitors, would permit no one to surmise that, evenfor a moment. Care had been taken to issue invitations to therepresentative members of the city's upper class, more especially to thenewly arrived French Officers and their wives, as well as thecommissioned members of the Continental Army. There were the Shippengirls, their persistent friend, Miss Chew, as well as Miss Franks, whosebrother was now attached to the staff of General Arnold, and a dozenother young ladies, all attractive, and dressed in the prevailingelegance of fashion; the hair in an enormous coiffure, in imitation ofthe fashions of the French, with turbans of gauze and spangles and ropesof pearls, the low bodices with the bow in front, the wide sashesbelow. It was an altogether brilliant assembly, with the MilitaryGovernor the most brilliant of all.
"Tell me, Major," asked Mrs. Shippen in measured and subdued language asshe leaned forward in an apparently confidential manner, "does GeneralArnold visit often?"
"Oh, yes!" replied the Major at once, "he is very generous with hiscompany."
Her face fell somewhat.
"Now, isn't that strange? I was told that he made a practice of callingat no home outside of ours."
He uncrossed his leg and shifted in his chair rather uneasily.
"Quite true." He saw at once that he had made an unhappy remark. "But ofcourse he makes no social calls, none whatsoever. You must know that theaffairs of state require all of his time, for which duty he is obligedto visit many people on matters of pure business."
"Oh!"
She appeared satisfied at this explanation.
"It seems as if we had known him all our lives. He feels so perfectly athome with us."
"Exactly."
"You have met him often with us, haven't you, Marjorie?"
"I first met him at the Military Ball through Peggy," Marjorie repliednaively.
"But you must have met him here. He has been here so often," sheinsisted.
"Then I vow our General has felt the smite of your fair daughter'scharms," remarked Mr. Anderson.
Marjorie breathed a sigh of relief at the timely interruption.
"Do you really think so?" asked Mrs. Shippen, with no attempt to concealher impatience.
"Unquestionably.
'Smiles from reason flow, To brute denied, and are of love the food.'
So sang the bard, and so sing I of His Excellency."
"But his age! He cannot now be thinking of matrimony."
"Age, my dear Mrs. Shippen, is a matter of feeling, not of years. Thegreatest miracle of love is to eradicate all disparity. Before it age,rank, lineage, distinction dissolve like the slowly fading light of thesun at eventide. The General is bent on conquest; that I'll wager. Whatsay you, Major? A five pound note?"
"Not I. 'Old men are twice children,' you know."
"Well, if I
do say it," remarked Mrs. Shippen, "my daughter has had asplendid education and is as cultured a girl as there is in the city andwould make a fitting helpmate for any man, no matter what his positionin life may be."
The orchestra began to fill the room with the strains of the minuet. Mr.Anderson arose and advanced towards Marjorie.
"May I have the pleasure of your company?" he said.
Marjorie arose and gave him her arm.
II
She tripped through the graces of the minuet in a mechanical sort of afashion, her thoughts in a far off land of amazement and gloomydesolation. The unexpected and adverse stroke of fortune which haddescended with hawk-like velocity upon Stephen had thoroughlydisconcerted her. Try as she would, her imagination could not be broughtunder her control. There was one image that would not out, and that wasStephen's.
A short note from him gave the first inkling to her. He had been placedunder arrest by order of Major-General Arnold on the charge of strikinghis superior officer, in violation of the Fifth Article, Second Sectionof the American Articles of War. The charge had been preferred on theevening previous to his arrest and bore the signature of ColonelForrest, with whom, she called to mind, he had participated in theaffray at the Inn.
Little would come of it. Of that she could rest assured. For if he choseto present his side of the case, cause might be found against theColonel in the matter of disrespectful language against theCommander-in-chief. On that account the affair would very probably endwhere it had begun and his sword would once more be restored to him.Should the Colonel press the case, however, it would result in acourt-martial, that being the usual tribunal before which such matterswere tried.
For the present he was under arrest. He was not confined and no limitswere assigned to him in the order of his arrest, yet he was deprived ofhis sword and therefore without power to exercise any military commandpending his trial. Since it was considered indecorous in an officerunder arrest to appear at public places, it would be impossible for himto accompany her to the home of the Shippens on Friday evening. Thiscaused him the greater concern, yet his word of honor obliged him toawait either the issue of his trial or his enlargement by the properauthority.
He bade her be of good cheer and asked a remembrance in her prayers,assuring her she would be ever present in his thoughts. Since he wasallowed the use of his personal liberty, he would soon make use of afavorable opportunity to pay her a call. Until then, he could tell herno more, save the desire to have her attend the party and to enjoyherself to the utmost.
From the moment of her receipt of this letter, she had rehearsed theincidents therein narrated over and over again. Go where she would herthought followed her as instinctively as the homeward trail of the bee.Reflection possessed her and she was lost in the intricate maze of theworld of fancy.
To follow mere instinct does not beseem a man, yet for woman thisfaculty is the height of reason and will be trusted by her to the veryend. Marjorie's instinct told her that all would not be well withStephen, notwithstanding his place of honor on the staff of theCommander-in-chief, to whom he might readily appeal should the occasionrequire. The charge was of minor consequence, and could under ordinarycircumstances be dismissed; but it would not be dismissed. He would betried, found guilty, and sentenced. A consummation too horrible forthought!
She could not enjoy herself at Peggy's function, that she knew. But shemust attend, if for no other reason than for appearance. The strangeregard for this officer, which she had discovered to be growing daily inintensity and depth, had been brought to definite realization by thesudden crisis in Stephen's fortunes. The sudden revelation of this truthfrom which she was wont to recoil with petulant diffidence alarmed hernot a little. She must not allow herself to be perturbed over thisincident, and no one, not even her mother, must ever be permitted todetect the slightest concern on her part.
"You seem unusually preoccupied this evening, Mistress Allison,"remarked Mr. Anderson as he led her to one side of the room at theconclusion of the dance.
Marjorie started. She could feel herself coloring into a deep scarlet,which endured the more as she strove desperately to retain her naturalcomposure.
"I? Why? No! Did I appear absent-minded?"
"As if sojourning in some far off land."
She thought for a moment.
"We all inhabit dream countries."
"True. We do. And there is no swifter vehicle to that fair land than aninattentive companion."
"You mean----"
"That I am entirely at fault for allowing you to wander there."
"You are unkind to yourself to say that."
"I vow I mean it."
They neared the settee into which he gallantly assisted her. She maderoom for him by drawing back the folds of her gown.
"Have you ever had a miniature made?" he asked of her.
"Never. I scarce gave it a thought," she replied nonchalantly.
"In that gown, you would make a perfect picture."
"Couldst thou paint it?" she asked quickly with the attitude of one whohas proposed an impossible question.
"Aye, and willingly, would I," he smartly replied.
"I should love to see it. I should scarce know mine own face."
She regarded the subject with ridicule, observing as she spoke the endof the sash with which her fingers had been fumbling.
"You shall see it as it is with no artful flattery to disfigure it. MayI bring it in person? The post-rider's bag is too unworthy a messenger."
"Lud! I shall be unable to restrain my curiosity and await the carrier."
"Then I shall be the carrier."
"Nothing would afford me more pleasure."
Neither of the two spoke for a moment.
She wondered if she were imprudent. While she had not known this manbefore this evening, still she knew of him as the one who took part inthe disturbance at the Coffee House.
He seemed unusually attentive to her, although not unpleasantly so, andinnocently enough the question presented itself to her as to the importof his motives. He had sought no information nor did he disclose anyconcerning himself, for at no time did their conversation arise to anyplane above the commonplace. Yet she was willing to see him again and todiscover, if possible, the true state of his mind.
Stephen, she knew, would approve of her action; not only because of thepersonal satisfaction which might be derived therefrom, but also becauseof the possibilities which such a meeting might unfold. That Andersonwas prompted by some ulterior motive and that he was not attracted somuch by her charms as by the desire of seeking some advantage, she waskeen enough to sense. Just what this quest might lead to could not befathomed, yet it presented at all hazards a situation worthy of morethan a passing notice.
She mistrusted General Arnold, a mere opinion it was true, for shepossessed no evidence to warrant even a suspicion, yet something aboutthe man created within her heart a great want of confidence andreliance. He was supremely overbearing and unusually sensitive. This,together with his vaulting ambition and love of display,--traits whicheven the merest novice could not fail to observe,--might render himcapable of the most brilliant achievements, such as his exploits beforethe walls of Quebec and on the field of Saratoga, or of unwise andwholly irresponsible actions, of some of which, although of minorconsequence, he had been guilty during the past few months. He dislikedher form of religious worship, and she strongly suspected this was thereason he so openly opposed the alliance with the French. She regardedthis prejudice as a sad misfortune in a man of authority. His judgmentswere liable to be clouded and unfair.
She knew Peggy like a book and she could easily imagine the influencesuch a girl could exert, as a wife, on a man so constituted. Peggy'ssocial ambition and her marked passion for display and domination,traits no less apparent in her than in her mother, would lead her toview the overtures of her impetuous suitor with favor, notwithstandingthe fact that he was almost double her own age. As his wife she wouldattain a social prestige. S
he was a Tory at heart, and he evidenced atsundry times the same inclinations. She was a Quaker, while he belongedto the religion of His Majesty, the King; nevertheless, both agreed inthis, that the miserable Papists were an ambitious and crafty lot, whowere bent on obtaining an early and complete mastery over this country.The pair were well mated in many respects, thought Marjorie, thedisparity in their ages was all that would render the match at allirregular, although Peggy's more resolute will and intense ambitionwould make her the dominant member of the alliance. Little as theGeneral suspected it, Marjorie thought, he was slowly, though surely,being encircled in the web which Peggy and her artful mother wereindustriously spinning about him.
III
Marjorie and Anderson sat conversing long and earnestly. Several danceswere announced and engaged in, with little or no manifest attention ontheir part, so engrossed were they in the matter of more serious import.At length they deserted their vantage ground for the more open andcrowded room, pausing before Peggy and the General, who were shelterednear the entrance.
"Heigho, John!" exclaimed His Excellency upon their approach, "whatstrange absconding is this? Have a care, my boy, lest you have to answerto Captain Meagher."
Marjorie felt the gaze of the group full upon her. She flushed a little.
"Little or no danger, nor cause alleged," she laughed.
"Captain Meagher!" recollected Anderson, "does he excel?"
"I scarce know," replied Marjorie. "I have met him not over thrice in mylife."
"Once is quite sufficient," said the General. "First impressions oftenendure. But stay. Draw your chairs. I was only saying that I may berequired to leave here shortly."
"You have been transferred?" asked Marjorie.
"No! But I have written to Washington begging for a command in the navy.My wounds are in a fair way and less painful than usual, though there islittle prospect of my being able to be in the field for a considerabletime."
They sat down as requested, opposite Peggy and the General.
"But, General, have you not taken us into your consideration?" askedAnderson.
"I have, yet the criticism is becoming unendurable. Of course you haveheard that matters have already become strained between the civilgovernment and myself. Only last week my head aide-de-camp sent for abarber who was attached to a neighboring regiment, using as a messengerthe orderly whom I had stationed at the door. For this trifling orderthere has been aroused a hornet's nest."
"Wherein lay the fault?" asked Marjorie.
"In this. It appears from a letter which I have already received fromthe father of the sergeant (Matlack is his name, to be exact) that theboy was hurt by the order itself and the manner of it, and as a freemanwould not submit to such an indignity as to summon a barber for the aideof a commanding officer. We have a proud, stubborn people to rule, whoare no more fitted for self-government than the Irish----"
He stopped short.
Marjorie bit her lip. "I wish, General, you would withdraw yourcomparison. It is painful to me."
"I am sorry, Mistress Allison. As a matter of fact I hardly knew what Ihad said. I do withdraw it."
"Thank you so much."
Then he went on.
"These Americans are not only ungrateful, but stupidly arrogant. Whatcomparison can be drawn between this dullard, Matlack, whose feelings asa citizen were hurt by an order of an aide-de-camp, and I, when I wasobliged to serve a whole campaign under the command of a gentleman whowas not known as a soldier until I had been some time a brigadier. Myfeelings had to be sacrificed to the interest of my country. Does notthe fool know that I became a soldier and bear the marks upon me, tovindicate the rights of citizens?"
He talked rapidly, yet impassionately. It was plain, however, that hewas seriously annoyed over the turn of events, on which subject heconversed with his whole being. He made gestures with violence. His facebecame livid. His attitude was menacing.
"On my arrival here, my very first act was condemned. It became my duty,because of sealed orders from the Commander-in-chief, who enclosed aresolution adopted by Congress, to close the shops. From the day,censure was directed against me. I was not the instigator of it. Yet Iwas all to blame."
He sat up with his hands on his knees, looking fiercely into the nextroom.
"I would not feel so bitter, your Excellency," volunteered Anderson."Military orders, however necessary, always seem oppressive to civiliansand shopkeepers."
"I have labored well for the cause, and my reward has been this. I tookTiconderoga, although Allen got the credit for it. I would have takenCanada, if Congress had not blundered. I saved Lake Champlain with myflotilla,--a fleet that lived to no better purpose nor died moregloriously,--and for this I got no promotion, nor did I expect one. Iwon at Ridgefield and received a Major-Generalship, only to find myselfoutranked by five others. At Saratoga I was without a command, yet Isucceeded in defeating an army. For that service I was accused of beingdrunk by the general in command, who, for his service, received a goldmedal with a vote of thanks from Congress, while I--well, the peoplegave me their applause; Congress gave me a horse, but what I prize morethan all,--these sword knots," he took hold of them as he spoke, "apersonal offering from the Commander-in-chief. I gave my all. I receiveda few empty honors and the ingratitude of a jealous people."
He paused.
"General," began Marjorie, "you know the people still worship you andthey do want you for their popular leader."
"I know differently," he snapped back. "I have already petitionedCongress for a grant of land in western New York, where I intend to leadthe kind of life led by my friend Schuyler in Livingston, or the VanRenssalaers and other country gentlemen. My ambition now is to be a goodcitizen, for I intend never to draw a sword on the American side."
He again grew silent.
Whether he was sincere in his remarks, and his manner of expressionseemingly revealed no other disposition of mind, or was swayed simply bysome unfounded antipathy which caused the image of his aversion tobecome a sort of hallucination, Marjorie could not decide. She knew himto be impulsive and irrepressible, a man who, because of his deficiencyin breadth, scope of intelligence, and strong moral convictions,invariably formed his opinions in public matter on his personalfeelings. He was a man of moods, admirably suited withal for a commandin the field where bluntness and abruptness of manner could cause him torise to an emergency, but wholly unfitted for this reason for adiplomatic office where the utmost delicacy of tact and nicety ofdecision are habitually required.
She knew, moreover, that he ever bore a fierce grudge towards Congressfor the slights which it had put upon him, and that this intensefeeling, together with his indomitable self-will, had brought him intoconflict with the established civil authority. He was Military Governorof the city and adjacent countryside, yet there existed an ExecutiveCouncil of Pennsylvania for the care of the state, and the line ofdemarcation between the two powers never had been clearly drawn.Accordingly there soon arose many occasions for dispute, which a moreeven-tempered man would have had the foresight to avoid. His point ofview was narrow, not only in affairs civil and political, but it must besaid, in social and religious as well. Of all commanders, he was themost unsuited for the task.
Furthermore she knew that he was becoming decidedly more unpopular eachday, not only because of the extravagance in his manner of living, butalso because of his too frequent association with the Tory element ofthe city. While the British had held the city many of the morearistocratic inhabitants had given them active aid and encouragement,much to the displeasure of the more loyal though less important lowerclass. Consequently when the days of the evacuation had come and thecity had settled down once again to its former style of living, many ofthe Tory element were compelled to leave town while those who hadremained behind were practically proscribed. Small wonder was it thatindignation ran riot when the first Military Governor openly cast hislot with the enemies of the cause and consorted with them freely andfrequently.
It
was entirely possible that he would abide by his decision to resignall public office and retire to private life, notwithstanding the factthat he already had at this same moment despatched a letter to GeneralWashington requesting a command in the navy. But she read himdifferently and found herself surprised to learn of his intendedwithdrawal, for his very nature seemed to indicate that he would fighthis cause to the bitter end, and that end one of personal satisfactionand revenge.
Several of the guests prepared to depart. The little group disbanded asPeggy made her way to their side.
Marjorie and John Anderson lost each other for the first time in themelee which ensued.
IV
"Perhaps I ought to return," Marjorie muttered to herself, now that shewas quite alone. "I am sure that he dropped something."
And she began to retrace her steps.
She felt positive that she saw General Arnold accidentally dislodge whatappeared to be a folded note from his belt when he took hold of thesword knots in the course of his conversation. Very likely it was areport of some nature, which had been hurriedly thrust into his beltduring some more preoccupied moment. At any rate it might be safer inher hands than to be left to some less interested person. She wouldinvestigate at any rate and resolve her doubts.
Sure enough, there it was. Just behind the armchair in which he had beenseated but a few moments before. None of the others had observed it, shethought, for she alone was in a position, a little to his left, tonotice it, when it had become loosed.
She picked it up and regarded it carelessly, nervously, peering thewhile into the great room beyond to discover, if possible, aneye-witness to her secret. From its appearance it was no more than afriendly communication written on conventional letter paper. It wasunsealed, or rather the seal had been broken and from the wrinkledcondition of the paper gave evidence of not a little handling. Itbelonged to Peggy. There was no doubt about that, for there was her namein heavy bold script on the outside.
She balanced it in her hand, weighing, at the same time, within hermind, one or two possibilities. She might read it and then, if thematter required it, return it immediately to His Excellency with anexplanation. Yet it would smack of dishonor to read the privatecorrespondence of another without a sufficiently grave reason. Itbelonged to Peggy, who, in all probability, had been acquainting theGeneral with its contents as Mr. Anderson and herself intruded upon thescene. She therefore resolved to return it unread.
Hastily folding it, she stuck it into her bodice, and made her way intothe room where she became lost among the guests. There would be timeenough when the formalities of the departure were over, when Peggy wasless occupied, to hand it her. She would wait at any rate until later inthe evening.