BOOK I
THE EVENTS OF A NIGHT
For Love of Country
CHAPTER I
_Katharine Yields her Independence_
If Seymour could have voiced his thought, he would have said that theearth itself did not afford a fairer picture than that which lay withinthe level radius of his vision, and which had imprinted itself sopowerfully upon his impressionable and youthful heart. It was not thescenery of Virginia either, the landscape on the Potomac, of which hewould have spoken so enthusiastically, though even that were a thingnot to be disdained by such a lover of the beautiful as Seymour hadshown himself to be,--the dry brown hills rising in swelling slopesfrom the edge of the wide quiet river; the bare and leafless trees upontheir crests, now scarce veiling the comfortable old white house, whichin the summer they quite concealed beneath their masses of foliage; andall the world lying dreamy and calm and still, in the motionless hazeof one of those rare seasons in November which so suggests departeddays that men name it summer again. For all that he then saw in naturewas but a setting for a woman; even the sun itself, low in the west,robbed of its glory, and faded into a dull red ball seeking to hide itshead, but served to throw into high relief the noble and beautiful faceof the girl upon whom he gazed,--the girl who was sun and life andlight and world for him.
The most confirmed misogynist would have found it difficult tochallenge her claim to beauty; and yet it would require a more severecritic or a sterner analyst than a lover would be likely to prove, tosay in just what point could be found that which would justify theclaim. Was it in the mass of light wavy brown hair, springing from alow point on her forehead and gently rippling back, which she woreplaited and tied with a ribbon and destitute of powder? How sweetlysimple it looked to him after the bepowdered and betowered misses ofthe town with whom he was most acquainted! Was it in the broad lowbrow, or the brown, almost black eyes which laughed beneath it; or thevery fair complexion, which seemed to him a strangely delightful andunusual combination? Or was it in the perfection of a faultless, ifsomewhat slender and still undeveloped figure, half concealed by thevivid "Cardinal" cloak she wore, which one little hand held looselytogether about her, while the other dabbled in the water by her side?
Be this as it may, the whole impression she produced was one whichcharmed and fascinated to the last degree, and Mistress KatharineWilton's sway among the young men of the colony was-well-nighundisputed. A toast and a belle in half Virginia, Seymour was not thefirst, nor was he destined to be the last, of her adorers.
The strong, steady, practised stroke, denoting the accomplishedoarsman, with which he had urged the little boat through the water, hadgiven way to an idle and purposeless drift. He longed to cast himselfdown before the little feet, in their smart high-heeled buckled shoesand clocked stockings, which peeped out at him from under herembroidered camlet petticoat in such a maliciously coquettish manner;he longed to kneel down there in the skiff, at the imminent risk ofspoiling his own gay attire, and declare the passion which consumedhim; but something--he did not know what it was, and she did not tellhim--constrained him, and he sat still, and felt himself as far away asif she had been in the stars.
In his way he was quite as good to look at as the young maiden; tall,blond, stalwart, blue-eyed, pleasant-featured, with the frank engagingair which seems to belong to those who go down to the sea in ships,Lieutenant John Seymour Seymour was an excellent specimen of thathardy, daring, gallant class of men who in this war and in the nextwere to shed such imperishable lustre upon American arms by theirexploits in the naval service. Born of an old and distinguishedPhiladelphia family, so proud of its name that in his instance they haddoubled it, the usual bluntness and roughness of the sea were temperedby this gentle birth and breeding, and by frequent attrition with menand women of the politest society of the largest and most importantcity of the colonies. Offering his services as soon as the news ofLexington precipitated the conflict with the mother country, he hadalready made his name known among that gallant band of seamen amongwhom Jones, Biddle, Dale, and Conyngham were pre-eminent.
The delicious silence which he had been unwilling to break, since itpermitted him to gaze undisturbed upon his fair shipmate, wasterminated at last by that lady herself.
She looked up from the water with which she had been playing, and thenappearing to notice for the first time his steady ardent gaze, shelaughed lightly and said,--
"Well, sir, it grows late. When you have finished contemplating thescenery, perhaps you will turn the boat, and take me home; then you canfeast your eyes upon something more attractive."
"And what is that, pray?" he asked.
"Your supper, sir. You must be very anxious for it by this time, andreally you know you look quite hungry. We have been out so long; but Iwill have pity on you, and detain you no longer here. Turn the boataround, Lieutenant Seymour, and put me on shore at once. I will standbetween no man and his dinner."
"Hungry? Yes, I am, but not for dinner,--for you, Mistress Katharine,"he replied.
"Oh, what a horrid appetite! I don't feel safe in the boat with you.Are you very hungry?"
"Really, Miss Wilton, I am not jesting at all," he said with immensedignity.
"Oh! oh! He is in earnest. Shall I scream? No use; we are a milefrom the house, at least."
"Oh, Miss Wilton--Katharine," he replied desperately, "I am devoured bymy--"
"Lieutenant Seymour!" She drew herself up with great hauteur, lettingthe cloak drop about her waist.
"Madam!"
"Only my friends call me Katharine."
"And am I not, may I not be, one of your friends?"
"Well, yes--I suppose so; but you are so young."
"I am just twenty-seven, madam, and you, I suppose, are--"
"Never be ungallant enough to suppose a young lady's age. You may dothose things in Philadelphia, if you like, but 't is not the customhere. Besides, I mean too young a friend; you have not known me longenough, that is."
"Long enough! I have known you ever since Tuesday of last week."
"And this is Friday,--just ten days, ten long days!" she repliedtriumphantly.
"Long days!" he cried. "Very short ones, for me."
"Long or short, sir, do you think you can know me in that period? Isit possible I am so easily fathomed?" she went on, smiling.
Now it is ill making love in a rowboat at best, and when one is inearnest and the other jests it is well-nigh impossible; so to theseremarks Lieutenant Seymour made no further answer, save viciously toply the oars and drive the boat rapidly toward the landing.
Miss Katharine gazed vacantly about the familiar river upon whose banksshe had been born and bred, and, finally noticing the sun had gonedown, closing the short day, she once more drew her cloak closely abouther and resumed the neglected conversation.
"Won't you please stop looking at me in that manner, and won't youplease row harder, or is your strength all centred in your gaze?"
"I am rowing as fast as I can, Miss Wilton, especially with this--"
"Oh, I forgot your wounded shoulder! Does it hurt? Does it pain you?I am so sorry. Let me row."
"Thank you, no. I think I can manage it myself. The only pain I haveis when you are unkind to me."
At that moment, to his great annoyance, his oar stuck fast in theoar-lock, and he straightway did that very unsailorly thing known ascatching a crab.
Katharine Wilton laughed. There was music in her voice, but this timeit did not awaken a responsive chord in the young man. Extricating hisoar violently, he silently resumed his work.
"Do you like crabs, Mr. Seymour?" she said with apparent irrelevance.
"I don't like catching them, Miss Wilton," he admitted ruefully.
"Oh, I mean eating them! We were talking about your appetite, were wenot? Well, Dinah devils them deliciously. I 'll have some done foryou," she continued with suspicious innocence.
Seymour groaned in spirit at her perversity, and for the firs
t time inhis life felt an intense sympathy with devilled crabs; but he continuedhis labor in silence and with great dignity.
"What am I to infer from your silence on this important subject, sir?The subject of edibles, which everybody says is of the firstimportance--to men--does not appear to interest you at all!"
He made no further reply.
The young girl gazed at his pale face at first in much amusement; butthe laughter gradually died away, and finally her glance fell to thewater by her side. A few strong strokes, strong enough, in spite of awounded shoulder, to indicate wrathful purpose and sudden determinationto the astute maiden, and the little boat swung in beside the wharf.Throwing the oars inboard with easy skill, Seymour sat motionless whilethe boat glided swiftly down toward the landing-steps, and the silencewas broken only by the soft, delicious lip, lip, lip of the water,which seemed to cling to and caress the bow of the skiff until itfinally came to rest. The man waited until the girl looked up at him.She saw in his resolute mien the outward and visible sign of his inwarddetermination, and she realized that the game so bravely and piquantlyplayed since she met him was lost. They had nearly arrived at theforegone conclusion.
"Well, Mr. Seymour," she said finally, "we are here at last; for whatare you waiting?"
"Waiting for you."
"For me?"
"Ay, only for you."
"I--I--do not understand you."
"You understand nothing apparently, but I will explain." He steppedout on the landing-stage, and after taking a turn or two with thepainter to secure the boat, he turned toward his captive with aceremonious bow.
"Permit me to help you ashore."
"Oh, thank you, Lieutenant Seymour; if I only could, in this littleboat, I would courtesy in return for that effort," she answered withtremulous and transparent bravery. But when the little palm met hisown brown one, it seemed to steal away some of the bitterness of themoment. After he had assisted her upon the shore and up the steps intothe boathouse, he held her hand tight within his own, and with thatpromptitude which characterized him he made the plunge.
"Oh, Miss Wilton--Katharine--it is true I have known you only a littlewhile, but all that time--ever since I saw you, in fact, and evenbefore, when your father showed me your picture--I have loved you.Nay, hear me out." There was an unusual sternness in his voice. Mylord appeared to be in the imperative mood,--something to which she hadnot been accustomed. He meant to be heard, and with beating heartperforce she listened. "Quiet that spirit of mockery but a moment, andattend my words, I pray you. No, I will not release you until I havespoken. These are troublous times. I may leave at any moment--mustleave when my orders come, and I expect them every day, and before I goI must tell you this."
Her downcast eyes could still see him blush and then pale a littleunder the sunburn and windburn of his face, as he went on speaking.
"I have no one; never had I a sister, I can remember no mother; believeme, I entreat you, when I tell you that to no woman have I ever saidwhat I have just said to you. We sailors think and speak and actquickly, it is a part of our profession; but if I should wait for yearsI should think no differently and act in no other way. I love you!Oh, Katharine, I love you as my soul."
There was a note of passion in his voice which thrilled her heart withecstasy; the others had not made love this way.
"You seem to me like that star I have often watched in the long hoursof the night, which has shown me the way on many a trackless sea. Iknow I am as far beneath you as I am beneath that star. But though thedistance is great, my love can bridge it, if you will let me try.Katharine--won't you answer me, Katharine? Is there nothing you cansay to me? 'Dost thou love me, Kate?'" he quoted softly, taking herother hand. How very fair, but how very far away she looked! Thecolor came and went in her cheek. He could see her breast rise andfall under the mad beating of a heart which had escaped her control,though hitherto she had found no difficulty in keeping it well in hand.There was a novelty, a difference, in the situation this time, a newand unexpected element in the event. She hesitated. Why was it nomerry quip came to the lips usually so ready with repartee? Alas, shemust answer.
"I--I--oh, Mr. Seymour," she said softly and slowly, with a downcastface she fain would hide, he fain would see. "I--yes," she murmuredwith great reluctance; "that is--I think so. You see, when youdefended father, in the fight with the brig, you know, and got thatbullet in your shoulder you earned a title to my gratitude, my--"
"I don't want a title to your gratitude," he interrupted. "I want yourlove, I want you to love me for myself alone."
"And do you think you are worthy that I should?" she replied with ashadow of her former archness.
He gravely bent his head and kissed her hand. "No, Katharine, I donot. I can lay no claim to your hand, if it is to be a reward ofmerit, but I love you so--that is the substance of my hope."
"Oh, Mr. Seymour, Mr. Seymour, you overvalue me. If you do that withall your possessions, you will be-- Oh, what have I said?" she criedin sudden alarm, as he took her in his arms.
"My possessions! Katharine, may I then count you so? Oh, Kate, mylovely Kate--" It was over, and over as she would have it; whystruggle any longer? The landing was a lonely little spot under thesummer-house, at the end of the wharf; no one could see what happened.This time it was not her hand he kissed. The day died away intwilight, but for those two a new day began.
The army might starve and die, battles be lost or won, dynasties riseand fall, kingdoms wax and wane, causes tremble in the balances,--whatof that? They looked at each other and forgot the world.
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