CHAPTER XVIII.
THE BREAKING OF THE STORM
Peace was at an end. The smell of war was in the air. May had dawned,hot, sweet, and full of the jangle of many tongues. Strange, wild thingswere happening, and so swiftly that hardly could men sleep, so fiercewere they for news.
Lord Dunmore, Virginia's governor, was looked upon as an enemy, falseand dangerous. Besides trying to take from the people all theirgunpowder, it was found that he had tried to stir up the Indians to makeone of their cruel attacks upon the people. Soon after this he leftWilliamsburg not to return.
News travelled but slowly in those days, and so the May sun had beenshining some weeks when a man on horseback brought the tidings that atabout the same time that the gunpowder had been seized, there hadactually been fighting near Boston.
"Think of it!" exclaimed Parson Kendall, at the table at noon; "themessenger who rode into town this morning saith that seven of ourminutemen were killed, and four others wounded, at Lexington, not farfrom Boston. And at Concord also, close by, there soon followed morefighting.
"Thinketh any one that we will lay down our arms after that? Not so! notso!" cried the parson. "The British rushed forward and destroyed ourstores, making sad havoc for a time, but at what a cost! They very soonwere to know with what manner of rebels they had to deal.
"The whole body of Continental soldiers sprang to their guns, the newsspread from mouth to mouth, and from town to town. Out poured the peoplefrom farm, hamlet, and shop. Boys who had ever handled a gun rushed tothe scene, and from behind trees, rocks, and buildings came a steadyfire into the British ranks, and had not help come to them from Boston,none of those British soldiers would have escaped alive. Three hundredof them were beaten down as it was.
"Glory to God! Such men as ours cannot be beaten. But the town is onfire. Young Reginald Bromfeld, who hath of kith and kin in Boston, isabout to start with a company of youths for Boston, and declareth thathe can scarcely wait to perform the journey, so anxious is he toshoulder a musket, aye, and use it too. I can but wish the lad Godspeed!
"Sir Percival Grandison, whom I cannot but hold as a good man, hathforbidden his son--most unwisely, I fear--to take part with thecolonists either here or elsewhere. And Sir Percival is a man of ironwill. Beshrew me! but I have it in my heart to believe that he wouldkeep the lad from Boston by force, could he do it in no other way.
"And it hath also been told that the proud maid, Rosamond Earlscourt,hath said all in her power to make him feel that he is acting bothunjustly and unkindly in taking a different side from that of parentsand sweetheart--for such she seemeth to hold herself to be. No Southerngentleman would like such words.
"And report hath it that Sir Percival meaneth to go to England for atime, as soon as business matters can be settled here and permit. Ah,but he must act swiftly!"
Sally had listened with ears that tingled.
But all this time there was in her heart a puzzling question, and it hadto do with the soldier's card. By the light of a candle, the night shereceived it, she had seen a name that made her start. For she saw atonce that it was the same that she had seen on the cape and in theletter in Mistress Brace's little trunk.
"What could it mean?" Sally dreaded to know, because the name wasplainly a French one. She had no love or liking for British soldiers,still less for a French soldier who would take up arms against her owndear land.
"For it _shall be_ my own dear land," she said, the determined cleftsettling in her chin.
But small time there was to spend over mysteries or hidden things. Warhad begun, and her Prince at Ingleside must fight his nearest friends ifto battle he would go.
"I would that I could help thee, Fairy Prince!" she cried in her heart.
Did some kind Spirit hear her prayer?
Three days later, toward the close of afternoon Sally went toward thewoodsy place and the pine-trees she had long loved.
She went to the other side of the great oak and sat down on the moss,her back against the tree. She could not easily be seen from the narrowpath as she thus sat cosily curled.
"They say"--she caught her breath--"that on the morrow morn, there goethforth with Reginald Bromfeld, my Fairy Prince, Leon Sutcliff, EdwardByrd, Hugh Spottswood, and others to join the forces at Boston, so sureare all the people that great strife is at hand in that quarter. Andvery swiftly are they to press forward, hoping to be in time for it.
"I must get a look at my Fairy Prince in the morning. He will not hearme bid him 'Godspeed,' but Godspeed I shall bid him with all my heart."
She stood up, intending to walk on, but at a little turn in the thicketroad farther on, she saw three horsemen slowly advancing. They worelight riding-coats, which had concealed the scarlet coats of the king'smen, but these outer garments were now thrown open, showing clearly thecolors beneath them. Sally at once sat down again, huddling herselfclose at the back of the oak, hoping not to be seen as they rode by insingle file.
On coming near, the first man turned in his saddle to answer a remark ofone of his fellows.
"I will hold," he exclaimed, softly, "that I liked it not his keeping sostill. It would have served me better had he kicked or shown temper as Iexpected."
"What good would that have done?" asked the other, stopping his horse amoment, that seemed well spent.
"No good," answered the first man; "but it was a dirty piece of work atbest. I would that Sir Percival could have found another way of keepingback his young son. Strange it were to spirit away the lad in thatstyle. He really thought he was showing us the way, not seeing thecolors we wore until too late."
"My Fairy Prince!" gasped Maid Sally, "my Fairy Prince!"
"Make no more talk," said the third man, stoutly. "No harm hath beendone, no harm whatever! And well paid are we to be. The lad will simplybe detained until too late to join his comrades, a matter of two days orso."
"I half fear me the sharp wits of the lad will find him a way ofescape," said the first speaker, "and he is but six hours' ride fromPamunkey turnpike, where the others will ride at noon to-morrow."
"Aha!" said the third man, "but Farmer Hinds will watch him well. Hisreward will sharpen his eyes, no doubt."
"He would be all right could he but get a horse," said the first man.
"And no horse will he get within miles of Darius Hinds's old farm placefor days to come," said the second man. "Plenty of oxen, but never ahorse or a mule. But come on! Tired out I am. Our work is done. And noone knoweth aught, except that the pert young plotter Bromfeld was toldthat, at the last moment, Sir Percival Grandison's upstart warrior hadchanged his mind and started on a little journey."
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