XLI
HOW I PLAYED THE HOST AT MY OWN FIRESIDE
You may be sure that by now the anger gale had blown itself out, thatthe madness had passed for both of us; and when I stirred, Richard brokeout in a tremulous babblement of thanksgiving for that he had not slainme outright.
"I was mad, Jack; as mad as any Bedlamite," he would say. "The devilwhispered me that you would fight; that you wanted but a decent excuseto thrust me out of the way. And when I saw you would not stir, 'twastoo late to do aught but turn the flat of the blade. Oh, God help me!I'll never let a second thought of that little Tory prat-a-pace send meto hell again."
"Nay," said I; "no such rash promises, I pray you, Richard. We are buttwo poor fools, with the love of a woman set fair between us. But youneed not fight me for it. The love is yours--not mine."
"Don't say that, Jack; I'm selfish enough to wish it were true; as it isnot. I know whereof I speak."
"No," I denied, struggling to my feet; "it has been yours from thefirst, Dick. I am but a sorry interloper."
For a moment he was all solicitude to know if my head would let mestand; but when I showed him I was no more than clumsily dizzy from theeffects of the blow, he went on.
"I say I know, and I do, Jack. She has refused me again."
I groaned in spirit. I knew it must have come to that. Yet I would askwhen and where.
"'Twas on our last day's riding," he went on; "after we had had yournote saying you would undertake a mission for Colonel Davie."
I took two steps and groped for the horse's bridle rein.
"Did she tell you why she must refuse you?"
He helped me find the rein for my hand and the stirrup for my foot.
"There was no 'why' but the one--she does not love me."
"But I say she does, Dick; and I, too, know whereof I speak."
He flung me into the saddle as a strong man might toss a boy, and Iunderstood how that saying of mine had gone into his blood.
"Then there must be some barrier that I know not of," he said. Whereuponhe put hand to head as one who tries to remember. "Stay; did you not saythere was a barrier, Jack?--when we were wrestling with death in theIndian fires? Or did I dream it?"
"You did not dream it. But you were telling me what she said."
"Oh, yes; 'twas little enough. She cut me off at the first word as ifmy speaking were a mortal sin. And when I would have tried again, shegave me a look to make me wince and broke out crying as if her heartwould burst."
I steadied myself as I could by the saddle horn and waited till he wasup and we were moving on. Then I would say: "Truly, there is a barrier,Richard; if I promise you that I am going to Charlotte to remove it oncefor all, will you trust me and go about your affair with General Gates?"
"Trust you, Jack? Who am I that I should do aught else? When I am cooland sane, I'm none so cursed selfish; I could even give her over to youwith a free hand, could I but hear her say she loves you as I would haveher love me. But when I am mad.... Ah, God only knows the black bloodthere is in the heart at such times."
We rode on together in silence after that, and were come to the bank ofthe river before we spoke again. But here Dick went back to my warning,saying, whilst we let the horses drink: "'Tis patrolled on the otherbank, you say?"
"It was when I passed it a few days agone."
"Then I will turn back and cross at Beattie's. 'Twill make you a riskyou need not take--to have me with you."
But I thought now that the upper ford might be guarded as well; and ifthere must be a cutting of a road through the enemy's outpost line forDick, two could do it better than one. So I said:
"No; we are here now, and if need be I can lend you the weight of asecond blade to see you safe through."
"And you with your head humming like a basket of bees, as I make nodoubt it will?"
I laughed. "I should be but a sorry soldier and a sorrier friend if Ishould let a love-tap with the flat of a blade make me fail you at thepinch."
He reached across the little gap that parted us and grasped my hand.
"By God!" he swore, most feelingly, "you are as true as the steel youcarry, Jack Ireton!"
"Nay," said I, in honest shame; "I do confess I was thinking less of myfriend than of the importance of the errand he rides on."
"But if there should be a fight, you will spoil your chance of comingpeaceably to Charlotte and my Lord's headquarters."
"If I am recognized--yes. But the night is dark, and a brush with theoutpost need not betray me."
At this he consented grudgingly, and we pushed on to the crossing. Nowsince this fording place of Master Macgowan's has marched into ourhistory, you will like to know what the historians do not tell you:namely, how it was but a makeshift wading place, armpit deep over amuddy bottom from the western bank to the bar above an island inmid-stream, and deflecting thence through rocky shallows to a point onthe eastern bank some distance below the island. 'Twas here that LordCornwallis got entangled some months later--but I must not anticipate.
We made the crossing of the main current in safety and were a-splash inthe rocky shallows beyond the island when we sighted the camp-fires ofthe outpost. To ride straight upon the patrol was to invite disaster,and though Jennifer was for a charging dash, a hurly-burly with thesteel, and so on to freedom beyond, he listened when I pointed out thatour beasts were too nearly outworn to charge, and that the noise we mustmake would rouse the camp and draw the fire of every piece in it longbefore we could reach the bank and come to blade work.
"What for it, then?" he asked, impatiently. "My courage is freezingwhilst we wait."
"There is nothing for it but to hold straight on across," I said.
"That we can not; 'twill be over the horses' ears. The beasts will drownthemselves and us as well."
How we should have argued it out I do not know, for just then Jennifer'shorse, scenting the troop mounts on the farther shore, cocked tail andears, let out a squealing neigh, and fell to curveting and plunging in aracket that might have stood for the splashings of an advancing army.
In a twinkling the outpost camp was astir and a bellowing hail came tous across the water. Having no answer, the troopers began to let offtheir pieces haphazard in the darkness; and with the singing _zip_ ofthe first musket ball, Richard went battle-mad, as he always did in theface of danger.
"At them!" he thundered, clapping spurs to his jaded beast and whippingout the great claymore; and so we charged, the forlornest hope that everfell upon an enemy.
How we came ashore alive through the gun-fire is one of those mysteriesto which every battle adds its quota; but the poor beasts we rode werenot so lucky. Jennifer's horse went down while we were yet some yardsfrom the bank; and mine fell a moment later. To face a score of waitingenemies afoot was too much for even Richard's rash courage; so when wewere free of the struggling horses we promptly dove for shelter underthe up-stream bank.
Here the darkness stood our friend; and when the redcoat troopers camedown to the river's edge with torches to see what had become of us, wetook advantage of the noise they made and stole away up-stream till ashelving beach gave us leave to climb to the valley level above.
Richard shook himself like a water-soaked spaniel and laughed grimly.
"Well, here we are, safe across, horseless, and well belike to freeze todeath," he commented. "What next?"
I made him a bow. "You are on my demesne of Appleby Hundred, CaptainJennifer, and it shall go hard with us if we can not find a fire to warma guest and a horse to mount him withal. Let us go to the manor houseand see what we can discover."
He entered at once into the spirit of the jest, and together we trudgedthe scant mile through the stubble-fields to my old roof-tree. As youwould guess, we looked to find the manor house turned into an outpostheadquarters; but now we were desperate enough to face anything.
Howbeit, not to rush blindly into the jaws of a trap, we first routedout the old black majordomo at the negro quarters; and when we learned
from him that the great house was quite deserted, we took possession andhad the black make us a rousing fire in the kitchen-arch. Nay, more;when we had steamed ourselves a little dry, we had old Anthony stew andgrill for us, and fetch us a bottle of that madeira of my father'slaying in.
"A toast!" cried Richard, when the bottle came, springing to his feetwith the glass held high. "To the dear lady of Appleby Hundred, and mayshe forgather with the man she loves best, be it you, or I, or another,Jack Ireton!"
We drank it standing; and after would sit before the fire, havering liketwo love-sick school-boys over the charms of that dear lady to whom oneof us was less than naught, and to whom the other could be but naughtwhilst that first one lived.
You will smile, my dears, that we should come to this when, but a shorthour before, one of us had been bent upon slaying the other for MistressMargery's sake. But the human heart is many-sided; notably that heartthe soldier carries. And though I looked not to live beyond the settingof another sun, I was glad to my finger-tips to have this lastloving-cup with my dear lad. I thought it would nerve me bravely forwhat must come--and so it did, though not as I prefigured.
We were still sitting thus before the kitchen-arch when the dawn beganto dim the firelight, and the work of the new day confronted us. Pinneddown, old Anthony confessed that some two or three horses of the ApplebyHundred stables had escaped the hands of the foragers of both sides; andtwo of these he fetched for us. Of the twain one chanced to beBlackstar, the good beast which had carried me from New Berne in thespring; and so I had my own horse betwixt my knees when I set Dick amile on the road to Salisbury, and bade him farewell.
His last word to me was one of generous caution.
"Remember, Jack; 'haste, haste, post haste' is your watchword. Therewill be other couriers in from the battle-field at King's Mountain; andyou must hang and fire your news-petard and vanish before they come tobetray you."
"Trust me," said I, evasively; and so we parted, he to gallop eastward,and I to charge down peaceably upon that British outpost we had setabuzz in the small hours of the night.
The Master of Appleby Page 43