CHAPTER VII
It was the dining-room of the house wherein the four men sat in earnestconsultation; and now that they were alone, their faces were grave tosolemnity.
The oak-ceiled and wainscoted room was filled with lurking shadows inthe far corners, where the light from the candles did not penetrate;and the inside shutters of stout oak were closed and bolted over theone great window, along which ran a deep cushioned seat.
Joseph Devereux sat by the mahogany table, whose black polish reflectedthe lights, mirror-like, and--but more dully--the yellow brass of thecandlesticks. His elbow was resting upon the smooth wood, his handsupporting his head; and in the light of the candle burning near, hisface looked unusually stern.
His son sat opposite, his face mostly in shadow, as he lay back in hischair and thrummed the table with his slender brown fingers.
At either side sat Nicholson Broughton and Hugh Knollys, the formerlooking stern and troubled as he smoked his long pipe, while theyounger man's face held but little of its usual light-heartedexpression. His hands were thrust deep in his breeches' pockets, andhe whistled softly now and then in an absent-minded way.
"Aye, 't is a grave state of affairs, Broughton," Joseph Devereux wassaying. "I love not oppression, nor tyrannical dealing. And yet,think you that ever was a petty tyrant overthrown, and the instrumentsof his punishment could always escape a pricking o' the conscience,that made it not easy for them to look back upon their own share in hisdownfall? Shall the time come, I wonder, when we must question thetruth o' this inspiration we are now acting under as a town and as acountry?"
"Nay, say I,--never!" exclaimed Broughton, with fiery ardor. "Beinghuman, we must all feel sympathy for suffering, be it in enemy orfriend. But our land is lost, and we nothing better than slaves, didwe longer submit to the tyranny of the mother country. As God badeMoses of old lead the children of Israel from the bondage and cruelinjustice of Pharaoh, so we should feel that He now bids us, as menwith a country, and as fathers with families to cherish and protect, torise up and assert our manhood, and to assure our freedom, even thoughit be by as fierce a war as ever was waged."
"And war there's bound to be!" It was Hugh Knollys who said this, andhe seemed to look more cheery at the thought.
Joseph Devereux glanced at him sharply, and then turned to his son.
"You say, Jack," he asked, "that Strings said the Governor was to ordera body o' soldiers down to the Neck?"
"Yes, sir--and that right away."
At this, Nicholson Broughton spoke up, looking at his host.
"As I was saying to you awhile back, neighbor Devereux, the committeeordered to Boston, to decide upon delegates, must get a start from townbefore the redcoats get into quarters upon the Neck, or there may betrouble which it were as well to avoid. This was decided upon when wemet at the Fountain Inn, this afternoon; and 't was agreed that all whogo from here should take the road to Boston before to-morrow's dawn.John and Hugh, here, reckon on going along with us, to meet Brattle inBoston, for he has sent word that he is to sail the day after to-morrowwith a shipload of supplies ordered down by the Governor for thesoldiery at Salem. This will be a fine opportunity for smuggling downthe firearms and powder which have been hid so long in Boston, waitingthe chance for safe conveyance here."
Before Joseph Devereux could speak, his son broke in eagerly: "Hugh andI will come down with Brattle, and we'll lie off at anchor, as near ourown shore as may be. Some one must be ready to give us the signal fromthe land; and if all is safe, we can put the guns and powder ashore andhide them. This will be the safest plan, for about Great Bay thesoldiers will be on the lookout for anything unwonted; and in LittleHarbor it will be as bad, for they will have their eyes wide open tokeep a sharp watch upon the Fountain Inn, and all about it--be it onland or water."
"You say truly, Jack," his father assented, "But whom can we trust togive the signal? Ah," with a sigh, "if only I had back a few of my ownlost years, or was not so lame!"
"Brains can serve one's land, friend Devereux, as well, oftentimesbetter, than arms," said Broughton, looking at his host's massive headand intelligent features. "We all have our appointed work to do, andno man is more capable than you of doing his share."
"I pray it maybe so," was the reply. "But, be it much or little, all Ihave and am are at the service of our cause."
"Why not let Dorothy be the one to give the signal?" asked HughKnollys, as from a sudden inspiration.
"Just the one," said John Devereux, looking over at his father. "Shefears nothing, and can be relied upon in such a matter."
The old gentleman seemed a bit reluctant, and sat silent for a fewmoments. Then speaking to his son, he said: "Call the child in. Thisis no time to hold back one's hand from the doing of aught that beneedful to help the cause of our land."
It was not many minutes before Dorothy came into the room behind herbrother; and her eyes opened wider than ever as their quick glance tookin the solemn conclave about the table.
Her father stretched out an inviting hand. "Come here, Dot," he saidsmilingly. "Do not look so frightened, my baby." And he patted hersmall hand in a loving way as he drew her close beside him.
"No," added Hugh mischievously, his face having now regained its usualjollity, "we are not going to eat you, Dorothy."
She deigned him no reply, not even a glance, but stood silently besideher father, while she looked questioningly into her brother's face.
He explained in a few words the matter in hand; and the flash of hereyes, together with the smile that touched the upturned corners of hermouth, told how greatly to her liking was the duty to which she hadbeen assigned.
Jack had scarce finished speaking, when there was an interruption, inthe person of Aunt Penine, who entered bearing a tray, upon which weretumblers and a bowl of steaming punch.
She shot a glance of marked disapproval at Dorothy; then, as she placedthe tray upon the table in front of her brother-in-law, she said in atone of acidity, "Were it not better, think you, Joseph, that the girlwent into the other room and stopped with Lettice and Mary Broughton?"
Dorothy turned her eyes defiantly upon the elder woman, her soft browssuggesting the frown that came to her father's face as he said withgrave severity: "The child is here, Penine, because I sent for her.Let the punch be as it is--and leave us, please."
She tossed her head belligerently, and without speaking took herdeparture, casting a far from friendly look at the others.
"I strongly suspect, father," said John, as he rose and crossed theroom to close the door his aunt, either by accident or intent, had leftajar, "that we'd best have a care how we let Aunt Penine hear aught ofour affairs. Her sympathies are very sure to be with the other side,if the struggle comes to blows."
"I will see to Penine," his father answered quietly. "Do you go oninstructing Dot as to what she is to do."
His son bowed, and turned once more to the girl.
"And so, Dot, as I've said already, you must reckon surely upon thevessel lying off the beach in a straight line with the Sachem's Cave,on Friday night, at about eleven o'clock. And this being Monday, willgive four days, which will be time enough to allow for all that's to bedone. But you must watch, child, even if it prove later in the night,or even in the morning, before we arrive. And when you see a lightshowing, then disappearing, then two lights, and then three, you mustanswer from the shore if all be well, and 't is safe to land, byshowing two lights, and then letting them burn for us to steer by.Mount as high as you can to the uppermost level above the cave, so thatwe may get a good view of your signal. Can you keep all this in thatsmall head of yours?" And he smiled at her, as though some happyouting were being planned.
She nodded quickly, but with a grave face; then, after a moment'shesitation, she asked, "May I tell Mary?"
Her brother's eyes dropped, as Hugh Knollys flashed a laughing glanceupon him. But her father replied at once: "Aye, it were best to do so.And if neighbor Broughton has no obje
ctions, it were more prudent thatshe should be your companion."
"Not I!" responded Broughton heartily, raising to his lips the glass ofpunch his host had been dispensing from the bowl in front of him. "Butbe over-careful, Dorothy, as to who may be about to overhear what yousay to her. And"--his voice growing very grave--"may God keep youboth, for two brave, right-hearted girls."
"Amen!" said Joseph Devereux. And he lifted his glass to the others,as though pledging them and the great cause they all had so devoutly atheart.
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