From Kingdom to Colony

by Mary Devereux

  CHAPTER XXVIII

  "Oh, Mary, which one of them do you suppose is he?" whispered Dorothy,as the two girls hung over the balustrade of the upper hall, watchingthe figures entering through the outer door, all of them so muffled instorm-cloaks as to look precisely alike, save as to height.

  The landlord, with much obsequious bustling, had hastened forward tomeet them. His wife was beside him, and she had just summoned aservant to assist in taking the wet wrappings from the new arrivals asshe stood courtesying before them.

  "The rooms be aired, lighted, and fires made, as ordered, sir," Traskwas saying.

  In one hand he held aloft a clumsy brass candlestick holding threelighted candles, while the other hand was placed over his heart, as ifthat member needed to be repressed under the well-filled proportions ofhis ample waistcoat; and he was bowing with great servility before afigure whose stature far exceeded that of the other new-comers, butwhose face, hidden by his hat, could not be seen by the eager onlookersat the top of the stairs.

  "Oh, Dot, they are coming straight up here," Mary gasped; and bothgirls sprang back in dismay at sight of the procession beginning tofile up the stairway, preceded by the landlord, who now carried acandlestick in either hand.

  Scarcely knowing what they were doing, and intent solely uponconcealing themselves, they darted through the doorway of the nearestroom, which was lighted only by a cheery wood fire.

  "They will surely see us as they go by," whispered Mary, for, onceinside, they saw that the door by which they had entered was in theextreme corner of the room, rendering the entire interior visible to apasser-by.

  "Let us shut the door," Dorothy suggested.

  But Mary said quickly, "No, that will never do. The landlord may haveleft it open, and would notice it being closed."

  It had not occurred to them that all this was probably on account ofthe room being one of those assigned to the new guests, for Mary hadgiven but slight heed to what Mistress Trask said as to the entireupper floor being taken, and Dorothy had heard naught of the matterbeyond what Mary told her.

  "Here is another room," said the younger girl joyfully, for her alerteyes had spied a half-closed door communicating with an inner and darkapartment.

  It took them only a moment to gain this place of refuge and shut thedoor; then, standing close to it, they listened for any sound toindicate the passage of the procession down the hall, and so leave theman opportunity to return unobserved to their own apartments.

  "I wish we had never done so foolish a thing," Mary said in a lowvoice. She was breathing rapidly, and trembling from agitation.

  "So do I--as it is," was Dorothy's hurried answer. "But if I onlycould have seen him, so as to know him, I should not care."

  The next minute they were awakened to new dismay by the sound of heavyfootsteps entering the outer room. Then they heard the landlord say,"This is the room, your Excellency; I trust it be such as to suit you."

  A calm, full-toned voice replied: "Thank you, landlord; everythingseems quite as it should be. The other gentlemen will be here shortly;show them up at once, when they arrive."

  "Yes, sir--certainly, sir," Trask replied. "This is the bedroom, sir."And the sound of his heavy feet approaching the door caused stillgreater terror to the trembling girls.

  The latch was actually lifted, when the other voice arrested anyfarther movement by saying with a note of impatience: "Yes, yes--verywell, landlord. We should like supper as speedily as it can be served,and as there will be many of us, we will have it downstairs."

  Trask seemed now to take his leave, for they heard the outer doorclose. Then the same voice, mellow and dignified as at first, came tothem again.

  "No doubt, Dalton, they have been detained by the storm."

  "Faith, sir, 't is little such a man as Glover cares for water,"replied another voice, more jovial and evidently younger; "although, tobe sure, he may prefer the water to be salt, being more used to thatflavor."

  Mary pulled Dorothy by the arm.

  "We must walk straight out of here," she whispered, "this very minute.There is nothing else for us to do."

  "Well,--go on." The words came brokenly from the younger girl's lips,for her heart was beating in a way to make her actually dizzy.

  Then, as Mary hesitated, Dorothy's sturdy self-reliance returned; andpushing the door wide open, she passed in front of her sister-in-lawand stepped forth into the presence of four officers, wearing theuniform of the Continental army.

  Three of them were wandering about the room, as though awaiting theorders of the fourth,--a very tall man, of massive frame, seated by atable.

  He was examining a sealed packet, and seemed about to open it under thelight of the candles, but looked up quickly as the childish figure cameand stood directly in front of him. Then, as his large gray-blue eyesglanced at the taller one, he arose to his feet, with the unopenedpacket in his hand.

  The other officers had come to a standstill, as though rooted, invarious parts of the room, and stood staring open-mouthed at the fairintruders,--a very evident admiration soon taking the place of theiramazement.

  Their commander now addressed the two girls, looking down from hisgreat height upon the faces wherein embarrassment and veneration seemedhopelessly mingled.

  "Well, ladies," he demanded,--his words and manner, albeit perfectlyrespectful and courteous, tinged with sternness--"what is the meaningof this?"

  They both knew themselves to be in the presence of the great man whomthey had desired so much to look upon, and they could see nothing inthe room but the impressive figure now facing them with such an air ofdignity and command.

  There was about him the very atmosphere of self-nobility,self-reliance; and with it that supreme control which, being the rulerof his own nature, enabled him to govern all the more surely thoseabout him. The steady gaze of the unusually large eyes, every line ofthe firm mouth and chin, bespoke a well-disciplined mind, and the keenintuitions of a born leader of men.

  Mary was dumb from mortification, not unmixed with actual fear, for shecould see no easy way of extricating themselves from their dilemma; butDorothy plucked up heart of grace, and answered, as she dropped alittle courtesy, "It is only that we wanted to see you, sir."

  There was a spontaneous laugh from the three officers; but Washingtonchecked it by turning to them with a frown.

  And yet there was a faint smile touching the corners of his own lips,relaxing their severity, as he looked down at the girl and asked, inthe quizzing tone he might have used toward a child, "Well, little one,now that you have seen me, what will you?"

  "That you will pardon us, sir," Mary answered instantly, as she movedforward to Dorothy's side. Washington bent his head graciously to her.But his smiling eyes went back to the younger girl's face, although hiswords were now in reply to Mary.

  "There is surely little to pardon. Rather let me thank you that I amheld in such esteem, and thought deserving of so much consideration."Then he added with a glance that embraced them both, "May I know yournames?"

  "This is my sister, Dorothy Devereux, of Marblehead; and I am MaryBroughton Devereux, wife of the officer of that name in ColonelGlover's regiment, now stationed at Cambridge."

  Her composure had fully returned, and she spoke with perfectfreedom--indeed with a touch of pride--as she looked up fearlessly intoWashington's face.

  "Aye;" and now his look and voice showed naught but cordiality. "I amhappy, ladies, to make your acquaintance. I happen to know yourhusband, Mistress Devereux, for my present headquarters at Cambridgeare in the house formerly occupied by Colonel Glover and hisofficers.[1] I had also a slight acquaintance with your father-in-law."

  [1] This mansion was afterwards the home of Longfellow.

  "Oh, sir--you say that you knew my father?"

  The lines of his face relaxed still more as he regarded the littlefigure standing before him, her hands clasped impulsively, and thegreat dark eyes, now glittering with tears, raised in a worshipful gazemore e
agerly questioning than was even the sweet voice.

  "Aye, child, I knew him. We met at the house of your townsman, ColonelLee."

  "He is--perhaps you do not know--my father died this spring." Andcrystal drops welled from the big eyes and hung suspended on thecurling lashes.

  "Aye, my dear child," and a note of the tenderest sympathy came to thedeep voice, "so I heard at the time. God grant we may all be as wellprepared as was your good father, when the end shall come."

  There was a pause, filled by the crackling of the fire, whose gleamsmade a bright sparkle of the drops on Dorothy's swart lashes before shecould wipe them away. The other officers were now exchangingsignificant glances, and looking at the girl with much interest.

  The silence was broken by Mary, who was secretly burning to escape.She had waited until she met Washington's eyes; then, as he glanced ather, she made a deep courtesy and said, "And now, sir, if you please,we will retire to our own apartments below stairs."

  "Wait but a moment," he replied. His eyes had gone back to Dorothy,who was standing with clasped hands, looking into the fire, andforgetful of all else than the sorrow his words had awakened within herheart. "Are you abiding under this roof, Mistress Devereux?"

  "Only for this one night, sir," Mary answered. "We are stopping atDorchester, with our old friend Mistress Knollys, and have been towardBoston to see a dying relative. We were returning from there when thestorm overtook us, and are obliged to remain here until to-morrow. Weshall set out again in the morning, sir."

  "Not alone, surely?" he said with a slight frown. "It is scarceprudent for you two young ladies to be travelling these roads, at sucha time as this, without escort."

  "We had an escort, sir, but he went on to Dorchester, to assureMistress Knollys of our safety. He will return in the morning, or elsesend some one for us."

  "That is more as it should be," Washington said with an approving nod."And in case no one comes for you, I myself will take pleasure inseeing that you are provided with a suitable escort."

  Mary courtesied once more, and both girls murmured their thanks.

  The sad look had departed from Dorothy's face as she now stood watchingthe great man whom she might never have the opportunity of beholdingagain; and while so engaged, it happened that one of the buttons of hiscoat came directly opposite her small nose.

  At first she looked at it without any interest,--almost mechanically.Then she was overcome by a sudden intense desire to possess it as asouvenir, to be treasured for all time to come.

  The feeling grew stronger each moment, and there is no saying to whatlengths her childish impulsiveness might have spurred her, had it notbeen for the keen looks bent upon her by the officers at the other sideof the room.

  Washington seemed to be conscious of this, for his eyes took a curiousexpression as he said, looking down into the girl's earnest face, "I amtempted to ask, little one, what great subject makes your eyes sosolemn."

  He spoke more than half jestingly, and it was apparent that he judgedher to be much younger than her actual years, because of her diminutivestature and childish appearance.

  "I was wishing, sir, that you would give me something to remember youby," was her frank answer; "that is,"--hesitating a little--"I waswishing I could have something to keep all my life."

  She stopped, scarcely knowing how to express herself, while Mary staredat her with manifest disapproval.

  "I understand, my child," Washington said, now looking at her moregravely.

  He paused, and seemed to be considering the matter. Then he laid hishand lightly upon the girl's shoulder, much in the way a father wouldhave done.

  "I shall take pleasure, little one, in giving you something by which toremember me."

  Resuming his seat by the table, he took up the packet he was examiningwhen they interrupted him a few minutes before.

  He now opened it hastily, and a number of papers dropped out.

  One of these he picked up, and tore from it a strip, which he looked atcarefully, as though to be certain it was clear of writing; then,dipping a quill into the ink, he wrote a few words upon it.

  "Take this, my child," he said, extending it to her, "and should youever be in need of any service within my power to render, you have butto send this slip of paper, to remind me that I have promised to assistyou."

  Dorothy stood speechless, well-nigh bewildered, her eyes fixed upon hisface, now alight with an aspect almost paternal.

  She said nothing, did not even thank him; but taking the paper, shepressed her lips to the hand that proffered it, and then, turningquickly, sped from the room.

  "We are most honored, sir--you are very kind," said Mary, who felt itincumbent upon her to express their gratitude in more formal fashionthan Dorothy had adopted.

  Washington was looking at the door through which the girl haddisappeared, but now he turned and bowed courteously.

  "Much of the obligation is my own," he replied with courtly gallantry.Then his manner changed as he said: "Your sister is a sweet littlemaid,--it is most sad that she should have lost her father. He was, asis his son, a worthy and stanch patriot. These are troublous times,Mistress Devereux, and one so young and charming as she may come tofeel the need of a protector; although, from all I have seen of herbrother--your husband--it might well be supposed my own poor serviceswould never be called into use."

  "I thank you, sir; and I am sure Dorothy does the same--and both of uswith all our hearts." And Mary ventured to extend her hand.

  Washington arose from his chair, and his large, strong fingers closedabout her own slender ones in a firm clasp, which she felt stilltingling in their tips when she found Dorothy waiting for her at thehead of the stairs.

  "Oh, Mary," she burst out, looking as though something were amiss, "Iam glad you are come. I've been so affrighted."

  Then, as they started down the stairs, she told how adreadful-appearing man had come out of the tap-room, and stood glaringat her, as he demanded fiercely to know her business.

  "I was so scared that I could not speak, and I did not dare go backinto the room. I am sure the man was full of drink."

  "Where is he? I see no one." And Mary craned her neck to look overthe rail into the hall below.

  "He went back into the taproom when he found I would not answer him."

  They had now reached the foot of the staircase; and as though waitingfor the clicking of their high heels on the oaken floor, the taproomdoor opened suddenly, and a great hulking fellow, with a red face,topped by a wild shock of black hair, came staggering against them.

  Both girls cried out, and started to fly up the stairs. But they werereassured by the advent of Mistress Trask, who chanced to be comingdown the hall, and who spoke sharply to the man, bidding him have acare how he ran into ladies.

  "'T is only Farmer Gilbert," she said, turning to her frightenedguests, and seeming surprised to find them in that part of the house."There's no cause to be alarmed, my pretties."

  Mary glanced with disgust at the drunkard, who was now attempting amaudlin apology. But she said nothing, either to him or to thelandlady, and went her way with Dorothy.

  No sooner had they closed the door of their own apartments than theyhurried to the light and examined the precious slip of paper.

  It read: "A solemn promise given to Mistress Dorothy Devereux, ofMarblehead. G. Washington."

  "Oh, Dot," Mary exclaimed, "I never thought,--we have told him anuntruth!"

  Dorothy was still looking at the paper, but at Mary's alarming wordsshe raised her eyes in wonder.

  "You are not Mistress Dorothy Devereux, but Mistress--"

  "Sh-h!" cried Dot, putting her hand quickly over Mary's lips. Thenthey looked at one another and laughed, but uneasily.