CHAPTER III
I
An imposing spectacle greeted Marjorie's eyes as she made her way incompany with the Shippen girls into the ballroom of the City Tavern. Thehall was superb, of a charming style of architecture, well furnished andlighted, and brilliantly decorated with a profusion of American andFrench flags arranged in festoons and trianguloids and drapingsthroughout its entire length and breadth, its atmosphere vocal with thestrains of martial music. Everywhere were women dressed with eleganceand taste. The Tory ladies, gowned in the height of fashion, were toMarjorie a revelation at once amazing and impressive.
On a raised dais sat the Governor in his great chair. He was clothed inthe regulation buff and blue uniform of a Major General of theContinental Army. On his shoulders he wore the epaulets and about hiswaist the sword knots General Washington had presented to him thepreceding May. He bore also upon his person the most eloquent of martialtrophies, for his leg, wounded at Quebec and Saratoga, rested heavily ona small cushion before him.
Marjorie who saw him for the first time, was attracted at once by hismanly bearing and splendid physique. His frame was large, his shouldersbroad, his body inclined to be fleshy. His very presence, however, wasmagnetic, still his manner was plain and without affectation. He lookedthe picture of dignity and power as he received the guests in their turnand greeted each with a pointed and pleasant remark.
"Isn't he a handsome figure?" whispered Peggy to Marjorie as they madetheir way slowly to the dais.
Marjorie acquiesced in the judgment. He was still young, hardly morethan thirty-five, his weather-beaten face darkened to bronze fromexposure. His features were large and clean cut with the power ofdecision written full upon them. A firm and forcible chin, with heavylines playing about his mouth; eyes, large and black, that seemed totake toll of everything that transpired about them, suggested a man ofextravagant energy, of violent and determined tenacity in the face ofopposition. No one could look upon his imposing figure without callingto mind his martial achievements--the exploits of Canada, of the Mohawk,of Bemis Heights.
"So this is your little friend," said he to Peggy, eyeing Marjorie asshe made her presentation courtesy. He was now standing, though restingheavily on his cane with his left hand.
"Mistress Allison, this privilege is a happy one. I understand that youare a violent little patriot." He smiled as he gently took her hand.
"I am very pleased, Your Excellency. This is an occasion of rare delightto me."
"And are you so intensely loyal? Your friends love you for yourdevotion, although I sometimes think that they miss General Howe," andhe smiled in the direction of Peggy as he turned to her with thisremark.
"You know, General," Peggy was always ready with an artful reply, "Itold you that I was neither the one nor the other; and that I woreblack and white at the Mischienza, the colors now worn by our Americansoldiers in their cockades in token of the French and AmericanAlliance."
"So you did. I had almost forgotten."
"And that there were some American gentlemen present, as well, althoughaged non-combatants," she continued with a subtle smile.
"For which reason," he responded, "you would, I suppose, have it assumea less exclusive appearance."
"Oh, no! I do not mean that. It was after all a very private affair,arranged solely in honor of General Howe."
"Were some of these young ladies at the Mischienza? And who were theythat rewarded the gallant knights?" he asked.
"Well, the Chew girls, and my sisters, and Miss Franks. There was MissWhite, and Miss Craig," she repeated the list one after the other as hereyes searched the company assembled in the hall. "And that girl in thecorner, Miss Bond, and beyond her, her sister: then there was MissSmith. Miss Bond I am told is engaged to one of your best Generals, Mr.John Robinson."
"We are accustomed to call Mr. Robinson, General Robinson in the army,"he ventured with a smile.
She blushed slightly. "We call him Mr. Robinson in society, or sometimesJack."
"And who might have been your gallant knight? May I ask?"
"The Honorable Captain Cathcart," was her proud reply.
"And who has the good fortune to be your knight for this occasion?" hequestioned, seeking in their hands the billet of the evening.
"We do not know," Marjorie murmured. "We have not as yet met the Masterof Ceremonies."
He looked about him, in search evidently of some one. "ColonelWilkinson!" he called to a distinguished looking officer on his right,"have these fair ladies been assigned to partners?"
The Colonel advanced and presented them with their billets, which werenumbered and which bore the name of the partner that was to accompanythem during the entire evening. Peggy opened hers and found the name ofColonel Jean Boudinot, a young French Officer. Marjorie saw written uponhers a name unknown to her, "Captain Stephen Meagher, aide-de-camp."
"Captain Meagher!" exclaimed the Governor. "He is one of GeneralWashington's aides, detailed for the present in the city. Do you knowhim?"
"No," replied Marjorie timidly, "I do not, I am sorry to say. I havenever had the privilege of meeting him."
"There he is now," said he, indicating with a gesture of the eyes a tallyoung officer who stood with his back toward them.
Marjorie looked in the direction indicated. A becomingly tall and erectfigure, clad in a long blue coat met her gaze. Further scrutinydisclosed the details of a square cut coat, with skirts hooked backdisplaying a buff lining, and with lappets, cuff-linings and standingcapes of like color. His bearing was overmastering as he stood atperfect ease, his hand resting gently on a small sword hanging at hisside; his right wrist showed a delicate lace ruffle as he gestured toand fro in his conversation. As he slightly turned in her direction, shesaw that he wore his hair drawn back from the face, with a gentle rollon each side, well powdered and tied in a cue behind. His features werepleasant to look upon, not large but finely chiseled and marked withexpression. Marjorie thought what a handsome figure he made as he stoodin earnest conversation, dominating the little group who surrounded himand followed his every move with interest and attention.
"Let me call him," suggested the Governor to Marjorie who at that momentstood with her eyes fixed on the Captain. "I am sure he will be pleasedto learn the identity of his fair partner," he added facetiously.
"Oh! do," agreed Peggy. "It would afford pleasure to all of us to meethim."
The General whispered a word to an attendant who immediately set off inthe direction of the unconcerned Captain. As the latter received themessage he turned, looked in the direction of the dais and gazedsteadily at the Governor and his company. His eyes met Marjorie's andshe was sure that he saw her alone. The thought thrilled her through andthrough. He excused himself from the company of his circle, and as hedirected his footsteps towards her, she noted his neat and close fittingbuff waistcoat, and his immaculate linen revealing itself at the throatand ruffled wrists. Nor did she fail to observe that he wore a buffcockade on his left breast and gilt epaulets upon his shoulders.
"Captain Meagher," announced General Arnold. "I have the honor ofpresenting you to your partner for the evening, Mistress Allison."
Marjorie courtesied gracefully to his courtly acknowledgment.
"And the Misses Shippen, the belles of the Mischienza!"
Stephen bowed profoundly.
"I was just remarking, Captain, that General Washington has honored youwith a special mission, and that you have run away from your dutiestonight to mingle with the social life of the city."
"Or rather, Your Excellency, to acquaint myself with their society,"Stephen replied good-naturedly.
"Then you do not relax, even for an evening," inquired Peggy, with acoquettish turn of the head.
"It is the duty of a soldier never to relax." Stephen's reply was morenaive than usual.
"And yet one's hours are shortened by pleasure and action," continuedPeggy.
"As a recreation it is far sweeter than as a business. It soon exhaustsus, h
owever, and it is the greatest incentive to evil."
"But you dance?" interrupted the General.
"Oh, yes! Your Excellency," replied Stephen, "after a fashion."
"Well, your partner is longing for the music. Come, let ye assemble."
And as the dance was announced, the first one being dedicated to "TheSuccess of the Campaign," Stephen and Marjorie moved off and took theirplaces. Peggy and her sisters were soon attended and followed. They weresoon lost in the swirl of excitement among the throng.
II
"And you live alone with your father and mother?"
Marjorie and her partner were sitting in a distant corner whither theyhad wandered at the conclusion of the dance. Stephen began to findhimself taking an unusual interest in this girl and was inquiringconcernedly about her home life.
"Yes, Father's time is much consumed with his attention to the shop.Mother and I find plenty to occupy us about the house. Then I relieveFather at times, and so divide my hours between them," quietly answeredMarjorie.
"You have not as yet told me your name," Stephen reminded her.
"Marjorie," was the timid reply.
"Marjorie!" Then, taking advantage of her averted look, he stole secretglances at her small round face, her lips, firmly set but curvingupwards, her rose-pink cheeks. Presently, his eye rested on herfinger-ring, a cameo with what looked like an ectypal miniature of the"Ecce Homo." Was this girl of his faith?
"Marjorie Allison," he repeated again. "Do you know that sounds like aCatholic name?"
"It is," Marjorie replied proudly. "Our family have been Catholics forgenerations."
"Mine have, too," Stephen gladly volunteered the information. "IrishCatholics with a history behind them."
"Is your home here?" asked Marjorie.
"Here in this country, yes," admitted her escort. "But I live in NewYork and it was there I volunteered at the outbreak of the war, and sawmy first service in the New York campaign."
"And are your parents there, too?" inquired the girl.
And then he told her that his father and mother and only sister livedthere and that when the war broke out he determined to enlist in companywith a number of his friends, the younger men of the neighborhood. Howhe took part in the campaign about New York and his "contribution to ourdefeat," as he styled it. Of the severe winter at Valley Forge and hisappointment by Washington to his staff. She listened with keen interestbut remained silent until the end.
"And now you are in the city on detailed duty?"
"Yes. Work of a private nature for the Commander-in-chief."
"It must be a source of satisfaction to be responsive to duty," observedMarjorie.
"It is God's medicine to detach us from the things of this world. For,after all has been said and done, it is love alone which elevates one'sservice above the domain of abject slavery. In such a manner do thecommands of heaven afford the richest consolations to the soul."
"And still, a certain routine must manifest itself at times."
"Not when the habit is turned to pleasure."
"You are a philosopher, then?"
"No. Just a mere observer of men and their destinies."
"Have you included the duration of the war in your legitimateconclusions?"
"It is not over yet, and it will not terminate, I think, without animprovement in the present condition of affairs. The proposed help fromFrance must become a reality of no ordinary proportion, else thediscordant factions will achieve dire results. Tell me," he said,suddenly changing the topic of conversation, "were you in attendance atthe Mischienza?"
"No, I did not care to attend."
"I would I had been present."
"You would have been expelled in your present capacity."
"Ah, yes! But I would have affected a disguise."
"You would expect to obtain important information?" She fingered hergown of pink satin as she spoke, oblivious of everything save theinterest of the conversation.
"I might possibly have stumbled across some items of value."
"None were there save the British Officers and their Tory friends, youknow."
"A still greater reason for my desire to be present. And why did you notdance attendance?" This question was frank.
"Do you really want to know my sole reason?" She looked at him somewhatsuspicious, somewhat reliant, awaiting her womanly instinct to reveal toher the rectitude of her judgment.
"I should not have asked, otherwise," Stephen gravely replied.
"Well, it was for the simple reason that my soul would burn within me ifI permitted myself to indulge in such extravagance and gayety the whileour own poor boys were bleeding to death at Valley Forge."
Stephen grasped her hand and pressed it warmly. "You are a truepatriot," was all he could say.
Whether it was his emotion for the cause of his country or the supremesatisfaction afforded him by the knowledge that this girl was loyal tothe cause, Stephen did not know, nor did he try to discover. He knewthat he was thrilled with genuine gratification and that he was joyouslyhappy over the thought which now relieved his mind. Somehow or other heearnestly desired to find this girl an ardent patriot, yet he had darednot ask her too bluntly. From the moment she had entered the hall incompany with the other girls, he had singled her alone in the midst ofthe company. And, when the summons came to him from the Governor, he hadseen her standing at the side of the dais, and her alone. Little did hesuspect, however, that she bore his billet, nor did he presume to wishfor the pleasure of her exclusive company for the evening.
She danced with grace and was wholly without affectation. How sweet shelooked; pink gown, pink flowers, pink ribbon, pink cheeks! Howinteresting her conversation, yet so reserved and dignified! But shelived in the city and the city he knew teemed with Loyalists. Was sheone of these! He dared not ask her. To have her so declare herselfenraptured him. She was one of his own after all.
Moreover she was one with him in religious belief--that was a distinctcomfort. Catholics were not numerous, and to preserve the faith was noslight struggle. He was thoroughly conversant with the state of affairsin the province of New York where Catholics could not, because of theiniquitous law and the prescribed oath of office, become naturalized ascitizens of the state. He knew how New Jersey had excluded RomanCatholics from office, and how North and South Carolina had adopted thesame iniquitous measure. Pennsylvania was one of the few colonieswherein all penal laws directed against the Catholics had beenabsolutely swept away. To meet with a member of his own persecutedChurch, especially one so engaging and so interesting as Marjorie, was asource of keen joy and an unlooked-for happiness.
"You will not deny me the pleasure of paying my respects to your fatherand mother?" Stephen asked.
She murmured something as he let go her hand. Stephen thought she hadsaid, "I had hoped that you would come."
"Tomorrow?" he ventured.
"I shall be pleased to have you sup with us," she smiled as she made thesoft reply.
"Tomorrow then it shall be."
They rose to take their part in the next dance.
III
As the evening wore on Peggy, wearied of the dance, sought a secludedcorner of the great room to compose herself. She had been disappointedin her lottery, for she detested the thought of being a favor for aFrench officer and had taken care to so express herself at home longbefore. She could not rejoice at Marjorie's good fortune as she thoughtit, and found little of interest and less of pleasure in the evening'sdoings.
She was aroused from her solitude and made radiant on the instant atsight of the Military Governor, limping his way across the hall in herdirection. He had seen her seated alone, and his heart urged him to herside. With the lowest bow of which he was then capable, he sought thepleasure of her company. Her color heightened, she smiled graciouslywith her gray-blue eyes, and accepted his hand. He led the way to thebanquet room and thence to the balcony, where they might hear the musicand view the dancing, for his lameness made dancing impossible
.
"I hesitate to condemn a young lady to a prison seat, when the statelyminuet sends a summons," he said as he led her to a chair a little toone side of the balcony.
"You should have thought of that before you made us cast lots," shereplied quickly. "I was wearying of the rounds of pleasure."
"Is the company, then, all too gay?"
"No, rather extravagant."
"You insisted on the Mischienza ladies being present."
"And can you not distinguish them? Do they not appear to betteradvantage than the others? Their gowns are superior, they give evidenceof more usage in society, their head-dress is higher and of the latestfashion."
"And their hearts, their hopes, their sympathies! Where are they?"
"You know where mine lay," she adroitly replied.
"True, you did wear a French cockade," he laughed.
"Please do not call it 'French.' I scorn all things 'French.'"
"They are our allies now, you must know."
"For which I am most sorry. I expect no mercy from that scheming Papistcountry," she replied bitterly.
"But they have lent us much money at a time when our paper currency ispractically worthless, and the assistance of their fleet is nowmomentarily expected," the General went on to explain.
"And to what purpose? Lord North has proposed to meet our demands mostliberally and with our constitutional liberties secured, I fail to seewhy further strife is necessary."
"But our independence is not yet secure."
"It was secure after your brilliant victory at Saratoga. With thecollapse of Burgoyne, England saw that further campaigning in a countryso far removed from home was disastrous. It only remained to formulatesome mutual agreement. We have triumphed. Why not be magnanimous? Whysubject the country to a terrible strain for years for a result neitheradequate nor secure?"
She talked rapidly, passionately. It was evident from the manner of heraddress that the subject was no new one to her.
"You can be court-martialed for treason?" he remarked with a slightsmile playing about the heavy lines of his mouth.
"Is it treason to talk of the welfare of the country? I look upon thealliance with this Catholic and despotic power as more of an act oftreason than the total surrender of our armies to King George. To loseour independence is one thing; but to subject our fair land to thetyranny of the Pope and his emissary, the King of France, is a totalcollapse. Our hopes lie in England alone."
The Governor was struck by this strange reasoning. Why had this merechild dared to express the very thoughts which were of late intrudingthemselves upon his mind, but which he dared not permit to cross theseal of his lips? She was correct, he thought, in her reasoning, butbold in her denunciation. No one else had dared to address suchsentiments to him. And now he was confronted with a young lady of quickwit and ready repartee who spoke passionately the identical reflectionsof his more mature mind. Clearly her reasoning was not without someconsistency and method.
"I am afraid that you are a little Tory." He could not allow this girlto think that she had impressed him in the least.
"Because I am frank in the expression of my views?" She turned and witharched eyebrows surveyed him. "Pardon me, if you will, but I would havetaken no such liberty with any other person. You gave me that privilegewhen you forbade my alluding to your former brilliant exploits."
"But I did not want you to become a Tory."
He spoke with emphasis.
"I am not a Tory I tell you."
"But you are not a Whig?"
"What, an ordinary shop maid!"
"They are true patriots."
"But of no social standing."
"Tell me why all the Mischienza ladies courtesied to me after so courtlya fashion," he asked.
"They like it. It is part of their life. You must know that nothingpleases a woman of fashion more than to bow and courtesy before everyperson of royalty, and to count those who precede her out of a room."
"Surely, Margaret, you are no such menial?" He compressed his lips as heglanced at her sharply. He had never before called her by her first namenor presumed to take this liberty. It was more a slip of the tongue thanan act of deliberate choice, yet he would not have recalled the word.His concern lay in her manner of action.
"And why not a menial?" Evidently she took no notice of hispresumption, or at least pretended not to do so. "Piety is by no meansthe only motive which brings women to church. Position in life isprecisely what one makes it."
"Does social prestige appeal to you then?"
"I love it." She did not talk to him directly for her attention wasbeing centered upon the activities on the floor. "I think that a womanwho can dress with taste and distinction possesses riches above allcomputation. See Mrs. Reed, there. How I envy her!"
"The wife of the President of the Council?" he asked apprehensively,bending forward in the direction of the floor.
"The same. She enjoys a position of social eminence. How I hate her forit." She tapped the floor with her foot as she spoke.
"You mean that you dislike her less than you envy her position?"
Just then her young squire came up and she gave him her hand for aminuet, excusing herself to the Governor as graciously as possible.
Scarcely had she disappeared when he began to muse. What a fittingcompanion she would make for a man of his rank and dignity! That she wassocially ambitious and obsessed with a passion for display he well knew.She was not yet twenty but the disparity in their ages,--he was aboutthirty-seven and a widower with three sons,--would be offset by thedisparity of their stations. No one in the city kept a finer stable ofhorses nor gave more costly dinners than he. Everybody treated him withdeference, for no one presumed to question his social preeminence. TheWhigs admired him as their dashing and perhaps their most successfulGeneral. The Tories liked him because of his aristocratic display andhis position in regard to the Declaration of Independence. Why not makeher his bride?
She possessed physical charms and graces in a singular degree. Shedressed with taste; her wardrobe was of the finest. Aristocratic in herbearing, she would be well fitted to assume the position of the firstlady of the town. Peggy, moreover, possessed a will of her own. This wasrevealed to him more than once during their few meetings, and if proofhad been wanting, the lack was now abundantly supplied. She would makean ideal wife, and he resolved to enter the lists against all suitors.
Her mind was more mature than her years, he thought. This he gleanedfrom her animated discussion of the alliance. And there was, after all,more than an ounce of wisdom in her point of view. Mischief brewed inthe proposed help from a despotic power. His own signal victory endedthe war if only the Colonists would enter into negotiations or give anattentive ear to the liberal proposals of Lord North. The people did notdesire complete independence and he, for one, had never fully endorsedthe Declaration. Her point of view was right. Better to accept theovertures of our kinsmen than to cast our lot with that Catholic anddespotic power.
His musings were arrested by the arrival of an aide, who announced thathe was needed at headquarters. He arose at once to obey.
The Loyalist Page 3