The Loyalist

by James Francis Barrett

  CHAPTER VI

  I

  The morrow was one of those rare days when all nature seems to inviteone to go forth and enjoy the good things within her keeping. Thesunrise was menacing; unless the wind shifted before noon it would beuncomfortably warm. Still, the air was bracing and fragrant with thesoft perfume distilled by the pines.

  Stephen felt in tune with nature as he made his early morning toilet. Hegazed the while into the garden from his widely opened window, andresponded instinctively to the call of the countryside. The disagreeableepisode of the preceding day had left unpleasant recollections in hismind which disconcerted him not a little during his waking hours, thetime when the stream of consciousness begins to flow with anunrestrained rapidity, starting with the more impressive memories of thenight before. He did not repent his action; he might have repeated theperformance under similar circumstances, yet he chided himself for hislack of reserve and composure and his great want of respect to asuperior officer.

  He was early mounted and on his way, striking off in the direction ofthe Germantown Road. He had left word with his landlady of his intendeddestination, with the added remark that he would be back in a shorttime, a couple of hours at the most, and that he would attend to thebusiness of the day upon his return. What that might amount to he hadno idea at all, being preoccupied entirely with what he had to do in theimmediate present, for he made it a point never to permit the moreserious affairs of life to intrude upon his moments of relaxation.

  He was a pleasant figure to look upon; smooth-faced and athletic, wellmounted and dressed with great preciseness. On his well shaped hands hewore leathern gauntlets; he was in his uniform of buff and blue; beneathhis coat he had his steel-buckled belt with his holster and pistol init; he wore his cocked hat with a buff cockade affixed, the insignia ofhis rank in the service.

  The road lay in the direction of Marjorie's house. Perhaps he chose toride along this way in order that he might be obliged to pass her door,and then again, perhaps, that was but of secondary import. This was notime for analysis, and so he refused to study his motives. He did knowthat he had not seen her for a long time, the longest time it seemed,and that he had had no word from her since their last meeting, save theintelligence received from her father yesterday in response to hisrepeated inquiries concerning her welfare and that of her mother.

  "Let us turn up here, Dolly, old girl." He leaned forward a little topat the mare's neck affectionately as he spoke; while at the same timehe pulled the right rein slightly, turning her head in the directionindicated. "And, if we are fortunate, we shall catch a glimpse of her."

  Dolly raised her ears very erect and opened full her nostrils as if tocatch some possible scent of her, of whom he spoke. She pierced thedistance with her eyes, but saw no one and so settled herself into aneasy canter, for she knew it to be more to her rider's advantage toproceed at a slowing pace until they had passed the house in question.

  "You are an intelligent old girl, Dolly, but I must not let you too farinto the secrets of my mind. Still, you have shared my delights and woesalike and have been my one faithful friend. Why should I not tell you?"

  And yet they had been friends for no great length of time. It was atValley Forge they had met, shortly after Stephen's appointment toGeneral Washington's staff. As an aide he was required to be mounted andit was by a piece of good fortune that he had been allowed to choosefrom several the chestnut mare that now bore him. He had given her thebest of care and affection and she reciprocated in as intelligent amanner as she knew how.

  "You have served well, but I feel that there is much greater work beforeus, much greater than our quest of the present."

  They were nearing the house. For some reason or other, Dolly whinnied ashe spoke, probably in acquiescence to his thought, probably inrecognition of the presence of her rival. She might have seen, had shecared to turn her head, a trim, lithe form passing to the rear of thehouse. Stephen took pains to see her, however, and, as she turned herhead, doffed his hat in salute. The next moment Dolly felt the reinstighten, and, whether she desired it or not, found her head turned inthat direction. Her rider was soon dismounted and was leading her to theside of the road.

  "You are early astir, Mistress Marjorie. I had anticipated no suchpleasure this morning."

  "It is indeed mutual," replied Marjorie, smiling as she offered him herhand. "How came you so early? No new turn of events, I hope!"

  "Not in the least. I desired a few hours in the saddle before the heatof the day set in, and my guardian angel must have directed me alongthis path."

  Dolly raised both her ears and turned towards him, while she noisilybrought her hoof down upon the sod.

  "What a rascal!" she thought to herself.

  The girl dropped her eyes demurely and then asked hurriedly:

  "There are no new developments?"

  "None that I know of."

  "Nothing came of the trouble at the Inn?"

  "Then you know?"

  "All. Father told me."

  "He should not have told you."

  "It was my doing. I gave him no peace until I had learned all."

  Dolly grew weary of this pleasantry and wandered away to gladden herlips on the choice morsels of the tender grass.

  "I deeply regret my indiscretion, though it was for his sake."

  "You mean----?"

  "His Excellency."

  "I might have done likewise, were I able. Colonel Forrest is mostdisagreeable."

  "He was not wholly culpable and so I forgave his insulting remarksagainst us, but I forgot myself entirely when General Washington's namewas besmirched."

  "I fear further trouble," she sighed.

  "From him?"

  She nodded her head.

  "Nonsense! There will be naught said about the whole affair and it willend where it began. Forrest is no fool."

  "I have other news for you, Captain," announced Marjorie, her eyesbeaming at the prospect.

  "And how long have you been preserving it for me?" asked Stephen.

  "But a few days."

  "And you made no attempt to see me?"

  "Had I not met you now, I would have done so this day," answeredMarjorie.

  "You would have written?"

  "Perhaps."

  "It is my forfeiture to your reserve."

  "And made gallantly."

  "Come now! What had you to tell?"

  "This. Peggy desires the honor of your company. You will receive theinvitation in a day or two. Just an informal affair, yet I sensed thepossibility of your pleasure."

  "You did right. I am pleased as I am honored, but neither so much as Iam elated at the hopes for the future. Of course, I shall accept, butyou will have to promise to denote my path for me in the tangled maze ofsociety, in whose company I am as yet merely a novice."

  "Lud! I ne'er heard one so illiberal of his graces."

  "Nor one more candid," Stephen rejoined as quickly. If he were good atrepartee he had met with one who was equally as apt.

  "You know the Governor will be in attendance," she declared in amatter-of-fact manner.

  "How should I know that? Is it unusual for him to frequent the companyof the gay?"

  "Not of late, the more especially where the presence of Peggy isconcerned," added the little tale-bearer with a keen though recklesswit.

  "And why Peggy?" He was innocent enough in his question.

  "Have you not heard of His Excellency's courting? Mr. Shippen hasalready made public the rumor that a certain great General is layingclose siege to the heart of Peggy. And I have Peggy's own word for it."

  "To Peggy?" He asked with evident surprise. "Why, she but halves hisage, and he is already a widower."

  "With three sons," Marjorie gayly added. "No matter. Peggy will meet thedisparity of ages by the disparity of stations. She has avowed to methat no one dares to question the social preeminence of the MilitaryGovernor, nor the fact that he is the most dashing and perhaps mostsuccessful general of the Contine
ntal Army. Position in life is of primeimportance to her."

  "Is that so? I had not so judged her," was the comment.

  "She admits that herself, and makes no secret of it before any one. Didyou not observe her sullen silence at the Ball upon learning of theidentity of her inferior partner? And that she sat out the major portionof the dance in company with the Military Governor?"

  "It escaped my attention, for I was too deeply concerned with anothermatter which distracted me for the entire evening," he answered with asmile.

  She pretended to take no notice, however, and continued.

  "Well, he has been calling regularly since that evening, and this quietand informal function has been arranged primarily in his honor, althoughit will not be announced as such. You will go?" she asked.

  "I shall be pleased to accept her invitation. May I accompany you?"

  "Thank you. I almost hoped you would say that. Men folks are so sadlywanting in intuition."

  "Friday, then? Adieu! The pleasure that awaits me is immeasurable."

  "Until Friday."

  She extended to him her hand, which he pressed. A moment later he wasmounted.

  "My kindest to your mother. She will understand." Dolly broke into agallop.

  II

  Marjorie stood at the gate post until he was quite lost from view aroundthe turn of the road. He did not look back, yet she thought that hemight have. She slowly turned and as slowly began to walk towards thehouse, there to resume the duties which had suffered a pleasantinterruption.

  Meanwhile, she tried to analyze this young man. He was rather deep, offew words on any given subject, but wholly non-communicative as regardshimself. He perhaps was possessed of more intuition than his mannerwould reveal, although he gave every appearance of arriving at hisconclusions by the sheer force of logic. His words and deeds neverbetrayed his whole mind, of that she was certain, yet he could asserthimself rather forcibly when put to the test, as in the painful incidentat the Coffee House. He would never suffer from soul-paralysis, thoughtshe, for want of decision or resolution, for both were written fullupon him.

  That she was strangely attracted to him she knew very well, but why andhow she was unable to discover. This was but their third meeting, yetshe felt as if she had known him all her life, so frank, so unreserved,so open, so secure did she feel in his presence. It seemed the mostnatural thing in the world for her to have waved her hand in salute tohim that morning as he passed; she did it with the same unconcern as ifshe had known him all her life. She felt it within her, that was all,and could give no other possible interpretation to her action.

  There was something prepossessing about him. Perhaps it was his facultyfor doing the unexpected. Most women desire to meet a man who ispossessed of a distinctive individuality, who lends continual interestto them by his departure from the trite and commonplace. What Stephenmight say or do was an entirely unknown quantity until it had actuallytaken place, and this attracted her on the instant, whether she wasconscious of it or not. His manner, too, was affable, and gave him anair at once pleasing and good-natured. He never flattered, yet said mostagreeable things, putting one perfectly at ease and inspiring sympathyand courage. He bore himself well; erect, manly, dignified, withoutostentation or display. His seriousness, his evenness, his gravity, hisconstancy and his decision stamped him with a certain authority, a manof marked personality and character.

  So she mused as she entered the door, her thoughts in a lofty hegira tothe far off land of make believe--her better self striving to marshalthem to the cold realities of duty that lay before her. She had beencleaning the little addition at the rear of the dwelling proper, used asa kitchen, and her work took her into the yard. Dolly's whinny hadcaused her to turn her head, and the next moment cares andresponsibilities and all else were forgotten. Now she wondered what shehad been about! Seizing a cloth she began to dust industriously. Thecrash of one of the dishes on the kitchen floor brought her to hersenses. Her mother heard the noise from the adjoining room.

  "What ails thee, child? Hast thou lost thy reason?"

  "I believe so, mommy. I must have been thinking of other things." Andshe stooped to gather the fragments.

  "Was it Captain Meagher? I saw you two at the gate."

  A guilty smile stole over the corners of her mouth.

  "He was passing while I was in the yard, and he stopped only to wish methe greetings of the day. I was right glad that he did, for I had anopportunity of extending to him the invitation from Peggy."

  "He will go, I suppose?" she queried, knowing well what the answer mightbe. She did not spare the time to stop for conversation, but continuedwith her duties.

  "He is quite pleased. And, mommy, he will call for me."

  "Be careful, now, to break no more dishes."

  "Lud! I have not lost my head yet. That was purely an accident whichwill not happen again."

  "That poor unfortunate Spangler made a better defense."

  "He deserved what he got. So did Lieutenant Lyons and the other officersof the Ranger who deserted to the enemy. But my sympathies go out to theold man who kept the gates under the city. These court-martials arebecoming too common and I don't like them."

  "That is the horrible side of war, my dear. And until our people learnthe value of patriotism, the need of abolishing all foreign ties andstrongly adhering to the land that has offered them a home and a living,the necessity of these dreadful measures will never cease."

  "A little power is a dangerous weapon to thrust into a man's hand,unless he be great enough to wield it."

  "Now you are going to say that General Arnold is to blame for thesetragedies."

  "No, I am not. But I do think that a great deal more of clemency couldbe exercised. Many of those poor tradesmen who were convicted andsentenced to be hanged could have been pardoned with equal security."

  "That is the law, my dear, and the law is God's will. Leave all to Him."

  Mrs. Allison was one of those good souls who saw no harm in the vilestof creatures; faults were hidden by her veil of sympathy. Whendistressing reverses or abject despair visited any one, Mrs. Allison'saffability and indescribable tenderness smoothed over the troubledsituation and brought forth a gleam of gladness. Quiet, kindly,magnanimous, tolerant, she could touch hearts to the depths in a mannerboth winning and lasting. Whether the fault entailed a punishmentundeserved or inevitable, her feeling of pity was excited. She alwayssympathized without accusing or probing the source of the evil. Shestretched forth a helping hand merely to aid. No nature, however hard,could be impervious to the sympathy and the sweetness of heraffectionate disposition.

  Motherly was the quality written full upon Mrs. Allison's face. Herthoughts, her schemes, her purposes, her ambitions of life, were allcolored by this maternal attribute. In her daily homage and obeisance toGod, Whom she worshiped with the most childlike faith and simplicity; inthe execution of the manifold duties of her home, Marjorie was to herever a treasure of great price. She was sustained in her aims andpurposes by an enduring power of will,--a power clothed with the soft,warm, living flesh of a kindly heart.

  Her marriage with Matthew Allison had been happy, a happinessintensified and concretely embodied in Marjorie, the only childvouchsafed to them by the Creator. How often, at the time when thedeepening shadows moved their way across the dimming landscape,announcing to the work worn world the close of another day, would shesit for a brief while in silence and take complacence in the object ofher hopes and aspirations! It was Marjorie for whom she lived and toiledand purposed. And it was Marjorie who embodied the sum-total of herfancies and ambitions and aspirations, and translated them into definiteforms and realities.

  III

  A beautiful landscape unrolled itself before Stephen as he leisurelyrode along the Germantown road. The midsummer sun was now high in theheavens, with just a little stir in the air to temper its warmth andoppressiveness. Fragments of clouds, which seemed to have tornthemselves loose from some great heap massed beyond the ridge
of lowhills to the westward, drifted lazily across the waste of blue sky,wholly unconcerned as to their ultimate lot or destination. Breaths ofsweet odor, from freshly cut hay or the hidden foliage bounding theroad, were wafted along in the embraces of the gentle breeze. Away tothe left and before him, as his horse cantered along, swelled thecountryside in gentle undulations of green and brown, disfigured now andagain by irregular patches of field and orchard yielding to cultivation;while to the side a stone wall humped itself along the winding road intothe distance, its uniformity of contour broken here and there by atrellis work of yellow jasmine or crimson rambler, alternatelyreflecting lights and shadows from the passing clouds and sunshine. Itwas a day when all nature was in perfect tune, its harmony sweetlyblending with the notes of gladness that throbbed in Stephen's heart.Yet he was scarce aware of it all, so completely absorbed was he in theconfusion of his own thought.

  Stephen had a very clear idea of what he was to do in the immediatepresent, but he had no idea at all of what was to be done in theimmediate future. First of all he would attend Mistress Marjorie at thisinformal affair, where, perhaps, he might learn more about the MilitaryGovernor. He half surmised that His Excellency was not kindly disposedtowards Catholics in general, although he could not remember anyconcrete case in particular to substantiate his claim. Still he knewthat he was avowedly opposed to the French Alliance, as were manyillustrious citizens; and he presumed his feelings were due in part atleast to the fact that France was a recognized Catholic country. Therewas a negative argument, too: no Catholic name was ever found among hisappointments. These were but surmises, not evidence upon which to baseeven a suspicion. Nevertheless, they were worthy of some considerationuntil a conclusion of a more definite nature was warranted.

  That the Governor was becoming decidedly more unpopular every day andthat this unpopularity was quite consequential, more consequential ifanything than preconceived,--for it cannot be gainsaid that many hadfrowned upon his appointment from the very beginning,--Meagher knew verywell. Unfavorable comparisons already had been drawn between the gayetyof life under a free country and that of a colonial government. The factthat Arnold possessed the finest stable of horses in the city, andentertained at the most costly of dinners, at a time when the manner ofliving was extremely frugal, not so much from choice as from necessity,and at a time when the value of the Continental currency had depreciatedto almost nothing, occasioned a host of acrid criticisms not only in theminds of the displeased populace, but also in the less friendly columnsof the daily press.

  Censures of the harshest nature were continually uttered against theGovernor's conduct of the affairs of the city government together withhis earlier order closing the shops. Now, the use that he began to makeof the government wagons in moving the stores excited further complaintsof a more public nature, the more so that no particular distinction wasbeing made as to whether the stores belonged to the Whigs or theoffending Tories. It was no idle gossip that he curried favor with theupper Tory class of the city, now particular mention was made of hisinfatuation with the daughter of Edward Shippen. It was whispered, too,that the misuse of his authority in the grant of safe passes to and fromNew York had led to the present act of the Congress in recalling allpasses. Stephen knew all this and he logically surmised more; so helonged for the opportunity to study intimately this man now occupyingthe highest military post in the city and the state.

  For the present he would return home and bide his time until Fridayevening when he would have the happiness of escorting Marjorie to thehome of Peggy Shippen.

  "I wonder, Dolly, old girl, if I can make myself bold enough to call her'Marjorie.' 'Marjorie,' Margaret,'" he repeated them over to himself. "Idon't know which is the prettier. She would be a pearl among women, andshe is, isn't she, Dolly?"

  He would ask her at any rate. He would be her partner for the evening,would dance with her, and would sit by her side. Peggy would be there,too, and the General. He would observe them closely, and perchance,converse with them. Colonel Forrest and the General's activeaide-de-camp, Major Franks, a Philadelphian, and a Jew would also bepresent. Altogether the evening promised to be interesting as well ashappy.

  He was musing in this manner when he heard the hoof beats of a horse,heavily ridden, gaining upon him in the rear. He drew up and half turnedinstinctively at the strange yet familiar sound. Suddenly there hoveinto view at the bend of the road an officer of the Continental Army, infull uniform, booted and spurred, whose appearance caused him to turnfull about to await him. It was not long before he recognized thefamiliar figure of the aide, Major Franks, and he lifted his arm tosalute.

  "Captain Meagher, I have orders for your arrest."

  "Sir?" answered Stephen in alarm.

  "On charges preferred by Colonel Forrest. You are to come with me atonce."

  An embarrassing silence ensued.

  Stephen then saluted, and handed over his side arms. He wheeled hishorse and set off in the direction indicated, his thoughts in a turmoil.

  The Major fell in at the rear.