CHAPTER IX
I
It was not until the following Wednesday night that John Anderson wasready to pay his respects to Mistress Marjorie.
He had worked on the miniature since Saturday, and had regarded hisfinished product with eminent satisfaction. He had drawn her as sheappeared to him on the night of the reception in the pose which he hadbest remembered her during the interval when she sat out the dance withhim; her head turned partly towards him, revealing her small oval facesurmounted by a wealth of brown hair, powdered to a gray; her small nosewith just a suggestion of a dilatation lending to the face an expressionof strength that the rest of the countenance only gave color to; themouth, firmly set, its lines curving upward, as it should be, toharmonize with her disposition; the eyes, a soft brown, full of candorand sincerity, delicately shadowed by slender and arched eyebrows on asmooth forehead.
Marjorie could not conceal her enthusiasm as he handed it to her. Unableto restrain her curiosity, she arose hurriedly and went to the window tobenefit by the less obscure light.
"Is--am I as pretty as that?" she exclaimed from her vantage point,without lifting her eyes from the portrait.
"Only more so," responded Anderson. "My memory poorly served me."
"Lud!" she remarked, holding it at arms length from her, "'Tis vastlyflattering. I scarce recognize myself."
She returned to her chair.
"I swear on my honor, that it fails to do you full justice."
She continued to study it, paying but little heed to his remark. It wasa water-colored portrait done on ivory of the most delicate workmanshipand design, set in a fine gold case, delicately engraved, the wholepresenting an appearance of beauty, richly colored. She turned it overand saw the letters J.A.M.A. interlaced over the triplet:
"Hours fly; flowers die; New days, new ways, Pass by. Love stays."
"It is very pretty," was her only comment.
"Hast no one told thee how well thou might appear in a ball gown?"
"I ne'er gave thought to such."
"Nor what an impression thou wouldst make at court?"
"Hast thou seen court beauties?"
She resolved to learn more about him.
"Aye! Oft have I been in their company."
"At St. James?"
"No. Much as I would have been pleased to. I know only Versailles."
So she thought he must be a French nobleman, who like Lafayette hadincurred the royal displeasure by running away from court to fit out avessel at his own expense in the hope of furthering the cause of theColonists. The great impulse given to the hopes of the disheartenedpopulation by the chivalrous exploit of the latter, the sensationproduced both by his departure from Europe and by his appearance in thiscountry, might behold a glorious repetition in the person of thisunknown visitor.
Her interest accordingly grew apace.
"It was magnanimous of His Majesty to take our cause to his heart. Wecan never fail in our gratitude."
"It is only natural for man to resist oppression. It has been writtenthat it is only the meek who should possess the land."
"An ideal which is often badly shattered by the selfish ambitions andperverse passions of godless men."
"You are a Catholic?" he asked suddenly.
"I am proud of it."
"And your fellow patriots are of the same form of worship?"
"A goodly proportion of them."
"How many might you assume?"
"I scarce know. We have no method of compiling our numbers, not even ourtotal population."
"Surely there must be a great percentage, if one considers the influxfrom France and England, not to mention Ireland, whence many fled frompersecution."
"I once heard Father Farmer say that there must be over seven thousandCatholics in Pennsylvania, while Maryland has about fifteen thousand.Whatever there remain are much scattered, except of course New York withits thousand."
"I never dreamt they were so numerous! So great is the spirit ofintolerance, that the wonder is that a single Catholic would remain inthe Colonies."
"I know it. Formerly Maryland and Pennsylvania were the two onlycolonies where Catholics were allowed to reside, and even there wereexcluded from any civil or military office. And the time has not yetarrived for complete religious freedom, though the arrival of the Frenchfleet with its Catholic army and Catholic chaplains will make afavorable impression upon our less enlightened oppressors."
"It seems strange that you should throw in your lot with a people whoprove so intolerant."
"Father Farmer, our pastor, says that no influence must ever be usedexcept for the national cause, for we must be quickened by the hope ofbetter days. He pleads with his people to remain faithful and promisesthe undivided sympathy of his fellow priests with their kinsmen in thestruggle. For these reasons I hardly think that many Catholics willdesert our cause."
"Yet you must know that it was England that bestowed the most liberalgrants to the inhabitants of the Northwest territory."
"You mean the Quebec Act?" she asked.
"Yes. And you know that Canada would be allied with you, heart and soul,were it not for the intolerant spirit of your fellow colonists."
"Perhaps it would."
"Now, would it not be better----"
"Do you mean to suggest to me that we turn traitor?" she interrupted,turning full upon him, her eyes flashing with intense feeling.
"No ... pardon ... I meant no offense.... The fact is I was onlyremarking on the sad plight of our co-religionists."
"I fail to perceive how ill we fare. Our compatriots render us honor,and as Father Farmer says, 'we may cherish the hope of better days,which are inevitable.' You must know that one of the signers of theDeclaration of Independence is a Catholic; and that the army and navyboast of a considerable quota."
"We are not ungenerous of our service, it seems."
"Rather are we proud of our efforts. We are proud of the fact that therehas been found among us not one false to his country. We point withpride to him who was privileged to first read the Declaration ofIndependence to the public. We are proud of the composition ofWashington's 'Life Guard'; and we are proud of our mutual friend, whom,perhaps, you know," and she glanced at him with a merry twinkle,"Captain Meagher, Washington's aide-de-camp."
And so they talked. Marjorie became completely absorbed in her subject,once her religion became the topic, and she almost forgot her game inregard to her visitor. She desired to appear to the best advantage,however, for which purpose she talked freely, in the hope of extractingfrom him some information concerning himself and his intents. Still,however, there was another extreme which, though apparently lessdangerous, she must be careful to avoid. The imaginations of men are ina great measure under the control of their feelings and it wasabsolutely necessary for her to refrain from imparting too muchinformation lest it might deflect from its purpose the very object shewas seeking to obtain.
There was a subtle influence about him, an adroitness of speech, aprecision of movement which, unless sufficiently safeguarded against,was insidious. He had the most wonderful way of getting one'sconfidence, not only by reason of his genial and affable disposition,but also by his apparent and deliberate sincerity. And while it was truethat she had determined upon a method which was originally intended toredound to her own advantage, she soon learned that she was playing witha boomerang which soon put her upon the defensive against the verystrategy which she had herself directly planned.
He was not sincere in his protestations of admiration; that sheperceived immediately. But she was resolved to let him think that shebelieved him in order that she might discover his true intents andpurposes. Her knowledge of human nature was sufficient to enable her toconclude that one cannot unite the incompatible elements of truth anddeception, the discernment of reality and the enjoyment of fiction forany great length of time. The reality is bound to appear.
For this reason she was not disposed to dismiss him at once but ratherto al
low him to call and see her frequently, if need be, until she hadbeen thoroughly satisfied as to his true character. Nevertheless shesensed, at this very moment, that she was playing with a skillfuladversary, one thoroughly versed in the game of diplomacy, against whomshe would be called upon to employ every manner of weapon at hercommand. She realized the weight of the foe, and thought she understoodhis tactics. So she accepted the challenge.
"You are interested in Captain Meagher?" he asked serenely.
There was a pause. Marjorie looked slightly perturbed.
"Well," she confessed, "there is this much about him. I chanced to knowthe details of the offense with which he has been charged and I amnaturally interested to learn the result of his trial."
"He may be found guilty," he quietly announced.
"Why do you say that?"
"The evidence was wholly against him."
"And there was no testimony to the effect that Colonel Forrest wassomewhat intoxicated, or that he spoke disparaging words against theCaptain's co-religionists, or that he attacked the character of theCommander-in-chief?"
"There was to some extent, but it did not seem to make any impression."
"I presume that you know the reason."
Her eyes gleamed a little.
"Why?"
There was a pause.
"The verdict has not been given. I shall be pleased to inform you of itat the earliest opportunity."
"Thank you. I shall be delighted. But let's not talk about it any more,"she added. "Let's leave it."
Mr. Anderson smiled.
II
It was perhaps an hour after dawn that Stephen awoke for about the thirdor fourth time that night; for the conflict still surged within him andwould give him no peace. And, as he lay there, awake in an instant,staring into the brightness of the morn, once more weighing themysterious disclosures of the evening, swayed by the desire for actionat one moment, overcome with sadness at the next, the thought of theimpending verdict of his trial occurred at him and made him rise veryhurriedly.
He was an early arrival at Headquarters. There had been several mattersdisposed of during the preceding day and the verdicts would be announcedtogether. The room where the court was being held was already stirringwith commotion; his judge-advocate was there, as was Colonel Forrest,Mr. Anderson, several members of the General's staff, and Mr. Allison,who had sought entry to learn the decision. Suddenly a dull solemnsilence settled over all as the members of the court filed slowly intothe room.
They took their places with their usual dignity, and began to dispose ofthe several cases in their turn. When that of Captain Meagher wasreached Stephen was ordered to appear before the court to hear hissentence.
He took his place before them with perfect calmness. He observed thatnot one of them ventured to meet his eye as he awaited their utterance.
They found that he was not justified in making the attack upon asuperior officer, notwithstanding the alleged cause for provocation, andthat he was imprudent in his action, yet because of his good character,as testified to by his superior officers, because of the mitigatingcircumstances which had been brought to light by the testimony of thewitnesses during the course of the trial and because the act had beencommitted without malice or criminal intent, he was found not guilty ofany violation of the Articles of War, but imprudent in his action, forwhich cause he had been sentenced to receive a reprimand from theMilitary Governor.
Stephen spoke not a word to any one as he made his way back to his seat.Why could they not have given him a clear verdict? Either he was guiltyor he was not guilty. He could not be misled by the sugary phrases inwhich the vote of censure had been couched. The court had been againsthim from the start.
At any rate, he thought, the reprimand would be only a matter of form.Its execution lay wholly with him who was to administer it. The courtcould not, by law, indicate its severity, nor its lenity, nor indeed addanything in regard to its execution, save to direct that it should beadministered by the commander who convened the court. And while it wasundoubtedly the general intention of the court-martial to impose a mildpunishment, yet the quality of the reprimand was left entirely to thediscretion of the authority commissioned to utter it.
When Stephen appeared before the Military Governor at the termination ofthe business of the day, he was seized with a great fury, one of thoseangers which, for a while, poison the air without obscuring the mind.There was an unkind look on the face of the Governor, which he did notlike and which indicated to him that all would not be pleasant. He bowedhis head in answer to his name.
"Captain Meagher," the Governor began. "You have been found guilty bythe Regimental Court-Martial of an action which was highly imprudent.You have been led perhaps by an infatuate zeal in behalf of those, whomyou term your co-religionists, to the committal of an offense upon theperson of your superior officer. It is because of this fact that I findit my sad duty to reprimand you severely for your misguided ardor and toadmonish you, together with the other members of your sect, of whom anunfair representation is already found in the halls of our Congress andin the ranks of our forces, lest similar outbreaks occur again. Did youbut know that this eye only lately saw the members of that same Congressat Mass for the soul of a Roman Catholic in purgatory, and participatingin the rites of a Church against whose anti-Christian corruptions yourpious ancestors would have witnessed with their blood? The army must notwitness similar outbreaks of religious zeal in the future."
He finished. Stephen left the room without a word, turned on his heeland made his way down the street.
III
Nature is a great restorer when she pours into the gaping wounds of thejaded system the oil and wine of repose. Divine grace administers thesame narcotic to the soul crushed by torture and anguish. It is thenthat tears are dried, and that afflictions and crosses become sweet.
Desolation, a very lonely desolation, and a deep sense of helplessnessfilled the soul of Stephen as he retraced his steps from the court room.His life seemed a great burden to him, his hopes swallowed up in hisbereavement. If he could but remove his mind from his travail ofdisappointments and bitterness, if his soul could only soar aloft inprayer to the realms of bliss and repose, he might endure this bitterhumiliation. He felt the great need of prayer, humble, submissiveprayer. Oh! If he could only pray!
He was invisibly directed into the little doorway of St. Joseph's. Hisfeeling was like that of the storm tossed mariner as he securely steersfor the beacon light. The church was nearly empty, save for a barehalf-dozen people who occupied seats at various intervals. They werealone in their contemplation, as Catholics are wont to be, before theirGod, without beads or prayer-book, intent only upon the Divine Personconcealed within the tabernacle walls, and announced by the flickeringred flame in the little lamp before the altar. Here he felt himselfremoved from the world and its affairs, as if enclosed in a strangeparenthesis, set off from all other considerations. And straightway, hissoul was carried off into a calm, pure, lofty region of consolation andrepose.
To the human soul, prayer is like the beams of light which seem toconnect sun and earth. It raises the soul aloft and transports it toanother and a better world. There basking in the light of the divinepresence it is strengthened to meet the impending conflict. Nothingescapes the all-seeing eye of God. He only waits for the prayer of hischildren eager to grant their requests. Nothing is denied to faith andlove. Neither can measure be set to the divine bounty.
"Miserere mei, Deus; secundum magnam misericordiam tuam."--"Have mercyon me, O God, according to Thy great mercy."
Stephen buried his face in his hands, in an agony of conflict.
The tone of the Military Governor's reprimand had left no room forspeculation as to his true intents and purposes. Whatever rebuke hadbeen administered to him was intended for the Catholic population,otherwise there was no earthly reason for holding up to reprobation theconduct of the body governing the republic. The mere fact that theGovernor despised the Congress was an unwo
rthy as well as aninsufficient motive for the base attack.
The humiliated soldier felt incapable of bearing the insult withoutmurmuring, yet he chose to accept it with perfect resignation andsubmission. For a time he had fought against it. But in the church hefelt seized by an invisible force. On a sudden this invisible tensionseemed to dissolve like a gray mist, hovering over a lake, and began togive place to a solemn and tender sweetness.
"Miserere mei Deus."
He sought refuge in the arms of God, crying aloud to Him for His mercy.He would give his soul up to prayer and commit his troubled spirit intothe hands of his intercessors before the throne of Heaven.
"Accept my punishments for the soul who is about to be released."
To the souls in Purgatory, then, he poured forth the bitterness of hisheart, offering in their behalf through the intercession of the VirginMary, the cross which had been imposed upon him. The injustice of histrial which he knew, or thought he knew, had been tempered by the spiritof intolerance, was brought home to him now in full vigor by theseverity of his reprimand. He did not deserve it, no--he could not forcehimself to believe that he did. Still he accepted it generously thoughpainfully, in behalf of the sufferings of his friends.
He besought them to pray for him, that he might the more worthily endurehis cross. He prayed for his tormentors that they might be not heldculpable for their error. He entrusted himself entirely into the handsof his departed ones and renewed with a greater fervor his act ofconsecration.
"I beseech Thee, O my God, to accept and confirm this offering for Thyhonor and the salvation of my soul. Amen."
He arose from his pew, made a genuflection before the BlessedSacrament, pronouncing as he did, "My Lord and My God," crossed himselfwith the holy water, and left the church.
IV
In the meantime an event of rare importance had occurred in the gardenof the Shippen home. There, in the recesses of the tulips shelteredbehind the clustering hydrangeas, Peggy accepted the fervent suit of theMilitary Governor and gave him her promise to become his bride. A fewdays later the world was informed of the betrothal and nodded its headin astonishment, and opening its lips, sought relief in many words.
The wheels of destiny began to turn.
PART TWO
The Loyalist Page 9