James Fenimore Cooper's Five Novels

by James Fenimore Cooper

  “Archibald!” he exclaimed, “why, in the name of justice did you bring this miscreant to light again? His deeds are rank to heaven!”

  The surgeon, who had been in imminent peril, was too much bewildered to reply instantly, but wiping the moisture from his forehead, and clearing his lungs from the vapour he had inhaled, he said, piteously—

  “Ah! it is all over! Had I been in time to have stopped the effusion from the jugular, he might have been saved; but the heat was conducive to hemorrhage; life is extinct indeed. Well, are there any more wounded?”

  His question was put to the air, for Frances had been removed to the opposite side of the building, where her friends were collected, and Lawton once more had disappeared in the smoke.

  By this time the flames had dispersed much of the suffocating vapor, so that the trooper was able to find the door, and in its very entrance he was met by a man supporting the insensible Sarah. There was but barely time to reach the lawn again before the fire broke through the windows, and wrapped the whole building in a sheet of flame.

  “God be praised,” ejaculated the preserver of Sarah: “It would have been a dreadful death to have died!”

  The trooper turned from gazing at the edifice, to the speaker, and, to his astonishment, instead of one of his own men, he beheld the pedlar.

  “Ha! the spy!” he exclaimed. “By heavens, you cross me like a spectre.”

  “Capt. Lawton,” said Birch, leaning in momentary exhaustion against the fence, to which they had retired from the heat, “I am again in your power, for I can neither flee, nor resist.”

  “The cause of America is dear to me as life,” said the trooper; “but she cannot require her children to forget gratitude and honour. Fly, unhappy man, while yet you are unseen, or it will exceed my power to save you.”

  “May God prosper you, and make you victorious over your enemies,” said Birch, grasping the hand of the dragoon with an iron strength, that his meagre figure did not indicate.

  “Hold!” said Lawton; “but a word—are you what you seem?—can you—are you—”

  “A royal spy,” interrupted Birch, averting his face, and endeavouring to release his hand.

  “Then go, miserable wretch,” said the trooper, relinquishing his grasp; “either avarice, or delusion has led a noble heart astray!”

  The bright light from the flames reached a great distance around the ruins, but the words were hardly passed the lips of Lawton, before the gaunt form of the pedlar had glided over the visible space and plunged into the darkness beyond.

  The eye of Lawton rested for a moment on the spot where he had last seen this inexplicable man, and then turning to the yet insensible Sarah, he lifted her in his arms, and bore her like a sleeping infant to the care of her friends.

  * The paper money issued by congress was familiarly called Continental money. This term “continental” was applied to the army, the Congress, the ships of war, and, in short to almost every thing of interest which belonged to the new government. It would seem to have been invented as the opposite of the insular position of the Mother Country.

  Chapter XXIII

  “And now her charms are fading fast,

  Her spirits now no more are gay;

  Alas! that beauty cannot last!

  That flowers so sweet so soon decay!

  How sad appears

  The vale of years,

  How chang’d from youth’s too flattering scene!

  Where are her fond admirers gone?

  Alas! and shall there then be none

  On whom her soul may lean?”

  Cynthia’s Grave.

  * * *

  THE WALLS of the cottage were all that was left of the building, and these, blackened by smoke and stripped of their piazzas and ornaments, were but dreary memorials of the content and security that had so lately reigned within. The roof, together with the rest of the wood-work, had tumbled into the cellars, and a pale and flitting light ascending from their embers, shone faintly through the windows. The early flight of the Skinners left the dragoons at liberty to exert themselves in saving much of the furniture, which lay scattered in heaps on the lawn, giving the finishing touch of desolation to the scene. Whenever a stronger ray of light than common shot upwards, the composed figures of Sergeant Hollister and his associates, sitting on their horses in rigid discipline, were to be seen in the back ground of the picture, together with the beast of Mrs. Flanagan, which having slipt its bridle, was quietly grazing by the highway. Betty herself had advanced to the spot where the sergeant was posted, and with an incredible degree of composure, witnessed the whole of the events as they occurred. More than once she suggested to her companion that, as the fighting seemed to be over, the proper time for plunder had arrived, but the veteran acquainted her with his orders, and remained both inflexible and immoveable; until the washerwoman observing Lawton come round the wing of the building with Sarah, ventured amongst the warriors. The captain, after placing Sarah on a sofa that had been hurled from the building by two of his men, retired, that the ladies might succeed him in his care. Miss Peyton and her niece flew, with a rapture that was blessed with a momentary forgetfulness of all but her preservation, to receive Sarah from the trooper, but the vacant eye and flushed cheek, restored them instantly to their recollection.

  “Sarah, my child, my beloved niece!” said the former, folding the unconscious bride in her arms, “you are saved, and may the blessing of God await him who has been the instrument.”

  “See,” said Sarah, gently pushing her aunt aside, and pointing to the glimmering ruins, “the windows are illuminated in honour of my arrival. They always receive a bride thus—he told me they would do no less; listen, and you will hear the bells.”

  “Here is no bride, no rejoicing, nothing but woe,” cried Frances, in a manner but little less frantic than that of her sister; “Oh! may heaven restore you, to us—to yourself.”

  “Peace, foolish young woman,” said Sarah, with a smile of affected pity, “all cannot be happy at the same moment; perhaps you have no brother, or husband to console you; you look beautiful, and will yet find one, but,” she continued, dropping her voice to a whisper, “see that he has no other wife—’tis dreadful to think what might happen should he be twice married.”

  “The shock has destroyed her mind,” cried Miss Peyton, “my child, my beauteous Sarah is a maniac!”

  “No, no, no,” cried Frances, “it is fever—she is light-headed—she must recover—she shall recover.”

  The aunt caught joyfully at the hope conveyed in this suggestion, and despatched Katy to request the immediate aid and advice of Dr. Sitgreaves. The surgeon was found enquiring among the men for professional employment, and inquisitively examining every bruise and scratch that he could induce the sturdy warriors to acknowledge they had received. A summons, of the sort conveyed by Katy, was instantly obeyed, and not a minute elapsed before he was by the side of Miss Peyton.

  “This is a melancholy termination to so joyful a commencement of the night, Madam,” he observed, in a soothing manner; “but war must bring its attendant miseries; though doubtless it often supports the cause of liberty, and improves the knowledge of surgical science.”

  Miss Peyton could make no reply, but pointed to her niece, in agony.

  “’Tis fever,” answered Frances, “see how glassy is her eye, and look at her cheek, how flushed!”

  The surgeon stood for a moment, deeply studying the outward symptoms of his patient, and then he silently took her hand in his own. It was seldom that the hard and abstracted features of Sitgreaves discovered any violent emotion; all his passions seemed schooled, and his countenance did not often betray what indeed his heart frequently felt. In the present instance, however, the eager gaze of the aunt and sister quickly detected his emotions. After laying his fingers for a minute on the beautiful arm, which, bared to the elbow,
and glittering with jewels, Sarah suffered him to retain, he dropped it, and dashing a hand over his eyes, turned sorrowfully away—

  “Here is no fever to excite—’tis a case, my dear madam, for time and care only; these, with the blessing of God, may effect a cure.”

  “And where is the wretch who has caused this ruin,” exclaimed Singleton, rejecting the support of his man, and making an effort to rise from the chair to which he had been driven by debility. “It is in vain that we overcome our enemies, if conquered they can inflict such wounds as this.”

  “Dos’t think foolish boy,” said Lawton with a bitter smile, “that hearts can feel in a colony? What is America but a satellite of England—to move as she moves, follow where she wists, and shine that the mother country may become more splendid by her radiance. Surely you forget that it is honour enough for a colonist to receive ruin from the hand of a child of Britain.”

  “I forget not that I wear a sword,” said Singleton, falling back exhausted; “but was there no willing arm ready to avenge that lovely sufferer—to appease the wrongs of this hoary father.”

  “Neither arms, nor hearts are wanting, sir, in such a cause; but chance oftentimes helps the wicked. By heavens, I’d give Roanoke himself, for a clear field with the miscreant!”

  “Nay! captain dear, no be parting with the horse, any way,” said Betty, bustling up to his side; “it is no trifle that can be had by jist asking of the right person, if yee’re in need of silver, and the baste is sure of foot and jumps like a squirrel.”

  “Woman! fifty horses, ay, the best that were ever reared on the banks of the Potomac, would be but a paltry price, for one blow at a villain.”

  “Come,” said the surgeon, “the night air can do no service to George, or these ladies, and it is incumbent on us to remove them where they can find surgical attendance and refreshment. Here is nothing but smoking ruins and the miasma of the swamps.”

  To this rational proposition, no objection could be raised, and the necessary orders were issued by Lawton to remove the whole party to the Four Corners.

  America furnished but few and very indifferent carriage makers at the period of which we write, and every vehicle that in the least aspired to that dignity, was the manufacture of a London mechanic. When Mr. Wharton left the city, he was one of the very few who maintained the state of a carriage, and, at the time Miss Peyton and his daughters joined him in his retirement, they had been conveyed to the cottage in the heavy chariot that had once so imposingly rolled through the windings of Queen Street, or emerged with sombre dignity, into the more spacious drive of Broadway. This vehicle stood undisturbed where it had been placed on its arrival, and the age of the horses alone had protected the favourites of Caesar from sequestration, by the contending forces in their neighbourhood. With a heavy heart the black, assisted by a few of the dragoons, proceeded to prepare it for the reception of the ladies. It was a cumbrous vehicle, whose faded linings and tarnished hammercloths, together with its pannels of changing colour, denoted the want of that art which had once given it lustre and beauty. The “lion couchant” of the Wharton arms, was reposing on the reviving splendour of a blazonry that told the armorial bearings of a prince of the church, and the mitre that already began to shine through its American mask, was a symbol of the rank of its original owner. The chaise which conveyed Miss Singleton was also safe, for the stables and outbuildings had entirely escaped the flames; it certainly had been no part of the plan of the marauders to leave so well appointed a stud behind them, but the suddenness of the attack by Lawton, not only disconcerted their arrangement on this point, but on many others also. A guard was left on the ground under the command of Hollister, who having discovered that his enemy was of mortal mould, took his position with admirable coolness and no little skill, to guard against surprise. He drew off his small party to such a distance from the ruins, that it was effectually concealed in the darkness, while at the same time the light continued sufficiently powerful to discover any one, who might approach the lawn with an intent to plunder.

  Satisfied with this judicious arrangement, Capt. Lawton made his dispositions for the march: Miss Peyton, her two nieces and Isabella, were placed in the chariot, while the cart of Mrs. Flanagan amply supplied with blankets and a bed, was honoured with the person of Capt. Singleton. Dr. Sitgreaves took charge of the chaise and Mr. Wharton. What became of the rest of the family, during that eventful night, is unknown; for Caesar, alone, of the domestics, was to be found, if we except the house keeper. Having disposed of the whole party in this manner, Lawton gave the word to march. He remained himself, for a few minutes alone, on the lawn, secreting various pieces of plate and other valuables, that he was fearful might tempt the cupidity of his own men; when perceiving nothing more that he conceived likely to overcome their honesty, he threw himself into the saddle, with the soldierly intention of bringing up the rear.

  “Stop, stop,” cried a female voice, “will you leave me alone to be murdered; the spoon is melted I believe, and I’ll have compinsation if there’s law, or justice in this unhappy land.”

  Lawton turned an eye in the direction of the sound, and perceived a female emerging from the ruins, loaded with a bundle, that vied in size with the renowned pack of the pedlar.

  “Who have we here?” said the trooper, “rising like a phoenix from the flames! oh! by the soul of Hippocrates, but it is the identical she-doctor of famous needle reputation. Well, good woman, what means this outcry?”

  “Outcry!” echoed Katy, panting for breath; “is it not disparagement enough to lose a silver spoon, but I must be left alone in this lonesome place to be robbed, and perhaps murdered? Harvey would not serve me so; when I lived with Harvey, I was always treated with respect at least, if he was a little close with his secrets, and wasteful of his money.”

  “Then, Madam, you once formed part of the household of Mr. Harvey Birch?”

  “You may say I was the whole of his household,” returned the other; “there was nobody but I and he, and the old gentleman; you did’nt know the old gentleman, perhaps?”

  “That happiness was denied me; how long did you live in the family of Mr. Birch?”

  “I disremember the precise time; but it must have been hard on upon nine years, and what better am I, for it all?”

  “Sure enough; I can see but little benefit that you have derived from the association truly. But is there not something unusual in the movements and character of this Mr. Birch?”

  “Unusual is an easy word for such unaccountables!” replied Katy, lowering her voice and looking around her; “he was a wonderful disregardful man, and minded a guinea no more than I do a kernal of corn. But help me to some way of joining Miss Jinitt, and I will tell you prodigies of what Harvey has done first and last.”

  “You will!” exclaimed the trooper, musing, “here, give me leave to feel your arm above the elbow—there—you are not deficient in bone, let the blood be as it may.” So saying he gave the spinster a sudden whirl that effectually confused all her faculties, until she found herself safely if not comfortably seated on the crupper of Lawton’s steed.

  “Now, Madam, you have the consolation of knowing that you are as well mounted as Washington. The nag is sure of foot, and will leap like a panther.”

  “Let me get down,” cried Katy, struggling to release herself from his iron grasp, and yet afraid of falling; “this is no way to put a woman on a horse, besides I can’t ride without a pillion.”

  “Softly, good madam,” said Lawton; “for although Roanoke never falls before, he sometimes rises behind. He is far from being accustomed to a pair of heels beating upon his flanks like a drum-major on a field day—a single touch of the spur will serve him for a fortnight, and it is by no means wise to be kicking in this manner, for he is a horse that but little likes to be outdone.”

  “Let me down, I say,” screamed Katy, “I shall fall and be killed. Besides, I have not
hing to hold on with, my arms are full of valuables.”

  “True,” returned the trooper, observing that he had brought bundle and all from the ground, “I perceive that you belong to the baggage guard; but my sword-belt will encircle your little waist, as well as my own.”

  Katy was too much pleased with this compliment to make any resistance, while he buckled her close to his own Herculean frame, and driving a spur into his charger they flew from the lawn with a rapidity that defied further denial. After proceeding for some time, at a rate that a good deal discomposed the spinster, they overtook the cart of the washerwoman driving slowly over the stones, with a proper consideration for the wounds of Capt. Singleton. The occurrences of that eventful night had produced an excitement in the young soldier, that was followed by the ordinary lassitude of re-action, and he lay carefully enveloped in blankets, and supported by his man, but little able to converse, though deeply brooding over the past. The dialogue between Lawton and his companion, ceased with the commencement of their motions, but a foot pace being more favourable to speech, the trooper began anew—

  “Then you have been an inmate in the same house with Harvey Birch?”

  “For more than nine years,” said Katy, drawing her breath, and rejoicing greatly that their speed was abated.

  The deep tones of the trooper’s voice, were no sooner convey’d to the ears of the washerwoman, than, turning her head, where she sat directing the movements of the mare, she put into the discourse at the first pause—

  “Belike then, good woman, yee’r knowing whether or no he’s a-kin to Beelzeboob,” said Betty; “it’s Sargeant Hollister who’s saying the same, and no fool is the sargeant, any way.”

  “It’s a scandalous disparagement,” cried Katy, vehemently, “no kinder soul than Harvey carries a pack; and for a gownd or a tidy apron, he will never take a King’s farthing from a friend. Belzebub indeed! For what would he read the bible if he had dealings with the evil spirit?”