CHAPTER XIV.
SOMETHING VERY LIKE A DREAM.
It was after midnight, and the inmates of the woodman's cabin had beensome hours at rest, when Mary Musgrove's sleep was disturbed by strangeand unwonted alarms. She was dreaming of Arthur Butler, and a crowd ofpleasant visions flitted about her pillow, when, suddenly, cloudsdarkened the world of her dream, and images of bloodshed caused her toshudder. Horrid shapes appeared to her, marching with stealthy pacethrough her apartment, and a low and smothered footfall seemed to strikeher ear like the ticking of a death-watch. The fright awakened her, butwhen she came to herself all was still. Her chamber was at the oppositeend of the cabin from that where Butler and Robinson slept, and it wasseparated from the room occupied by Lynch only by a thin partition ofboards. The starlight through her window fell upon the floor, justtouching, as it passed, the chair over which Mary had hung her clothes,and lighting with a doubtful and spectral light the prominent points ofthe pile of garments, in such manner as to give it the semblance of someunearthly thing. Mary Musgrove had the superstition common to rusticeducation, and, as her dream had already filled her mind withapprehensions, she now trembled when her eye fell upon what seemed toher a visitant from another world. For some moments she experienced thatmost painful of all sufferings, the agony of young and credulous mindswhen wrought upon by their horror of spectres in the night. Gradually,however, the truth came to her aid, and she saw the dreaded ghostdisrobed of his terrors, and changed into a familiar and harmlessreality. But this night-fear was scarcely dissipated before she againheard, what in her sleep had conjured up the train of disagreeableimages, the noise of footsteps in the adjoining room. In another instantshe recognised the sound of voices conversing in a half whisper.
"Michael," said the first voice; "Damn it, man, will you never awake?Rouse yourself; it is time to be stirring."
"Wat!" exclaimed the second voice, with a loud yawn, whilst at the samemoment the creaking of the bedstead and a sullen sound upon the floorshowed that the speaker had risen from his couch. "Is it you? I havehardly gone to bed, before you are here to rouse me up. What o'clock isit?"
"It is nearly one," replied Wat Adair. "And let me tell you, you have notime to lose. Hugh Habershaw is good ten miles off, and you must be backby daylight."
"You might have given me another hour, I think, if it was only toconsider over the right way of setting about this thing. Always lookbefore you leap, that's common sense."
"You were always a heavy-headed devil," said Adair; "and take as muchspurring as a spavined horse. What have you to do with considering?Isn't all fixed? Jog, man, jog. You have a beautiful starlight: and Ihad the crop-ear put up in the stable last night, that no time might belost; so up, and saddle, and away!"
"Well, you needn't be so d----d busy; don't you see that I am gettingready?"
"Quiet, Mike; you talk too loud. Take your shoes in your hand, you canput them on when you get into the porch."
"There, give me my coat, Wat; and I think I should have no objection toa drop before I set out. It's raw riding of a morning. Now tell meexactly what I am to say to Hugh Habershaw."
"Tell him," replied Wat, "that we have got Horse Shoe Robinson and MajorButler of the Continental army, as snug as a pair of foxes in a bag, andthat I will let them run exactly at seven; and--"
"Not to interrupt you, Wat," said the other, "let me ask you a questionbefore you go on. Suppose this shouldn't be the man? Are you sure of it?It would be a d----d unchristian job to give over any other human beingto such a set of bloodhounds as Hugh Habershaw and his gang."
"Shaw, Mike; you are a fool! Who, in the name of all the imps, could itbe, but Major Butler! Weren't we expecting him along with Horse Shoe,and just at this time?"
"It looks likely enough," replied Lynch. "So go on."
"Tell Hugh to be ready at the Dogwood Spring, at the latest, by eighto'clock. I'll give him a game to play that will supple his joints forhim. And mind me Mike, warn the greasy captain to have his whole squadwith him; for Horse Shoe Robinson, you know, is not to be handled byboys; it will be a bull-fight, or I'm mistaken."
"The major seems to have a wicked eye too, Wat," said Lynch. "Ishouldn't like much to be in his way, if he was angry; these copperheadsare always in a coil ready to strike. But, Wat, how if they don't rideby the Dogwood Spring?"
"Leave that to me; I'll contrive to go as far as the forks of the roadwith them. And then, if they don't take the right hand fork, why, youmay say it's for the want of my not knowing how to tell a lie."
"Now, Wat Adair, I don't like to spoil sport, but, may be, you havenever thought whether it would be worth while just to take t'other side,and tell Horse Shoe the whole business. Couldn't we, don't you think,get as much money, and just as honestly, by hoisting colors with MajorButler?"
"But I _have_ thought of that, and it won't do, for two reasons. First,these Continentals are on the down-hill, and money is as scarce withthem as honesty with the red-coats: and, second, the Tories have got somuch the upper hand in the whole country, that I should have my houseburnt down and my children thrown into the blaze of it, in less thanthree days, if I was to let these fellows slip through my fingers."
"Well, I never knew," said Mike Lynch, "any piece of villany that hadn'tsome good reasons to stand by it, and that's what makes it agreeable tomy conscience to take a hand."
"Why, you off-scouring," replied Wat, "it is enough to make Old Scratchlaugh, to hear you talk about conscience! There ain't no such a thinggoing in these days. So be off; I'll look for you at daylight."
"I'll ride, Wat, as if the devil was on my crupper; so good bye!"
The cessation of the voices, the distant tramp of Lynch when he had leftthe cabin, and the cautious retreat of Wat Adair to his chamber, toldto Mary that the affair was settled, and the plan of treachery in fullcareer towards its consummation.
The dialogue that had just passed in the hearing of the maiden,disclosed a plot that deeply agitated and distressed her. What did itbecome her to do, was the first question that presented itself to herreflection, as soon as she was sufficiently self-possessed to turn herthoughts upon herself. Was it in her power to avert the impendingdisaster which threatened the lives, perhaps, of those who had soughtthe hospitality of her kinsman? Perplexed, dismayed, and uncertain howto act, she had recourse to an expedient natural to her education, andsuch as would appear most obvious to a feeble and guileless female: itwas to the simple and faith-inspired expedient of prayer. And now, inartless but sincere language, having first risen up in her bed, and benther body across her pillow, in the attitude of supplication, shefervently implored the support of Heaven in her present strait, andbesought wisdom and strength to conceive and to do that which wasneedful for the security of the individuals whose peace was threatenedby this conspiracy.
"I will arise," she said, as she finished her short and earnest prayer,"with the first light of the dawn, and wait the coming of the strangersfrom their chamber, and I will then be the first to tell them of thesnare that is prepared for them." With this resolve she endeavored tocompose herself to rest, but sleep fled her eyelids, and her anxiousthoughts dwelt upon and even magnified the threatened perils. It mightbe too late, she reflected, to wait for the dawn of day; Adair might bebefore her at the door of the guests, and his constant presence mighttake from her all hope of being able to communicate the important secretto them: it was undoubtedly her surest course to take advantage of thestillness of the night, whilst the household were wrapt in sleep, andapprise the strangers of their danger. But then, how was she to make herway to their apartment, and arouse them, at this hour, from theirslumbers? To what suspicions might the attempt expose her, even fromArthur Butler himself? And, more particularly, what would John Ramsaythink of it, if the story should be afterwards told to her disadvantage?
This last was an interrogatory which Mary Musgrove was often foundputting to herself, in winding up a self-communion. On the presentoccasion this appeal to the opinion of John Ramsay ha
d the oppositeeffect from that which might have been expected from it. It suggestednew lights to her mind, and turned her thoughts into another current,and brought that resolution to her aid which her prayer was intended toinvoke. What would John Ramsay think--he, the friend of liberty, and ofWashington, the compatriot of Butler and Robinson, now toiling with themin the same cause! What would he think, if she, his own Mary (and themaiden rested a moment on this phrase), did _not_ do everything in herpower to save these soldiers of independence from the blow whichtreachery was now aiming at them? "John would have good right to beangry with me," she breathed out in a voice that even startled herself,"if I did not give them full warning of what I have heard. This I amsure of, he will believe _my_ story whatever others may say."
Innocence and purity of mind are both sword and shield in this world,and no less inspire confidence to defy the malice and uncharitablenessof enemies than they strengthen the arm to do what is right. Mary,therefore, resolved to forego all maidenly scruples and bravely toperform her duty, come what might; and having settled upon thisconclusion she impatiently awaited the moment when she might ventureforth upon her office of humanity. In this situation it was not longbefore she heard the distant footfall of a horse's gallop along theroad, indicating to her the departure of Michael Lynch upon histraitorous embassy.
The time seemed to be propitious, so Mary arose and dressed herself.Then tripping stealthily to the door that opened upon the porch, sheundid the bolt. A loud and prolonged creak, from the wooden hinges,caused her to shake from head to foot. She listened for a moment, and,finding that no one stirred, stepped forth with the timid and falteringstep which would no less have marked the intent of the burglar, than, asnow it did, the frightened motion of a guardian spirit bent upon anerrand of good. Midway along the porch she had to pass the window ofAdair's apartment; first, the low growl, and then the sudden bark of thewatch-dog saluted her ear, and made her blood run cold. The maiden'shand, however, soothed him into silence; but the noise had attractedthe notice of Wat Adair, who grumbled out a short curse from within,which was distinctly audible to Mary. She hastily fled to the furtherend of the porch, and there stood cowering close against the wall,almost as mute and motionless as a statue, scarce daring to breathe, andpoised, as in the act to run, with her weight resting on one foot, theother raised from the floor. In this position she remained during a longinterval of fear, until, at length, convinced that all was quiet, sheagain ventured forward. The window of the travellers' chamber looked outfrom the gable end of the dwelling, and she was now immediately beforeit. One of the beds of the room, she knew, was placed beside thiswindow, and was occupied by either Butler or Robinson. Tremblingly andmistrustfully, she gave a feeble tap with her hand against the sash.There was no answer: the sleep within was the sleep of tired men, andwas not to be broken by the light play of a maiden's fingers. She nowpicked up a pebble from the ground, and with it again essayed to wakethe sleepers. This, too, was unsuccessful. In utter hopelessness ofaccomplishing her purpose by other means, she ventured upon raising thesash; and having done so, she thrust her head partially into the room asshe held up the window-frame with one hand, crying out with an almostchoked voice.
"Mr. Butler! Mr. Butler! For mercy, awake!"
There was no other response but the deep breathings of the sleep-subduedinmates.
"Oh! what shall I do?" she exclaimed, as her heart beat with a violentmotion. "I might as well call to the dead. Mr. Galbraith Robinson! Ahme, I cannot rouse them without alarming the whole house! Major Butler,"she continued, laying a particular stress upon this designation of hisrank, "Oh, good sir, awake!"
"What do you want?" muttered Butler in a smothered and sleep-stifledvoice, as he turned himself heavily on his pillow, like one moved by adream.
"Oh, heaven, sir, make no noise! I am ashamed to tell you who I am,"said the terrified girl, "but I come for your good--I have something totell you."
"Away, away!" cried Butler, speaking in his sleep, "I will not bedisturbed: I do not fear you. Begone!"
"Oh, sir, hear me," entreated the maiden, "the people in this house knowyou and they are contriving evil against you."
"It makes no difference," muttered the only half-awakened soldier. "Iwill ride where it suits me, if the Tories were as thick as the leavesof the trees."
"There are people gathering to do you harm to-morrow," continued Mary,not suspecting the unconsciousness of the person to whom she addressedherself, "and I only come with a word of warning to you. Do not ride bythe Dogwood Spring to-morrow, nor take the right hand road at the firstforks: there are wicked men upon that road. Have your eye," shewhispered, "upon my uncle Walter. Ride fast and far, before you stop;and pray, sir, as you think fairly of me--Mary Musgrove, sir,--thedaughter of Allen Musgrove, the miller--oh, do not tell my name. If youknew John Ramsay, sir, I am certain you would believe me."
The watch-dog had growled once or twice during the period while Maryspoke, and at this moment the door of the principal room of the cabinwas heard to move slightly ajar, and the voice of Adair, in a whisper,reached the girl's ear.
"Hist, Michael! In the devil's name what brought you back? Why do youloiter, when time is so precious?"
A long, heavy, and inarticulate exclamation, such as belongs todisturbed sleep, escaped from Butler.
"Father of heaven, I shall let the window fall with fright!" inwardlyejaculated Mary, as she still occupied her uneasy station. "Hush, it isthe voice of my uncle."
There was a painful pause.
A heavy rush of wind agitated the trees, and sweeping along the porchcaused some horse-gear that was suspended against the wall to vibratewith a rustling noise: the sound pierced Mary's ear like the accents ofa ghost, and her strength had well nigh failed her fromfaint-heartedness.
"I thought it was Michael," said Adair, speaking to some one within,"but it is only the rattling of harness and the dreaming of Drummer.These dogs have a trick of whining and growling in their sleep accordingto a way of their own. They say a dog sometimes sees a spirit at night.But man or devil it's all one to old Drummer! Sleep quiet, yousuperfluous, and have done with your snoring!"
With these words, the door was again closed, and Mary, for the moment,was released from suffering.
"Remember," she uttered in the most fear-stricken tone, as she loweredthe sash. "Be sure to take the left hand road at the first fork!"
"In God's name, what is it? Where are you?" was the exclamation heard byMary as the window was closing. She did not halt for further parley orexplanation, but now hastily stole back, like a frightened bird towardsits thicket. Panting and breathless, she regained her chamber, and withthe utmost expedition betook herself again to bed, where, gratified bythe consciousness of having done a good action, and fully trusting thather caution would not be disregarded, she gradually dismissed heranxiety, and, before the hour of dawning, had fallen into a gentlethough not altogether unperturbed slumber.
Horse-Shoe Robinson: A Tale of the Tory Ascendency Page 16