CHAPTER XV.
Jubal.
The next day the two girls parted, not to meet again for many a long day. Aunt Martha had received a letter from her husband, in which he begged that she would leave the plantation and return to Baltimore. He had heard of the depredations along the Chesapeake, and was filled with anxiety for her. Therefore she concluded to follow his advice, and made ready to go back to her city home. Betty, likewise, vowed that she could not remain, for these late scenes had completely unnerved her, and she decided to pack up and go to her father in Kent County, and Lettice agreed to go with her, after receiving the approval of her brother Tom as to the step.
“I will hunt up William,” he said, “and will report to him of your movements.”
Before he left, he told them of how he had been picked up by a British vessel, on that day, so long ago, when he had fallen overboard, and how he hadfallen into the captain’s humor when he pretended to believe he was one of his own men, and he had joined the service, determining to escape when he had enough of it. Later on he found himself on board a vessel on which were his old acquaintances, Pat Flynn and Johnny Carter. The three put their heads together and laid plans by which they might manage to get away. Tom was the first to make the attempt, and one dark night dropped overboard. He had not given his true name to any one during all this time, nor did he do so when he was picked up by an American vessel.
“I shall never forget,” he said, “how bravely a young lieutenant stood by me. He was taking in a prize when he sent out a boat to pick me up, and after I told him my story, he swore he would never give me up, though he died for it. He had a chance to prove his words not long after, and stand by me he did, to such an extent that a fight was on before I knew it, and we carried in two prizes instead of one. But as ill luck would have it, on my way home I was taken prisoner just outside our own bay, for the vessel on which I was returning had a little set-to with a British cruiser, and I was nabbed and brought in. But home was too near for me not to make desperate efforts to get to it, and so I did, with what result yousee. I hope Pat got away. Poor fellow, he was bent on it, if chance offered.”
“He did then,” Lettice was able to tell him, and she gave an account of him; then begged Tom to continue his story.
“As I was making for shore,” he went on, “swimming up the little creek I knew so well, whom should I see at the old landing where we always kept the boat, but some one else getting ready to row across; and who should it be but Jamie. I did not know him, for he was only a little chap when I last saw him, but he recognized me, and was overjoyed to see me, in spite of all my misdeeds, and we started off, when pell-mell came a party of British after me. The best thing we could do was to try to cut across and reach home the long way, instead of coming over the creek. So we landed, and at first got along very well, but the wretches, piloted by some one who knew the way, caught sight of us just before we reached here. Jamie kept encouraging me, and said if we could but get to the house it would be all right, and he reminded me of our old hiding-place; but I tripped and fell over the roots of the old locust tree, and Jamie, never thinking of saving himself, stopped to help me up. I cried out to him to go on, but he would not,and he was hit just as we reached the steps. I didn’t even know it, for he called out, ‘I’m right behind you, Tom’, and—” he stopped short and could not go on. Lettice was sobbing, her face against her brother’s broad shoulder.
Betty’s tears were falling fast, and she said unsteadily, “Greater love hath no man than this.”
“Go on, Tom,” said Lettice. “Our dear one is safe; oh, so safe.”
“God grant that when my time comes, I shall not forget his example!” said Tom, brokenly. He was silent for a moment, and then went on with his story. “I had the wit to blow out the candle, and I ran upstairs to the little closet under the eaves at the end of the garret, that was struck by lightning and boarded up afterward; you know the place, and how it can be reached from the roof by going down the scuttle on that side.”
“They hunted through the garret well,” said Betty, “but there was so much piled up this side that they never dreamed there could be any one beyond. I had forgotten the place myself, though William has often told me how you boys used to hide there and make a playroom of that end of the garret.”
“Jamie had suggested it as a good place, and told me I would find it just the same, so I concealedmyself till, through the chinks, I saw the rascals go off, and then as Jamie had not come, I was seized with a mighty fear for him, and could not stay. It will be sad news for our father.”
“Yes; but there will be good news for him, too,” Lettice tried to comfort him by saying. “We have you again.”
A little later, with a quiet good-by to her brother, she parted from him and made ready for her own departure. Lutie, her unwilling helper, dawdled so persistently over the packing that Lettice at last spoke up sharply. “We’ll never get ready at this rate. I’ll leave you here to be gobbled up by the British if you don’t move faster, Lutie.” But this threat did not seem to have the desired effect, for, though Lutie hung her head, she looked more cheerful, and Lettice, bending down, regarded her searchingly. “I believe you want to stay,” she said severely. “I believe you want to desert your mistress, Lutie.”
Lutie’s head hung still lower. “No, ma’am, Miss Letty, ’deed I doesn’t; but I wisht yuh wa’nt gwine.”
“Why? You are so scared of Cockburn and hismen, and yet, now there is danger, you don’t want to leave. Ah, I see; it is Jubal. And what does Jubal say, pray?”
“He say dey ain’ gwine tech me, but dey gwine run yuh-alls off. An’ he say ef he’d a knowed hit were Mars Torm what runned f’om ’em, he’d foun’ a way ter git him home better’n de way he come.”
“Humph!” Lettice was thoughtful. “Lutie,” she cried suddenly, “I believe it was Jubal who informed on him. It was Jubal who showed those wretches the short way here, and he had caused your dear Marster Jamie’s death. Oh, the wretch! Why did I spare him?”
“’Deed, Miss Letty, he ain’t gwine hu’t a hair o’ yo’ haid; Jubal ain’. He turr’ble bad over losin’ Mars Jeems; he weep, an’ mo’n, an’ go on; ’deed he do, Miss Letty. He sutt’nly fon’ o’ Mars Jeems. Ev’ybody love him, Miss Letty, an’ Jubal nuvver do him no ha’m, please, Miss Letty.”
“Hush, let me think.” She sat with her cheek pensively resting in her hand, thinking deeply. All at once there was heard a clatter below. “Hark!” she cried, starting up. “See what that is, Lutie.”
A sharp rap on the door interrupted her, and without waiting a response the room was enteredby two or three British soldiers. “We demand that you give up the deserter who has taken refuge here,” said the foremost one.
“No deserter is here,” replied Lettice, steadily.
“I must beg leave to contradict you,” said the man, looking admiringly at the girl so fair and slight in her black frock.
“I speak the truth,” she returned. “You are at liberty to search the premises. Look for yourselves.”
“We must press you and your maid into our service,” said the man. “Here, you wench,” he turned to Lutie, “go with your mistress and show us where the man is hidden.” He drew his pistol and touched the cold muzzle to Lutie’s temple. The girl gave a stifled scream, and Lettice grew paler.
“You may use whatever force you choose, but you will not succeed in finding any one hidden here,” she said. “I have three brothers; one left us something like a week ago—”
“To join your wretched militia, I suppose, and that makes this place our property. We are ordered to spare only non-combatants and their possessions. Help yourselves, boys. Well, miss, theothers, where are they?”
“My eldest brother has gone to join the younger.”
“Then it is the third we want. Hand him over. Where is he?”
“Lying in our little graveyard,” Lettice answered brokenly, “slain by one of your bullets. He who had never done wrong to friend or enemy lies there.” She covered her face with her hands, and sobs shook her.
The man was silent for a moment; then he said more gently: “My dear young lady, we had what we supposed to be reliable information on the subject of our deserter. One of your own men told us we should find him here.”
Lutie gave a smothered exclamation, and Lettice, dropping her hands from her tear-stained face, said, “Could you point him out to me?” She would have her brother Tom get as far on his way as possible; it was policy to detain these men, and she would know who was this snake in the grass.
“Yes; I think there would be no difficulty in identifying him,” replied the man. “Go out, Clarke, and see if you can find the fellow. Bring him in here, and see what he will say when confronted by his mistress. If the fellow lied—” The click of a trigger told what would happen.
Lettice with bowed head waited results. Lutie,trembling in every limb, cast scared glances at her mistress.
In a few minutes was heard the tread of the returning soldier, and Lutie fell on her knees, clasping Lettice’s skirt. “Spare him, Miss Letty, spare him,” she murmured.
“Get up, wench,” cried one of the men. “Let your mistress alone. See here, captain, she’s not a bad-looking jade. I’ll help myself to her, by your leave, and ship her to my wife.”
Lutie leaped to her feet and rushed toward the in-coming figures of Jubal and his guard. Jubal, with dogged expression, came slinking in behind the soldier. “Found him easy enough,” said the latter. “Here, get out of the way, girl.” He gave Lutie a kick.
“Save me! Save me, Jubal!” Lutie wailed. “Dey gwine sen’ me off, an’ I nuvver come back no mo’. Oh, save me, Jubal!”
“Shut up,” cried the captain. “Here, boy, didn’t you tell us there was a deserter around here somewhere?”
“Ya-as suh, I—I—done said so,” Jubal stammered.
“Well, where is he? This lady protests thathe is not here.”
Jubal rolled his eyes upon his mistress, and then, with chattering teeth, said, “He were here, suh.”
“Jubal,” said Lettice, solemnly, “do you mean your Marster Tom?”
Jubal looked from one side to the other. “I didn’ know hit were Mars Torm, in de fus’ place, Miss Letty, an’ when I fins dat out, I skeered to say nobody heah. Beside dat, Mars Torm gimme a whuppin’ oncet.”
“And you deserved it,” cried his mistress. “You ham-strung his colt because the creature kicked you when you were stealing a ride on him, and you deserved worse than a whipping. You always were a bad fellow, Jubal. I wonder that father did not sell you long ago. I would to Heaven he had!”
“Then your man spoke the truth. There was a deserter here,” said the captain, turning to Lettice.
“There was, if so you choose to consider him, but he is gone. He left us this morning, and when you arrived he was far on his way.”
“Why did you not say so at once?”
“That he might be farther on his way.”
“Ah-h!” The man smiled. “Well, miss, we’ll search the place, anyhow. There may be other things to learn, and we’ll take your maid as a punishment to you for defying his Majesty’s servants. We will leave your loyal man to your tender mercies.”
Lettice laid her hand on Lutie’s shoulder. “I’d rather you’d leave the maid, sir. It seems to me the man is more devoted to your cause than mine.”
“Oh, Jubal, save me, save me!” Lutie wailed.
“Stop that noise,” said the captain, sternly. “Here, boy, I want you. We’ll have a lark, my men. The man shall fight for the maid. If he puts up a good fight, we will let her go, and if he doesn’t, we will take her. Give him a sword, Clarke. We’ll have fair play.” But as soon as Jubal saw the sword and felt himself freed from the grasp of his captor’s hand on his shoulder, with one wild yell, he rushed out pell-mell, head over heels, every soldier after him.
“Now’s your chance,” cried Lettice, to the terrified Lutie. “Run, Lutie, run to the attic. I’ll hide you.” And in the same place that had offered shelter to her brother a few days before, she hid the girl, and then she ran lightly downstairs. She reached her room before the soldiers returned,and was busied with her packing when they again appeared, laughing and shouting.
“The fellow had nimble heels,” said the captain. “He got away, and I venture to say he’ll not stop this side of Baltimore, unless Clarke catches him, for he is still in pursuit. I’ve told him he can have him if he catches him, and Steele, here, will take the maid. Where is she?”
“That you will have to find out for yourselves,” returned Lettice, dauntlessly.
“Aha, you refuse to tell? What shall we do about it, Steele? Shall we capture the mistress instead? We might take her a short trip to Kent Island for her health, eh, Steele?”
“Divil a bit, will ye,” cried a voice at the door. “Ye murtherin’ spalpeens, ye’ll take Miss Lettice, will ye? Ye’ll take this!” Then crying, “Come on, bhys!” Pat Flynn, laying about him with cudgel and sword, so lustily began his defence of the girl, that in a moment one man was disabled and the others had fled, pursued by Pat with his wild Irish yell and his shouts of: “Come on, bhys, we’ll not lave the villyuns a whole hair to split. Come on, the whole pack of ye!” Lettice, seeing that the “bhys” existed wholly inPat’s imagination, speeded his rescue by whistling up the dogs and setting them on the fleeing men who, with dogs worrying them, an Irishman’s shillalah setting their heads buzzing, at last got off the place, vowing vengeance.
“We’ve no time to lose,” said Pat. “They’ll like be on us again as soon as they can get rayinfoorcemints. We’ll have to get out purty quick, Miss Letty. Where is Miss Betty?”
“Oh, I don’t know. How did you happen to come just in the nick of time? I didn’t know you were well enough to show such strength.”
“’Tis all the doin’s of the old naygur woman, sure, Miss Letty. She’s that grand a nurse I never saw. I’d have been away from here this good bit, but she advises me to lay low, sayin’ there’s trouble brewin’, an’ I might be needed. ’Twas she, the cute old owl of a crittur, that give me the hint to slip in on ye aisy loike this mornin’, ‘fur,’ says she, ‘there do be some o’ thim divils o’ ridcoats goin’ in the direction of the great house, Misther Pat,’ says she, an’ I picks up the shillalee I’ve been havin’ by me this week back, an’ off I goes. The swoord, ’twas me luck to find outside the dhoor. Ye’d betther not be wastin’ toime, Miss Letty, dear.”
“But that wounded man in my room?”
“Lave him there. He’ll git no betther place this long while, I’m thinkin’. I’ll be afther gittin’ the horses and carriage ready as quick as I can, Miss Letty, an’ do you an’ Miss Betty thry yer purtiest to git off.”
“Betty! Sister Betty!” Lettice’s call rang through the silent house. “Oh, where are you?” She ran up and down stairs, and at last from the drawing-room came a smothered answer, “Here.”
“Come out from your hiding-place. Wherever you are, come quick.” And from behind the pile of green boughs placed in the fireplace to screen it, a grimy, sooty Betty appeared, with her baby in her arms. The little fellow had kept a noble silence, although but half understanding that there was a cause for fear. Every servant on the place had made for the woods when the word had gone forth that the redcoats were chasing Jubal. Even the house servants had not been able to resist joining in the general stampede, and Lutie, up in the little closet, alone remained.
“Hurry out and get into the carriage,” cried Lettice. “It is around by the side of the house. Pat Flynn is there. Hurry, hurry, Betty; don’t stop to wash your face. I am coming in one minute.”
Betty caught up a bag of the articles she hadalready packed, and Lettice called from the window to Pat to please try to get her trunk on behind. Then she skurried about, picking up this thing and that, and thrusting it into a pillow case which, when full, she pitched out of the window. This done, with fleet steps she ran up to the attic. “Out with you, quick, Lutie!” she cried. “Come as quick as you can, or you will get left behind.” And Lutie, after scrambling out on the roof and down the chimney on the other side, reached her mistress, who stood waiting for her. “You will be safe, Lutie, if you hurry!” she told her. “Come on. Don’t stop to get anything.” She grasped the girl’s arm and fairly dragged her down the steep stairs. Yet, pressed for time though she was, she could not forbear stopping at the door of her room to look in at the man who lay on the floor. He was the same who had claimed Lutie. A sudden thought of Jamie froze all compassion from Lettice’s breast.
“Sir, we leave you to the tender mercies of your own friends,” she said. “You see I mean to keep my maid. You cannot send her to your wife.” Then she turned with a gentle smile to Lutie. “Come,” she said, “we will go, but I think we may never see the old house again, and I do not thinkyou will ever see Jubal again, Lutie.”
The maid caught her mistress’s hand in both of hers and laid her smooth brown cheek upon it. “Yuh loves me better’n Jubal does, Miss Letty. He lef’ me. He wa’n’t willin’ ter fight fo’ me. Yuh didn’t run an’ leave me, Miss Letty. De Lord bless yuh, my Miss Letty. I don’ spec I uvver see dat fool Jubal agin, an’ I don’ keer. I belongs ter yuh, an’ I is say my pra’rs ter God A’mighty fo’ dat till I dies.”
“We take our leave of you, monsieur,” said Lettice with a sweeping courtesy, as she turned to leave the doorway. The man shook a feeble fist at her as she disappeared.
“To leave my room so occupied is dreadful,” said Lettice; “yet better that than to be dragged from it myself. Good-by old home,” she cried, waving her hand. “We may never see you again.”
“Don’t say so,” Betty entreated. “I want to think I am coming back soon.” But she, too, gazed out as long as she could, and until the trees hid the last bit of the white house.
True enough, it was a last look, for an hour later a band of angry men appeared, who, after having rescued their fallen comrade, plundered the house and set fire to it, and by night only a mass of smouldering ruins remained.
The carriage was driven along at a lively pace, Pat proving himself as good a driver as a fighter. He had fully recovered from his wounds and was eager to get back to Baltimore, to see service, and to find Mr. Joe. Young Tom Hopkins had started for the North to join his father. “To show him that I mean to do something to wipe out my past record,” he said.
Pat would not give any credence to the belief that Joe was lost. “He’s gone off to some av thim furrin countries, an’ is lookin’ out fur prizes. He’s not lost at all, to my thinkin’,” he said. This Lettice wrote to Patsey, who was much comforted thereby.
Patsey, too, had retreated from her home to a safe distance, and was with friends in Washington. She had begged Lettice to go with her, but Lettice had refused, saying that she would be better content in a quiet place, where the merry ways of her little nephew would bring her more solace than could anything else. She devoted much time to the little fellow, who grew more and more winsome every day, and was so adored by Betty’s parents that he was in danger of being spoiled.
During the remainder of the year Lettice passed in a quiet village in the county of Kent. Betty, glad enough to be with her own family, soon regained herspirits; and Lettice herself, deeply as she grieved over the loss of her brother, was not uncomforted by the return of her eldest brother, and by the assurance of being in as safe a place as was afforded. Tom, be it said, had thrown himself heart and soul into the war. He had too many scores to settle, not to deal such blows as opportunity allowed him. For a month or so life was very peaceful for Lettice, and then came a new trouble: Lutie disappeared. Whether she had stolen off of her own accord, or whether she had been captured, could not be discovered. Lettice firmly believed the latter to be the truth, and mourned her little maid with real sorrow.