Although Sally had not slept until late the night of the ball, yet quite early she awoke the next morning, and, gathering the shawl closely about her, she began going over the fine sights and sounds, that had left a charm in her mind like unto a Fairy dream.
The longing in the maid's young heart for better things than those she had, fairly cried out within her, as she thought of the appearance and the graces of those high-born dames.
"I should have a better home," she said, glancing around her miserable room. "There must be ways in which I can raise myself. I am getting of an age to raise myself could I but see how to do it, yet I would wish to do nothing wrong."
"There can be no wrong in wishing to better your condition," said her Fairy; "you are no slave."
"Then I will watch for a chance," said Maid Sally.
"Do," said her Fairy.
In those days, Mistress Brace grumbled and scolded because she dared not buy tea. There was still a tax on it, and loyal colonists denied themselves tea sooner than pay the unjust tax.
But Mistress Brace had no great love of country, nor did she care anything about the matters that were stirring the people way down into their hearts and souls.
And so, after a time, she had grown tired and vexed at having to go without her tea. The only reason she had gone without it at all, was because the hired men—these were farmers who were hired by a planter—had said that it was known all over the place when any one bought an ounce of "the taxed stuff," and that whoever got it was set down as being a"Tory," which meant a person who favored England and the king rather than one's own country.
But there came a day not long after the ball, when Mistress Brace made up her mind that she would do without tea no longer. The hired men had put up with herb—they called it "yarb"—tea, made from herbs and mints, and had drunk it without complaint.
But the mistress thought they need know nothing about it if she bought a package for her own use. Goodman Chatfield, who sold dry-goods and haberdashery, or small wares, on one side of his store, and groceries on the other, would sell no tea at all; he was a true patriot, and "the taxed stuff" could not be found at his store.
But the "apothecary man" kept a little "for weak and sickly folk," and now Mistress Brace handed Sally some money as she said:
"Here's two and thri-pence, and you are to go to Doctor Hancocke's store and buy half a pound of tea."
"I can't buy tea," said Sally, drawing back her hand and not touching the money.
"You do as I tell you!" cried Mistress Brace, with fierceness in her tones. "If Doctor Hancocke says aught about it, tell him I am not well and must have a good sup of tea to hearten me."
"But you are well," replied Maid Sally, "and it would not be right, either that I should tell a lie or that I should buy tea with the king's tax upon it."
Mistress Brace raised her hand as if to strike the young maiden who stood straight and quiet before her. But she did not strike her, she only exclaimed again:
"Take the money and do as you are bid!"
"I can't buy tea" said Maid Sally.
"Then begone out of my sight and out of my house, and see that you come not back!" cried the angry mistress. "Highty, tighty! but a great time of day it is when beggars turn about and say 'I can't,' to those who have kept and fed them. Begone, I say, you malapert!"
Sally turned away without a word, but when nearly through the doorway, she looked back and said:
"I am not a beggar. I am an American girl, and mean to act like one."
Now there is always something about the words of one who gets not in a rage, but answers coolly one who is in one, that cools down the wrathful person and sets him or her to thinking. And Mistress Brace was struck with fear. What had she dared to say? And what meant Sally to do?
But her temper was too high to put down all at once, so she replied:
"Very sure that you are an American, are you?"
Then, as if it came into her mind that she had better not have said that, and as she also already wished she had not called the maid a beggar, bidding her go away and stay, she began, with a sour kind of laugh:
"Of course, I know nought of you before you were a baby wench of four years or so,and if you are so silly set against getting the tea—"
But Sally had darted to her tiny room. She would wait to hear no more. And thankful she was that Goodman Kellar came the next moment with eggs and butter for Mistress Cory Ann to chaffer or bargain about.
Mistress Brace had never been soft of speech, although she could put on the manners of a well-spoken dame, but she had of late grown more and more rough and coarse, ordering Sally about at times in so unmannerly a way that the maid had more than once turned it over in her mind, wondering if she had any right so to order her.
And then, in truth, Sally was noticing such things more after hearing Mistress Maria Kent's nice and gentle speech than she had in the past. And now she hastened to get away if possible before Mistress Brace and Goodman Kellar should be done parleying. All her young spirit flamed up when the mistress called her a beggar, and although something fine in her nature kept herquiet at the words, they were not to be passed over.
She dressed herself with care, putting on a brown and scarlet linsey-woolsey gown but just made, and bought nearly all with her own money. Then she slipped out at the front door. It was her day to recite to Parson Kendall, and although she scarcely dared think it out, there was a resolve forming under the warm tints of her ruddy hair.
But here was her Fairy with something to say.
"What are you going to do, Maid Sally?"
"I know not, good Fairy, but I mean not to sleep to-night at Mistress Cory Ann's."
"Hast any other home?"
"No, good Fairy, but mayhap I will find one."
"Have you any fixed idea about it?"
"N-o; I have only in my mind that of which I cannot yet speak."
"Very well, then be brave and do not falter. You have long felt ill at ease with the Torywoman; tell not too much, but speak the truth boldly."
"I mean to," said Maid Sally.
After the French lesson was over, Sally lingered in the parson's library.
"I gave thee the next reading, did I not?" asked Parson Kendall.
"Yes, I know about the lesson, sir," replied Sally, "but I know not where I had better go. I have no home."
"No home?" repeated the parson, "how is that? Hath the woman Mistress Brace cast thee out?"
Sally turned pale, so great was her fright and her desire to cry. But a single word from her Fairy helped her:
"Courage!"
"I refused to buy tea at the apothecary man's," she said, "and Mistress Brace called me a beggar, and bade me go and not return. I cannot be called a beggar, nor can I go back, when I have been told to stay away."
Parson Kendall toyed with his watch-fob,looked at the braided mat on which he stood, and seemed studying the pattern of the border. After what seemed a long time to Sally, he said:
"Sit thee down for a moment, poor maid. I would speak with Goodwife Kendall for a space. Be not timorous, all may yet be well with thee."
Sally sank into a chair as the parson disappeared.
"I've done it!" she said to her Fairy.
"Yes, and without many words," answered her Fairy. "That is always the best way to do that to which one has made up the mind."
Then Sally fell a-thinking. But so quickly beat her heart that she could scarcely sit still. And it beat all the faster when the door opened and Goodwife Kendall, in a rustling black silk, with soft muslin collar and cuffs, and a lace cap upon her head, stood before her.
"I hear you have not so good a home, little maid," she said, in a fine, low voice, "as would beseem thee, and the minister has no mind tosend thee back to it. So here is a plan. My two servants are faithful at their tasks, but there is much needlework that is needful to be done. My two sisters are to tarry with me for the present, and much visiting must be enjoyed.
"There are certain duties to be attended to in the minister's family, and in his library, which it is not befitting that servants should be trusted with. Would it suit thee to be my helper for a time?"
"Oh, indeed, and indeed," cried Sally, stopping to choke for an instant, "I will so gladly and most faithfully do anything you may ask; and I shall need nothing at present, I have clothes—"
"Tut, tut, child!" said Goodwife Kendall, with a smile. "No one should work well to receive nothing in return, and I shall give thee two and sixpence a week, both to teach thee how to use a little money wisely, and also to pay for what I know thou wilt justly earn."
And seeing that Sally was at the point ofbursting out crying, she added, while turning toward the door:
"Come, now, Parson Kendall will send to Mistress Brace for such clothes as you have bought for yourself, leaving all for which she has paid. It will please me to clothe thee with what may be needful from time to time. But there are dried berries to be picked over and put in soak before being stewed for supper. Come and let me show thee how to prepare them."
"O Fairy! Fairy! is not this grand?"
Maid Sally stood in a little room, so neat, so prettily furnished, that it was to her like waking up and finding one of her pleasant dreams come true.
A cot with a real feather bed was in one corner, a small chest of drawers with a mirror on it, a mirror in a square frame screwed into a little stand, so she could bring it forward or push it back, was at one side of the room; a small wooden rocking-chair stood by the window, and a pretty painted wash-stand, with bowl and pitcher, a soap-dish, and a saucer for brushes, was opposite the bed.
Sally looked with pleasure on the simple yet convenient things that she never had had the use of before. Then she said:
"I feel as though these things fitted me. Yes, and even finer ones might, too. Why is it I have such feelings always rising within me whenever I look upon what is fine and would seem far above me?"
"I cannot tell you," said her Fairy.
"Did you notice," asked Sally, "what slipped from Mistress Cory Ann's tongue? how she asked was I sure of being an American?"
"I noticed, surely," said the Fairy, "but many a vain and useless thing will slip from the tongue of an angry woman. I think she meant but to taunt you."
"Yet I wonder what she may know."
"It would be wiser to stop wondering," returned her Fairy.
And now it was not only a new home, but a new life that had come to the pretty maid.
Goodwife Kendall did not favor having too much time spent in arranging the hair, dressing up, and such like vanities. Yet much it did please her to see the beautiful fluff and rich curlof Sally's red-gold hair after she had used on it a good brush and comb.
And a "changeable" silk of pink and gray, making an "ashes of roses" color, that had hung useless in the closet for a year, made so becoming a gown for the blooming maid that Goodwife Kendall feared lest the bright young head might be turned at sight of the fair vision flashed back from the little mirror into the clear, dark eyes.
And Parson Kendall had some ado in striving to keep back from her ears sundry and divers compliments and sweet sayings that began to be tossed about, bearing on the growth and beauty of the Maid Sally Dukeen.
As winter rolled away and spring came on, the threats and mutterings against the governor and king grew louder and ever louder, and spoken with less fear. Work was going on in the fields and on the plantations, but men met at the corner of the roads and at the stores, talking long and earnestly, and with stern faces and dark brows.
Sally had seen the Fairy Prince ride by a number of times, sometimes with his cousin Rosamond Earlscourt at his side. With other new feelings, Sally had begun to feel backward at thought of going again to the seat behind the hedge. She could read anything now, and in more than one language. No excuse any longer for wanting to hear another read, and something told her that slyly listening was not becoming in any person of right ideas.
One day at dinner,—always the noon meal in those days,—Parson Kendall said:
"It is now reported that Sir Percival Grandison, after much thought, feels it his duty to side with the king, and not to aid the colonists. But he hath great todo in striving to keep down the fiery spirit of his young son. The lad thinketh himself old enough to have a mind of his own, as indeed he is, and he greatly desireth to have his name enrolled as a soldier, if fighting must be done. It is sad to have father and son divided at such serious times, and Sir Percival wishes not to deal harshly with his son.Yet the young man is with the colonists heart and soul."
"And how old is he?" asked one of the sisters.
"He is nineteen, not yet of age."
"But if there should be fighting, think you not there would be many a stripling," asked Goodwife Kendall, "of even seventeen or eighteen, who would enter the ranks on our side?"
"I have no doubt of it," answered the parson, "and it may be that very glad we shall be of the assistance of the younglings."
No one noticed how rosy grew the face of Maid Sally, or how short became her breath as the talk went on. But long ere this had she made up her mind that, should war break out, her Dream Prince would want to be in the thick of the fight, and on the right side.
The lad who stood at the edge of the lawn one night, and said, in firm, decided tones, that he meant to act as should a man, would never sit tamely down and let others struggle for the liberty he was to enjoy.
One soft evening well past mid April, Sally walked over in the direction of Ingleside. She had wearied at heart for the sound of the voice of her Fairy Prince, yet she told herself there was but little chance of hearing him, even should she go but just once more to the rocky seat. For had she not seen him go by but a few moments before in the Ingleside coach?
No; Sally thought it was he who sat beside his sister Lucretia, but she was mistaken.
"I will see if the seat still be there," she said to herself, as, entering the hedge, she saw in a moment that the great stones were just as they had been months before.
Ah! but she had been there only a few moments when she blushed and tightly clasped her hands together at sound of a well-known voice, as quick footsteps came toward the arbor.
"Now here," said the voice of the Prince, "we can talk without danger of being overheard.
"You know, Reginald, I would not willingly do anything to disturb or to anger my sire, butI feel it my solemn duty to do all that one young man can to put down tyranny and unjust rule, which is oppression.
"How can my father allow himself to be so mistaken? Or how can he fail to see that Governor Dunmore has insulted us, and treated us like children in taking away our gunpowder, leaving us as he did with no way of defending ourselves in case of an attack?
"I reckon he found out his mistake when he was obliged to pay us for it, for he could not stand before the fury of the people when they found out what had been done."
Poor Sally had felt a twinge that hurt when Lionel Grandison said, "Now here we can talk without danger of being overheard." The nicer part of her nature asked if she ought not at once to go away from the rocks. But she could hardly have done that without herself being overheard, and sooner than risk that, she made up her mind that this time she must stay, but that in the future she must sit no more between the wall and the hedge at Ingleside.
She knew the companion of her Prince to be Reginald Bromfeld, who spoke next:
"I have but an hour ago heard from Boston, and the town is red-hot over the unlawful, daring conduct of the soldiers, and the government that has sent them over here. Mark my words!" exclaimed young Bromfeld, "it won't be long before a blow will be struck that meaneth war, and when it is, it will be near Boston town that the first sharp crack of a gun will be heard.
"And also when that blow is struck, I shall be on the ground almost before one could say 'Jack Robinson!'"
"I would I could go too," said Lionel, "running like 'Sam Hill!'"
Both young men laughed a little, then Reginald asked:
"But would that be best? It may be that Virginia's sons will need remain to defend her. You know I hail from Boston, am native there, although business affairs of my mother's have brought me here."
"I should not mean to fly from duty," saidLionel, "but wherever the first hard blow for freedom is struck there will men be needed, and for a time at least I think the conflict will be hottest near old Boston town."
There came at that moment the sound of gay voices from near the house.
"What you say may be true," Reginald hastened to reply, then he added in a sly tone, "but I thought it might be there were fair ones, I might say,afair one, it would be your first sweet duty to stay and defend."
"Oh, prithee, halt!" cried Lionel, half impatiently. "Thefair one I would guard and defend, at present, is my native land. All fair dames and maidens have my respect and command my service, but I can think neither of billing or cooing or wooing with sound of clanking guns being raised in our midst, and by those who call us 'rebels!'
"Now here come the ladies. And hark ye! the subject must be changed. I like not talking of war with those who think it sin to take up arms against the king."
After they had gone Sally sat for several moments lost in thought.
"It would sometimes seem that he loveth the Lady Rosamond not one whit," she said, dreamily.
Then she arose, shook out her pretty skirt with its simple but tasteful overskirt of flowered cloth, and began a leisurely homeward walk.
Her heart-beats quickened and she turned her head aside, when two soldiers appeared at a turn in the road. She could usually avoid meeting them, but to-night they were so near she must needs pass them.
As she hurried by, some green sprays she had held fluttered to the ground. The next instant a tall, graceful form was by her side, and a pair of curious eyes were peeping into her straw bonnet.
"Permit me, ma'selle," said a pleasant voice, and the green sprays were offered her.
Sally had raised her eyes in surprise, but said "Thank you," and was hurrying on when the soldier suddenly exclaimed "Ah! ah!" as ifsurprised at the beauty of the young face, and had no mind to let the maid escape so easily.
"There are many abroad to-night," he said, with a strange way of calling his words, "and it might be convenient to have a friend near; would ma'selle permit me to walk beside her?"
But Sally, with all her shyness at times, was no coward, and she very well knew that the British soldier and a stranger should not seek to walk with her. So she replied, in a low voice but with a fine, maidenly air:
"My home is at the parson's close by. I have no fear, nor is there need that any one should walk with me;" and she raised her eyes part way to his face.
The soldier said "Ah!" again, but this time with so great a note of surprise that Sally looked him full in the face, and lo! it was not a young man at all that she saw, but a tall, handsome man with thick moustaches that were going gray.
Now neither Englishmen nor Americans wore moustaches in those days. A beard or side-whiskers were often worn, but Sally had neverbefore seen a man with long moustaches that swept his smooth cheek.
But it was not the brave, distinguished look of the soldier that made Sally pause for an instant with her eyes on his face. Some dim memory was stirred at sight of him. As she dropped her eyes the soldier said, in a gentle voice:
"Would not young ma'selle tell her name? I bear myself a name both true and tried, one of which never to be ashamed. I would know what name ma'selle is called by."
Sally was quick of thought.
"Parson Kendall might better tell my name," she said. "Oh, and here comes Mammy!"
And making excuse to dart away, Sally hastened forward at sight of Mammy Leezer, who had come along at the right moment.
Mammy was out in great glory. A gay bandanna, really a handkerchief of red silk with yellow dots, was made up into a gay turban, with rabbit's ears that stood erect just over the middle of her forehead.
Another gay kerchief was crossed over herample bosom, and her skirt of white cotton with a red stripe stood out stiff with starch, making Mammy look much like a sailing balloon as she came slowly along.
"What dat sojer man sayin' to you, honey?" she asked, as Sally flew up to her in a way to do her affectionate old heart good.
"Nothing much," said Sally. "I dropped some leaves and he picked them up for me, but I didn't want him stepping beside me, so I ran up to you."
"Which am de proper ting to do," said Mammy, with dignity. "Doan't you let none of dem Britishers go sparkin' yo' pritty face, honey, nor doan't you be a bit 'fraid o' dem, neder. I nebber was 'fraid ob de face of clay, and dar doan't no sojers make eyes at me when I goes out walkin' ov an evening."
Sally wanted to laugh at the pompous air with which Mammy stalked along, much like an old dragoon, she thought, for the soft spring weather had helped her rheumatism, and she could get along with considerable comfort.
But the road forked, and Mammy went off toward Ingleside, while Sally went on to the parson's.
She had reached the gate, and was startled as she began going up the gravelled walk to hear a soft voice beside her say:
"Allow me, ma'selle," and the tall soldier's sword grated on the walk, as, bending low, he put a card in the curve of her arm. Then lifting his hat gay with gold lace high above his head, he said, with his gentle accent, "Au revoir, ma'selle." And he was gone.
"He is French," said Sally, "for he said 'Au revoir, ma'selle,' and that means 'adieu, or good-by, mademoiselle, until we meet again.'"
Peace was at an end. The smell of war was in the air. May had dawned, hot, sweet, and full of the jangle of many tongues. Strange, wild things were happening, and so swiftly that hardly could men sleep, so fierce were they for news.
Lord Dunmore, Virginia's governor, was looked upon as an enemy, false and dangerous. Besides trying to take from the people all their gunpowder, it was found that he had tried to stir up the Indians to make one of their cruel attacks upon the people. Soon after this he left Williamsburg not to return.
News travelled but slowly in those days, and so the May sun had been shining some weeks when a man on horseback brought the tidings that at about the same time that the gunpowderhad been seized, there had actually been fighting near Boston.
"Think of it!" exclaimed Parson Kendall, at the table at noon; "the messenger who rode into town this morning saith that seven of our minutemen were killed, and four others wounded, at Lexington, not far from Boston. And at Concord also, close by, there soon followed more fighting.
"Thinketh any one that we will lay down our arms after that? Not so! not so!" cried the parson. "The British rushed forward and destroyed our stores, making sad havoc for a time, but at what a cost! They very soon were to know with what manner of rebels they had to deal.
"The whole body of Continental soldiers sprang to their guns, the news spread from mouth to mouth, and from town to town. Out poured the people from farm, hamlet, and shop. Boys who had ever handled a gun rushed to the scene, and from behind trees, rocks, and buildings came a steady fire into the Britishranks, and had not help come to them from Boston, none of those British soldiers would have escaped alive. Three hundred of them were beaten down as it was.
"Glory to God! Such men as ours cannot be beaten. But the town is on fire. Young Reginald Bromfeld, who hath of kith and kin in Boston, is about to start with a company of youths for Boston, and declareth that he can scarcely wait to perform the journey, so anxious is he to shoulder a musket, aye, and use it too. I can but wish the lad Godspeed!
"Sir Percival Grandison, whom I cannot but hold as a good man, hath forbidden his son—most unwisely, I fear—to take part with the colonists either here or elsewhere. And Sir Percival is a man of iron will. Beshrew me! but I have it in my heart to believe that he would keep the lad from Boston by force, could he do it in no other way.
"And it hath also been told that the proud maid, Rosamond Earlscourt, hath said all in her power to make him feel that he is acting bothunjustly and unkindly in taking a different side from that of parents and sweetheart—for such she seemeth to hold herself to be. No Southern gentleman would like such words.
"And report hath it that Sir Percival meaneth to go to England for a time, as soon as business matters can be settled here and permit. Ah, but he must act swiftly!"
Sally had listened with ears that tingled.
But all this time there was in her heart a puzzling question, and it had to do with the soldier's card. By the light of a candle, the night she received it, she had seen a name that made her start. For she saw at once that it was the same that she had seen on the cape and in the letter in Mistress Brace's little trunk.
"What could it mean?" Sally dreaded to know, because the name was plainly a French one. She had no love or liking for British soldiers, still less for a French soldier who would take up arms against her own dear land.
"For itshall bemy own dear land," she said, the determined cleft settling in her chin.
But small time there was to spend over mysteries or hidden things. War had begun, and her Prince at Ingleside must fight his nearest friends if to battle he would go.
"I would that I could help thee, Fairy Prince!" she cried in her heart.
Did some kind Spirit hear her prayer?
Three days later, toward the close of afternoon Sally went toward the woodsy place and the pine-trees she had long loved.
She went to the other side of the great oak and sat down on the moss, her back against the tree. She could not easily be seen from the narrow path as she thus sat cosily curled.
"They say"—she caught her breath—"that on the morrow morn, there goeth forth with Reginald Bromfeld, my Fairy Prince, Leon Sutcliff, Edward Byrd, Hugh Spottswood, and others to join the forces at Boston, so sure are all the people that great strife is at hand in that quarter. And very swiftly are they to press forward, hoping to be in time for it.
"I must get a look at my Fairy Prince in themorning. He will not hear me bid him 'Godspeed,' but Godspeed I shall bid him with all my heart."
She stood up, intending to walk on, but at a little turn in the thicket road farther on, she saw three horsemen slowly advancing. They wore light riding-coats, which had concealed the scarlet coats of the king's men, but these outer garments were now thrown open, showing clearly the colors beneath them. Sally at once sat down again, huddling herself close at the back of the oak, hoping not to be seen as they rode by in single file.
On coming near, the first man turned in his saddle to answer a remark of one of his fellows.
"I will hold," he exclaimed, softly, "that I liked it not his keeping so still. It would have served me better had he kicked or shown temper as I expected."
"What good would that have done?" asked the other, stopping his horse a moment, that seemed well spent.
"No good," answered the first man; "but itwas a dirty piece of work at best. I would that Sir Percival could have found another way of keeping back his young son. Strange it were to spirit away the lad in that style. He really thought he was showing us the way, not seeing the colors we wore until too late."
"My Fairy Prince!" gasped Maid Sally, "my Fairy Prince!"
"Make no more talk," said the third man, stoutly. "No harm hath been done, no harm whatever! And well paid are we to be. The lad will simply be detained until too late to join his comrades, a matter of two days or so."
"I half fear me the sharp wits of the lad will find him a way of escape," said the first speaker, "and he is but six hours' ride from Pamunkey turnpike, where the others will ride at noon to-morrow."
"Aha!" said the third man, "but Farmer Hinds will watch him well. His reward will sharpen his eyes, no doubt."
"He would be all right could he but get a horse," said the first man.
"And no horse will he get within miles of Darius Hinds's old farm place for days to come," said the second man. "Plenty of oxen, but never a horse or a mule. But come on! Tired out I am. Our work is done. And no one knoweth aught, except that the pert young plotter Bromfeld was told that, at the last moment, Sir Percival Grandison's upstart warrior had changed his mind and started on a little journey."
Home went Maid Sally, head down, heart full. She knew the whole story. What should she do? Tell Parson Kendall, and let him fly to the rescue? Then might the king's men interfere, and great trouble come to the good parson.
Ah! she knew what to do. Find Reginald Bromfeld, and let the gay troop pass that way on the morrow and release their comrade. That they could easily do, even should it take a little time.
She went home to her supper, and then, saying she would take a walk, started for the Widow Bromfeld's, about a mile away. When near the place she met an old colored uncle, and asked where she might find Master Reginald Bromfeld.
"Nowhar," answered the old man. "He done gone with young Mars' Sutcliff, Mars' Byrd, Mars' Spottswood, Mars' Norris, and Mars' Culpeper for Bosting town, an' only de good Lawd know whedder any ob em ebber come walkin' back alibe."
"When did they go?" panted Sally.
"Two hour ago, missy. For some reason 'bout gettin' guns, dey mus' stop on de way. But dey all gets to de big turnpike to-morr' noon. Den dey cuts fo' Bosting."
Sally turned back, and, walking briskly, was soon at home and in her room. While it was still early she went to bed.
But sleep was as far from the maiden's eyes as though such a thing had never been known. Her Fairy Prince had been trapped, gently it was true, yet trapped, and led off where he would be watched, and not be able to meet his friends until too late to join in the great battle they felt was near at hand.
"And he is at the farm of Darius Hinds, sixhours from Pamunkey turnpike," she said, as if repeating a well-learned lesson.
When she laid herself down that night, Sally had felt almost sure that there was no help for her poor Prince. The times were dangerous. To tell what she knew might make strife right in their midst. She was afraid for others, but never for herself.
As the clock on the stairs struck eleven, she heaved a great sigh. "If I could only help him!" she cried, softly, to herself.
"Iwillhelp him!" she cried again, "I will."
Then she paused in self-surprise.
"What is there inside me," she asked, "that leaps up with such strength whenever I say 'I will?' And what makes me say it? Have I strange, hardy blood in my veins making me want to fight? I do want to fight! They tell that boys twelve years of age are shouldering guns and rushing into battle at Boston. A gun I would shoulder this very night and march forth to fight those redcoats were I a boy. I am but a maid of fourteen years, but somethingI would gladly do for my country, and, alas! for my Fairy Prince."
She put her red-gold head down on her arms, which were folded across her knees as she sat up in bed, and for several moments she neither spoke nor stirred.
All at once, as though some one had touched a match to a pouch of powder, up she started, her eyes wild with excitement.
"I have it!" she exclaimed, springing softly to the floor, "I have it! May I but have the luck I crave, and my Dream Prince shall go free!"
What she meant to do her red lips did not utter. But she dressed plainly and carefully, and from a drawer she took a piece of black lace and wound it about her head and over her forehead.
Down-stairs she crept, and in the porch put on a long, straight coat worn by the parson when for exercise he worked in the garden, and on her head she put an old straw hat with a broad rim, half shading her face.
Then she passed out at a rear door that was not locked, and walked into the road with a long, careless stride.
The colored boys were often thus seen going from place to place late at night. And with her goldy hair pressed under the dark lace, her face partly covered by the big hat, and the coat closely buttoned and reaching nearly to her heels, Sally might well have been taken for a tall boy bound on an errand, or striding homeward from a late dance.
She made straight for Ingleside, reaching it from the parson's at a point below the stables, and, oh, joy! she nearly cried out with delight.
Hotspur was tethered in a square paddock, well behind the stables, Sampson, or "Samp," an enormous watch-dog who would have let no stranger approach, beside him. But Samp she knew well, and quieted him with a soft word.
What made Sally so sure that she could ride a great fiery horse she could not have told, but some natures there are so fearless and yet sosweet that animals will follow them wherever they may lead.
And when Maid Sally went up to Hotspur and drew down the beautiful short head and patted and pinched the soft nose, then, letting down a couple of bars and pulling at the bridle, led him over the thick turf, the great creature followed with slow, silent tread as the brave young girl went out into the back road. Samp went back as he was bidden, obedient as a child.
On went Sally, her heart thumping lest some one should hear and sharply order her back.
At a little distance she led Hotspur to a stile, and climbing up, still holding the bridle, she mounted without accident.
"Now up and away, Hotspur!" she cried, pressing her feet to the powerful sides. And up and away it was!
For Sally neither drew rein, nor did Hotspur once break his long, splendid stride until nearly an hour had passed.
"FOR SALLY NEITHER DREW REIN NOR DID HOTSPUR ONCE BREAK HIS LONG, SPLENDID STRIDE.""FOR SALLY NEITHER DREW REIN NOR DID HOTSPUR ONCE BREAK HIS LONG, SPLENDID STRIDE."
Sally had noted the direction from which thethree horsemen had come in the afternoon. She knew also that Pamunkey turnpike was almost a day's journey from Williamsburg.
Fully four hours must she ride before going half the distance. But the stage-wagon was slow compared to Hotspur's fleet hoofs.
The meeting-house clock had struck twelve as she rode through the town, and now it must be about one. But a single help could she have to guide her, and she said to herself:
"Well it is that Parson Kendall hath taught me somewhat about the stars. I must keep the big dipper directly before me or I shall alter my course. Pamunkey turnpike lieth before me as the crow flies. Often enough have I heard that."
As if her own voice was like company, she asked:
"Now, good Fairy, what must I do?"
And she pretended her Fairy made answer:
"Be wise. Speak to no one unless forced to. Poke a sharp toe against Hotspur's side should any one try to stop you. If speak you must,let it be in the words and tones of the black people. This you could do very well. Make a queer jumble of what you say, to confuse any who may question you."
And Sally answered, demurely:
"All these commands will I obey."
Then she laughed merrily, and Hotspur suddenly kicked out his hind legs as if full of sport himself.
For two hours Sally rode on undisturbed, then there loomed a great wagon she must either meet or hide somewhere to avoid it.
She thought it safer to ride to the back of a great barn and hide. But Hotspur liked not being drawn up into the dark shadow. Just as the wagon rumbled by he gave a loud neigh. Up went a window somewhere overhead.
"Who's there?" called a harsh voice. "Answer, or I'll let out the dogs."
"Say, Mars'," called Sally, in a shrill tone, "how far to Parson Kendall's, and how far to Farmer Hinds's?"
"You must be a fool!" replied the gruffvoice. "Parson Kendall's lies way behind, two or three hours' ride. Hinds's place is two hours ahead, straight along by the bushes, through the oak belt, and on by the river path."
"De bushes road straight on, isn't it?" asked Sally.
"Follow your stupid nose, and half an hour's ride will bring you to it. I say, whose horse have you got there?"
"Yah! yah! dis hoss get me dar all right," cried Sally, and hitting a heel against Hotspur, she was off like a rocket, hearing nothing more.
But alack! five or six horsemen next approached on the lonely road, and there appeared no way of escape. The house and barn were far behind, nor would she have turned and fled. Only open fields and meadows lay ahead.
Then Sally made a mistake.
She pulled a stinging sapling from a bush, thinking to give Hotspur a smart switch, and so race by as the men came up. Had she but known it, a gentle slap from her hand on hisshining flank and a hiss in ear would have sent the proud animal bounding forward like a deer, exactly as she wished.
So fine a horse would be noticed anywhere, and men were abroad who would gladly have snatched Hotspur as a rich prize, and borne him away where a great price he would have brought and none too many questions asked.
Sally gave the men a wide path, but one called, sharply:
"Halt! Who goes there? In the king's name, who art thou?"
Sally gave Hotspur a wild cut from the whip in her hand. The spirited creature stopped short, then reared so high that only by flinging her arms about his neck did the maid keep from being flung to the ground.
"Hotspur! Hotspur!" she cried in his ear, "go on, oh, go on!"
Aloud, she cried:
"Oh, wot Mars' Kendall, wot Mars' Hancocke do if we gets late!"
"Who are you?" cried another man, ridingnearer; and Sally wailed again about getting late.
"Stop your nonsense!" sung out another man, trying to get close enough to the still prancing Hotspur to clutch at the frail bridle.
Maid Sally made no mistake that time.
Raising her arm, she gave the man's horse a cut across his face, which set him jumping madly, putting the others into a panic also.
At the same moment, Sally cried in Hotspur's ear, "Go on, boy! Now, now, Hotspur, sh! sh!" And she patted his neck quickly but gently and pressed a foot against his side.
With one leap forward, Hotspur was off on a hot race that Sally could not control. She lay along his back, rolling from side to side, as Hotspur, his fierce blood now up, tore by bushes, trees, pounded over a little bridge, dashed up one hill, down another, and only yielded to Sally's soft calls as they came to a sleeping village and a clock struck three.
"I really haven't been one mite afraid," said the plucky maiden.
In another hour she felt that she ought to be near Farmer Hinds's. And she was glad to see a yoke of oxen lumbering along, a great covered wagon behind them. Judging by his appearance, a colored man walked beside them.
Furniture was piled in the wagon, and Sally easily guessed that a family were about to move, and a servant had been sent on before daybreak with some of the furniture.
"I say, Uncle," she called, pleasantly, "whar dat man Hinds have his farm?"
"Whar you get dat hoss?" was the reply.
"Whar dat Hinds live?" cried Sally.
"You bettah get off'n dat hoss," said the provoking old man.
A little thin, piping voice, somewhere between the truck in the wagon, suddenly arose:
"Just you keep right on, and purty soon you come to a hill, then a meet'n'-house, then a piece of river paff, and the Hindses farmlands lies right ahead in the woods."
Again it was a long stretch and a lonely way, but morning had dawned when Sally and herbrave steed reached a deep dell close to the Hinds farmlands.
Here she tied Hotspur by the bridle, and finding long saplings, she twisted them into the bridle on the other side and so made the horse fast as she could to a stout but slim tree.
Then she felt that the hardest part of all was before her.
"You must be brave," said her Fairy. "You are tired, and excited, but wide awake. Make no mistakes. Remember, Hotspur is close by. The Fairy Prince may yet reach his friends in good time. But beware. He is no doubt a prisoner. Be sharp!"