CHAPTER XXAT CROSS PURPOSES
It could not be considered an unpleasant place of imprisonment, yet it was useless for me to contrive any plans of immediate escape, for the door was securely locked, and two heavily armed dragoons sat within eying me rather malevolently. My attempt at approaching the window was instantly checked by a threatening gesture, and I sat down in the reading chair to await developments. They could not muffle my ears, however, and I heard the swift hoof-beats of an approaching horse being ridden furiously up the gravel driveway. At the door he was hastily checked, and a voice spoke peremptorily:
"Here you, take the rein!"
The fellow came up the steps hurriedly, almost ignoring the sentry at the door.
"I haven't time to stand here, you fool," he exclaimed roughly. "My uniform is pass enough. I wish to see Colonel Mortimer at once—at once." There was a pause, and then the same voice, and I recognized it now as Grant's beyond a doubt. "Ah,Colonel, what in God's name has happened here? I heard that you were out hunting us at Farrell's blacksmith shop, and came back as swiftly as I could ride. But I never suspected this. Who were the miscreants?"
"That is a question not yet answered, Captain Grant," replied Mortimer slowly. "It looks like the work of Pine Robbers. Do you recognize this fellow?"
"Ay," and from the muffled tone he must have been bending over the body, "that is 'Tough' Sims, a lieutenant of 'Red' Fagin; there's one more devil gone to hell. But when did the attack occur? We left here after dark, and all was quiet enough then. Claire—"
"She was here then? I hardly believed it possible."
"I talked with her—quarrelled with her, indeed. Perhaps that was why she refused to accompany us to Philadelphia. But what did you mean, Colonel, when you said you hardly believed it possible she was here? Did some one tell you?"
"Yes; we caught a fellow in the house when we arrived. He had no time for escape—rough-looking miscreant, claiming to be a Continental. We have him under guard in the library."
"He confessed to the whole story?"
"Not a word; claimed to know nothing except thatClaire was here. Said he saw you, and then went away, not getting back again until this morning."
"The fellow is a liar, Colonel. Let me see him; I'll lash the truth out of his lips. Where did you say he was—in the library?"
I had barely time to rise to my feet when he entered. His eyes swept across the guard, and then centred upon me. Instantly they blazed with excitement, although I noticed he took a sudden step backward in the first shock of surprise, his hand dropping to the butt of a pistol in his belt.
"By all the gods!" he exclaimed sharply. "If it isn't the spy! I miss the red jacket, but I know the face, Mister Lieutenant Fortesque."
"Major Lawrence, if you please," I returned quietly.
"We'll not quarrel over the name. I've had occasion to know you under both; bearing one you was a spy, beneath the other a leader of banditti. I'll hang you with equal pleasure under either." Suddenly he seemed to remember where we were, and his face flushed with newly aroused rage. "But first you'll explain what you are doing here at Elmhurst. Do you know whose home this is?"
"Most assuredly," determined not to lose my temper, or to be moved by his threats. "It is theproperty of Colonel Mortimer, of the Queen's Rangers."
"And—and you—you came here to again see—the daughter?" he questioned, as though half regretting the indiscretion of such a suspicion.
"Oh, no, Captain; you do the lady a grave injustice. I came here a prisoner, very much against my will, not even aware whose plantation this was. I had no suspicion that Mistress Mortimer was outside Philadelphia until I overheard your conversation with her."
"Overheard! You! In God's name, where were you—"
"In this room; with both doors ajar it was impossible not to hear. You spoke somewhat angrily, you may remember, not finding the lady as gracious in her reception as expected."
The sarcasm in my tone stung him, but the surprise was so great that he could only rip out an oath.
"I thought you would have also enjoyed swearing at that time," I continued coolly, "only you scarcely dared venture so far. You had previously boasted to me of your engagement to the lady, and it naturally was a surprise to observe how lovingly she greeted you—"
"Hell's acre!" he burst out. "Did the minx know you were there?"
"If you refer to Mistress Mortimer, I presume she suspected it. At least she came to me shortly thereafter."
"Then I understand better what troubled the girl. But, in God's name! how did you ever escape me? I was in every room of the house."
I smiled pleasantly. There was nothing for me to gain, or lose, by goading him, yet it was rather enjoyable.
"That, of course, I must naturally refuse to answer, Captain. I might need to resort to the same methods again."
"There will be small chance of your having opportunity. Mortimer will hang you fast enough when I tell my tale. Don't look for mercy at his hands, for he's prouder than Lucifer of his family honor."
He was out of the door, striding down the hall, bent on carrying out his purpose. I heard his voice asking where the Colonel was to be found; then the guard closed the barrier between us. Very well, of the two I would rather leave my fate to Mortimer than to him, and felt profoundly grateful that the Captain was not in command. Had he been I should doubtless have been hung without the slightest formality of trial, but Mortimer would at least hear my version first; indeed I could hardly believe he would issue so stringent orderswithout listening also to his daughter's story. I was an officer of rank; the consequences might prove rather serious were I to be executed summarily, and without proper trial. No matter how hot-headed Colonel Mortimer might be, on an occasion like this he would certainly require more convincing evidence than Grant's unsupported statement, before pronouncing such a sentence. In truth Grant possessed no facts, merely suspicions. He had reasons to believe me a spy, but there was not a paper on my body to confirm that suspicion, and my having been in apparent command of the minute men in their attack on Delavan's foragers was no license for hanging. That was an incident of war, and might have occurred in the direct performance of a soldier's duty. Altogether I was satisfied that Mortimer would merely hold me prisoner, reporting the affair to Clinton.
I had scarcely reasoned this out, however, when a corporal threw open the door, ordering my guard to conduct me into the Colonel's presence. I was taken to the parlor, where the furniture had been somewhat rearranged, and found myself confronting Mortimer, the officer I had heard addressed as Seldon, and Grant. The latter was speaking vehemently:
"I tell you, Colonel, this has got to be done; he is a spy, and here for some infamous purpose."
"Well, I've sent for the fellow, Grant; what more do you want? I'll give him five minutes in which to explain, and that is all. Seldon, have the men go on ahead along the trail."
"Yes, sir, they are off already."
"Very well. Have our horses outside; we can catch up within a mile or two." He wheeled sharply about, and looked at me sternly. "Well, sir, I have very little time to waste on you at present, but I advise truthful answers. What is your name?"
"Allen Lawrence."
"You claim to be in the Continental service—what rank?"
"Major in the Maryland Line, Maxwell's Brigade."
"Dressed hurriedly, probably, and forgot your uniform."
"I have lately been serving with the Jersey militia, sir, as Captain Grant can testify," I answered civilly.
"And Captain Grant is only too anxious," broke in that officer impatiently. "If you will listen to me, Colonel, I'll tell you what I know in two minutes or less. It will settle this fellow's status."
Mortimer glanced from my face to that of the speaker, evidently attracted by the vindictiveness of the voice.
"All right, Grant, go on," he said shortly, "only Ishall pass judgment as a soldier, and not because of any personal quarrel. What is it you know?"
"That this man came into Philadelphia three days ago dressed as an officer of British Infantry. He claimed to be Lieutenant Fortesque, of the 42nd Foot, with despatches from New York. Howe vouched for him, and furnished him with a pass and orderly. He put in the whole day studying the positions of our troops, and in the evening was a guest at the Mischianza—André gave him a card, I heard—and danced there with your daughter. I doubted the man from our first meeting, and later picked up certain rumors which convinced me he was a spy. Some words passed between us on the dancing floor, and as a consequence I asked the man to meet me below. Some one either told him he was suspected, or else he had the heart of a coward, for he failed to appear."
"Did you intend to fight him?"
"No; we planned an arrest. I reported to MacHugh what I had heard, and he had Carter close at hand with a squad of the guard."
"A very pretty trick on mere suspicion," commented the Colonel in some disgust. "But go on with your story."
Grant sucked in his breath quickly, evidently surprised at the remark.
"Claire was waiting for me upstairs in the dining-room, but after Carter had scattered his men to the outposts, I took a turn about the grounds in hope of thus running across the fellow. Luck favored me, but, damn him, he jumped into me like a fighting cock, struck me in the face, and taunted me into meeting him there and then."
"Good boy! the right stuff, eh, Seldon?"
"I supposed it all a bluff," went on Grant, paying no heed to the interruption, although his cheeks flushed, "but we went at it, behind the pavilion, and I had pricked him twice, when the guard came up and separated us. At that the fellow took to his heels, and, by Gad! got away—swam the Delaware, while we were beating the west shore. The next I saw of him he was in command of those ragamuffins who attacked us out yonder. Now he shows up here looting this house on the trail of 'Red' Fagin. I'd hang him offhand if it was me."
Mortimer looked across at me earnestly, but with an expression of doubt in his eyes. As for myself I hardly knew what to say, or do. Grant had no corroborative proof for his assertions, unless I was returned to Philadelphia. I could emphatically deny that I was the man, insist on my right to a fair trial. But how could I account in any reasonable way for mypresence at Elmhurst, or even successfully sustain my claim to being a Continental officer. I could not tell Colonel Mortimer that I had been taken prisoner by his daughter, masquerading as a lieutenant of dragoons. Apparently he knew nothing of this escapade, and she would scarcely forgive me for exposure; besides, for all I knew to the contrary, the girl might have thus been attempting to serve the Colonies, and a word of betrayal might seriously injure our cause. Of course this was merely conjecture, a wild guess, although there was one fact I could not ignore in this connection—she had twice defended me from capture, and I dare not bring any suspicion upon her. Then Grant had barely mentioned her name, in no way involving her in my escape. Whatever the result my lips were sealed. All this flashed over me before Mortimer spoke.
"Have you any proofs, sir, that you are an officer of Maxwell's brigade?"
"Not here," and I glanced down at my rough clothing, "yet with a little delay that could be easily ascertained."
"On what service are you in the Jerseys?"
"I must decline to answer."
"Were you in Philadelphia, wearing British uniform three days ago?"
"If I should say no, it would be merely my word against Captain Grant—you would doubtless prefer to believe him."
Grant whispered in his ear, the Colonel listening quietly.
"I am informed that you have already acknowledged being concealed in this house yesterday."
"I have, sir."
"Did any one know of your presence here?"
"I was brought here—a prisoner."
"What!" in decided surprise. "Prisoner to whom?"
"I was captured by three men, dressed as Queen's Rangers, on a road some miles to the west. They made no explanation, although I have some reason to believe I was mistaken for another. I was held in a strong room in the basement overnight."
"You were not there when I searched the house," broke in Grant hoarsely.
"No," and I turned and smiled at him. "I had been brought upstairs before you arrived."
"Then you saw your captors by daylight?"
"Two of them, yes—a man called Peter, and an Irish fellow, with chin beard."
"What!" and Mortimer started forward. "Peterand Mike in uniform! This is beyond belief. Were they alone?"
"They were apparently under the orders of a young lieutenant—the same who had command of Delavan's advance guard. I was unable to distinguish the lad's face."
"Delavan's advance guard!" and the Colonel turned toward Grant. "What do you know about this, sir? Who was he?"
The Captain hesitated, shifting uneasily on his feet.
"I—I do not know, sir," he explained finally, driven to answer. "I merely had a glimpse of the boy when I first joined the column. I—I thought I recognized him, but was not sure."
"Who did you suppose him to be?"
"Your son, Eric, sir."
CHAPTER XXIAGAIN THE CELLAR-ROOM
The father sank back in his chair, breathing heavily.
"Eric here, making use of this house, and my servants," he muttered. "I can scarcely believe it true. Was—was he here yesterday morning when you came?"
"I found no trace of his presence, sir."
There was a moment of silence, broken unexpectedly by the rustle of a dress. I turned in surprise, and saw Claire standing quietly in the doorway.
"Pardon me, gentlemen," she said softly, "but perhaps I can explain much of this mystery, and establish the identity of Major Lawrence."
Seldon sprang forward and offered her a chair, but she merely thanked him with a bow, and remained standing, her eyes upon her father. Not once had she even glanced toward either Grant or me, but I noticed the deep flush of color on cheek evidencing her excitement. What was she going to explain? How accountfor the strange actions of the past few days? How came she to be here at all? Would she confess the truth openly before us all, or would she feel justified in concealment? I could not, did not, doubt the honesty of the girl's intent, and yet was it possible for her to compel these men to accept her version of all which had occurred? Would she venture a falsehood to protect me, or to save herself?
"I—I have already explained much," I hastened to say, thinking she might wish to know.
"I overheard what has already been said," she returned quickly, but without looking toward me, "and appreciate the care with which my name has thus far been guarded. Now I am ready to make my own explanation."
"But, first, Claire," said her father soberly, "how does it happen you are here? We supposed you in the hands of 'Red' Fagin, and a squadron of my men are out now tracking the fellows."
"I was not in the house when they came, father; Peter and I were back of the stables, fortunately mounted. We were obliged to ride hard as we were chased several miles, and returned as soon as it appeared safe."
"And Eric?"
"He departed before Captain Grant arrived," shereplied unhesitatingly, "and must be already safe within his own lines."
"It was Eric, then?"
"Who else could it be? Surely Captain Grant told you as much."
The Colonel's eyes wandered about the little group, and his doubt and bewilderment were clearly evident.
"Do you know Eric's purpose in coming here? in presuming to act as an officer in Delavan's company?"
"He did not inform me, sir."
"You know this man?"
She turned, and looked at me for the first time, a silent plea in her blue eyes.
"I do—he is Major Lawrence of General Washington's army," her voice low, but distinct. "I have known him since the Continental troops were first quartered in Philadelphia."
I started slightly, yet as instantly recovered my outward composure, realizing that this strange girl again purposed protecting me from exposure, even at the expense of a falsehood.
"Indeed; you were doubtless aware then that he was within Sir Henry Clinton's lines as a spy?"
"Far from it," she laughed easily, not glancing toward me, but permitting her eyes to rest upon the bewildered face of Captain Grant. "Why, that idea isperfectly absurd. Did you tell my father so ridiculous a story, Captain?"
"Did I! What else could I say?" he growled indignantly. "He was within our lines in British uniform."
Her long lashes veiled the blue depths modestly.
"Yet there might be other reasons for such masquerade, gentlemen," she confessed. "Would it be impossible, think you, that he should have taken so great a risk to again meet with me?"
There was a silence following the simple question, broken by Seldon's laugh, as he slapped his knee in appreciation.
"Good enough, by Gad!" he exclaimed heartily. "The lass has cleared the mystery with a word. The fellow would be a poor soldier indeed to fail in such a test—eh, Grant?"
The Ranger scowled at him in sullen response, his face dark with passion.
"Hell's acre! This sort of thing may touch your humor, but not mine. What is the meaning of your words, Mistress Claire? Are you shameless, forgetting the pledge between us?"
She turned her face toward him as a queen might, her head held high, her cheeks flaming.
"You have had your answer once for all, Captain Grant. There is no pledge between us."
"But, daughter," broke in the Colonel, still bewildered by this sudden explosion. "I can scarcely comprehend; surely it was understood that you were affianced to this son of an old neighbor."
"Understood, yes, by those who kindly arranged the affair, but the fact that I might possess a heart of my own was entirely overlooked. As a child I permitted you to plan my future without protest. I am a woman now; I have been out in the world; the war has taken all girlhood from me. If this were not true the way Captain Grant has watched my every action in Philadelphia would have disgusted me with the thought of ever intrusting my happiness to him. He has openly quarrelled with every man I have spoken to, or danced with. He has made me the sport of all the city gallants by jealous wrangling. Now it is done with. 'Tis in shame that I am driven to say all this here in presence of these gentlemen, but I will not stand in silence while Major Lawrence is being condemned as a spy. He was at the dance to meet again with me, and for no other purpose."
Colonel Mortimer's face had expressed many emotions, while she was speaking, but now it hardened intomilitary severity, his hand clinched on the arm of the chair.
"Do I understand then that this officer was there at your request?"
"I think," hesitating slightly, "he knew he was not unwelcome."
"And," his voice breaking slightly, "he came here also to meet you?"
"Certainly not," her head lifting indignantly. "I am your daughter, and am guilty of nothing unworthy our family name. I have no shame to confess. Major Lawrence is an officer and a gentleman, the friend of Washington, and my friend also. At any other time he would be a welcome guest at our table. If he risked his life to meet with me in Philadelphia it was done openly and honorably in the midst of acquaintances. There has been nothing hidden or clandestine. He was brought to Elmhurst a prisoner, bound to his horse, guarded by armed men. In the morning I learned his identity, and at once had him released. That is all," and she gave a gesture with her hands, "and I trust, gentlemen, my explanation will be sufficient."
"And you warned him of my suspicions in Philadelphia," exclaimed Grant, "causing him to attack me, and then released him from arrest here."
"That is partially true; you endeavored to provokea quarrel the moment you met. I had no desire he should fall into your hands as a prisoner. When you appeared at this house I assisted his escape."
"But, Claire, how came you here? Why did you leave Philadelphia?"
"Because I have a brother, sir, whom I can only meet in secret," she replied quietly. "I came without thought of danger, for war has not cost us friends in this country; our home has remained until now untouched by vandals, and I felt amply protected by those who accompanied me upon the ride—our old house servants." She knelt at the side of his chair, her head bowed upon its arm, and his hand stroked her hair. "I regret if I have seemed unmaidenly, or done what you may deem wrong, father, for it has all seemed right to me."
The Colonel looked at us silently for what seemed a long while, his fingers fondling the tresses of the girl's hair.
"This situation leaves me in an embarrassing predicament," he admitted at last slowly. "I hardly know what is my duty either as a father, or an officer of the King. No matter what his purpose may have been this man penetrated our lines in disguise; he admittedly exercised command of those irregulars who attacked and routed Delavan's column, and has since been prowlingabout disguised as a countryman. Merely because my daughter confesses to a friendship between them can hardly justify me in setting him at liberty."
He paused, rising to his feet, his eyes on my face. The girl lifted her head, looking up at him.
"Major Lawrence, I shall hold you prisoner of war, referring your case to Sir Henry Clinton. In the meanwhile you shall receive every consideration possible in accordance with your rank. I am now going to join my men in pursuit of Fagin. Captain Grant, you will accompany me, and, Mr. Seldon, I shall leave you in charge of the prisoner until we return."
He took a step toward the door; then turned to his daughter.
"I shall expect you to be ready to ride with us on our return to Philadelphia, Claire," he said kindly. "It is evidently not safe for you to remain here alone."
"Very well, father."
"Come, Grant, we shall have to ride hard to overtake our men."
The captain started reluctantly, scowling at me as he passed.
"I should enjoy having the privilege of being left in charge here," he said, for my benefit.
"No doubt, sir," returned Mortimer coldly. "But I have already selected Mr. Seldon for that duty."
They left the house together, and I watched them ride past the window, followed by a dozen soldiers. As they disappeared Seldon turned his eyes to my face. He was rather a pleasant looking young man, but possessed an aggressive chin.
"While I have no orders to that effect, Major," he said quietly, "I would take the responsibility of accepting your parole."
"Are you not rather reckless?"
"Oh, I think not," smilingly. "I would have you give it to Mistress Mortimer—surely under those conditions you would never run away."
She stole a swift glance at me, shaking her head.
"That would be too strong an imprisonment," I responded instantly. "Under all conditions I prefer not to give my parole."
"Very well, sir," more stiffly, his geniality vanishing with my rather curt refusal. "Then I shall take all necessary precautions to prevent escape." He stepped aside to the hall door. "You may send two men in here, Ferguson."
They entered quietly, glancing about with some curiosity, but taking position on either side of me at Seldon's command. Claire stood beside the table in silence, her glance out the window. Only as we wheeled about to leave the room did her eyes meet mine. Thatswift glimpse beneath the dark lashes caused me to leave the room with swiftly beating heart. At the door I stole another glance backward but she had sunk into a chair, her face concealed in her hands. With Seldon ahead, and the two guards behind, I tramped down the stairs into the basement, and was again locked within the walls of the strong room.
As the lock clicked I sat down upon the bunk far from being disheartened. Fate had been playing strange pranks, but I was not left without hope, for I felt assured I had read correctly the swift message of those uplifted blue eyes. She had not wished me to accept parole; then there must be some plan of escape already formulated in her mind. It was clearly enough to her own interest for me to get safely away; otherwise she would necessarily have to appear before Clinton, and her testimony would scarcely pass unchallenged in presence of MacHugh and those others. To be sure she had told no direct falsehood; it amused me to recall how carefully she had chosen expression. I had attended the ball for no other purpose than to once again meet her, a fact of which she had taken the utmost advantage. Yet why? For what end was this daughter of a loyalist continually exposing herself in thus protecting me? Why was she sufficiently interested for so grave a sacrifice? I was not altogether devoid of conceit,but I could not persuade myself that affection prompted this action. We had met so briefly, always with me in the role of hunted fugitive, that it was impossible to conceive that love was the motive power of control. The thought even was almost preposterous; much as I should have rejoiced to believe it true the very ridiculousness of it caused me to smile bitterly. Perhaps her action had some connection with her brother—her protection of me might also protect him. There was a thread of mystery running through everything in which Eric's name continually figured. I had not seen him, was not even convinced he was in the Jerseys, yet this was the most natural explanation of these peculiar events; surely it was either Eric's safety she was battling for so heroically, or else she was at heart a pronounced patriot.
However, these thoughts helped me little, nor did contemplation of the surrounding stone walls inspire me to attempt escape. Already had I tested each separate stone, the solid oaken door, and the iron-barred windows. I could only wait quietly, striving to solve the meaning of those suddenly uplifted blue eyes, and the promise they contained.
CHAPTER XXIITHE LADY'S PLAN
I must have remained there an hour undisturbed, listening to faint sounds in the rooms above, and peering out between the iron bars at a little square of blue sky, and some waving tree branches. Once, with ear pressed against the door, I could distinguish the regular steps of a sentinel pacing back and forth, and out of the window I caught the silhouette of a cocked hat and brown gun barrel. Seldon was evidently guarding me with the utmost care.
By the light I judged the time somewhat beyond noon, when the door opened suddenly, and Peter appeared bearing a tray. He was as mysteriously silent and professional as upon his first visit, not even favoring me with a glance, his mind apparently intent upon his duties, moving about noiselessly, wiping the table, and placing his load of dishes thereon with great care that all should be arranged in perfect order. The door remained ajar during these preparations, a Queen's Ranger standing there motionless, leaning on his gun, and eying us steadily. At last Peter drew up a chair,dusted it, and with wave of the hand invited me to be seated. I ate as slowly as possible, while he stood over me, anticipating my every want. I endeavored to converse on commonplace topics, hoping thus to kill time, and possibly lead him to some word of guidance, but his answers were monosyllables, most respectfully uttered, and meaningless. As he passed back and forth about the table his face remained vacant of expression, his eyes devoid of intelligence. He might have been a wax figure, so mechanically did he operate, and the sentinel never for an instant relaxed his scrutiny.
I had picked up almost the last crumb, toying with it in desperation, when a voice spoke apparently from the head of the stair. The Ranger turned his head to answer, and at the instant a paper pellet was crushed into my hand. Instinctively my fingers closed over it, and as the guard turned back again, gruffly ordering us to hurry up, Peter was at the opposite side of the table gathering up the dishes, his bald head shining brilliantly, his eyes as dull as those of a fish. I leaned back watching him, clutching the paper pellet in the palm of one hand, until he passed out with his tray, and the door clicked behind him. Not once did he glance toward me, or acknowledge my presence. Fearful lest I might be spied upon, my heart beating wildly in anticipation,I lay down in the bunk with face to the wall, and unrolled the pellet. It contained but a few words, hastily scribbled, in a lady's delicate handwriting. "Don't despair; if they are away until after dark I will arrange. Can do nothing before." There was no signature, but I needed none to know whose fingers had held the pencil. My lips pressed the paper ere I tore it into fragments, and scattered them outside the bars.
The hours of that afternoon dragged themselves along with exasperating slowness, as I listened for hoof-beats, imagining every sound the approach of returning horsemen. With no longer any doubt of her intention, my apprehension riveted itself on the possibility of the British getting back before darkness gave opportunity for putting her plans into execution. As to what they might be I cared nothing, being ready to assume any risk which would lead to escape. The room I occupied must have been upon the west side of the house, as the afternoon sun streamed in through the bars, and stretched golden across the floor. I could almost count the minutes as those shafts of light crept up the wall, and then slowly faded. The silence all about was intense, even the branches of the trees without having no movement. As the gray of twilight approached, my ears, strained to the slightest sound, distinguished the changing of sentinels. But I waited vainly for anyvisitor; darkness closed me in, but no one came with food.
I pressed my face against the bars striving to look into the night, my only reward the glimpse of a few distant stars. Suddenly, as I stood there, voices sounded at a distance, the words indistinguishable, and then footsteps crushed along the gravelled footpath, as though a number of men were running toward the back of the house. They were below my range of vision, but a moment later I heard the sounds of scattered shots, and saw the sharp flash of firing. I was still clinging to the bars, trying to determine what it all meant, when the door was opened. The light of a lantern in his hand revealed a green and white uniform, and the deeply seamed face of a man of fifty.
"Quick now, yer damned rebel," he said hoarsely. "Be up an' lam me one, an' here's the rope."
"What!"
"Didn't yer hear? or wasn't yer told the game? Sufferin' Moses, it's got to be played swift, or ye'll lie here an' rot. That's what that bald-headed skate is out thar leadin' 'em off for. I'm ter come in wid yer supper; ye slug me first sight, bind me up wid the rope, and skip. 'Tis a dirty job, but the friends of ye pay well for it, so come on now."
I comprehended the plan in a flash. She had discovereda sentry money would buy; to lead the others away long enough to effect my escape, Peter had taken to the woods with a gun. Whether he escaped or was captured, the delay would be short. With the knowledge came action. I bore the unresisting Ranger to the floor, hurling down the tray of food he bore in a mass of broken crockery, and bound him hand and foot, leaving the fellow lying across the open doorway. He was without arms, except his heavy gun, which I left beside him. An instant I paused to ask a question, holding aloft the lantern so as to see his face.
"Now man, speak quick; you were given some word for me? Some instructions how I was to get away?"
"Sure; but ye drew those cords tight! You are to go up stairs, out the front door, and turn to the right; there's a horse in the thicket beyond the summer house. Damnation, loosen that ankle rope, will ye?"
I gave it a twitch, but felt little compassion for the fellow, and ran up the steps, leaving the lantern below. I knew the way even in the dark, and experienced little trouble in feeling my passage. I met with no interference, and heard no sound, the house seemingly deserted. Only as I opened the front door could I hear distant, irregular firing to the northwest. Assured that no guard remained I flung myself recklessly over the porch rail onto the smooth turf of the lawn. Thedim outlines of the latticed summer house could be discerned not thirty feet distant, and I started toward it unhesitatingly. I had made half the distance when a horse neighed suddenly to my right, and, startled at the sound, I fell flat, creeping cautiously forward into the shadow of a low bush. I had risen to my knees, believing the animal must be the one left there for my use, when I heard the growl of a voice, a man's voice, from out the summer house.
An instant I could not locate the sound nor distinguish it clearly; then a sentence cut the air so distinctly that I recognized the speaker. Grant! What was he doing here? Had we delayed too long? Had Fagin's pursuers returned? If so, why was he there in the summer house, and with whom was he conversing? I crouched back listening, afraid to move.
"I saw the gleam of your white skirt as I rounded the house," he exclaimed. "By Gad, I thought the horse was going to bolt with me. Fine bit of luck this, finding you out here alone. What's going on out yonder?"
"There was an attack on the horse guard, and Mr. Seldon is in pursuit. But how does it happen you have returned alone? Has anything occurred to my father?"
I judged from the sound that he seated himself beforeanswering, and there was a hesitancy sufficiently noticeable, so as to cause the girl to ask anxiously:
"He has not been injured?"
"Who, the Colonel!" with a short laugh. "No fear of that while pursuing those fellows; they ride too fast, and are scattered by now all the way from here to the Atlantic. Probably a squad of the same gang out there fighting Seldon. Trouble with the Colonel is he takes the affair too seriously; imagines he is actually on the trail, and proposes to remain out all night. I became tired of such foolishness and rode back."
"You mean you left? Deserted?"
"Oh, hardly that," lazily. "You see I was sent out with a detachment to ride down the Lewiston road. I merely left my sergeant in command and turned my horse's head this way. I can be back by morning, and I wanted to see you."
"To see me, Captain Grant! You disobeyed my father's orders to ride back and see me? I hardly appreciate the honor."
"Oh, I suppose not," his tone grown suddenly bitter. "But I am here just the same, and propose carrying out my intention. What do you think I am made of—wood? You treat me as though I possessed no feelings to be hurt. See here, Claire, don't draw away from me like that. What has got into you lately? You haveled me a merry chase all winter in Philadelphia, but now you have even dared to flaunt me to my face, and in the presence of your father. Do you suppose I am the kind to stand for that? What is the matter, girl? Who has come between us? Is it that rascally rebel? No; you stay where you are, and answer me. That is what I came back alone for, to find out."
She was upon her feet, and I could even see her hand clasping a lattice of the summer house.
"Why do you ask this? What right have you? There was never a promise between us."
"The understanding has existed for ten years; never denied until now," he protested hotly. "You knew I loved you; I've fought a dozen men on your account—"
"True enough," she broke in, "you have challenged every gentleman who has dared address me. Did you think such swash-buckling was going to win my heart? Any girl possessing self-respect would revolt at such methods. Whatever affection I may have felt for you as a boy has been driven from me by these actions. You wanted a slave, a servant, not a companion, and it is not in Mortimer blood to yield to every whim, to every crack of the whip. I never loved you, never confessed I did. I tried to be obedient, endeavored to like you to please my father, but this past winter has sothoroughly revealed your real character that I will pretend no longer."
"My character! We have known each other from childhood. I know well enough what has made the difference in you."
"Indeed!"
"Yes, indeed; it's that damned Continental spy."
"It has been some one all along according to your theory—any gentleman who has shown me ordinary kindness. You have called out Captain Kincade, Lieutenant Mathieson, Major Lang, and others, just to prove your ownership of me. You have made me the laughingstock of Philadelphia. Now it pleases you to select Major Lawrence with which to associate my name. Because he danced with me once you felt justified in quarrelling with him in my presence, in goading him into fighting you. It was the act of a cowardly bully. Whatever respect I may once have had for you, Captain Grant, has been dissipated this past winter."
"Can you tell me it is not Lawrence?"
"I could tell you, and very plainly, but I refuse to be questioned."
"Well, by Gad! I know without asking," and he sprang to his feet, gripping her hand. "You've helped that fellow against me from the first. I'll put up with it no longer. I came back here to-night desperate,prepared to resort to any measures. I meant to give you a chance, and, by heaven! I have. Do you think I am the sort of man you can play with? If I can have you only by force then it is going to be that. Oh, don't try to pull away! I've got you now just as I wanted you—alone! Your father is not here, and that fool Seldon is busy enough out yonder. There is not even a guard to interfere. Do you know what I mean to do?"
She made no answer, but her very silence seemed to fan his anger.
"Sulky, are you! Well, I'll tell you just the same. There's a preacher living at the crossroads—you know him, that snivelling, long-faced Jenks. He's a ranting rebel all right, but he'll do what I say, or I'll cut his heart out. You are going there with me to-night to be married. I'll put an end to these tantrums, and by to-morrow you'll have come to your senses. Now will you go quietly, or shall I make you?"
She wrenched away from him; there was a moment's struggle, and then her white-robed figure sprang forth into the starlight. I saw him grasp her, tearing the shoulder of her dress with the fierce grip of his fingers. I was already upon my feet, crouching behind the bush, prepared to spring. She drew back, her face white as marble.
"You coward! You cur!"
"Hold your temper, Mistress," with a snarling laugh. "I know how to conquer you."
That moment I reached him.
CHAPTER XXIIIWORDS OF LOVE
In spite of the fact that he was armed the advantage was all with me. His grip on the girl dragged her to the ground with him, but she rolled aside as we grappled like two wild beasts, my fingers at his throat. I knew the strength of the man, but my first blow had sent his brain reeling, while the surprise of my unexpected assault gave me the grip sought. He struggled to one knee, wrenching his arms free, but went down again as my fist cracked against his jaw. Then it was arm to arm, muscle to muscle, every sinew strained as we clung to each other, striving for mastery. He fought like a fiend, gouging and snapping to make me break my hold, but I only clung the closer, twisting one hand free, and driving my fist into his face. At last I gripped his pistol, wrenched it forth, and struck with the butt. He sank back, limp and breathless, and I rose to my knees looking down into the upturned face. Almost at the moment her hand touched my shoulder.
"Is he dead? Have you killed him?"
"Far from it," I answered gladly. "He is merelystunned, and will revive presently, but with a sad headache. I would not have hit him, but he is a stronger man than I."
"Oh, you were justified. It was done to protect me. I knew you must be somewhere near."
"You were waiting for me?"
"Yes—no; not exactly that. I was in the summer house; I did not mean you should see me, but I wished to be sure of your escape; I—I—of course I was anxious."
"I can easily understand that, for you have assumed much risk—even ventured the life of the devoted Peter."
"Oh, no; you rate my devotion too high by far. Peter's life has not been endangered."
"But the guard told me he was the direct cause of all that firing beyond the ravine."
The starlight revealed the swift merriment in her eyes.
"I—I—well, I believe he was originally responsible, but—well, you see I know Peter, Major Lawrence, and really there is no danger that he will get hurt. I cannot imagine what they could have found to fire at so long, but it is certainly not Peter. 'Twould be my guess that he is even now in the house, calmly eating supper, not even wasting a smile on the racket without.You may have observed he is not of an emotional disposition."
"My attention has, indeed, been called to that fact. Yet that does not explain how he could be in two places at one and the same time."
"Nothing that Peter pleases to do is explainable. His ways are not our ways, nor his thoughts our thoughts. He is simply Peter. He started all this, but was never in front of those guns long. They must be shooting at shadows. But, Major, we forget where we are, the perils about us, and the necessity of your immediate escape. We must not stand talking here."
She was close beside me, looking up into my face, her eyes filled with anxiety. Grant lay motionless upon the grass, a mere darker shadow. To linger there, however strong the temptation, was to expose her to even greater peril. Already Seldon's men must be returning toward the house. There were words upon my lips I longed to speak, questions I desired to ask, but I held these sternly back, restrained by the pleading in those eyes.
"No, for your sake I must go at once," I answered soberly. "Seldon must not find you here, nor must Grant suspect your connection with my assault upon him. I doubt if he recognized my face in this darkness, although he will surely realize the truth when he learnsof my escape. But how can I leave you here unprotected? When this man returns to consciousness—and that can mean but a few moments—he will be furious."
"I shall be safe enough. He will have no opportunity to find me alone again. To-night I had no conception that he was near, and was not even armed. I—I have been afraid of him for months; he has acted like a crazed man. But you must go!" She caught my arm, urging me toward the thicket where the horse was concealed; then suddenly paused with a new thought. "Take his hat and coat," she whispered swiftly. "There are British patrols between here and the Delaware. Quick, and I will have your horse untied."
I did as directed, feeling the value of the suggestion, and, a moment later, to all appearance an officer of Queen's Rangers, slipped through the thicket of trees, and took the reins from her hands.
"You will go straight back into the house?"
"Yes," she said obediently; then extended her hand. "Good-bye, Major Lawrence. I suppose this ends our acquaintance."
"Not if I can avoid such a fate," I replied, holding her fingers closely. "If I believed that I am not sure but I would return to the cell. It has been a strangeintimacy into which we have been thrown; three days have made us old friends. Surely you cannot believe me so ungrateful as your words would seem to imply."
"But I deserve no gratitude," making no effort to draw away, yet looking into my face frankly. "Perhaps you have misunderstood. Is it not possible for the women of these Colonies to sacrifice as well as the men in the cause of patriotism? You must not believe that I have done this merely for your sake, Major Lawrence."
"Yet I would like to believe so," I insisted warmly. "You are the daughter of a loyalist."
"And Eric is the son of a loyalist," laughingly, "and wears a Continental uniform. I am not privileged to go so far, restrained by the limitations of sex, yet I may be equally a rebel."
"Which would seem to mean that all your kindness toward me would have been similarly given to any patriot soldier."
"Why—why, yes; I—I think so."
"And I do not, Mistress Claire; I refuse to so believe." Her eyes flashed up at me, and I lost all restraint in their swift challenge. "I am going to speak—just a word, yet I must give it utterance before I ride out into the dark, away from you. I love you. It makes no difference to me where your sympathies maybe in this struggle, you have won my heart. Look up, dear, and listen. I am going back to the camp, back to the campaign. I know not what the night, what the morrow may bring. But I know forever I love you, and that if I live I shall surely come back. Will you be glad? Will you promise me welcome?"
I could feel her tremble, yet there was no shrinking in her face, no alarm.
"Oh, why were you compelled to say that! I tried so hard not to let you. I—I cannot make the promise, it would not be right."
"Not right!"
"No, you do not know me. I told you before I was a sham, a fraud, not what I appeared to be. I will not explain even to you, and you must not ask me. Only it hurts me to hear you say what you have, and be compelled to return this answer."
"You care then—you do not disguise that?"
She threw her head back proudly, making no attempt to withdraw her hands.
"Yes, I care; any woman would. It is not true that I have served you merely because you were a soldier of the Colonies. I think it was true, perhaps, at first, but—but later it was different. Oh! why do I say this! Why do I delay your departure by consenting to remain here in conversation! Major Lawrence,cannot you realize that my only desire is to have you get away safely?"
"But that is not my only desire," I protested. "It must be weeks, months, before I can hope to see you again. I am a servant of the Colonies, and must go where I am sent; we are upon the verge of a campaign involving exposure and battle. I may not even come forth alive. Must I go without a word, without a hope? Claire, Claire, sweetheart, you have no right to turn me away, because of some phantom of imagination—"
"But it is not, it is terribly real."
"I care not; I would still love you in spite of all; you may be a spy—a British spy—but the fact would mean nothing to me. I would trust you, Claire, your womanhood; I should know that whatever you did was in accordance with your conscience, and be content—if you but love me. And, thank God! I know you do."
"I—I—no! You cannot mean that!"
"Ay, but I do. Have you supposed I could not read the message of those eyes? Oh, it may be dark, dear, but there is a star-gleam, and when the lashes lift—they confess a thousand times more than your lips acknowledge. Yet I insist on the lips! Now tell me," and I held her to me, "tell me!"
"What—oh, Major, please!"
"There are but three words to speak; whisper them, dear, and I go."
"Three words!"
"Such easy words; they are trembling on your lips now—I love you."
"But if I do not; if they are false. Hush! There is some one on the veranda—Seldon must have returned."
"All the more reason why you should speak quickly," I whispered, without releasing her.
"Will you go, then? At once?"
"I pledge my word."
She drew a deep breath, her eyes shadowed, but I could hear the swift pulsing of her heart.
"It—it will mean nothing—nothing."
"Of course; only a memory to dream over."
Her lashes lifted, her head tilted back upon my shoulder. For a bare instant I gazed down into the depths.
"Then—then I will—I love you!"
With the words I kissed her, pressing my lips to hers; an instant they clung, and I felt the pressure of her arm, the hot blood rioting through my veins.
"Sweetheart," I whispered, "sweetheart."
"No, no!" and she thrust me from her. "You forget. I am not that. You must not think it even.See, that man is coming down the steps. He will discover Captain Grant, and it will be too late—Oh, go, Major, please go!"
I turned without another word, fully realizing the danger, the necessity of action. Her hand touched mine as I grasped the rein.
"We part friends," she said softly. "Some day you may understand and forgive me."
"I understand now more than you think," I returned swiftly, "and I am coming back to learn all."