The spy a tale of the neutral ground |
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| 7. | CHAPTER VII. |
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 | CHAPTER VII. The spy |  |
7. CHAPTER VII.
Her spirits now no more are gay!
Alas! that beauty cannot last!
That flowers so sweet so soon decay!
How sad appears
The vale of years,
How chang'd from youth's too flattering scene!
Where are her fond admirers gone?
Alas! and shall there then be none
On whom her soul may lean?”
Cynthia's grave.
The torrent and the blast can mar the loveliest
scenes in nature;—war, with his ruthless hand
may rival the elements in their work of destruction—but
it is passion alone that can lay waste the
human heart. The whirlwind and the floor have
duration in their existence, and have bounds to
their fury; the earth recovers from the devastation
of the conflict with a fertility that seems enriched
by the blood of its victims.—But there are
feelings that no human agency can limit, and mental
wounds that surpass the art of man to heal.
For some years Sarah Wharton had indulged in
contemplations on the person and character of
Wellmere, that were natural to her sex and situation;
and now, when these transient recollections
were become permanent from security, and she
looked forward to the moment that she was to
take the most momentous step of her life, with that
engrossing passion which marks a woman's love,
the discovery of his real character was a blow too
been seen, that her first indications of returning life,
were unaccompanied by a consciousness of what
had so recently occurred, nor did her friends, on
receiving her from the arms of the trooper, recover
more than the lovely image of her whom they
had once known.
The walls of the cottage were all that was
left of the building, and these, blackened by
smoke and stripped of their piazzas and ornaments,
served only as dreary memorials of the
peaceful contentment and security that had so lately
reigned within. The roof, together with the rest
of the wood-work, had tumbled into the cellars,
and a pale and flitting light ascending from their
embers, shone faintly through the windows on objects
in the lawn. The early flight of the Skinners
left the dragoons at liberty to exert themselves
in saving much of the furniture from the
flames, and this lay scattered in heaps, giving the
finishing touch of desolation to the scene. Whenever
a stronger ray of light than common shot upwards,
the composed figures of sergeant Hollister
and his associates, sitting on their horses in rigid
discipline, were to be seen in the back ground of
the picture, together with the beast of Mrs. Flanagan,
that having slipt its bridle, was quietly grazing
by the highway. Betty herself had advanced
to where the sergeant was posted, and with an incredible
degree of composure, witnessed the whole
of the events as they occurred. More than once
she suggested to her companion the probability,
as the fighting seemed to be over, that the proper
time for plunder was arrived, but the veteran
promptly acquainted her with his orders, and remained
both inflexible and immoveable; until the
washerwoman noticing Lawton to come round the
wing of the building with Sarah, ventured by herself
amongst the warriors. The trooper, after
the building by two of his men, refired with delicacy,
that the ladies might succeed him in his care,
and in order to reflect on what further was necessary
to be done. Miss Peyton and her niece flew,
with a rapture that was blessed with a momentary
forgetfulness of all but her preservation, to receive
Sarah from the trooper, but the vacant eye and
flushed cheek, restored them instantly to their recollection.
“Sarah, my child, my beloved niece.” said the
spinster, folding her in her arins, “you are saved,
and may the blessing of God await him who has
been the instrument.”
“See,” said Sarah, gently pushing her aunt
aside, and pointing to the glimmering ruins, “the
windows are illuminated in honour of my arrival.
They always receive a bride thus—he told me so;
listen, and you will hear the bells.”
“Here is no bride, no rejoicing, nothing but
woe,” cried Frances, in a manner but little less
frantic than that of her sister; “Oh! may heaven
restore you my sister to us—to yourself.”
“Peace, foolish young woman,” said Sarah,
with a smile of affected pity, “all cannot be happy
at the same moment; perhaps you have no
brother, or no husband to console you; you look
beautiful, and will yet find one, but,” she continued,
dropping her voice to a whisper, “see
that he has no other wife—'tis dreadful to think
what might happen should he be twice married.”
“The shock has destroyed her mind,” said
Miss Peyton, shaking with apprehension, and
clasping her hands in agony, “my child, my beauteous
Sarah is a maniac.”
“No, no, no,” cried Frances, “it is fever—
she is light-headed----she must recover—she shall
recover.”
The aunt caught joyfully at the hope conveyed
in this suggestion, and despatched Katy to request
the immediate aid and advice of Dr. Sitgreaves.
The operator was found enquiring among the men
for professional employment, and inquisitively examining
every bruise and scratch that he could
induce the sturdy warriors to acknowledge they
had received. A summons of the sort conveyed
by Katy was instantly obeyed, and not a minute
elapsed before he was by the side of Miss Peyton.
“This is a melancholy termination to so joyful
a commencement of the night. Madam,” he observed,
with a soothing manner; “but war must bring
its attendant miseries, though doubtless it often
supports the cause of liberty, and improves the
knowledge of surgical science.”
Miss Peyton could make no reply, but pointed
to her niece in agony.
“ 'Tis fever,” answered Frances, “see how
glassy is her eye, and look at her cheek, how
flushed.”
The surgeon stood for a moment deeply studying
the outward symptoms of his patient, and then
silently took her hand into his own. It was seldom
that the hard and abstracted features of the
operator discovered any violent emotion; all his
passions seemed schooled to the most classical dignity,
and his countenance did not often betray
what his heart so frequently felt. In the present
instance, however, the eager gaze of the aunt and
sister soon detected the emotions of Sitgreaves.
After laying his fingers for a minute on the beautiful
arm, which, bared to the elbow, and glittering
with jewels, Sarah suffered him to retain, he
dropped it with a heavy sigh, and dashing his hand
over his eyes, turned sorrowfully to Miss Peyton
as he said---
“Here is no fever to excite—'tis a case, my
dear madam, for time and care only; these, with
the blessing of God, may effect a cure.”
“And where is the wretch who has caused this
ruin,” exclaimed Singleton, rejecting the support
of his man, and making an effort to rise from the
chair where the care of his sister had placed him.
“It is in vain that we overcome our enemies, if conquered
they can still inflict such wounds as this.”
“Dos't think foolish boy,” said Lawton with a
bitter smile, “that hearts can feel in a colony?
What is America but a satellite of England—to
move as she moves, follow where she wists, and
shine that the mother country may become more
splendid by her radiance. Surely you forget that
it is honour enough for a colonist to receive ruin
from the hand of a child of Britain.”
“I forget not that I wear a sword,” said Singleton,
falling back exhausted; “but was there no
willing arm ready to avenge that lovely sufferer—
to appease the wrongs of this hoary father.”
“Neither arms nor hearts are wanting, sir, in
such a cause,” said the trooper fiercely; “but
chance oftentimes helps the wicked. By heavens,
I'd give Roanoke himself for a clear field with the
miscreant.”
“Nay! captain dear, no be parting with the
horse, any way,” said Betty, with a significant
look; “it is no trifle that can be had by jist asking,
and the baste is sure of foot and jumps like a
squirrel.”
“Woman!” cried Lawton, “fifty horses, ay, the
best that were ever reared on the banks of the
Potomac, would be but a paltry price for one blow
at such a villain.”
“Come.” said the surgeon, “the night air can
do no service to George or these ladies, and it is
incumbent on us to remove them where they
Here is nothing but smoking ruins and the miasma
of the swamps.”
To this rational proposition, no objection could
be raised, and the necessary orders were issued
by Lawton to remove the whole party to the Four
Corners.
America furnished but few and very indifferent
carriage makers at the period of which we
write, and every vehicle that in the least aspired
to the dignity of patrician notice, was the
manufacture of a London mechanic. When Mr.
Wharton left the city, he was one of the very few
that maintained the state of a carriage in his establishment,
and at the time that Miss Peyton and
his daughters joined him in his retirement, they
had been conveyed to the cottage in the heavy
chariot that had once so imposingly rolled through
the windings of Queen Street, or emerged with
sombre dignity into the more spacious drive of
Broadway. This vehicle stood undisturbed where
it had been placed on its arrival, and the ages of
the horses had alone protected the favourites of
Cæsar from sequestration, by the contending forces
in their neighbourhood. With a heavy heart
the black, assisted by a few of the dragoons, proceeded
to prepare it for the reception of the ladies.
It was a cumbrous vehicle, whose faded
linings and tarnished hammercloths, together with
its pannels of changing colour, denoted the want
of that art which had once given it lustre and
beauty. The “lion couchant” of the Wharton
arms, was reposing on the reviving splendour of a
blazonry that told the armorial bearings of a prince
of the church, and the mitre that already began
to shine through its American mask, was a symbol
of the rank of its original owner. The chaise
which conveyed Miss Singleton was also safe, for
the flames; it certainly had been no part of the
plan of the marauders to leave so well appointed
a stud behind them, but the suddenness of the attack
by Lawton, not only disconcerted their
arrangement on this point, but on many others
also. A guard was left on the ground under the
command of Hollister, who having discovered that
his enemy was of mortal mould, took his position
with admirable coolness and no little skill, to
guard against surprise. He drew off his small
party to such a distance from the ruins, that it was
effectually concealed in the darkness, while at the
same time the light continued sufficiently powerful
to discover any one, who might approach the
lawn with an intent to plunder.
Satisfied with this judicious arrangement, Capt.
Lawton made his dispositions for the march: Miss
Peyton and her two nieces with Isabella, were placed
in the chariot, while the cart of Mrs. Flanagan
being amply supplied with blankets and a bed, was
honoured with the persons of Capt. Singleton and
his man. Dr. Sitgreaves took charge of the chaise
and Mr. Wharton, and what became of the rest of
the family during that eventful night is unknown;
for Cæsar, alone, of the domestics, was to be found,
if we except the house keeper. Having disposed of
the whole party in this manner, Lawton gave the
word to march. He remained himself for a few
minutes alone on the lawn, secreting various pieces
of plate and other valuables, that he ws fearful
might tempt the cupidity of his own men; when
perceiving nothing more that he conceived likely
to overcome their honesty, he threw himself into
the saddle, with the soldierly intention of bringing
up the rear.
“Stop, stop.” cried a female voice, “will you
leave me alone to be murdered; the spoon is
there's law or justice in the land.”
Lawton turned an enquiring eye in the direction
of the sound, and perceived a female emerging
from the ruins, loaded with an enormous bundle,
that vied in size with the renowned pack of the
pedlar.
“Who have we here?” said the trooper, “rising
like a phœnix from the flames; oh! by the
soul of Hippocrates, but it is the identical she-doctor
of famous needle reputation. Well, good
woman, what means this outcry?”
“Outcry!” echoed Katy, panting for breath;
“is it not disparagement enough to lose a silver
spoon, but I must be left alone in this dreary place
to be robbed, and perhaps murdered? Harvey
would not serve me so; when I lived with Harvey
I was always treated with respect at least, if he
was a little close with his secrets, and wasteful
with his money.”
“Then you once formed part of the household,
Madam, of Mr. Harvey Birch?”
“You may say I was the whole of his household,”
returned the other; “there was nobody but
I and he, and the old gentleman; you did'nt know
the old gentleman, did you?”
“That happiness was denied me,” said Lawton,
“but how long did you live in the family of this
Birch?”
“I disremember the precise time,” said Katy,
“but it must have been hard on upon nine years,
but what better am I for it all?”
“Sure enough, I can see but little benefit that
you have derived from the association truly. But
is there not something odd in Mr. Birch?”
“Odd indeed,” replied Katy, lowering her voice
and looking around her; “he was a wonderful
disregardful man, and minded a guinea no more
way of joining Miss Jeanette, and I will tell you
prodigies of what Harvey has done first and last.”
“You will!” exclaimed the trooper, musing,
“here, give me leave to feel your arm above the
elbow---there---it is no small matter of bone that
you have, I see.” So saying he gave the spinster
a sudden whirl that at once destroyed her philosophy
of mind, and effectually confused all her faculties,
until she found herself safely if not comfortably
seated on the crupper of Lawton's steed.
“Now, Madam, you have the consolation of
knowing that you are as well mounted as heart
can wish. The nag is sure of foot, and will leap
like a panther.”
“Let me get down,” cried Katy, struggling to
release herself from his iron grasp, and yet afraid
of falling; “this is no way to put a woman on a
horse, besides I can't ride without a pillion.”
“Softly, good madam,” said Lawton; “for although
Roanoke never falls before, he sometimes
rises behind. He is far from being accustomed to
a pair of heels beating upon his flanks like a drummajor
on a field day—a single touch of the spur
will serve him for a fortnight, and it's by no
means wise to be kicking in this manner, for he is
a horse that but little likes to be outdone.”
“Let me down, I say,” screamed Katy, “I
shall fall and be killed. Besides, I have nothing to
hold on with, my arms are full, don't you see.”
“True,” returned the trooper, observing that
he had brought bundle and all from the ground,
“I perceive that you belong to the baggage guard;
but my sword-belt will encircle your little waist
as well as my own.”
Katy was too much pleased with this compliment
to make any resistance while he buckled
her close to his own Herculean frame, and driving
a rapidity that defied further denial. After trotting
on for some time, at a rate that discomposed the
spinster vastly, they overtook the cart of the washerwoman
driving slowly over the stones, with a proper
consideration for the wounds of Capt. Singleton.
The occurrences of that eventful night had produced
an excitement in the young soldier, that
was followed by the ordinary lassitude of re-action,
and he lay carefully enveloped in blankets, and
supported by his man, but little able to converse,
though deeply brooding over the past. The dialogue
between Lawton and his companion,
ceased with the commencement of their motions,
but a foot pace being more favourable to speech,
the trooper began anew—
“Then you have been an inmate in the same
house with Harvey Birch?”
“For more as nine years,” said Katy, drawing
her breath, and rejoicing greatly that their speed
was abated.
The deep tones of the trooper's voice, were
soon convey'd by the night air to the ears of the
washerwoman, and turning her head, where she
sat directing the movements of her mare, she
heard both question and answer.
“Belike then, good woman, yee'r knowing
whether or no he's a-kin to Beelzeboob,” said
Betty; “it's Sargeant Hollister who's saying the
same, and no fool is the sargent, any way.”
“It's a scandalous disparagement,” cried Katy,
most vehemently, “there's no kinder soul than
Harvey that carries a pack; and for a gownd or a
tidy apron, he will never take a King's farthing
from a friend. Belzebub indeed! For what would
he read the bible if he had bealings with the evil
spirit?”
“He's an honest divil, any way, as I was saying
before,” returned Betty; “the guinea was
pure. But then the sargeant thinks him amiss,
and it's no want of larning that Mister Hollister
has.”
“He's a fool,” said Katy tartly. “Harvey moutht
be a man of substance, but he's so disregardful.
How often have I told him, that if he did nothing
but peddle, and would put his gains to use, and
get married, so that things at home could be kept
snug and tidy, and leave off his dealings with the
rig'lars and all sich incumberments, that he would
soon be an excellent liver. Sergeant Hollister
would be glad to hold a candle to him, I guess,
indeed.”
“Pooh!” said Betty, in her philosophical way;
“yee'r no thinking that Mister Hollister is an officer,
and stands next the cornet in the troop.
But this pedlar gave warning of the brush, the
night, and it's no sure, that Captain Jack would
have got the day, but for the rinforcement.”
“How say you, Betty,” cried the trooper,
bending forward on his saddle, “had you notice
of our danger from this said Birch?”
“The very same, darling; and it's hurry I was
till the boys was in motion—not but I knew yee'r
enough for the cow-boys, any time. But wi'd
the divil on your side, I was sure of the day. I'm
only wondering there's so little plunder in a business
of Beelzeboob's contriving.”
“I'm obliged to you for the rescue,” said Lawton,
“and equally indebted to the motive.”
“Is it the plunder? But little did I think of it,
till I saw the moveables on the ground, some burnt
and some broke, and other some as good as new.
It would be convanient to have one feather bed
in the corps, any way.”
“By heavens, 'twas timely succour. Had not
Roanoke been swifter than their bullets, I must
have fallen. The animal is worth his weight in
gold.”
“It's continental you mane, darling. Goold
weighs heavy, and is no plenty in the States. If
the nagur had'nt been staying and frighting the
sargeant with his copper-coloured looks, and a
matter of blarney 'bout ghosts, we should have
been in time to have killed all the dogs, and taken
the rest prisoners.”
“It is very well as it is, Betty,” said Lawton;
“a day will yet come, I trust, when these miscreants
will be rewarded—if not in judgments
upon their persons, at least in the opinions of their
fellow citizens. The time must arrive when
America will learn to distinguish between a patriot
and a robber.”
“Speak low,” said Katy; “there's some who
think much of themselves that have doings with
the skinners.”
“It's more they are thinking of themselves then,
than other people thinks of them,” cried Betty;
a thief's a thief, any way, whether he stales for
King George or for Congress.”
“I knew that evil would soon happen,” said
Katy; “the sun set to-night behind a black cloud,
and the house-dog whined, although I gave him
his supper with my own hands; besides, it's not a
week sin I dreamed that dream about the thousand
lighted candles, and the cakes being burnt
in the oven. Miss Peyton said it was all because
I had the tallow melted to dip the next day, and
a new baking set; but I know'd better nor that
from the beginning.”
“Well,” said Betty, “it's but little I drame,
any way—jist keep an asy conscience and a plenty
of the stuff in yee, and yee'l sleep like an infant.
thistle-tops in the blankets, and then I was thinking
that Captain Jack's man was currying me
down, for the matter of Roanoke: but it's no trifle
I mind either in skin or stomach.”
“I'm sure,” said Katy, with a stiff erection that
drew Lawton back in his saddle, “no man should
ever dare to lay hands on any bed of mine—it's
indecent and despisable conduct.”
“Pooh! pooh!” cried Betty; “if you tag after
a troop of horse, a small bit of a joke must be
borne: what would become of the states and
liberty if the boys had never a clane shirt or a
drop to comfort them? Ask Captain Jack there, if
they'd fight, Mrs. Beelzeboob, and they no clane
linen to keep the victory in.”
“I'm a single woman, and my name is Haynes,”
said Katy, “and I'd thank you to use no disparaging
terms when speaking to me; it's what I isn't
use to, and Harvey is no more of Beelzebub nor
yourself.”
“You must tolerate a little license in the
tongue of Mrs. Flanagan, madam,” said the
trooper; “the drop she speaks of is often of an
extraordinary size, and then she has acquired the
freedom of a soldier's manner.”
“Pooh! captain, darling,” cried Betty, “why
do you bother the woman—talk like yeerself,
dear, and it's no fool of a tongue that yee've got
in yee'r own head. But it's here away that the
sargeant made a halt, thinking there might be
more divils than one stirring, the night. The
clouds are as black as Arnold's heart, and deuce
the star is there a twinkling among them. Well,
the mare is used to a march after night-fall, and is
smelling out the road like a pointer slut.”
“It wants but little to the rising moon,” observed
the trooper. He called a dragoon who was
cautions relative to the comfort and safety of Singleton,
and speaking a consoling word to his friend
himself, gave Roanoke the spur, and dashed by
the cart at a rate that again put to flight all the
philosophy of Katharine Haynes.
“Good luck to yee for a free rider and a bold,”
shouted the washerwoman as he passed, “if yee'r
meeting Mister Beelzeboob, jist back the baste
up to him and show him his consort that yee've
got on the crupper. I'm thinking it's no long he'd
tarry to chat. Well, well, it's his life that we saved,
he was saying himself—though the plunder
is nothing to signify.”
The cries of Betty Flanagan were too familiar
to the ears of Captain Lawton to cause any alteration
in the gait of his steed, or to elicit a reply.
Notwithstanding the unusual burden that Roanoke
sustained, he got over the ground with great rapidity,
and the distance between the cart of Mrs.
Flanagan and the chariot of Miss Peyton, was
passed in a manner that, however it answered the
intentions of the trooper, in no degree contributed
to the comfort of his companion. The meeting
occurred but a short distance from the quarters of
Lawton, and at the same instant the moon broke
from behind a mass of clouds that hovered over
the horizon, and threw a light upon objects that
seemed paler than usual after the glaring brightness
of the conflagration. There is, however, a
sweetness in moonlight that no competition of art
can equal, and Lawton checked his horse, and
mused in silence for the remainder of the ride.
Compared with the simple elegance and substantial
comfort of the Locusts, the “Hotel Flanagan”
presented but a dreary spectacle. In the
place of carpeted floors and curtained windows,
were the yawning cracks of a rudely constructed
applied to supply the place of the green glass
in more than half the lights. The care of Lawton
had anticipated every improvement that their
situation would allow, and blazing fires were made
before the party arrived, to cheer as much as possible
the desolation within. The dragoons who
had been charged with this duty, conveyed a few
necessary articles of furniture, and Miss Peyton
and her companions on alighting, found something
like habitable apartments prepared for their reception.
The mind of Sarah had continued to
wander during the ride, and, with the pliability of
insanity, she accommodated every circumstance to
the feelings that were uppermost in her own bosom.
It was necessary to support her to the room
intended for the ladies; but the instant she was
placed on the seat where her sister sat, she passed
an arm affectionately around the waist of Frances,
and pointing slowly with the other, said in an under
tone---
“See, this is the palace of his father; here is
the light of a thousand torches---but no bridegroom.
Oh! never---never wed without a ring---
a prepared ring; and be wary lest another has a
right to it. Poor little girl, how you tremble! but
you are safe---there never can be two bridegrooms
for more than one bride.---Oh!---no---no---no---
do not tremble, do not weep, you are safe.”
“It is impossible to minister to a mind that has
sustained such a blow,” said the trooper, who was
compassionately regarding the ruin, to Isabella
Singleton; “time and God's mercy can alone
avail her; but something more may be done towards
the bodily comfort of you all. You are a
solider's daughter and used to scenes like this;—
help me to exclude some of the cold air from these
windows.”
Miss Singleton promptly acceded to his request,
and while Lawton was endeavouring from without
to remedy the defect of broken panes, Isabella
was arranging a substitute for a curtain within.
“I hear the cart,” said the trooper, in reply to
one of her interrogatories. “Betty is tender-hearted
in the main; believe me, poor George
will not only be safe but comfortable.”
“God bless her for her care, and bless you all,”
said Isabella fervently. “Dr. Sitgreaves has gone
down the road to meet him, I know—but what is
that glittering in the moon-beams?”
Directly opposite to the window where they
stood, were the out-buildings of the farm, and the
quick eye of Lawton caught at a glance the object
to which she alluded.
“ 'Tis the glare of fire-arms,” said the trooper,
springing from the window towards his charger,
who yet remained caparisoned at the door. His
movement was quick as thought, but a flash of fire
was followed by the whistling of a bullet, before
he had proceeded a step. A loud shriek burst from
the dwelling, and the Captain sprang into his saddle—the
whole was the business of but a moment.
“Mount—mount, and follow,” shouted the
trooper, and before his astonished men could understand
the cause of alarm, Roanoke had carried
him in safety over the fence which intervened between
him and his foe. The chase was for life and
death, but the distance to the rocks was again too
short, and the disappointed trooper saw his intended
victim vanish in their clefts where he could
not follow.
“By the life of Washington,” muttered Lawton,
as he sheathed his sabre, “I would have made
two halves of him had he not been so nimble on
the foot—but a time will come.” So saying he
returned to his quarters with the indifference of a
offered a sacrifice to his country. An extraordinary
tumult in the house induced him to quicken
his speed, and on arriving at the door, the panic-stricken
Katy informed him that, the bullet aimed
at his own life had taken effect in the bosom of
Miss Singleton.
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