 | CHAPTER XIII. Lionel Lincoln, or, The leaguer of Boston |  |
13. CHAPTER XIII.
“Announced their march—”
Scott.
Cecil suffered the night to advance a little,
before she left Tremont-street, to profit by the
permission to leave the place, her communication
had obtained from the English general. It was,
however, far from late when she took leave
of Agnes, and commenced her expedition, still
attended by Meriton and the unknown man, with
whom she has already, more than once, made her
appearance in our pages. At the lower part of
the town she left her vehicle, and pursuing the
route of several devious and retired streets, soon
reached the margin of the water. The wharves
were deserted and still. Indicating the course by
her own light and hurried footsteps, to her companions,
the youthful bride moved unhesitatingly
along the rough planks, until her progress was
checked by a large basin, between two of the
ordinary wooden piers which line the shores of
the place. Here she paused for a moment, in
doubt, as if fearful there had been some mistake,
when the figure of a boy was seen advancing out
of the shadows of a neighbouring store-house.
“I fear you have lost your way,” he said, when
within a few feet of her, where he stood, apparently
examining the party with rigid scrutiny.
“One who is sent hither, on private duty, by
orders from the commander-in chief.”
“I see but two,” returned the lad, hesitating—
“where is the third?”
“He lingers in the distance,” said Cecil, pointing
to Meriton, whose footsteps were much more
guarded than those of his mistress. “Three is our
number, and we are all present.”
“I beg a thousand pardons,” returned the
youth, dropping the folds of a sailor's over-coat,
under which he had concealed the distinguishing
marks of a naval dress, and raising his hat at the
same moment, with great respect; “my orders
were to use the utmost precaution, ma'am, for,
as you hear, the rebels sleep but little to-night!”
“ 'Tis a dreadful scene I leave, truly, sir,” returned
Cecil, “and the sooner it will suit your convenience
to transport us from it, the greater will
be the obligation you are about to confer.”
The youth once more bowed, in submission to
her wishes, and requested the whole party to follow
whither he should lead. A very few moments
brought them to a pair of water-stairs, where, under
cover of the duskiness thrown upon the basin
from the wharf, a boat lay concealed, in perfect
readiness to receive them.
“Be stirring boys!” cried the youth, in a tone
of authority; “ship your oars as silently as it
stealing away from an enemy. Have the goodness,
ma'am, to enter, and you shall have a quick
and safe landing on the other shore, whatever
may be the reception of the rebels.”
Cecil and her two attendants complied without
delay, when the boat glided into the stream with
a velocity that promised a speedy verification of
the words of the midshipman The most profound
stillness reigned among these nocturnal
short distance, the bride began to lose an immediate
consciousness of her situation, in contemplation
of the scene.
The evening was already milder, and by one of
those sudden changes, peculiar to the climate, it
was rapidly becoming even bland and pleasant.
The light of a clear moon fell upon the town and
harbour, rendering the objects of both visible, in
mellowed softness. The huge black hulls of the
vessles of war, rested sullenly on the waters, like
slumbering leviathans, without even a sail or a
passing boat, except their own, to enliven the view
in the direction of the port. On the other hand,
the hills of the town rose, in beautiful relief, against
the clear sky, with here and there a roof or a steeple
reflecting the pale light of the moon. The
bosom of the place was as quiet as if its inhabitants
were buried in midnight sleep, but behind
the hills, in a circuit extending from the works on
the heights of Charlestown, to the neck, which lay
in open view of the boat, there existed all the
evidences of furious warfare. During the few preceding
nights the Americans had been more than
commonly diligent in the use of their annoyances,
but now they appeared to expend their utmost
energies upon their enemies. Still they spared the
town, directing the weight of their fire at the different
batteries which protected the approaches to
the place, as already described, along the western
borders of the peninsula.
The ears of Cecil had long been accustomed
to the uproar of arms, but this was the first occasion
in which she was ever a witness of the mingled
beauties and terrors of a cannonade at night.
Suffering the calash to fall, she shook back the
dark tresses from her face, and leaning over the
sides of the little vessel, listened to the bursts
vivid light that mocked the dimmer illumination
of the planet, with an absorbed attention that
momentarily lured her into forgetfulness. The
men pulled their light boat with muffled oars, and
so still was its progress, that there were instants
when even the shot might be heard rattling among
the ruins they had made.
“It's amazement to me, madam,” said Meriton,
“that so many British generals, and brave gentlemen
as there is in Boston, should stay in such a
little spot to be shot at by a parcel of countrymen,
when there is Lon'non, as still and as safe,
at this blessed moment, as a parish church-yard,
at midnight!”
Cecil raised her eyes at this interruption, and
perceived the youth gazing at her countenance
in undisguised admiration of its beauty. Blushing,
and once more concealing her features beneath
her calash, she turned away from the view
of the conflict, in silence.
“The rebels are free with their gunpowder tonight!”
said the midshipman.—“Some of their
cruisers have picked up another of our store-ships,
I fancy, or Mr. Washington would not make
such a noisy time of it, when all honest people
should be thinking of their sleep. Don't you
believe, Ma'am, if the admiral would warp three
or four of our heaviest ships up into the channel,
back of the town, it would be a short method
of lowering the conceit of these Yankees?”
“Really, sir, I am so little acquainted with
military matters,” returned Cecil, suffering her
anxious features to relax into a smile, “that
my opinion, should I venture to give one, would
be utterly worthless.”
“Why, young gentleman,” said Meriton, “the
rebels drove a galley out of the river, a night or
a large brick store, where I saw the whole
affair, most beautifully conducted!”
“A very fit place for one like you, no doubt,
sir,” returned the midshipman, without attempting
to conceal his disgust at so impertinent an interruption—“do
you know what a galley is, Ma'am?
nothing but a small vessel cut down, with a
few heavy guns, I do assure you. It would be
a very different affair with a frigate or a two-decker!
Do but observe what a charming thing
our ship is, Ma'am—I am sure so beautiful a lady
must know how to admire a handsome ship!—
she lies here-away, nearly in a range with the
second island.”
To please the earnest youth, Cecil bent her
head toward the quarter he wished, and murmured
a few words in approbation of his taste.
But the impatient boy had narrowly watched the
direction of her eyes, and she was interrupted by
his exclaiming in manifest disappointment—
“What! that shapeless hulk, just above the
castle! she is an old Dutch prize, en flute, ay,
older than my grandmother, good old soul;
and it wouldn't matter the value of a piece of
junk; into which end you stepped her bowsprit!
One of my school-fellows, Jack Willoughby,
is a reefer on board her; and he says that
they can just get six knots out of her, on her
course in smooth water with a fresh breeze, allowing
seven knot for lee-way! Jack means to get
rid of her the moment he can catch the admiral
running large, for the Graves's live near
the Willoughbys' in town, and he knows all the
soundings about the old man's humour. No, no,
Ma'am, Jack would give every shot in his lockers
to swing a hammock between two of the beams
of our ship. Do excuse me, one moment;”—presuming
with sufficient delicacy, as he pointed out his favourite
vessel—“There, Ma'am, now you have
her! She that's so taunt rigged, with a flying-jib-boom,
and all her top-gallant-yards stopped to
her lower rigging—we send them down every
night at gun-fire, and cross them again next
morning as regularly as the bell strikes eight.—
Isn't she a sweet thing, Ma'am? for I see she has
caught your eye at last, and I am sure you
can't wish to look at any other ship in port.”
Cecil could not refuse her commendations to
this eloquent appeal, though at the next moment
she would have been utterly at a loss to distinguish
the much-admired frigate from the despised
store-ship.
“Ay, ay, Madam, I knew you would like her
when you once got a fair glimpse at her proportions,”
continued the delighted boy; “though she
is not half so beautiful on her broadside, as when
you can catch her lasking, especially on her larboard
bow—pull, long and strong, men, and with
a light touch of the water—these Yankees have
ears as long as borricoes, and we are getting in
with the land. This set-down at Dorchester's neck
will give you a long walk, Ma'am, to Cambridge;
but there was no possibility of touching the rebels
any where else to-night, or, as you see, we should
have gone right into the face of their cannon.”
“Is it not a little remarkable,” said Cecil, willing
to pay the solicitude of the boy to amuse
her, by some reply, “that the colonists, while
they invest the town so closely on the north and
west, should utterly neglect to assail it on the
south; for I believe they have never occupied the
hills in Dorchester at all; and yet it is one of the
points nearest to Boston!”
“It is no mystery at all!” returned the boy,
shaking his head with all the sagacity of a veteran—“it
would bring another Bunker-hill about
their ears; for you see it is the same thing at this
end of the place that Charlestown neck is at the
other! a light touch, men, a light touch!” he continued,
dropping his voice as they approached the
shore; “besides, Ma'am, a fort on that hill could
throw its shot directly on our decks, a thing the
old man would never submit to; and that would
either bring on a regular hammering match, or a
general clearing out of the fleet; and then what
would become of the army!—No, no—the Yankees
wouldn't risk driving the cod-fish out of their
bay, to try such an experiment! Lay on your oars,
boys, while I take a squint along this shore, to see
if there are any Jonathans cooling themselves near
the beach, by moon-light.”
The obedient seamen rested from their labours,
while their youthful officer stood up in the boat
and directed a small night-glass over the intended
place of landing. The examination proved entirely
satisfactory, and in a low, cautions voice, he
ordered the men to pull into a place where the
shadow of the hills might render the landing still
less likely to be observed.
From this moment the most profound silence
was observed, the boat advancing swiftly, though
under perfect command, to the desired spot, where
it was soon heard grazing upon the bottom, as it
gradually lost its motion, and finally became stationary.
Cecil was instantly assisted to the land,
whither she was followed by the midshipman,
who jumped upon the shore, with great indifference,
and approached the passenger, from
whom he was now about to part—
“I only hope that those you next fall in with,
may know how to treat you as well as those you
his hand, with the frankness of an older seaman,
to Cecil—“God bless you, my dear Ma'am; I
have two little sisters at home, nearly as handsome
as yourself, and I never see a woman in want of
assistance, but I think of the poor girls I've left in
old England—God bless you, once more—I hope
when we meet again, you will take a nearer view
of the”—
“You are not likely to part so soon as you imagine,”
exclaimed a man, springing on his feet,
from his place of concealment behind a rock,
and advancing rapidly on the party—“offer the
least resistance, and you are all dead.”
“Shove off, men, shove off, and don't mind
me!” cried the youth, with admirable presence
of mind.—“For God's sake, save the boat, if you
die for it!”
The seamen obeyed with practised alacrity,
when the boy darted after them with the lightness
of his years, and making a despearate leap,
caught the gunwale of the barge, into which he
was instantly drawn by the sailors. A dozen
armed men had by this time reached the edge of
the water, and as many muskets were pointed at
the retreating party, when he who had first
spoken, cried—
“Not a trigger! the boy has escaped us, and
he deserves his fortune! Let us secure those
who remain; but if a single gun be fired it will
only draw the attention of the flect and castle.”
His companions, who had acted with the hesitation
of men that were not assured the course they
took was correct, willingly dropped the muzzles of
their pieces, and in another instant the boat was
ploughing its way towards the much-admired frigate,
at a distance which would probably have rendered
their fire quite harmless. Cecil had hardly
breathed during the short period of uncertainty.
herself to receive their captors, with the
perfect confidence which an American woman
seldom fails to feel in the mildness and reason of
her countrymen. The whole party, who now
approached her, were dressed in the ordinary habiliments
of husbandmen, mingled, in a slight degree,
with the more martial accountrements of soldiers.
They were armed with muskets only,
which they wielded like men acquainted with all
the uses of the weapon, at the same time that they
were unaccustomed to the mere manual of the
troops.
Every fibre of the body of Meriton, however,
shook with fear, as he found this unexpected
guard encircling their little party, nor did the unknown
man who had accompanied them appear
entirely free from apprehension. The bride still
maintained her self-possession, supported either
by her purpose, or her greater familiarity with the
character of the people into whose hands she had
fallen.
When the whole party were posted within a few
feet of them, they dropped the butts of their muskets
on the ground, and stood patient listeners to
the ensuing examination. The leader of the
party, who was only distinguished from his companions
by a green cockade in his hat, which
Cecil had heard was the symbol of a subaltern
officer among the American troops, addressed her
in a calm, but steady tone—
“It is unpleasant to question a woman,” he
said, “and especially one of your appearance:
but duty requires it of me. What brings you
to this unfrequented point, in the boat of a king's
ship, and at this unusual hour of the night?”
“I come with no intent to conceal my visit
from any eyes,” returned Cecil; “for my first
wish is to be conducted to some officer of rank, to
that I should know, who will not hesitate to believe
my words.”
“We none of us profess to doubt your truth;
we only act with caution, because it is required
by circumstances—cannot the explanation be
made to me; for I dislike the duty that causes
trouble to a female?”
“'Tis impossible!” said Cecil, involuntarily
shrinking within the folds of her mantle.
“You come at a most unfortunate moment,”
said the other, musing, “and I fear you will pass
an uneasy night, in consequence. By your
tongue, I think you are an American?”
“I was born among those roofs, which you
may see on the opposite peninsula.”
“Then we are of the same town,” returned the
officer, stepping back in a vain attempt to get a
glimpse of those features which were concealed
beneath the hood. He made no attempt, however,
to remove the silk, nor did he in the slightest
manner convey any wish of a nature that
might be supposed to wound the delicacy of
her sex; but finding himself unsuccessful, he
turned away, as he added—“and I grow tired
of remaining where I can see the smoke of my
own chimneys, at the same time I know that
strangers are seated around the hearths below!”
“None wish more fervently than I, that the
moment had arrived when each might enjoy
his own, in peace and quietness.”
“Let the parliament repeal their laws, and the
king recall his troops,” said one of the men, “and
there will be an end of the struggle at once. We
don't fight because we love to shed blood!”
“He would do both, friend, if the counsel of
one so insignificant as I, could find weight in his
royal mind.”
“I believe there is not much difference between
a royal mind and that of any other man, when
the devil gets hold of it!” bluntly exclaimed another
of the party. “I've a notion the imp is
as mischievous with a king as with a cobbler!”
“Whatever I may think of the conduct of his
ministers,” said Cecil, coldly, “'tis unpleasant
to me to discuss the personal qualities of my
sovereign.”
“Why, I meant no offence; though when the
truth is uppermost in a man's thoughts, he is apt
to let it out,” returned the soldier. After this uncouth
apology, he continued silent, turning away
like one who felt dissatisfied with himself for
what he had done.
In the mean time the leader had been consulting
with one or two of his men aside. He now
advanced again, and delivered the result of their
united wisdom.
“Under all circumstances, I have concluded,”
he said, speaking in the first person, in deference
to his rank, though in fact he had consented to
change his own opinion at the instigation of his
advisers, “to refer you for information to the
nearest general officer, under the care of these
two men, who will show you the way. They
both know the country, and there is not the least
danger of their mistaking the road.”
Cecil bowed, in entire submission to this characteristic
intimation of his pleasure, and declared
her anxiety to proceed. The officer held another
short consultation with the two guides, which soon terminated by his issuing orders to the rest
of the detachment to prepare to depart. Before
they separated, one of the guides, or, more properly,
guards, approached Meriton, and said, with a
deliberation that might easily be mistaken for
doubt—
“As we shall be only two to two, friend, will it
not be as well to see what you have got secreted
about your person, as it may prevent any hard
words or difficulties hereafter. “You will see the
reason of the thing, I trust, and make no objection.”
“Not at all, sir, not at all!” returned the
trembling valet, producing his purse, without a
moment's hesitation; “it is not heavy, but what
there is in it, is of the best English gold; which I
expect is much regarded among you who see nothing
but rebel paper!”
“Much as we set store by it, we do not choose
to rob for it,” returned the soldier, with cool contempt.
“I wish to look for weapons, and not
for money.”
“But sir, as I unluckily have no weapons,
had you not better take my money? there are ten
good guineas, I do assure you; and not a light
one among them all, 'pon honour! besides several
pieces of silver.”
“Come, Allen,” said the other soldier, laughing,
“it's no great matter whether that gentleman
has arms or not, I believe. His comrade here, who
seems to know rather better what he is about, has
none, at any rate; and for one of two men, I am
willing to trust the other.”
“I do assure you,” said Cecil, “that our intentions
are peaceable, and that your charge will
prove in no manner difficult.”
The men listened to the earnest tones of her
sweet voice with much deference, and in a few
moments the two parties separated, to proceed
on their several ways. While the main
body of the soldiers ascended the hill, the
guides of Cecil took a direction which led them
around its base. Their route lay towards the
low neck which connected the heights with
both diligent and rapid. Cecil was often consulted
as to her ability to endure the fatigue,
and repeated offers were made to accommodate
their speed to her wishes. In every other respect
she was totally disregarded by the guides,
who, however, paid much closer attention to
her companions, each soldier attaching himself
to one of her followers, whom he constantly
regarded with a watchful and wary eye.
“You seem cold, friend,” said Allen to Meriton,
“though I should call the night quite pleasant
for the first week in March!”
“Indeed I'm starved to the bones!” returned
the valet, with a shivering that would seem to
verify his assertion.—“It's a very chilly climate
is this of America, especially of nights! I never
really felt such a remarkable dampness about the
throat before, within memory, I do assure you.”
“Here is another handkerchief,” said the soldier,
throwing him a common 'kerchief from his
pocket—“wrap it round your neck, for it gives
me an ague to hear your teeth knocking one another
about so.”
“I thank you, sir, a thousand times,” said
Meriton, producing his purse again, with an
instinctive readiness—“what may be the price?”
The man pricked up his ears, and dropping
his musket from the guarded position in which
he had hitherto carried it, he drew closer to the
side of his prisoner, in a very companionable
way, as he replied—
“I did not calculate on selling the article;
but if you have need of it, I wouldn't wish to be
hard.”
“Shall I give you one guinea, or two, Mr.
Rebel?” asked Meriton, whose faculties were
utterly confounded by his terror.
“My name is Allen, friend, and we like civil
language in the Bay,” said the soldier. “Two
guineas for a pocket-handkerchief! I couldn't
think of imposing on any man so much!”
“What shall it be then, half a guinea, or four
half-crown pieces?”
“I didn't at all calculate to part with the
handkerchief when I left home—its quite new,
as you can see by holding it up, in this manner,
to the moon—besides, you know, now there
is no trade, these things come very high.—Well,
if you are disposed to buy, I dont wish to crowd;
you may take it, finally, for the two crowns.”
Meriton dropped the money into his hands,
without hesitation, and the soldier pocketed the
price, perfectly satisfied with his bargain and
himself, since he had sold his goods at a clear
profit of about three hundred per cent. He
soon took occasion to whisper to his comrade,
that in his opinion “he had made a good
trade,” and laying their heads together, they
determined that the bargain was by no means
a bad wind-fall. On the other hand, Meriton,
who knew the difference in value between cotton
and silk, quite as well as his American
protectors, was equally well satisfied with the
arrangement; though his contentment was derived
from a very different manner of reasoning.
From early habit, he had long been taught
to believe that every civility, like patriotism in
the opinion of Sir Robert Walpole, had its price;
and his fears had rendered him somewhat careless
about the amount of the purchase-money.
He now considered himself as having a clear
claim on the protection of his guard, and his
apprehensions gradually subsided into security
under the soothing impression.
By the time this satisfactory bargain was concluded,
of his own, they had reached the low
land already mentioned as the “neck.” Suddenly
the guard stopped, and bending forward,
in the attitude of deep attention, they seemed
to listen, intently, to some faint and distant
sounds that were, for moments, audible in the
intervals of the cannonade.
“They are coming,” said one to the other;
“shall we go on, or wait until they've passed?”
The question was answered in a whisper, and,
after a short consultation, they determined to
proceed.
The attention of Cecil had been attracted by
this conference, and the few words which had
escaped her guides; and, for the first time, she
harboured some little dread as to her final
destination. Full of the importance of her errand,
the bride now devoted every faculty to
detect the least circumstance that might have
a tendency to defeat it. She trode so lightly on
the faded herbage as to render her own footsteps
inaudible, and more than once she was about to
request the others to imitate her example, that
no danger might approach them unexpectedly.
At length her doubts were relieved, though her
wonder was increased, by distinctly hearing the
lumbering sounds of wheels on the frozen earth,
as if innumerable groaning vehicles were advancing
with slow and measured progress. In
another instant her eyes assisted the organs of
hearing, and by the aid of the moon her doubts,
if not her apprehensions, were entirely removed.
Her guards now determined on a change
of purpose, and withdrew with their prisoners
within the shadow of an apple tree that stood
on the low land, but a few paces from the
vehicles. In this position they remained
for several minutes, attentive observers
of what was passing around them.
“Our men have woke up the British by their
fire,” said one of the guards; “and all their eyes
are turned to the batteries!”
“Yes, it's very well as it is,” returned his comrade;
“but if the old brass congress mortar
hadn't gi'n way yesterday, there would be a different
sort of roaring. Did you ever see the old
congress?”
“I can't say I ever saw the cannon itself,
but I have seen the bombs fifty times; and pokerish-looking
things they be, especially in a
dark night—but hush, here they come.”
A large body of men now approached, and
moved swiftly past them, in deepest silence, defiling
at the foot of the hills, and marching towards
the shores of the peninsula. The whole
of this party was attired and accoutred much
in the fashion of those who had received Cecil.
One or two who were mounted, and in more
martial trappings, announced the presence of
some officers of higher rank. At the very heels
of this detachment of soldiers, came a great number
of carts, which took the route that led directly
up to the neighbouring heights. After these
came another, and more numerous body of
troops, who followed the teams, the whole moving
in the profoundest stillness, and with the diligence
of men who were engaged in the most important
undertaking. In the rear of the whole,
another collection of carts appeared, groaning
under the weight of large bundles of hay, and
other military preparations of defence. Before
this latter division left the low land, immense
numbers of the closely-packed bundles were
quickness almost magical, in such a manner as
to form a light breast-work across the low
ground, which would otherwise have been
completely exposed to be swept by the shot
of the royal batteries; a situation of things that
was believed to have led to the catastrophe of
Breeds, the preceding summer.
Among the last of those who crossed the neck,
was an officer on horse-back, whose eye was attracted
by the group who stood as idle spectators
under the tree. Pointing out the latter object to
those around him, he rode nigher to the party,
and leaned forward in his saddle to examine their
persons—
“How's this!” he exclaimed—“a woman and
two men under the charge of sentinels! Have we
then more spies among us—cut away the tree,
men; we have need of it, and let in the light of
the moon upon them!”
The order was hardly given before it was
executed, and the tree felled with a despatch
that, to any but an American, would appear incredible.
Cecil stepped aside from the impending
branches, and by moving into the light,
betrayed the appearance of a gentlewoman by
her mien and apparel.
“Here must be some mistake!” continued
the officer—“why is the lady thus guarded?”
One of the soldiers, in a few words, explained
the nature of her arrest, and in return
received directions, anew, how to proceed. The
mounted officer now put spurs into his horse,
and galloped away, in eager pursuit of more
pressing duties, though he still looked behind
him, so long as the deceptive light enabled him to
distinguish either form or features.
“'Tis advisable to go on the heights,” said the
soldier, “where we may find the commanding
general.”
“Any where,” returned Cecil, confused with
the activity and bustle that had passed before her
eyes, “or any thing, to be relieved from this distressing
delay.”
In a very few moments they reached the summit
of the nearest of the two hills, where they
paused just without the busy circle of men who
laboured there, while one of the soldiers went in
quest of the officer in command. From the point
where she now stood, Cecil had an open view of
the port, the town, and most of the adjacent country.
The vessels still reposed heavily on the
waters, and she fancied that the youthful midshipman
was already nestling safe in his own hammock,
on board the frigate, whose tall and tapering
spars rose against the sky in such beautiful
and symmetrical lines. No evidences of alarm
were manifested in the town; but, on the contrary,
the lights were gradually disappearing, notwithstanding
the heavy cannonade which still
roared along the western side of the peninsula;
and it was probable that Howe, and his unmoved
companions, yet continued their revels, with the
same security in which they had been left two
short hours before. While, with the exception
of the batteries, every thing in the distance was
still, and apparently slumbering, the near view
was one of life and activity. Mounds of earth
were already rising on the crest of the hill—
labourers were filling barrels with earth and sand;
fascines were tumbling about from place to place,
as they were wanted, and yet the stillness was
only interrupted by the unremitting strokes of
the pick, the low and earnest hum of voices,
or the crashing of branches, as the pride of the
earth. The novelty of the scene beguiled Cecil of
her anxiety, and many minutes passed unheeded
by. Fifty times parties, or individuals amongst
the labourers, approaching near her person, paused
to gaze a moment at the speaking and sweet
features that the placid light of the moon rendered
even more than usually soft, and then
pushed on in silence, endeavouring to repair, by
renewed diligence, the transient forgetfulness
of their urgent duties. At length the man returned,
and announced the approach of the general
who commanded on the hill. The latter was a
soldier of middle age, of calm and collected deportment,
roughly attired, for the occasion, and
bearing no other symbol of his rank than the distinctive
crimson cockade, in one of the large military
hats of the period.
“You find us in the midst of our labours,” he
pleasantly observed, as he approached; “and will
overlook the delay I have given you. It is reported
you left the town this evening?”
“Within the hour.”
“And Howe—dreams he of the manner in
which we are likely to amuse him in the morning?”
“It would be affectation in one like me,” said
Cecil, modestly, “to decline answering questions
concerning the views of the royal general; but
still you will pardon me if I say, that in my present
situation, I could wish to be spared the pain
of even confessing my ignorance.”
“I acknowledge my error,” the officer unhesitatingly
answered. After a short pause, in which
he seemed to muse, he continued—“this is no
ordinary night, young lady, and it becomes my
duty to refer you to the general commanding this
wing of the army. He possibly may think it necessary
commander-in-chief.”
“It is he I seek, sir, and would most wish to
meet.”
He bowed, and giving his orders to a subaltern
in a low voice, walked away, and was soon lost in
the busy crowd that came and went in constant
employment, around the summit of the hill. Cecil
lingered a single moment after her new conductor
had declared his readiness to proceed, to cast
another glance at the calm splendour of the sea
and bay; the distant and smoky roofs of the
town; the dim objects that moved about the adjacent
eminence, equally and similarly employed
with those around her; and then raising her calash,
and tightening the folds of her mantle, she
descended the hill with the light and elastic steps
of youth.
| CHAPTER XIII. Lionel Lincoln, or, The leaguer of Boston | |