University of Virginia Library

5. CHAPTER V.

During the week succeeding the stirring and important
events, which we have been endeavoring to
describe, circumstances of both a public and private
nature, conspired to bring Miss Hendee in contact
with her neighbors and acquaintances, much more
than usual. The recent change of masters at the
fort having led to a new and frequent intercourse
with the inhabitants of this section of the country,
many of both sexes had called at the cottage, on
their visits to their friends, who were now members
of the garrison. Business connected with her father's
household concerns had also caused her to
make several calls, during the period above mentioned,
at the houses of the different settlers in the neighborhood.
It could not reasonably be supposed, in a
country settlement where people, in the absence of
other employment of their leisure, are usually so curious
respecting the affairs of their neighbors, and
where every kind of gossipping always finds so ready

a circulation, that the visits of so distinguished a
young gentleman as Warrington, at a house containing
one so lovely and excellent as Alma Hendee,
had been suffered to transpire without being generally
known, and commented on, by the inhabitants
of the vicinity. Such, at all events appeared not
to have been the case in the present instance: for
Miss Hendee soon discovered, that her social intercourse
with her lover, as limited as it had recently
been, was well understood by nearly every one of
her acquaintance with whom she now happened to
fall in company. And many were the jokes and
banterings which she was compelled to meet on the
subject. But there was one circumstance attending
them which soon struck her as peculiar and uncommon
in such kind of rallyings; and this was, that,
instead of the flattering and grateful approvals, and
happy predictions, usually uttered on such occasions,
they were now, in almost every instance, accompanied
with some manifestations of regret, or disapprobation,
at the conjectured intimacy—some hesitation
of manner, some ominous shaking of the head,
or some mysterious hinting at the dangers that would
attend the connection, which none, at the same time,
seemed to treat as one that would terminate in marriage.
At first, Alma paid but little attention to
these intimations; but as they were repeated, they
began to occasion her considerable uneasiness. And
when she found them coming from all quarters, prudence
would no longer permit her to pass them unheeded.
And she began to busy her mind in trying
to account for impressions, which she supposed
to be much too general to be attributed to chance
opinions, or personal prejudices. She felt satisfied
that this feeling could not proceed from any wish to
favor Sherwood's pretensions to her hand; for she
well knew he was no favorite with the people at
large. Nor could she perceive how it could arise
from any ill opinion entertained against Warrington,
who, as she had been told, was held in the highest
estimation by the settlers generally, both for the signal
services he had publicly rendered them, and for
the many excellent traits of his private character.
Although delicacy of feeling, as well as prudence,
prevented her making any enquiries of those who
had introduced this subject, yet the amount of what
she had gathered from them seemed to indicate the
existence of some insurmountable barrier to the union,
to which she had recently engaged herself. But
what the nature of this obstacle could be, she was
wholly unable to conjecture.

One day, after making one of her excursions
among the settlers, she had returned home under an
unusual depression of spirits, occasioned by some
hints and warnings of a more pointed nature than
she had before received, together with the mortifying
reflection that her views and feelings, in regard
to her secretly contemplated union, had found no
response in the minds of her acquaintance. Although
an easy credulity formed no part of the discriminating
mind of Miss Hendee, yet prudence and
discretion were ever among the leading traits of her
finely balanced character. And these taught her
the necessity of pausing in the path she had begun
to tread, lest it, indeed, should be found to be beset
with dangers, which had been concealed from her
view. She recalled to mind some insinuations
thrown out by Sherwood at his late visit, by which,
she now, on reflection, supposed he intended she
should believe, that Warrington was not only a libertine,

but that he had, by a clandestine marriage,
entered into with some of his victims for the purpose
of accomplishing his designs, put it out of his
own power to contract a legal marriage with another.
Considering these insinuations at the time entirely
false and malicious, she had instantly rejected
them from her mind, withour paying attention enough
to them to examine the import of the words by
which they were conveyed. But now, on recurring
to the subject, and comparing Sherwood's words
with the dark hints she had since received from others,
she could not but be startled with the coincidence
she perceived in all the different intimations
that she had heard. And the more she reflected on
the various remarks of her acquaintance, all seeming
to tend to the same point, and to be strangely corroborative
of each other, the more apprehensive she
became of the existence of some fact, which would
not only level with the dust the fair fabric of prospective
happiness she had lately been rearing, but
would place her in no enviable position before the
public, when the step she had taken should become
known.

While Miss Hendee was revolving these distracting
thoughts in her mind, that had now reached that
state of uncertainty and fluctuation which peculiarly
fits it for the reception of questionable statements,
her reflections were interrupted by the entrance of
a man, who announced himself as a tinker, wishing
to know whether there were any wares in the house
which required the aid of his profession. Being answered
in the affirmative, he pulled off his pack,
and, producing his tools, went to work on such utensils
as were brought him for repairing. He was a
man of a loquacious turn; and he had scarcely become

seated at his work, before his tongue was going
as rapidly as his hammer. Being somewhat amused
at the remarks she heard him make to Ruth, the
domestic of whom we have before spoken, Alma
soon acquitted the adjoining room, where she had
seated herself, and, entering the kitchen, took a seat,
and fell into conversation with the talkative stranger,
occasionally asking a question herself, and good
naturedly answering the various questions he put to
her, as he rapidly roved from subject to subject, in so
disconnected a manner, that it would have puzzled
a philosopher to have traced the association of the
man's ideas.

`Your fort over here has lately changed masters,
I learn,' he carelessly observed, after he had started
and dispatched every other topic which he apparently
could think of as connected with the affairs of the
neighborhood,—`I wonder who has the command of
the place under the new order of things?'

`Major Warrington, I believe,' replied Alma, as a
slight tinge overspread her fair cheek.

`Major Warrington, Warrington, did you say?'
said the man, enquiringly repeating the name: `not
Charles Warrington of Bennington way?'

`Yes, the same, sir,' replied the other.

`Now I want to know! Do tell us if he has got
to be Major?' half exclaimed, and half enquired the
seemingly surprised tinker.

`Is he a former acquaintance of yours, sir?' asked
Alma, turning with a look of interest to the man.

`Lord, yes!' exclaimed he, with great apparent
simplicity. `Why mam, I have known him ever
since he was knee high to a toad—used to live in
the same town with him and his father's family, in
old Connecticut, before they moved to the Grants,

and have seen Charles there often since, on his visits
back among his relations—and—and old sweet-hearts,'
he continued, looking up roguishly to Alma,
as if to see how the last remark took with her, but
perceiving the uneasiness of her looks, he jocosely
added, `Why, I spose the girls know that the young
men will have sweet-hearts, don't they?'

`I pretend not to know young gentlemen's business,
sir,' replied Alma, in a voice tremulous with
suppressed emotion.

`Well, well, I meant no offence,' rejoined the tinker,
seemingly abashed at the poor reception of his
rally.

`You have given me none, sir,' timidly remarked
the other. `But I think you said you had kept up
your acquaintance with Mr. Warrington, and you
may know whether—that is you'—and she paused,
unable for the fluttering of her heart to proceed with
an enquiry, the answer to which would probably involve
her every hope of happiness for life: for she
felt that this plain and apparently honest man, with
his intimate knowledge of Warrington's previous
life and character, would be able to furnish her testimony,
which would remove her apprehensions, or
confirm them, and seal her doom forever.

`May know what, marm?' asked he, after waiting
patiently awhile for her to proceed.

Alma made an effort to go on; but so great was
her agitation that she could not utter a syllable, and
she remained silent.

`Yes, I know all about Charles Warrington as
well as any other man,' resumed the fellow, after he
saw the other was not likely to go on with her enquiry.
`A considerable of a chap he is, too. In fact,
he is a plaguey smart fellow; and a likely one, too,

in the main. I never knew but one mean trick
about him in my life; and that was, shuffling off and
deserting that poor simple wife of his, that he married
kinder privately there in Connecticut a year or
two ago.'

Had a winged shaft from an Indian's bow, at that
instant been driven through the heart of Alma Hendee,
the convulsive start, the sudden contraction of
the muscles of her face, and the fearful death-gasp,
would have been scarcely more visible than was the
effect of the words of the last speaker. She sat a
moment as if suddenly paralyzed in all her senses.
Presently commenced the twitching, nervous motion
of her fingers, as she rapidly handled over the work
in her lap. Then suddenly rising, she went to the
window, and gasping for breath, stood an instant vacantly
gazing out upon the landscape, with a face as
white as the bloodless marble. She then turned
quickly away, and, with hurried, unsteady steps, rushed
out of the room. Reaching her own apartment,
she again stopped short, and remained several moments
mute and motionless as a statue, while the
wo-stricken expression of her countenance, and the
silent workings in the muscles of her blanched and
beautiful features, as she stood, like a tearless Niobe,
with her anguished eye upcast to heaven, and both
hands pressed tightly against her heart, told, more
forcibly than language can express, the mental agony
with which she was contending.

After Alma left the room, the miserable wretch,
who had so cruelly inflicted this dreadful blow upon
her feelings, hurried through his work, received his
stipulated wages, and departed. No sooner had he
turned his back than the faithful Ruth, who had noticed,
and understood all that had passed, hastened,

with looks of visible concern, to the apartment of her
idolized young mistress.

`Alma!' said she, tenderly placing her hand on
the now burning brow of the suffering girl, who had
flung herself upon her bed, where she was lying,
with one hand pressing her closed eyelids and the
other her side: `Alma, your forehead is very hot—
shall I bathe it?'

`No, no, Ruth,' faintly murmured the fair sufferer,
`it is no attack of disease: my head, I know, is
some fevered, and my eyes are sore, very sore; but
the trouble is here!' she added, indicating the
spot by lifting and replacing her hand upon her
heart.

`I was aware of your feelings in some measure,
Alma,' replied the other soothingly, `and being like
yourself, deceived in the character of the man of
your secret choice, I confess, I did not disapprove
of your partiality. But now, Alma, should you not
be thankful, that you have made this discovery in
season to retrace your steps, and escape the danger?'

`Yes, and I am, I certainly am; but O, Ruth,
Ruth, you little knew how much I loved him! and
oh! how cruelly—cruelly has he repaid my lavished
affection!'

With this the sealed fountain of her tears suddenly
opened. And as the pearly drops flowed thick
and fast over her lovely cheeks, she breathed more
freely; and the torture, the scorching, tearless agony,
that she had felt withering both heart and brain,
was removed, giving place to the mitigated suffering
of ordinary sorrow, in which she long, long indulged,
while her faithful domestic, in character of nurse
and friend, watched over, and comforted her.

The next morning, when Miss Hendee arose, she

was calm and composed, though looking extremely
pale. Her appearance very plainly told, that the
struggle she had passed through had been a fearful
one; but it told, also, that she had not struggled in
vain for the mastery over her feelings. Though her
heart had been pierced and lacerated, she seemed to
have succeeded in silencing its throbbings. There
was a decision in her looks and movements, that indicated
the stern and unwavering resolves she had
made. And in pursuance of the course she had
marked out for herself, it was her first object to dispatch
such a notice to Warrington of her determination,
as should effectually deter him from attempting
any renewal of the intercourse. Accordingly,
after she had superintended, as usual, the household
affairs of the family for the morning, she retired, and
penned the brief note:—

Sealing the note, she summoned Neshobee to her
room, and with the same desperate sort of calmness
which she had exhibited through the morning, though
with a slight tremor in her voice, she said to him,

`Here, Neshobee, take this to Major Warrington
without delay, if you can find him within twenty miles
of this place. But I understand there was a vessel,
with several boats filled with troops, arrived from the
south last night; and he probably came with them,
as he has been absent from the fort, I am told, for
the purpose of enlisting more men. Go, give it

him; and do not stay an instant for an answer, or
to give him a chance to question you.'

The Indian, who perceived both in her words and
manner, that some sudden change had taken place
in the connection, which he was aware existed between
her and his friend, Warrington, threw a keen
enquiring glance upon the face of his mistress, and
seemed to hesitate and linger, as if for an explanation
of so unexpected an errand. But receiving only
an impatient motion of her hand for his immediate
departure, he turned away, and with an air of
mingled wonder and regret, left the house in silence,
and proceeding to his skiff at the landing, rowed directly
over to the fort. When he arrived there he
found all in bustle and commotion, preparatory to an
expedition into Canada. Allen, Warrington and Arnold
had arrived, as before intimated, the evening
previous, with a schooner and a number of batteaux,
filled with a considerable body of troops, collected
for the contemplated expedition, all of whom
were now on the point of embarking,—Arnold in
the schooner, with such Massachusetts' troops as had
arrived since the capture of Ticonderoga, and were
now properly under his command, and Allen and
Warrington with the remainder of the forces in the
batteaux. As soon as the Indian reached the shore
he sought out Warrington, and put the note into his
hand. Receiving it as one who might be expecting
a favor of the kind, the latter carefully put the supposed
prize into his pocket, and informing the messenger,
that he had one for him to take back to his
mistress in return, he turned to finish the directions
he was at the moment engaged in imparting to his
men. When he had completed the business immediately
on hand, he turned to look for Neshobee,

that he might take him into the fort to receive the
letter he intended to send back by him. But, after
searching for him in vain among the men, he cast
his eye on to the lake, and, to his surprise and vexation,
he beheld the native rapidly pulling for the opposite
shore, and already out of hailing distance.
Still supposing, however, that the messenger had
misunderstood his request, the impatient lover hastened
to a solitary room in the fort for the purpose of
reading the precious paper alone, and adding a postscript
to the one he had written, that he might dispatch
it by a special messenger before he embarked.
As soon as he was alone, he eagerly broke the seal
of Alma's brief note, and read, with the most unmingled
pain and astonishment, its unexpected contents.
Hastily rising from the seat he had taken, he,
for many minutes rapidly paced the room in silence,
while the agitation visibly depicted on his manly
countenance plainly bespoke the depth and bitterness
of his emotions.

`Yes, noble girl,' he at length mournfully said,
`incapable of intrigue and meanness yourself, you
have, in some way, unsuspectingly become a victim
to the snares of a villain! It is—it must be so. A
deception has been practiced upon you—a gross deception
could alone have prompted to a measure so
sudden, so cruel, so inconsistent, and so destructive,
as I know it must be, to your own happiness. Well,
well, I have no leisure now, if I would, to enter the
lists with this dispicable plotter of mischief, who has
thus entered our Eden, and turned its happiness to
sorrow, in trying to ferret out his villanies, or compete
with him in his low game of intrigue and deception.
I must leave you, too credulous girl, to
discover for yourself the arts by which you have

been duped, and the injustice you have done me—
till then, farewell—till then, be my country my heart's
only mistress.'

Before another hour had elapsed, Warrington
had embarked with his troops, and, with the gallant
and war-like array with which he was borne down
the lake, had passed from the scene of his love and
disappointment on his way to fields of blood and
glory.

It comes not within the scope of our design to accompany
our Green Mountain Boys through the
eventful campaign that followed their present embarcation,
or to attempt to trace the varied fortunes of
their gallant leaders,—the daring, talented, and chivalrous
Allen, who, in his heroic attempt on Montreal,
was taken prisoner and carried to England in
irons, and there kept through a long and doleful captivity,
which deprived his country of the aid of one
of her most energetic sons during the most trying
period of the war,—the skillful, cool and intrepid
Warrington, whose conduct soon won for him the
admiration of his country,—the gay and gifted Selden,
whose sword and pen were alike successfully
wielded in the cause,—and the jolly and fearless
Jones, who became known as the most sagacious and
trusty scout leader in the northern army. These,
and the brave, resolute and patriotic men under
their command, who soon, by their courage and success
in battle, and their fidelity to the cause of freedom,
rendered the name of Green Mountain Boys
a terror to their foes, and an appellation of honor
among their admiring countrymen, we must now
leave to struggle with their enemies abroad, while
we remain on the spot we have chosen as the scene of

our story, there to wait their return to make the
place once more the theatre of glorious conflict.

From this time, for a period of about two years,
there was a pause in the action of our story. Although
the events which formed its commencement
were intimately connected with those attending its
catastrophe, yet nothing occurred, during that interval,
particularly to vary the aspect of the one, or to
hasten the other. And the relative situation of all
the different individuals of our “dramatis personæ,”
from this time seperated and scattered in various directions,
remained nearly unaltered, till the tide of
war, combined with other circumstances, brought
them again together to figure on the scene of action
where we have thus far described them. We propose,
therefore, to pass lightly over this interval, and
with a few observations, by way of noticing the situation
and progress of affairs in the Hendee family
in the meanwhile, we shall proceed at once to the
closing period of our story.

From the hour of her supposed discovery of the
duplicity and base conduct of Warrington, life was
but a joyless blank to Alma Hendee. Although by
the fortitude and firmness of her character, aided by
female pride, which had been deeply wounded by
the mortifying developement, she had succeeded in
her determined efforts to keep from sinking under
the cruel disappointment, yet she could not but feel,
that the young affections, which she had thus lucklessly
suffered to entwine round the heart, and root
themselves in its very core, were withered, never to
be revived to their original freshness at the bidding
of another. In the unbounded confidence of her
youthful love, she had squandered her heart's best
treasures on one from whom neither pride nor principle

would longer suffer her to accept a return. And
she was deeply conscious, that she could never gather
them again, to bestow them on a more worthy object,
or where they would yield her the earthly happiness
to which she had begun to look so fondly forward
in her anticipated connection.

It is an interesting and beautiful trait in the character
of woman's affections, that she never truly
worships but at one altar. If that remains to her,
though no new attraction be added,—no new inducement
offered to ensure the continuance of her devotion,—she
asks no more, but worships on, and on,
more deeply and fervently, till the heart, that offers
the homage, ceases in death to cling to all earthly
objects. But if that is destroyed or removed,
the incense of her heart passes away with it.
She may, indeed, sometimes be found kneeling at
another shrine, and offering up the forms of devotion,
but the life, the spirit of the worship is forever
gone.

After the rupture between Miss Hendee and Warrington,
Sherwood became, for a while, unusually
constant in his visits at Captain Hendee's, and quite
assiduous in his attentions to the listless girl, to whom
they were offered. At his first call, after that event,
he soon, and with a malicious satisfaction, discovered
that the arts he had put in practice had been crowned
with success. This he not only read in her pale
face, in which the settled air of gloom and disappointment
were visibly depicted, but also in her altered,
and more respectful manner towards himself,
which, without any change of opinion respecting his
general character, she very naturally, though unconsciously,
perhaps, exhibited towards him, as to one
whom she now exhonerated from the particular charges

to which she believed him obnoxious. Having
satisfied himself of this state of things, he at first
cunningly forbore to renew his former pretensions to
her hand. In a short time, however, he began again
to make professions of attachment, and, without asking
of her any other than the tacit acquiesence she
had formerly yielded, talked of their engagement as
of a settled business, and as if nothing had occurred
to alter the relation formerly existing between them.
These addresses Alma rather suffered than received;
and the affair between them was, in this manner,
allowed by her to fall into much the same train
in which it was moving on Warrington's appearance.
And yet she still had but little thought of uniting
her destinies with those of Sherwood; but continuing
to hope that something would eventually occur
to save her from the dreaded fate, she permitted the
affair to glide along as she had formerly done, solely
out of regard to the feelings of her father and the
interests of the family. And, indeed, now, more than
ever, did it seem necessary, that the family should
avoid a rupture with Sherwood, as they were becoming
more and more dependent on his assistance.
With the breaking out of the revolution, the half
pay which Captain Hendee had before regularly received,
and which had constituted his main dependence,
ceased to be transmitted. And he was therefore
driven to avail himself, from time to time, of the
offers of Sherwood to loan him money to meet his
exigencies. In this manner Miss Hendee wore away
about two years of her dull and joyless existence,
finding nothing in the present to console or cheer
her desponding mind, and seeing nothing but clouds
and darkness in the future; when an incident occurred
that threw a new light upon her dark and
cheerless path, and produced a revolution in her
whole views and feelings, as sudden and complete,
as the event which caused it was singular and unexpected.