University of Virginia Library

9. CHAPTER IX.
FAITH AND BREAKFAST.

For two hours exactly, did Willie Sinclair sleep. He was
wrapped in slumber as soon as he had laid himself down, and
awoke at the designated time of limitation. Such is the result
of military habit. Sleep when you can, and wake always
when you will! Carrie was absent when he awakened, and he
had time to perform his ablutions before she reappeared. At
her return it was very natural that she should resume the subject
of his wooing, and of the damsel he had won. When was
a little bit of domestic history, having for its theme a love burden,
ever an ungrateful subject in youthful ears? But, in Carrie
Sinclair's case, it was the curiosity of a loving sister that
sought for his secret, and not an idle brain, or a silly fancy; and
she welcomed all his confidences with a genial love. The natural
satisfaction, nay, exultation, which he had displayed in revealing
his triumph, in the story of his successful wooing, was
fondly encountered by the sympathies of his sister. Carrie
Sinclair had no such prejudices as filled her father's bosom,
against the caste of the family in which her brother found his
sweetheart. At all events, her prejudices were not deep-rooted,
and constituted a sentiment rather than a feeling or a principle.
She readily believed that the lady whom Willie had chosen was
worthy to be her sister; and all the social barriers which she
fancied had really existed between her family and that into
which he proposed to marry, were dissipated by a breath. She
took Willie's hand into her own, and pressing it fondly, exclaimed:
—

“I must know her, Willie. I feel that I shall love her very
much. How can I else than love the woman whom you love?
But it will be a long struggle before you can overcome the
prejudices of papa. You don't know how angry the report

made him; how bitterly he spoke of Bertha, and you, and Captain
Travis. He has such a bad opinion of him, that I fear it
will be impossible to reconcile him to the match.”

“Never you fear, Carrie! Our good father is violent rather
than steadfast. He blazes out into a passion, yet very soon forgets
the passion; and where a passion is unreasonable, or where
it is founded on an error, it is very apt to burn out very soon in
such a nature as his. Besides, when he once knows Bertha—”

“But how is he to know her, Willie? How are we to
meet?”

“The world is always in motion, Carrie, and opportunity
stands at every man's elbow, sometime or other. You don't
suppose this war is to last for ever, Carrie?”

“I don't know. It seems so, Willie! New troops from
England, and—”

“The war is nearly burnt out now. These new troops are
all that England has to send; and these are Irish wholly,
whom the officers here can hardly trust! The English people
are even more tired of the war than we. It has exhausted
them; and they now feel, what they could not see, at the beginning
of the conflict, that what they might have gained by preventing
our Independence, is more than balanced by what they
lose in the sacrifice of our trade. I doubt if the war can last
another year. It would require some time to explain to you
why I think so, and this is not necessary. Besides, I have
other matters to tell about, of more immediate interest. I have
not told you, Carrie, that I have been chased hither this morning.”

“Chased, Willie, by whom?”

“By some of the most blood-thirsty ruffians of all the refugee
tories in the country. I was at Pete Blodgit's last night. I
have found that scoundrel out! He has been robbing us at a
fearful rate; forgetting all his obligation to us; was selling everything,
and hiding away the money! But I made the rogue
disgorge; and, but that I was vigilant, I might have been
brained with a billet for my pains.”

“Impossible! What, Blodgit, for whom we have done so
much! — whose mother we have fed, and nursed, and provided
for, as one of our own family?”

“Ay, and who would have requited us, for all, after a very
Christian fashion, by counselling her hopeful son to cut my
throat! I have found them both out.”

Here he told the much-wondering damsel all the story as it
is already known to us. At the close, he laid before her the
gold, the sight of which had proved so fatal to the virtues of
Dame Blodgit and her son.

“Half of the gold is yours, Carrie.”

“Keep it, Willie. I have no use for it.”

“No! Do you keep it; and should I have use for it, I will
know where to look. Keep secret that you have it, for the
possession of gold is a rare danger at this juncture; particularly
as the Barony is so poorly guarded; — my father laid up with
gout, and myself absent! There are little squads of scoundrels
all about the country, who will attempt anything desperate with
such a temptation in their eyes. Our father's relations with the
British secure him with them, while my connection with our
side affords him similar security with us. But the refugees,
whig and tory, are not to be restrained by either party, when
they find an opportunity for plunder; and your best security
now, is to conceal all objects of temptation.”

“They are plundering us now.”

“Of cattle, I know; but this must be endured. In fact, I
shall have to do a little of this business of cattle-plundering upon
the Barony, myself. But say nothing on this head — I do not
know, indeed, but that your recent losses have been by our own
people. At present, however, it is just as well that our father
should suppose the diminution of his fat steers to be due altogether
to the friendly aid of his loyalist connections. And now,
Carrie, better see to your house affairs. It is time for our father
to be stirring. See to him, and leave me here. Keep from him
the fact that I am here — for the present, at least. I suppose
it not likely that he will ask after me.”

“He speaks of you often enough, Willie.”

“But not lovingly, Carrie.”

“Yes, indeed, for he speaks angrily.”

“Ah! then there is hope.”

“Oh! yes, Willie; let the war but end, and all will be forgotten.”

“Ah! indeed! And he chuckles with the idea that his interposition
then will alone save me from the gallows; and this,
he fancies, will bring me to my knees! He dreams still as
fondly as ever of the final triumph of the king?”

“That he does; and you would be surprised to hear him argue
it out and prove it. To hear him first, and you afterward, I am left
in a condition of perfect bewilderment. You are both so equally
certain, and so satisfactory, that I believe neither of you. Not
knowing where to steer, I am thus kept afloat, like a ship under
opposing winds, sent to and fro, and never finding port or rest.”

The major of dragoons laughed.

“Drop anchor, then, and take in sail, and let the winds exhaust
themselves against each other. I shall see our father before
I depart; that is, if I observe anything to encourage me to
seek an interview; and then you may judge for yourself as to
the respective force of the opposing currents. Meanwhile,
that I may be justified for not showing myself just yet, you are
to remember that these refugees are about the premises. That
sneaking scoundrel Blodgit is with them, no doubt; and he
knows the place too well not to render it highly probable that
he will be prying about. I wish them to remain in doubt as to
my presence here. This will cause delay, and keep them in
the precinct.”

“And why do you wish that, Willie?”

“For a reason, Carrie, in which you, I fancy, have a certain
interest. I look to see Peyre St Julien here, in twelve hours!
Bless me, Carrie, child, how your face reddens!”

“And why should my face redden, I'd like to know?”

“Nay, that's what I'd like to know! Explain!”

“Really, Willie, you are looking monstrous wise of a sudden.”

“And you monstrous foolish! Fie, fie, Carrie, to try to keep
such a secret from your brother, from your own Willie, who has
always opened his heart to you, the moment he became conscious
of having a single sensation in it.” He had forgotten his
own secret, and she was too much flurried to think of the obvious
retort.

“Oh! Willie, I have never shut mine against you! Only—”

“Only in this instance, Carrie, when the bird you had caged
in it was quite too precious to be exposed to any eyes.”

“No! no! brother! It was I that told Peyre to tell you all.
I did, indeed, Willie.”

“Go! go! You are a foolish child! And why should you
not have told me all yourself?”

“I don't know; I tried to do so when we parted last, but
somehow—”

“Your heart failed you! Well, I suppose you have not ventured
to be more communicative with our father than with me.
He does not know how greatly Peyre St. Julien wishes to soar,
does he?”

“No, indeed! How could I tell him?”

“Ah! Carrie! what a cruel fate is ours! That we should
both run counter to all our papa's wishes. That we should
both love where he would prefer to hate. That we should do
those things that, in his creed, we are criminal to do; and leave
those things undone which he holds essential to his proper religion!
What an explosion there will be when he finds out
your secret. Mine was nothing to it; for you were always
his pet, Carrie; the apple of his eye — so perfect too — ha! ha!
ha! Poor Carrie, when he finds you out!”

“Oh, don't speak of it, Willie; pray don't.”

“How demure it makes you look!”

“Yes, Willie, it makes me very sad! to think how well he
loves me, and that I dare not tell him all.”

He took her proudly in his arms and kissed her.

“Be of good cheer, Carrie! all will come right. Have faith,
child — what's love without faith and will? I have both. I
love, and nothing doubt that I shall get the woman whom I
love! True, there are impediments, but I will overcome them;
rivals, but I will foil them; hostile papas, but I will soothe
them. I may have to fight for my wife, and I mean to do it, as
soon as the necessity shows itself for fight! But, this is one of
the very groundworks of my faith. It is assured, by my own
will to do all that is essential to the acquisition of its object!
and I will fight for your little heart too, my Carrie, so never despond!
Have faith, child, — and, away now and see after your
papa's and your brother's breakfast.”

“But when, Willie, do you say, that St. Julien is coming?”
asked Carrie, as she peeped obliquely at the mirror.

“Oh! you shall have ample time to make your toilet. Get
you gone now, before the old man grows impatient.”

The damsel disappeared. The brother remained alone. He
seized the occasion to attend to his own toilet; a duty which he
found very grateful of performance. This done, he was joined
suddenly by our quondam friend, Little Peter, who opened the
door cautiously, but without hesitation, and appeared, bringing
in a covered basket, the contents of which, smuggled from the
pantry, made the sufficient and palatable breakfast for our major
of dragoons.

“Breck'us, Mass Willie,” said Little Peter. Sinclair laughed
out to see the disproportion between the large negro and the little
basket: — the giant doing the duty of the dwarf. Peter laughed,
also, from sympathy, never once suspecting the occasion of his
young master's merriment.

“Peter, you must find that basket very heavy.”

“No heabby 'tall, Mass Willie. Chile kin carry 'em.”

Then, as the fellow caught the glance of his master's eye, he
understood the ridicule, and, setting down the basket hurriedly,
as if it were a snake, he forced himself into a second chuckle.

“And how's your master this morning, Peter?”

“Hah, Mass Willie! — ole maussa hab de fire in he foot. He's
in berry bad sperrits dis morning — kin do not'ing but cuss and
eat!”

“He has an appetite then, Peter?”

“Always kin eat when he cuss! He eat and cuss; and he
dunno how much he eat and cuss!”

“You ought to tell him, Peter.”

“Ki! Mass Willie; me tell ole maussa, how much he cuss
and eat!” And the negro laughed fairly at the insanity of the
suggestion.

“Well, Peter, let us see what you have for breakfast; for I
too, have an appetite. Spread out your commodities, and clear
out. You will be wanted behind your master's chair whenever
he feels the necessity to swear!”

Peter grinned understandingly, as he obeyed the order to
spread out the breakfast; then made a respectful bow, as saying,
“all's ready;” but still lingered. Sinclair knew by this
that he waited for more last words.

“Well, Peter, what would you say?”

“Benny Bowlegs say I mus'tell you, dere's two, t'ree, seben,
fibe, strange white men bin by de ab'nue gate. He look like
poor buckrah and cattle-tief. He bin day dis morning, but he
gone. Benny Bowlegs tell me, for tell you, dat he mus'hab
some talk wid you when you done you breck'us.”

“It must be here, then, Peter. Tell Benny to find some excuse
for coming to me here, and to come as soon as he pleases.”

“Oh! him kin come. I tell em:” — and, pulling at his wooltuft,
and scraping with his foot upon the floor, Little Peter disappeared.
He had scarcely gone, when Benny Bowlegs, not
waiting the permission he had solicited, entered the chamber
also. He brought with him the holsters of his young master,
wrapped up in the fragment of a blanket.

“I tink, Mass Willie,” said he, “dat you better hab dese
little bullpups yer, onder you own han'. Dere's no telling how
soon you may want 'em. De swode is good 'nough, when you
hab dem tory in chopping reach, but de pups kin keep guard on
door and winder.”

“What have you seen or heard, Benny?”

“I see, Mass Willie! I hab sight ob Hell-fire Dick, and
two, t'ree, sebben, fibe, udder hog and cattle tief, down
by the ab'nue gate. I 'speck day must ha' bin see me too, for
soon day gone clean out ob sight. I reckon day's all now cubber
up in de woods below. Day's a watching, Mass Willie.
Day's arter mischief dis mawning!”

“Did you see Pete Blodgit among them?”

“I nebber mek' out dat pusson; but I reckon he's jus' like de
buzzard, always hab a nose when der's a bullock to be skin and
clean.”

“Exactly! Keep a look out for him! Remember, above
all things, that he is not to have a notion that I am here! He
must not see my horse, or saddle, or bridle, or anything that he
will know as mine. And should he appear on the place, do
you, or Little Peter, keep an eye on him all the while he is
here; watch all his motions; and, should you see that he
discovers anything, clap hands on him at once, rope him, and
hide him away! Much depends on our blinding his eyes, Benny.”

“I'd radder bung 'em up fair, right away!” said the truculent
Benny Bowlegs, showing his enormous double fist, by way
of indicating the modus operandi in such a performance.

“Well, you need not mince matters with such a scoundrel;
only see that he makes no discoveries, and, should you suspect
him of any, then instantly rope and lock him up; but not otherwise.”

“Leff 'em to me, Mass Willie. I knows how to manage de
warmint. Don't you t'ink, Mass Willie, you better hab a poun'
or two ob dem powder and bullet you bring, yer in de house.”

“Why, old fellow, you don't think we're to have a siege?”

“I don' know, Mass Willie, but when Hell-fire Dick's about,
and hab t'ree, sebben, fibe pussons wid 'em, and der's no sodgers,
red coats or blue, anywhar, in these parts, I reckon it's
jest as well to be ready for de rapscallions.”

“You are right, perhaps, Benny.”

“I knows I'm right.”

“Well, do as you please; but do not let your movements be
seen or suspected.”

Benny's only answer to this caution, consisted in lifting his
forefinger to his left eye, and drawing down the lower lid. The
action said as clearly as words could have done:—

“Noting green yer, maussa.” Benny's experience and successes
had been such, that nobody suspected him of an unwise
vanity when he asserted his own wisdom and sagacity.

The interview ceased at this moment, and Benny disappeared,
walking with singular erectness, like a well-drilled grenadier
on parade. His ancient war spirit was returning fast.

Willie Sinclair was just finishing a formidable breakfast,
when his sister Carrie reappeared; — little Lottie remaining
with her father in the breakfast-room. Leaving brother and
sister to a long conversation, of much mutual interest to themselves
but none to us, let us now go forth, and see what progress
has been made by our ruffianly acquaintances, whom we
left in hot pursuit last night.