A SOLDIER OF VIRGINIA

A TALE OF COLONEL WASHINGTON AND BRADDOCK'S DEFEAT

BY BURTON EGBERT STEVENSON

1901

TO THE MEMORY OF THE GALLANT MEN WHO FELL WITH DUST OF FAILURE BITTER ONTHEIR LIPS THAT OTHERS MIGHT BE TAUGHT THE LESSON OF THE WILDERNESS

CONTENTS

 I. LIEUTENANT ALLEN GROWS INSULTING

 II. THE STORY OF FONTENOY

 III. IN WHICH I INTRODUCE MYSELF

 IV. THE ENDING OF THE HONEYMOON

 V. THE SECRET OF A HEART

 VI. I AM TREATED TO A SURPRISE

 VII. I DECIDE TO BE A SOLDIER

 VIII. A RIDE TO WILLIAMSBURG

 IX. MY FIRST TASTE OF WARFARE

 X. THE FRENCH SCORE FIRST

 XI. DREAM DAYS AT RIVERVIEW

 XII. DOROTHY MAKES HER CHOICE

 XIII. LIEUTENANT ALLEN SHOWS HIS SKILL

 XIV. I CHANCE UPON A TRAGEDY

 XV. WE START ON A WEARY JOURNEY

 XVI. THE END IN SIGHT

 XVII. THE LESSON OF THE WILDERNESS

 XVIII. DEFEAT BECOMES DISHONOR

 XIX. ALLEN AND I SHAKE HANDS

 XX. BRADDOCK PAYS THE PRICE

 XXI. VIRGINIA BIDS US WELCOME

 XXII. A NEW DANGER AT RIVERVIEW

 XXIII. THE GOVERNOR SHOWS HIS GRATITUDE

 XXIV. A WARNING FROM THE FOREST

 XXV. I FIND MYSELF IN A DELICATE SITUATION

 XXVI. A DESPERATE DEFENSE

 XXVII. I COME INTO MY OWN

 XXVIII. AND SO, GOOD-BY

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

"I DO NOT LOVE HIM, TOM"

"FOR SHAME, GENTLEMEN!"

"STEWART, LISTEN!"

THE SAVAGES POURED OVEB THE THRESHOLD

A SOLDIER OF VIRGINIA

CHAPTER I

LIEUTENANT ALLEN GROWS INSULTING

It was not until he sneered at me openly across the board that I felt myself-control slipping from me. "Lieutenant Allen seems to have a pooropinion of the Virginia troops, " I said, as calmly as I could. 

"Egad, you are right, Lieutenant Stewart, " he retorted, his eyes fullon mine. "These two weeks past have I been trying to beat some senseinto the fools, and 'pon my word, 't is enough to drive a man crazy tosee them. "

He paused to gulp down a glass of wine, of which I thought he had alreadydrunk too much. 

"I saw them this forenoon, " cried Preston, who was sitting at Allen'sright, "and was like to die of laughing. Poor Allen, there, was doing hisbest to teach them the manual, and curse me if they didn't hold theirguns as though they burnt their fingers. And when they were ordered to'bout face, they looked like nothing so much as the crowd I saw sixmonths since at Newmarket, trying to get their money on Jason. "

The others around the table laughed in concert, and I could not butadmit there was a grain of truth in the comparison. 

"'Tis granted, " I said, after a moment, "that we Virginians have not thetraining of you gentlemen of the line; but we can learn, and at least noone can doubt our courage. "

"Think you so?" and Allen laughed an insulting laugh. "There was thatlittle brush at Fort Necessity last year, from which they brought awaynothing but their skins, and damned glad they were to do that. "

"They brought away their arms, " I cried hotly, "and would have broughtaway all their stores and munitions, had the French kept faith and heldtheir Indians off. That, too, in face of an enemy three times theirnumber. The Virginians have no cause to blush for their conduct at FortNecessity. The Coldstreams could have done no better. "

Allen laughed again. "Ah, pardon me, Stewart, " he said contemptuously, "Iforgot that you were present on that glorious day. "

I felt my cheeks crimson, and I looked up and down the board, but sawonly sneering faces. Yes, there was one, away down at the farther end, which did not sneer, but looked at me I thought pityingly, which wasinfinitely worse. And then, of course, there was Pennington, who sat nextto me, and who looked immeasurably shamed at the turn the dispute hadtaken. He placed a restraining hand upon my sleeve, but I shook it offimpatiently. 

"Yes, I was present, " I answered, my heart aflame within me, "and ourprovincial troops learned a lesson there which even the gentlemen of theForty-Fourth may one day be glad to have us teach them. "

"Teach us?" cried Allen. "Curse me, sir, but you grow insulting! As foryour learning, permit me to doubt your ability to learn anything. I havebeen trying to teach you provincials the rudiments of drill for the pastfortnight, without success. In faith, you seem to know less now than youdid before I began. "

"Yes?" I asked, my anger quite mastering me. "But may not that be thefault of the teacher, Lieutenant Allen?"

He was out of his chair with an oath, and would have come across thetable at me, but that those on either side held him back. 

"I suppose you considered your words before you spoke them, LieutenantStewart?" asked Preston, looking at me coldly, and still keeping tighthold on the swearing man at his side. 

"Fully, " I answered, as I arose from my chair. 

"You know, of course, that there remains only one thing to be done?" hecontinued, with a glance I thought compassionate, and so resented. 

"Certainly, " I answered again. "I may be able to teach the gentleman avery pretty thrust in tierce. "

Upon this Allen fell to cursing again, but Preston silenced him with agesture of his hand. 

"I am very willing, " I added, "to give him the lesson at once, if he sodesires. There is a charming place just without. I marked it as I passedto enter here, though with no thought I should so soon have need of it. "

Now all this was merely the empty braggartry of youth, which I blush toremember. Nor was Allen the blustering bully I then deemed him, as I wasafterwards to find out for myself. But I know of nothing which will sogloss over and disguise a man's real nature as a glass of wine too much. 

"I shall be happy to give the lesson at once, " I repeated. 

"Yes, at once!" cried Allen savagely. "I'll teach you, sir, to keep acivil tongue in your head when you address an officer of the line. "

"It seems that we are both to learn a lesson, then, " I said lightly. "Itremains only to be seen which is the better teacher. Will one of theother gentlemen present act as my second?"

"I shall be happy to do so, Lieutenant Stewart, " cried my neighbor, stepping forward. 

"Ah, Lieutenant Pennington, thank you, " and I looked into his face withpleasure, for it was the one, of all those present, which I liked thebest. "Will you arrange the details for me?"

"May I speak to you a moment first?" he asked, looking at me anxiously. 

"Certainly, " I answered, and together we walked over to one cornerof the room. 

"Believe me, Lieutenant Stewart, " he said, in a low voice, "I deem you abrave man, and I honor you for defending the credit of your countrymen. I little thought, when I invited you to dine with us to-night, that therewould be an issue such as this, for it can end in but one way. Allen isthe best swordsman in the regiment, and a very devil when he is flushedwith wine, as he is now. "

"You would have me decline to meet him, then?" I asked, looking athim steadily. 

"A word of apology, " he stammered, but he did not meet my eyes. His heartwas not in his words. 

"Impossible, " I said. "You forget that it was he who insulted me, andthat an apology, if there be one, must come from him. He has insulted notonly myself, but the whole body of Virginia volunteers. Though I werecertain he would kill me, I could not draw back in honor. But I am not socertain, " and I smiled down into his face. "There be some good swordsmeneven in Virginia, sir. "

"In faith, I am wondrous glad to hear it!" he cried, his facebrightening. "I could not do less than warn you. "

"And I thank you for your interest. "

He held out his hand, and I clasped it warmly. Then we turned again tothe group about the table. 

"Well, " cried Allen harshly, "does our Virginia friend desire towithdraw?"

"On the contrary, " answered Pennington quietly, "he has positivelyrefused to withdraw, " and as he spoke, I saw that the others looked at mewith attentive eyes. "There is a little green just back of the barracks. Let us proceed to it, " and he led the way toward the door. 

Allen and I followed him, and the whole rabble of officers crowded after. In a moment we were at the place, and I walked to one side while theseconds conferred together. The full moon had risen above the treetopsand flooded the clearing with still radiance. The tall, coarse grasswaved slowly to and fro in the faint breeze, and away off in the forest Iheard a wolf howling. The note, long and clear, rose and quivered in theair, faint and far away. And as it died to silence, for the first timethe thought came to me that perchance my skill in fence might not avail. Well, thank heaven, there was none to whom my death would cause muchsorrow, except--yes, Dorothy might care. At thought of her, the forestfaded from before me, and I saw her again as I had seen her last, lookingdown upon me from the stair-head, and her kiss was warm upon my lips. 

"We are ready, Lieutenant Stewart, " called Pennington, and I shook myforebodings from me as I strode back toward him. 

"Lieutenant Allen instructs me to say, " began Preston, who was acting ashis second, "that an apology on the part of Lieutenant Stewart will avertconsequences which may, perhaps, be unpleasant. "

"Lieutenant Stewart has no apologies to offer, " I said shortly. "We arewasting time, gentlemen. "

"As you will, " and Preston turned back to Allen. 

My coat was off in an instant, and I rolled the sleeve of my shirt abovemy elbow, the better to have it out of the way. 

"May I have your sword, lieutenant?" asked Pennington, and he walked withit over to where Preston stood. He was back in a moment. "Allen's swordis fully an inch the longer, " he said. "I have insisted that he secure ashorter weapon. "

"Nonsense!" I cried. "Let him keep his sword. I am two or three inchesthe taller, and the advantage will still be on my side. "

Pennington looked at me a moment in something like astonishment. 

"Very well, " he said at last, and stepped over and spoke another word toPreston. Then he came back and handed me my sword. "You are a gallantman, Lieutenant Stewart, " he said as he did so. 

"No more than many others in Virginia. 'T is that I mean to proveto-night, " I answered lightly, and I saluted my adversary and felt hisblade against my own. The first pass showed me that he was master of theweapon, but I was far from dismayed. I saw his eyes widen with surpriseas I parried his thrust and pressed him so closely that he gave back astep. I smiled dryly, for I knew my advantage. The earliest lesson I hadlearned at the foils was that victory comes only to the man who keeps hiscoolness. I had drunk little wine, while Allen had drunk much, and hisbloodshot eyes told of previous nights spent over the cups and dice. No, decidedly, I had little to fear. Allen must have read something of mythought in my eyes, for his face flushed to a yet darker crimson, hepulled himself together with an effort, and by a trick which I had neverseen, got inside my guard. His point was at my breast, but I leaped backand avoided it. 

"Ah, you break!" he cried. "'Tis not so easy as you fancied!"

I did not answer, contenting myself with playing more cautiously than Ihad done in my self-satisfaction of a moment before. Out of the cornersof my eyes, I could see a portion of the circle of white faces about us, but they made no sound, and what their expression was I could not tell. The night air and the fast work were doing much to sober my opponent, andI felt his wrist grow stronger as he held down my point for an instant. It was his turn to smile, and I felt my cheeks redden at the expressionof his face. Again he got inside my guard, but again I was out of reachere he could touch me. I saw that I was making but a sorry showing, and Itried the thrust of which I had had the bad taste to boast, but he turnedit aside quite easily. And then, of a sudden, I heard the beat of ahorse's hoofs behind me. 

"For shame, gentlemen!" cried a clear voice, which rang familiar in myears. "Can the king's soldiers find no enemies to his empire that theymust fight among themselves?"

Our seconds struck up our swords, and Allen looked over my shoulderwith a curse. 

"Another damned provincial, upon my life!" he cried. "Was there ever suchimpudence!"

[Illustration: "FOR SHAME GENTLEMEN!"]

As he spoke, the horseman swung himself from the saddle with an easygrace which declared long training in it, and walked coolly toward us. 

"Lieutenant Stewart, " he said to me sternly, "I did not think to findyou thus engaged, else had I thought twice before placing a sword inyour hand. "

"The insult was one which could not be passed over, Colonel Washington, "I answered, as I saluted him. "It was not to myself only, but to all theVirginia troops who serve his Majesty. "

"So, " sneered Allen, "'t is the hero of Fort Necessity! I can wellbelieve him averse to fighting. "

My cheeks were hot with anger and I saw Washington flush darkly, but hegazed at Allen coldly, and his voice was calm as ever when he spoke. 

"It shall be my privilege at some future time, " he said, "to call thegentleman to account for his words. At present, my sword is pledged tothe king and may be drawn in no other service, more especially not in myown. I trust, Lieutenant Stewart, you will have the courage to sheatheyour blade. "

I hesitated. It was a hard thing to ask a man to do. 

"Yes, put up your sword!" cried Allen scornfully. "Allow yourself to bereproved like a naughty boy by this hero who knows only how to retreat. On my soul, 't was well he arrived when he did. I should have finishedwith you long ere this. "

Washington looked at me steadily, without showing by the movement of amuscle that he had heard. 

"And I promise you, Lieutenant Stewart, " he continued, as though therehad been no interruption, "that I shall be happy to act as your second, once this campaign is closed. "

My cheeks flushed again, this time with pleasure, and I picked up myscabbard and sent my blade home. 

"I must beg you to excuse me, Lieutenant Allen, " I said. "ColonelWashington says right. My sword is not my own until we have met theFrench. Then I shall be only too pleased to conclude the argument. "

Allen's lips curved in a disdainful smile. 

"I thought you would be somewhat less eager to vindicate the courage ofVirginia once you had pause for reflection, " he sneered. "Provincials areall of a kind, and the breed is not a choice one. "

I bit my lips to keep back the angry retort which leaped to them, and Isaw Washington's hand trembling on his sword. It did me good to see thateven he maintained his calmness only by an effort. 

"Oh, come, Allen, " cried Pennington, "you go too far. There can be noquestion of Lieutenant Stewart's courage. He was ready enough to meetyou, God knows! Colonel Washington is right, our swords belong to theking while he has work for them, " and the young fellow, with flushedface, held out his hand to Washington, who grasped it warmly. 

"I thank you, " he said simply. "I should be sorry to believe that all theking's officers could so far forget their duty. Come, lieutenant, " headded to me, and taking me by the arm, he walked me out of the group, which opened before us, and I ventured to think that not all of the faceswere unfriendly. "I have a message for Sir Peter Halket, " he said, whenwe were out of earshot. "Show me his quarters, Tom, and so soon as I havefinished my business, we will talk over this unhappy affair. "

I led the way toward the building where the commander of the Forty-Fourthwas quartered, too angry with myself and with the world to trust myselfto speak. Why should I, who came of as good family as any in Virginia, becompelled to swallow insults as I had to-night? I almost regretted forthe moment that I was in the service. 

"But the time will come, " I said, speaking aloud before I thought. 

"Yes, the time will come, Tom, " and Washington looked at me with a grimsmile. "The time will come sooner than you think, perhaps, when thesebraggarts will be taught a lesson which they greatly need. Pray heaventhe lesson be not so severe that it shake the king's empire on thiscontinent. "

"Shake the king's empire?" I repeated, looking at him in amazement. "Ido not understand. "

"No matter, " he said shortly. "Here we are at headquarters. Do you waitfor me. I will be but a moment;" and he ran up the steps, spoke a word tothe sentry, and disappeared within. 

CHAPTER II

THE STORY OF FONTENOY

My heart was thick with wrath as I walked up and down before Sir PeterHalket's quarters and waited for Colonel Washington to reappear. I askedmyself again why I should be compelled to take the insults of any man. Iclenched my hands together behind me, and swore that Allen should yet paydearly. I recalled with bitterness the joy I had felt a week before, whenI had received from Colonel Washington a letter in which he stated thathe had procured my appointment as lieutenant in Captain Waggoner'sVirginia company. I had been ahungered to make the campaign, and haddonned my uniform with a light heart, --the same I had worn the yearbefore, now much faded but inexpressibly dear to me, --mounted my horse, and ridden hotfoot to join the force here at Winchester. I had beenreceived kindly enough by my companion officers of the provincialcompanies, many of whom were old friends. The contempt which the officersof the Forty-Fourth felt for the Virginia troops, and which they were atno pains to conceal, had vexed me somewhat from the first, yet it was notuntil to-night at the officers' mess, to which I had foolishly acceptedPennington's invitation, that this contempt had grown unbearable. I hadchanced to pull Pennington's horse out of a hole the day before, and sosaved it a broken leg, but I saw now that I should have done better torefuse that invitation, courteously as it was given, and sincere as hisgratitude had undoubtedly been. 

So I walked up and down with a sore heart, as a child will when it hasbeen punished for no fault, and prayed that we provincials might yetteach the regulars a lesson. Yet they were brave men, most of them, whomI could not but admire. A kindlier, gallanter roan than Sir Peter HalketI had never seen, no, nor ever shall see. I noted the sentries pacingtheir beats before the colonel's quarters, erect, automatons, their gunsa-glitter in the moonlight, their uniforms immaculate. I had seen themdrill the day before, whole companies moving like one man, their ranksstraight as a ramrod, --tramp, tramp, --turning as on a pivot moved by asingle will. It was a wonderful sight to me who had never seen the likebefore, they were so strong, so confident, so seemingly invincible. 

I turned and glanced again at the sentries, almost envying them theirperfect carriage. Had they been men of iron, worked by a spring, theycould not have moved with more clock-like regularity. And yet, no doubt, they had one time been country louts like any others. Truly there wasmuch virtue in discipline. Yet still, and here I shook my head, theVirginia troops were brave as any in the world, and would prove it. Fromthe officers' quarters came the sound of singing and much laughter, and Iflushed as I thought perchance it was at me they laughed. I have learnedlong since that no man's laughter need disturb rue, so my heart be clear, but this was wisdom far beyond my years and yet undreamed of, and I shookmy fist at the row of lighted windows. 

"What, still fuming, Tom?" cried a voice at my elbow, and I turned tofind Colonel Washington there; "and staring over toward the barracks asthough you would like to gobble up every one within! Well, I admit youhave cause, " he added, and I saw that his face grew stern. "You may haveto bear many such insults before the campaign is ended, but I hope andbelieve that the conduct of the Virginia troops will yet win them therespect of the regulars. You seem to have lost no time in getting tocamp, " he added, in a lighter tone. 

"There was nothing to keep me at Riverview, " I answered bitterly. "Myabsence is much preferred to my presence there. Had I not come toWinchester, I must have gone somewhere else. Your letter came mostopportunely. "

"You are out of humor to-night, Tom, " said Washington, but his tone waskindly, and he placed one hand upon my arm as we turned back toward thecabin where my quarters were. He was scarce three years my senior, yet tome he seemed immeasurably the elder. I had always thought of him as of aman, and I verily believe he was a man in mind and temper while yet a boyin body. I had ridden beside him many times over his mother's estate, andI had noticed--and chafed somewhat at the knowledge--that women mucholder than he always called him Mr. Washington, while even that littlechit of a Polly Johnston called me Tom to my face, and laughed at me whenI assumed an air of injured dignity. I think it was the fact that mytemper was so the opposite of his own which drew him to me, and as formyself, I was proud to have such a friend, and of the chance to marchwith him again over the mountains against the French. 

He knew well how to humor me, and walked beside me, saying nothing. Iglanced at his face, half shamed of my petulance, and I saw that he wasno longer smiling. His lips were closed in that firm straight line whichI had already seen once or twice, and which during years of trial becamehabitual to him. My own petty anger vanished at the sight. 

"I have not yet thanked you, Colonel Washington, " I said at last, "forsecuring me my appointment. I was eating my heart out to make thecampaign, but saw no way of doing so until your message reached me. "

"Why, Tom, " he laughed, "you were the first of whom I thought whenGeneral Braddock gave me leave to fill some of the vacancies. Did youthink I had so soon forgot the one who saved my life at Fort Necessity?"

I opened my mouth to protest, but he silenced me with a gesture. 

"I can see it as though it were here before us, " he continued. "TheFrench and Indians on the knoll yonder, my own men kneeling in thetrenches, almost waist-deep in water, trying in vain to keep their powderdry; here and there a wounded man lying in the mud and cursing, the rainand mist over it all, and the night coming on. And then, suddenly, therush of Indians at our back, and over the breastwork. I had my pistol inmy hand, you remember, Tom, but the powder flashed in the pan, and theforemost of the savages was upon me. I saw his tomahawk in the air, and Iremember wondering who would best command when I was dead. But your aimwas true and your powder dry, and when the tomahawk fell, it fellharmless, with its owner upon it. "

For a moment neither of us spoke. My eyes were wet at thought of thescene which I so well remembered, and when I turned to him, I saw that hewas still brooding over this defeat, which had rankled as a poisonedarrow in his breast ever since that melancholy morning we had marchedaway from the Great Meadows with the French on either side and theIndians looting the baggage in the rear. As we reached my quarters, weturned by a common impulse and continued onward through the darkness. 

"This expedition must be more fortunate, " he said at last, as though inanswer to his own thought. "A thousand regulars, as many moreprovincials, guns, and every equipage, --yes, it is large enough andstrong enough, unless"--

"Unless?" I questioned, as he paused. 

"Unless we walk headlong to our own destruction, " he said. "But no, Iwon't believe it. The general has been bred in the Coldstreams andknows nothing of frontier fighting. But he is a brave man, an honestman, and he will learn. Small wonder he believes in discipline afterserving half a century in such a regiment. Have you ever heard thestory of their fight at Fontenoy, ten years since, when they lost twohundred and forty men? I heard it three nights ago at the general'stable, and 't was enough to make a man weep for very pity that suchvalor should count for naught. "

"Tell it me, " I cried, for if there is one thing I love above allothers, --yea, even yet, when I must sit useless by, --it is the tale ofbrave deeds nobly done. 

"'T was on the eleventh day of May, seventeen forty-five, " he said, "thatthe English and the Dutch met the French, who were under Marshal Saxe. Louis the Fifteenth himself was on the field, with the Grand Dauphin byhis side and a throng of courtiers about him, for he knew how muchdepended on the issue of this battle. A redoubt, held by the famousGuards, bristling with cannon, covered the French position. The Dutch, appalled at the task before them, refused to advance, but his Grace ofCumberland, who commanded the English, rose equal to the moment. Heformed his troops in column, the Coldstreams at its head, and gave theword for the assault. The batteries thundered, the redoubt was crownedwith flame, but the Coldstreams turned neither to the right nor left. Straight on they marched, --to annihilation, as it seemed, --reforming asthey went, over hill and gully, as steadily as on parade. At last theyreached their goal, and an instant's silence fell upon the field as theyfaced the French. The English officers raised their hats to theiradversaries, who returned the salute as though they were at Versailles, not looking in the eyes of death. 

"'Gentlemen of the French Guard, ' cried Lord Charles Hay, 'fire, ifyou please. '

"'Impossible, monsieur, ' cried the Count of Hauteroche; 'the FrenchGuards never fire first. Pray, fire yourselves. '

"The order was given, and the French ranks fell as grain before thesickle. They gave way, the Coldstreams advancing in perfect order, firingvolley after volley. The officers, with their rattans, turned the men'smuskets to the right or left, as need demanded. Nothing could stop thatterrible approach, resistless as a whirlwind, and French and Swiss brokethemselves against it, only to be dashed back as spray from a rockycoast. Regiment after regiment was repulsed, and the Coldstreams stilladvanced. Saxe thought the battle lost, and begged the king and thedauphin to flee while time permitted. At the last desperate moment, herallied the artillery and all the forces of his army for a final effort. The artillery was massed before the English, and they had none to answerit. The king himself led the charge against their flanks, which the Dutchshould have protected. But the Dutch preferred to remain safely in therear. The Coldstreams stood their ground, reforming their ranks withperfect coolness, until Cumberland saw it were madness to remain, andordered the retreat. And it was more glorious than the advance. With onlyhalf their number on their feet, they faced about, without disorder, their ranks steady and unwavering, and moved off sullenly and slowly, asthough ready at any moment to turn again and rend the ranks of thevictors. It was a deed to match Thermopylae. "

I lifted my hat from my head, and my lips were trembling. 

"I salute them, " I said. "'T was well done. And was General Braddockpresent on that day?"

"He commanded one battalion of the regiment. It was for his gallantrythere that he was promoted to the senior majorship. "

"I shall not forget it. " And then I added, "Perhaps the story you havetold me will give me greater patience with our drill-master. "

"I trust so, at least, " said Washington, with a smile; "else I fear therewill be little peace for you in the army. I was affected by the story, Tom, no less than you have been, but after I had left the hall, with itsglamour of lights and gold lace and brilliant uniforms, I wondered ifthis discipline would count amid the forests of the Ohio as it did on theplains of Europe. I fancy, in the battle that is to come, there will beno question of who shall fire first, and a regiment which keeps itsformation will be a fair mark for the enemy. Do you know, Tom, my greathope is that the French will send a scouting party of their Indian alliesto ambush us, and that in defeating them, our commander may learnsomething of the tactics which he must follow to defeat the French. "

As for myself, I confess I shared none of these forebodings, and welcomedthe chance to turn our talk to a more cheerful subject. 

"But about yourself?" I questioned. "There is much I wish to know. Untilyour note reached me, I had not heard a word from you since you rode awayfrom Mount Vernon with Dinwiddie's messenger. "

His face cleared, and he looked at me with a little smile. 

"We went direct to Williamsburg, " he said, "where I first met thegeneral, and told him what I know about the country which he has tocross. He treated me most civilly, despite some whisperings which went onbehind my back, and shortly after sent me a courteous invitation to serveon his staff. Of course I accepted, --you know how it irked me to remainat home, --but I gave him at the same time a statement of my reason forquitting the Virginia service, --that I could not consent to be outrankedby every subaltern who held a commission from the king. "

I nodded, for the question was not new to me, and had already caused memuch heart-burning. It was not until long afterwards that I saw thegeneral's letter among Mrs. Washington's treasures at Mount Vernon, butit seems to me worthy of reproduction here. Thus it ran:--

WILLIAMSBURG, 2 March, 1755. 

Sir, --The General having been informed that you expressed some desire tomake the campaign, but that you declined it upon some disagreeablenessthat you thought might arise from the regulations of command, has orderedme to acquaint you that he will be very glad of your company in hisfamily, by which all inconveniences of that kind will be obviated. 

I shall think myself very happy to form an acquaintance with a person souniversally esteemed, and shall use every opportunity of assuring you howmuch I am, Sir, your most obedient servant, ROBERT ORME, Aide-de-Camp. 

Had Braddock heeded the advice of the man whom he asked to join hisfamily, the event might have been different. But I must not anticipate, and I find my hardest task in writing what is before me is to escape theshadow of the disaster which was to come. At that time, and, indeed, until the storm burst, few of us had penetration to discern the cloud onthe horizon, --Colonel Washington, Mr. Franklin, and a few others, perhaps, but certainly not I. It is easy to detect mistakes after theevent, and to conduct a campaign on paper, yet few who saw that martialarray of troops, with its flying banners and bright uniforms, would haveordered the advance differently. 

But to return. 

"It was not until three days ago, " continued Washington, "that I was ableto rejoin the general, and he intrusted me with a message to ColonelHalket, which I delivered this evening. I must start back to Mount Vernonto-morrow and place my affairs in order, and will then join the army atCumberland, whence the start is to be made. "

"And what make of man is the general?" I asked. 

A cloud settled on Washington's face. 

"Why, Tom, " he said at last, "I have seen so little of him that I maymisjudge him. He is at least brave and honest, two great things in acommander. As for the rest, it is yet too soon to judge. But you havetold me nothing about your affairs. How did you leave them all atRiverview?"

"I left them well enough, " I answered shortly. 

Washington glanced keenly at my downcast face, for indeed the memory ofwhat had occurred at Riverview was not pleasant to me. 

"Did you quarrel with your aunt before you came away?" he asked quietly. 

"Yes, " I said, and stopped. How could I say more?

"I feared it might come to that, " he said gravely. "Your position therehas been a false one from the start. And yet I see no way to amend it. "

We walked on in silence for some time, each busy with his own thoughts, and mine at least were not pleasant ones. 

"Tom, " said Washington suddenly, "what was the quarrel about? Was itabout the estate?"

"Oh, no, " I answered. "We shall never quarrel about the estate. We havealready settled all that. It was something quite different. "

I could not tell him what it was; the secret was not my own. 

He looked at me again for a moment, and then, stopping suddenly, wheeledme around to face him, and caught my hand. 

"I think I can guess, " he said warmly, "and I wish you everyhappiness, Tom. "

My lips were trembling so I could not thank him, but I think he knew whatwas in my heart. 

CHAPTER III

IN WHICH I INTRODUCE MYSELF

I doubt not that by this time the reader is beginning to wonder who thisfellow is that has claimed his attention, and so, since there is no oneelse to introduce me, I must needs present myself. 

It so happened that when that stern old lion, Oliver Cromwell, crushedthe butterfly named Charles Stuart at Worcester in the dim dawn of thethird day of September, 1651, and utterly routed the army of that unhappyprince, one Thomas Stewart fell into the hands of the Roundheads, as, indeed, did near seven thousand others of the Royalist army. Now thisThomas Stewart had very foolishly left a pretty estate in Kincardine, together with a wife and two sturdy boys, to march under the banner ofthe Princeling, as he conceived to be his duty, and after giving andtaking many hard knocks, here he was in the enemy's hands, and CharlesStuart a fugitive. They had one and all been declared by Parliamentrebels and traitors to the Commonwealth, so the most distinguished of thecaptives were chosen for examples to the rest, and three of them, theEarl of Derby among the number, were sent forthwith to the block, wherethey comported themselves as brave men should, and laid down their headsright cheerfully. 

The others were sent to prison, since it was manifestly impossible toexecute them all, --nor was Cromwell so bloodthirsty, now the rebellionwas broken utterly, --and some sixteen hundred of them were sentenced tobe transported to the colony of Virginia, which had long been a dumpingground for convicts and felons and political scapegoats. Hither, then, they came, in ships crowded to suffocation, and many dead upon the wayand thrown to the sharks for burial, but for some reason only one of theships stopped here, while the others went on to Barbados to dischargetheir living freight. I more than suspect that Cromwell's agents soondiscovered the Commonwealth had few friends in Virginia, and feared theeffect of letting loose here so many of the Royalist soldiers. At anyrate, this one ship dropped anchor at Hampton, and its passengers, to thenumber of about three hundred, were sold very cheaply to the neighboringplanters. I may as well say here that all of them were well treated bytheir Cavalier masters, and many of them afterwards became the foundersof what are now the most prominent families in the colony. 

Now one of those who had been sold in Virginia was the Thomas Stewartwhom I have already mentioned, and whom neither stinking jail nor crowdedtransport had much affected. Doubtless, no matter what the surroundings, he had only to close his eyes to see again before him the green hillsand plashing brooks of Kincardine, with his own home in the midst, andthe bonny wife waiting at the door, a boy on either side. Alas, it wasonly thus he was ever to see them this side heaven. He was bought by aman named Nicholas Spenser, who owned a plantation on the Potomac inWestmoreland County, and there he worked, first as laborer and then asoverseer, for nigh upon ten years. His master treated him with greatkindness, and at the Restoration, having made tenfold his purchase moneyby him, gave him back his freedom. 

Despite the years and the hard work in the tobacco-fields, Stewart'sthoughts had often been with the wife and children he had left behind inScotland, and he prevailed upon Spenser to secure him passage in one ofhis ships for London, where he arrived early in 1662. He made his wayback to Kincardine, where he found his estate sequestered, his wife andone child dead in poverty, the other disappeared. From a neighbor helearned that the boy had run away to sea after his mother's death, butwhat his fate had been he never knew. Weary and disheartened, Stewartretraced his steps to London, and after overcoming obstacles innumerable, occasioned mostly by his want of money, laid his case before the king. Charles listened to him kindly enough, for his office had not yet grown aburden to him, and finally granted him a patent for two thousand acres ofland along the upper Potomac. It was a gift which cost the king nothing, and one of a hundred such he bestowed upon his favorites as another manwould give a crust of bread for which he had no use. Stewart returned toVirginia with his patent in his pocket, and built himself a home in whatwas then a wilderness. 

In five or six years he had cleared near three hundred acres of land, hadit planted in sweet-scented tobacco, for which the Northern Neck wasalways famous, bought two-score negroes to tend it, and began to seelight ahead. It was at this time that he met Marjorie Usner, while on avisit to Williamsburg, and he married her in 1670, having in the meantime erected a more spacious residence than the rude log-hut which hadpreviously been his home. He was at that time a man nigh fifty years ofage, but handsome enough, I dare say, and well preserved by his life ofoutdoor toil. Certainly Mistress Marjorie, who must have been muchyounger, made him a good wife, and when he died, in 1685, he left a sonand a daughter, besides an estate valued at several thousands of pounds, accumulated with true Scottish thrift. It was this daughter who named theestate Riverview, and though the house was afterwards remodeled, the namewas never changed. The Stewarts continued to live there, marrying andgiving in marriage, and growing ever wealthier, for the next halfcentury, at the end of which time occurred the events that brought meinto being. 

In 1733, Thomas Stewart, great-grandson of the Scotsman, was master ofRiverview. His portrait, which hangs to-day to the left of the fireplacein the great hall, shows him a white-haired, red-faced, cholericgentleman, with gray eyes and proudly smiling mouth. He had been chosen amember of the House of Burgesses, as had his father before him, and wasone of the most considerable men in the county. His son, Tom, was justtwenty-one, and had inherited from his father the hasty temper andinvincible stubbornness which belong to all the Stewarts. 

It was in the fall of 1733 that they made the trip to Williamsburg whichwas to have such momentous consequences. The House of Burgesses was insession, and Mr. Stewart, as the custom was, took his whole family withhim to the capital. I fancy I can see them as they looked that day. Thegreat coach, brought from London at a cost of so many thousand pounds oftobacco, is polished until it shines again. The four horses are harnessedto it, and Sambo, mouth stretched from ear to ear, drives it around tothe front of the mansion, where a broad flight of stone steps leadsdownward from the wide veranda. The footmen and outriders spring to theirplaces, their liveries agleam with buckles, the planter and his lady andtheir younger son enter the coach, while young Tom mounts his horse andprepares to ride by the window. The odorous cedar chests containing mylady's wardrobe are strapped behind or piled on top, the negroes form agrinning avenue, the whip cracks, and they are off, half a dozen servantsfollowing in an open cart. It is a four days' journey to Williamsburg, over roads whose roughness tests the coach's strength to the uttermostbut it is the one event of all the year to this isolated family, andsmall wonder that they look forward to it with eager anticipation. 

Once arrived at Williamsburg, what craning of necks and waving ofhandkerchiefs and kissing of hands to acquaintances, as the coach rollsalong the wide, white, sandy street, scorching in the sun, with thegovernor's house, called by courtesy a palace, at one end, and theCollege of William and Mary at the other, and perhaps two hundredstraggling wooden houses in between. The coaches and chariots which linethe street give earnest of the families already assembled from PrincessAnn to Fairfax and the Northern Neck. My lady notes that the Burkes haveat last got them a new chariot from London, and her husband looks withappreciative eyes at the handsome team of matched grays which draw it. Asfor young Tom, his eyes, I warrant, are on none of these, but on the bevyof blooming girls who promenade the side-path, arrayed in silks andsatins and brocades, their eyes alight, their cheeks aglow with the joyof youth and health. Small blame to him, say I, for that is just where myown eyes would have been. 

That very night Governor Gooch gave a ball at his palace, and be sure theStewart family was there, my lady in her new London gown of flowereddamask in the very latest mode, and Tom in his best suit of peach-blossomvelvet, and in great hopes of attracting to himself some of the brighteyes he had seen that afternoon. Nor was he wholly unsuccessful, for onepair of black eyes rested on his for a moment, --they were those ofMistress Patricia Wyeth, --and he straightway fell a victim to theircharms, as what young man with warm heart and proper spirit would not?Young Tom must himself have possessed unusual attractions, or a boldnessin wooing which his son does not inherit, for at the end of a week hedisturbed his father at his morning dram to inform him that he andMistress Patricia had decided to get married. 

"Married!" cried the elder Stewart. "Why, damme, sir, do you know who theWyeths are?"

"I know who Patricia is, " answered young Tom very proudly, his headwell up at this first sign of opposition. "I care naught about therest of them. "

"But I care, sir!" shouted his father. "Why, the girl won't have ashilling to bless herself with. Old Wyeth has gambled away every penny hepossesses, and a good many more than he possesses, too, so they tell me, at his infernal horse-racing and cock-fighting, and God knows what else. A gentleman may play, sir, --I throw the dice occasionally, myself, andlove to see a well-matched, race as well as any man, --but he ceases to bea gentleman the moment he plays beyond his means, --a fact which you willdo well to remember. A pretty match for a Stewart 'pon my word!"

During this harangue young Tom would have interrupted more than once, but his father silenced him with a passionate waving of his arm. Atlast he was compelled to pause for want of breath to say more, and theboy got in a word. 

"All this is beside the point, father, " he said hotly. "My word is given, and I intend to keep it. Even if it were not given, I should still do mybest to win Patricia, because I love her. "

"Love her, and welcome!" cried his father. "Marry her, if you wantto. But you'll never bring a pauper like that inside my house while Iam alive. "

"Nor after you are dead, if you do not wish it, " answered Tom, with hishead higher in the air than ever. 

"No, nor after I am dead!" thundered the old man, his anger no doubtcarrying him farther than he intended going. "You are acting like ascoundrel, sir. You know well enough I can't cut you out of the estate, since you are the eldest, so you think to take advantage of me. "

"Never fear, sir, " cried Tom, his lips white with anger and his eyesablaze. "You shall ask me back to Riverview yourself ere I return there;yes, and beg my wife's pardon for insulting her. "

"Then, by God, you'll never return!" snorted his father, and withoutwaiting to hear more, Tom stalked from the room and from the house. Ithink even then his father would have called him back, had the boy givenhim the chance, and his face was less red than usual when he heard thestreet door slam. 

Of course there was a great to-do immediately. Tom's mother intercededfor him, and I doubt not a single word on his part would have won fullpardon from his father, but one was no less stubborn than the other, andthe word was never spoken. When Mistress Patricia heard of the quarrel, she straightway informed her lover that she would never marry him andruin his inheritance, and returned to her home above Charles City, takingher old reprobate of a father with her, where he died not longafterwards, perhaps finding life not worth living when there remained noone who would take his wagers. 

At the close of the session, the Stewart coach rolled back to Riverview, but young Tom did not ride beside it. He remained at Williamsburg, andmanaged to pick up a scanty practice as an attorney, for he had read alittle law in want of something better to do, and to fit himself for hiscoming honors as a member of the House of Burgesses. And at Riverview hisfather moped in his office and about his fields, growing ever morecrabbed and more obstinate, and falling into a rage whenever any onedared mention Tom's name before him. 

It was in the spring of 1734 that Tom Stewart mounted his horse and rodeout of Williamsburg across the Chickahominy, to try his fortune once morewith Patricia Wyeth. The winter had been a hard one for a man brought upas Tom had been, and that suit of peach-bloom velvet had long since beenconverted into bread. Yet still he made a gallant figure when, on theevening of an April day, he cantered up the road to Patricia's home, andI dare say the heart of the owner of those bright eyes which peeped outupon him from an upper window beat faster when they saw him coming. Butit was a very demure little maiden who met him at the great door as heentered, and gave him her hand to kiss. She was all in white, with asprig of blossoms in her hair, and she must have made a pretty picturestanding there, and one to warm the heart of any man. 

Of the week that followed, neither my father nor my mother ever told memuch, --its memories were too sweet to trust to words, perhaps, --but theevent was, that on the first day of May, 1734, Thomas Stewart, attorney, and Patricia Wyeth, spinster, were made man and wife in Westover churchby the Reverend Peter Fontaine, of sainted memory. How well I recall hisbenign face, and what tears of affectionate remembrance brimmed my eyeswhen I heard, not long ago, that he was dead! The closing sentences ofhis will show how he ever thought of others and not of himself, for hewrote: "My will and desire is, that I may have no public funeral, butthat my corpse may be accompanied by a few of my nearest neighbors; thatno liquors be given to make any of the company drunk, --many instances ofwhich I have seen, to the great scandal of the Christian religion andabuse of so solemn an ordinance. I desire none of my family to go inmourning for me. " His sister sent me a copy of the will, and a verypretty letter, in which she told me how her brother often spoke of me, and wished me to have his Bible. It is there on the shelf at my bedside, and while God gives me life I will read in no other. 

It was in the modest Wyeth homestead, on the bank of the James, that myfather and mother entered upon their honeymoon. Of the depth of theirlove for each other I know best of all, and the summer slipped away ongolden wings. My father thought no more of returning to Williamsburg, nordid he greatly regret Riverview. He wrote a formal letter to his motherannouncing his marriage, but no answer came to it, and I doubt not thatworthy woman sobbed herself to sleep more than once in grieving over theobstinacy of her husband and her son. Dear lady, it was this troublewhich did much to shorten her days, and the end came soon afterwards. 'Tis said that on her deathbed she tried to soften her husband's heartagainst their boy, but with such ill success that she fell sobbing intothe sleep from which she was never to awaken. To such a degree can afault persisted in change the natural humor of a man. 

My father, perhaps, hoped for a reply to his letter, but he showed nosign of disappointment when none came, and never spoke upon the subjectto my mother. He soon found enough in his affairs at home to occupy hismind, for old Samuel Wyeth had left the estate sadly incumbered with hisdebts, and more than half of it was sacrificed to save the rest. Withcare and frugality, there yet remained enough to live on, and for thefirst year, at least, there came no cloud to dim their happiness. Theircup of joy was full to overflowing, so my mother often told me, when, onthe night of April 15, 1735, a child was born to them. It was a boy, and aweek later, before the altar of the little Westover church, its worthyrector christened the child "Thomas Stewart, " the fifth of his line inthe New World. 

CHAPTER IV

THE ENDING OF THE HONEYMOON

Besides my father and my mother, the figure which stands out most clearlyin my memory of my childhood is that of the man who christened me. Icannot remember the time when I did not know and love him. He was a tall, well-built man, with kindly face and clear blue eyes which darkened whenany emotion stirred him, and rode--how well I remember it!--a big, bony, gray horse. It was on this horse's back that I took my first ride, when Iwas scarce out of petticoats, and often after that, held carefully beforehim on the saddle, or, as I grew older, bumping joyously behind, my armsabout his waist. My place was always on his knee when he was within ourdoors, and he held me there with unfailing good humor during his longtalks with my mother, of which I, for the most part, comprehendednothing, except that oftentimes they spoke of me, and then he wouldsmooth my hair with great tenderness. But I sat there quite content, andsometimes dozed off with my head against his flowered waistcoat, --it washis one vanity, --and wakened only when he set me gently down. 

It was not until I grew older that I learned something of his history. One day, he had seized time from his parish work to take me for a ramblealong the river, and as we reached the limit of our walk and sat down fora moment's rest before starting homeward, and looked across the widewater, I asked him, with a childish disregard for his feelings, if itwere true that his father was a Frenchman, adding that I hoped it werenot true, because I did not like the French. 

"Yes, it is true, " he answered, and looked down at me, smiling sadly. "Shall I tell you the story, Thomas?"

I nodded eagerly, for I loved to listen to stories, especially true ones. 

"When Louis Fourteenth was King of France, " he began, and I think he tooka melancholy pleasure in telling it, "he issued a decree commanding allthe Protestants, who in France are called Huguenots, to abjure theirfaith and become Catholics, or leave the kingdom. He had oftentimesbefore promised them protection, but he was growing old and weak, andthought that this might help to save his soul, which was in great need ofsaving, for he had been a wicked king. My father and my mother wereHuguenots, and they chose to leave their home rather than give up theirfaith, as did many thousand others, and after suffering many hardships, escaped to England, with no worldly possession save the clothes upontheir backs, but with a great treasure in heaven and an abiding trust inthe Lord. They had six children, and after giving us a good education, especially as to our religion, committed us to the providence of acovenant God to seek our fortunes in the wide world. All of us came toAmerica, although Moses and John have since returned to England. James isa farmer in King William County, Francis is minister of York-Hamptonparish, and sister Ruth lives with me, as you know. "

A great deal more he told me, which slipped from my memory, for I wasthinking over what he had already said. 

"And your mother and father, " I asked, as we started back together, "fledfrom France rather than give up their faith?"

"Yes, " he answered, and smiled down into my eyes, raised anxiously tohis. 

"And were persecuted just as the early martyrs were?"

"Yes, very much the same. All of their goods were taken from them, andthey were long in prison. "

"But they were never sorry?"

"No, they were never sorry. No one is ever sorry for doing a thinglike that. "

I trotted on in silence for a moment, holding tight to his kindly hand, and revolving this new idea in my mind. At last I looked up at him, bigwith purpose. 

"I am going to do something like that some day, " I said. 

He gazed down at me, his eyes shining queerly. 

"God grant that you may have the strength, my boy, " he said. He bentand kissed me, and we returned to the house together without sayinganother word. 

It was the custom of the Fontaine family to hold a meeting every year togive thanks for the deliverance from persecution of their parents inFrance, and I remember being present with my father and mother at one ofthese meetings when I was seven or eight years old. One passage of thesermon he preached on that occasion remained fixed indelibly in my mind. He took his text from Romans, "That ye may with one mind and one mouthglorify God, even the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ. " He applied theduty thus enjoined to the Fontaine family, saying, --

"For many weary months was our father forced to shift among forests anddeserts for his safety, because he had dared to preach the word of God tothe innocent and sincere people among whom he lived, and who desired tobe instructed in their duty and to be confirmed in their faith. Theforest afforded him a shelter and the rocks a resting-place, but hisenemies gave him no quiet, and pursued him even to these fastnesses, until finally, of his own accord, he delivered himself to them. Theyloaded his hands with chains, a dungeon was his abode, and his feet stuckfast in the mire. Murderers and thieves were his companions, yet evenamong them did he pursue his labors, until God, by means of a piousgentlewoman, who had seen and pitied his sufferings, relieved him. "

To my childish imagination, the picture thus painted was a real andliving one, and filled me with a singular exaltation. I think each of usat some time of his life has felt, as I did then, a desire to suffer forconscience' sake. 

The preachers of Virginia were, as a whole, anything but admirable, acondition due no doubt to the worldly spirit which pervaded the church onboth sides of the ocean. The average parson was then--and many of themstill are--coarse and rough, as contact with the forests and waste placesof the world will often make men, even godly ones. But many of them wereworse than that, gamblers and drunkards. They hunted the fox acrosscountry with great halloo, mounted on fast horses of their own. Theyattended horse-races and cock-fights, almost always with some money onthe outcome, and frequently with a horse or cock entered in the races orthe pittings. And when the sport was over, they would accompany theplanters home to dinner, which ended in a drinking-bout, and it wasseldom the parson who went under the table first. One fought a duel inthe graveyard behind his church, --our own little Westover church, itwas, --and succeeded in pinking his opponent through the breast, for whichhe had incontinently to return to England; another stopped the communionwhich he was celebrating, and bawled out to his warden, "Here, George, this bread's not fit for a dog, " nor would he go on with the serviceuntil bread more to his liking had been brought; another married awealthy widow, though he had already a wife living in England. His bishopwas compelled to recall him, but I never heard that he was dischargedfrom holy orders. Another on a certain Saturday called a meeting of hisvestry, and when they refused to take some action which he desired, thrashed them all soundly, and on the next day added insult to injury bypreaching to them from the text, "And I contended with them, and cursedthem, and smote certain of them, and plucked off their hair. " I shouldlike to have seen the faces of the vestrymen while the sermon was inprogress! It was not an unusual sight to see the parson riding home fromsome great dinner tied fast in his chaise to keep him from falling out, as the result of over-indulgence in the planter's red wine. But ourworthy pastor, during his forty years' ministry in Charles City parish, was concerned in no such escapades, and I count it one of the greathappinesses of my life that I had the good fortune to fall under theinfluence of such a man. A passage of a letter written by him to one ofhis brothers in England on the subject of preserving health gives anoutline of the rules of his life. After commending active exercise in theopen air on foot and on horseback, he says, "I drink no spirituousliquors at all; but when I am obliged to take more than ordinary fatigue, either in serving my churches or other branches of duty, I take one glassof good old Madeira wine, which revives me, and contributes to my goingthrough without much fatigue. "

One other figure do I recall distinctly. We had driven to church as usualone Sunday morning in early fall, and when we came in sight of the littlebrick building, peeping through its veil of ivy, I was surprised to seethe parishioners in line on either side the path which led to the broad, low doorway. Mr. Fontaine stood there as though awaiting some one, andwhen he saw us, came down the steps and spoke a word to father. In amoment, from down the road came the rumble of heavy wheels, and then agreat, gorgeous, yellow chariot, with four outriders, swung into view anddrew up with a flourish before the church. The footmen sprang to thedoor, opened it, and let down the steps. I, who was staring with all myeyes, as you may well believe, saw descend a little old man, very weakand very tremulous, yet holding his head proudly, and after him ayounger. They came slowly up the walk, the old man leaning heavily uponthe other's shoulder and nodding recognition to right and left. As theydrew near, I caught the gleam of a great jewel on his sword-hilt, andthen of others on finger, knee, and instep. The younger bore himself veryerect and haughty, yet I saw the two were fashioned in one mould. On upthe steps and into the church they went, Mr. Fontaine before and we afterthem. They took their seats in the great pew with the curious carving onthe back, which I had never before seen occupied. 

"Who are the gentlemen, mother?" I whispered, so soon as I couldget her ear. 

"It is Colonel Byrd and his son come back from London, " she answered. "Now take your eyes off them and attend the service. "

Take my eyes off them I did, by a great effort of will, but I fear Iheard little of the service, for my mind was full of the great house onthe river-bank, which it had once been my fortune to visit. Mr. Fontainehad taken me with him in his chaise for a pastoral call at quite theother end of his parish, and as we returned, we were caught in a suddenstorm of rain. My companion had hesitated for a moment, and then turnedhis horse's head through a gateway with a curious monogram in iron at thetop, along an avenue of stately tulip-trees, and so to the door of amassive square mansion of red brick, which stood on a little knolloverlooking the James. The door was closed and the windows shuttered, buthalf a dozen negroes came running from the back at the sound of ourwheels and took us in out of the storm. A mighty fire was started in thedeep fireplace, and as I stood steaming before it, I looked with dazzledeyes at the great carved staircase, at the paintings and at the books, ofwhich there were many hundreds. 

Presently the old overseer, whom Mr. Fontaine addressed as Murray, andwho had grown from youth to trembling age in the Byrd service, came in tooffer us refreshment, and over the table they fell to gossiping. 

"Westover's not the place it was, " said Murray, sipping his flipdisconsolately, --"not the place it was while Miss Evelyn was alive. Therewas no other like it in Virginia then. Why, it was always full of gaycompany, and the colonel kept a nigger down there at the gate to invitein every traveler who passed. But all that's changed, and has been thesesix year. "

Mr. Fontaine nodded over his tea. 

"Yes, " he said, "Evelyn's death was a great blow to her father. "

"You may well say that, sir, " assented Murray, with a sigh. "He was neverthe same man after. He used to sit there at that window and watch her inthe garden, after they came back from London, and every day he saw herwhiter and thinner. At night, after she was safe abed, I have seen himwalking up and down over there along the river, sobbing like a baby. Andwhen she died, he was like a man dazed, thinking, perhaps, it was he whohad killed her. "

"I know, " nodded Mr. Fontaine. "I was here. " There was a moment'ssilence. I was bursting with questions, but I did not dare to speak. 

"The young master took him back to London after that, " went on Murray, "hoping that a change would do him good and take his mind off MissEvelyn, but I doubt he'll ever get over it. While they were in London, Sir Godfrey Kneller painted him and Miss Evelyn. Would you like to seethe pictures, sir?"

"Yes, I should like to see them, " said Mr. Fontaine softly. "Evelyn wasvery dear to me. "

They were hanging side by side in the great hall, and even my childisheyes saw their strength and beauty. His was a narrow, patrician face, beautiful as a woman's, looking from a wealth of brown curls, soft andflowing. The little pucker at the corners of his mouth bespoke hisrelish of a jest, and the high nose and well-placed eyes his courage andspirit. But it was at the other I looked the longest. She was seated upona grassy bank, with the shadows of the evening gathering about her. Inthe branches above her head gleamed a red-bird's brilliant plumage. Onher lap lay a heap of roses, and in her hand she held a shepherd's crook. Her gown, of pale blue satin, was open at the throat, and showed its fairsweet fullness and the bosom's promise. Her face was pensive, --sad, almost, --the lips just touching, a soft light in the great dark eyes. Ihad never seen such a picture, --nor have I ever looked upon another such. I can close my eyes and see it even now. But the storm had passed, and itwas time to go. 

"Why did Miss Evelyn die?" I questioned, as soon as we were out of theavenue of tulips and in the highway. 

He looked down at me a moment, and seemed hesitating for an answer. 

"She loved a man in London, " he said. "Her father would not let her marryhim, and brought her home. She was not strong, and gossips say her heartwas broken. "

"But why would he not let her marry him?" I asked. 

"He was not of her religion. Her father thought he was acting forher good. "

I pondered on this for a time in silence, and found here a question toogreat for my small brain. 

"But was he right?" I asked at last, falling back upon my companion'sgreater knowledge. 

"It is hard to say, " he answered softly. "Perhaps he was, and yet I havecome to think there is little to choose between one sect and another, soChrist be in them and the man honest. "

He looked out across the fields with tender eyes and I slipped my handin his. A vision of her sad face danced before me and I fell asleep, myhead within his arm, to waken only when he lifted me down at ourjourney's end. 

All this came back to me with the vividness which childish recollectionssometimes have, as I sat there in the pew at my mother's side. Only Icould not quite believe that this little wrinkled old man was the samewho looked so proudly from Kneller's canvas. But when the service endedand he stopped to exchange a word with father, I saw the face was indeedthe same, though now writ over sadly by the hand of time weighted downwith sorrow. It was the only time I ever saw him in the flesh, for he wasnear the end and died soon after. He was buried beside his daughter inthe little graveyard near his home. It was Mr. Fontaine who closed hiseyes in hope of resurrection and spoke the last words above his grave, --beloved in this great mansion as in the lowliest cabin at Charles City. 

My pen would fain linger over the portrait of this sainted man, which isthe fairest and most benign in the whole gallery of my youth, but I mustturn to another subject, --to the cloud which began to shadow my life atmy tenth year, and which still shadows it to-day. For the first six orseven years of their married life my father and mother were, I believe, wholly and unaffectedly happy. When I think of them now, I think of themonly as they were during that time, and wonder how many of the marriedpeople about me could say as much. Their means were small, and they liveda quiet life, which had few luxuries. But as time went on, my fatherbegan to chafe at the petty economies which the smallness of their incomerendered necessary. He had been bred amid the luxuries of a great estate, where the house was open to every passer-by, and it vexed him that hecould not now show the same wide hospitality. I think he yet had hopes ofsucceeding to his father's estate, out of which, indeed, there was no lawin Virginia to keep him should he choose to claim it. Whatever histhoughts may have been, he grew gradually to live beyond his means, andas the years passed, he had recourse to the cards and dice in the hope, no doubt, of recouping his vanishing fortune. It was true then, as it istrue now and always will be true, that the man who gambles because heneeds the money is sure to lose, and affairs went from bad to worse untilthe final disaster came. 

It was just after my tenth birthday. My mother and I were sittingtogether on the broad porch which overlooked the river. She had beenreading to me from the Bible, --the parable of the talents, --in which andin the kind advice of Parson Fontaine she found her only comfort in theanxious days which had gone before, and which I knew nothing of. But thelengthening shadows finally fell across the page, and she closed the bookand held it on her knee, while she talked to me about my lessons and aramble we had planned for the morrow. The red of the sunset stilllingered in the west, and a single crimson cloud hung poised high upagainst the sky. I remember watching it as it turned to purple and thento gray. A burst of singing came from the negro quarters behind thehouse, and in the strip of woodland by the river the noises of the nightbegan to sound. 

As the twilight deepened to darkness, my mother's voice faltered andceased, and when I glanced at her, I saw she had fallen into a reverie, and that there was a shadow on her face. I have only to shut my eyes, andthe years roll back and she is sitting there again beside me, in herwhite gown, simply made, and gathered at the waist with a broad blueribbon, her slim white hands playing with the book upon her knee, hereyes gazing afar off across the water, her mouth drooping in the curvewhich it had never known till recently, her wealth of blue-black hairforming a halo round her head. Ah, that she were there when I open myeyes again, that I might speak to her! For the bitterest thought thatever came to me is one which troubles my rest from time to time even now:Did I love her as she deserved; was I a staff for her to lean upon in hertrouble; was I not, rather, a careless, unseeing boy, who recked nothingof the impending storm until it burst about him? I trust the tears whichhave wet my pillow since have gladdened her heart in heaven. 

I was awakened from the doze into which I had fallen by the sound ofrapid hoof-beats down the road. We listened to them in silence, as theydrew near and nearer. I did not doubt it was my father, for few othersever rode our way. He had been from home all day, as he frequently was oflate, only he did not usually return so early in the evening. Somethingin my mother's face as she strained her eyes into the shadows to catch aglimpse of the advancing horseman drew me from my chair and to her side. 

"It is your father, " she said, in a voice almost inaudible, and as shespoke, the rider leaped from the shadow of the trees. He drew his horseup before the porch with a jerk and threw himself from the saddle. As hecame up the steps, I saw that his face was strangely flushed and his eyesgleaming in a way that made me shiver. I felt my mother's arm about metrembling as she drew me closer to her. 

"Well, it's over, " he said, flinging himself down upon the upper step, "and damme if I'm sorry. Anything's better than living here in the woodslike a lump on a log. "

"What do you mean is over, Tom?" asked my mother very quietly. 

"I mean our possession of this place is over. Since an hour ago, it hasbelonged to Squire Blakesley, across the river. "

"You mean you have gambled it away?"

"If you choose to call it that, " said my father ungraciously, and heturned his back to us and gazed gloomily out over the water. 

For a moment there was silence. 

"Since we no longer possess this place, " said my mother at last, "Isuppose you intend to forget your foolish anger against your father, andclaim your patrimony?"

"Foolish or not, " he cried, "I have sworn never to take it until it isoffered to me, and I mean to keep my word!"

"You would make your boy a beggar to gratify a foolish whim!" retorted mymother, her voice trembling with passion. I had never seen her so, andeven my father glanced at her furtively in some astonishment. "Very well. In that it is for you to do as you may choose, but his estate here, orwhat is left of it, shall be kept intact for him. "

"What do you mean?" cried my father, and he sprang to his feet andslashed his boot savagely with his riding-whip. 

"I mean, " said my mother very quietly, "that since a gambling debt is notrecoverable by law, we have only to live on quietly here and no one willdare disturb us. "

"And my honor?" cried my father with an oath, the first I had ever heardhim use. "It seems to me that you forget my honor, madam. "

"You have been the first to forget your honor, sir, " said my mother, rising to face him, but still keeping me within her arm, "in staking yourson's inheritance upon a throw of the dice. "

My father started as though he had been struck across the face, but hewas too far gone in anger to listen to the voice of reason. Indeed, Ihave always found that the more a man deserves rebuke, the less likely ishe to take it quietly. 

"Come here, Tom, " he said to me, and when I hesitated, added in a sternertone, "come here, sir, I say. "

I had no choice but to go to him, nor did my mother seek to hold me back. He caught me by the arms and bent until his face was close to mine. 

"You are to promise me two things, Tom, " he said, and I perceived thathis breath was heavy with the fumes of wine. "One is that you are neverto claim your inheritance of Riverview until it is offered to you freelyby them that now possess it. Do you promise me that?"

"Yes, " I faltered. "I promise you, sir. "

"Good!" he said. "And the other is that you will pay my debts of honorafter I am dead, if they be not paid before. Promise me that also, Tom. "

His eyes were on mine, and I could do nothing but obey, even had Ithought of resisting. 

"I promise that also, sir, " I said. 

"Very well, " and he retained his grasp on my arms yet a moment. "Remember, Tom, that a gentleman never breaks his word. It is his mostpriceless possession, the thing which above all others makes him agentleman. "

He dropped his hands and turned away into the house. A moment later, from the refuge of my mother's arms, I heard him heavily mounting thestairs to his room on the floor above. My mother said never a word, butshe covered my face with kisses, and I felt that she was crying. She heldme for a time upon her lap, gazing out across the river as before, andwhen I raised my hand and caressed her cheek, smiled down upon me sadly. She kissed me again as she put me to bed, and the last thing I saw beforedrifting away into the land of dreams was her sweet face bending over me. Had I known that it was the last time I was to see it so, --the last timethose tender hands were to draw the covers close about me, --I should nothave closed my eyes in such content. 

CHAPTER V

THE SECRET OF A HEART

Late that night I was awakened by the slamming of doors and hurriedfootsteps in the hall and up and down the stairs. I sat up in bed, and asI listened intently, heard frightened whispering without my door. It roseand died away and rose again, broken by stifled sobbing, and I knew thatsome great disaster had befallen. It seemed, somehow, natural that thisshould happen, after my father's recent conduct. With a cold fear at myheart, I threw the covers back, slid from the bed, and groped my wayacross the room. As I fumbled at the latch, the whispering and sobbingcame suddenly to an end, as though those without had stopped with batedbreath. At last I got the door open, and looking out, saw half a dozennegro servants grouped upon the landing. One of them held a lantern, which threw slender rays of light across the floor and queer shadows upagainst their faces. They stared at me an instant, and then, findingtheir breath again, burst forth in lamentation. 

"What is it?" I cried. "What has happened?"

My old mammy had her arms around me and caught me up to her face, downwhich the tears were streaming. 

"Oh, Lawd, keep dis chile!" she sobbed, looking down at me with infinitetenderness. "Oh, Lawd, bless an' keep dis chile!"

"But, mammy, " I repeated impatiently, "what has happened?"

Her trembling lips would not permit her answering, but she pointed to thedoor of my father's room and her tears broke forth afresh. 

"Is my mother there?" I asked. 

She nodded. 

"Then I will go to her, " I said, and I had squirmed out of her arms andwas running along the passage before she could detain me. In a moment Ihad reached the door, but all my courage seemed to fail me in face of themystery within, and the knock I gave was a very feeble and timid one. Iheard a quick step on the floor, and the door opened ever so little. 

"Is it you, doctor?" asked my mother's voice. 

"No, mother, it is only I, " I said. 

"You!" she cried, in a terrible voice, and I caught a glimpse of her facerigid with horror before she slammed the door. The sight seemed to freezeme there on the threshold, powerless to move. I have tried--ah, howoften!--to put behind me the memory of her face as I saw it then, but itis before me now and again, even yet. And I began to cry, for it was thefirst time my mother had ever shut me from her presence. 

"Are you there, Tom?" I heard her voice ask in a moment. Her voice, didI say? Nay, not hers, but a voice I had never heard before, --the voice ofa woman suffocating with anguish. 

"Yes, mother, " I answered, "I am here. "

"And you love me, do you not, Tom?"

"Oh, yes, mother!" I cried; and I thank God to this day that there was somuch of genuine feeling in my voice. 

"Then if you love me, Tom, " she said, "you will go back to your roomand not come near this door again. Promise me, Tom, that you will do asI ask you. "

"I promise, mother, " I answered. "But what has happened? Is father dead?"

"Mr. Fontaine will be here soon, " she said, "and will explain it all toyou. Now run back to your room, dearest, and go to bed. "

"Yes, mother, " I said again, but as I turned to go, I heard a sound whichstruck me motionless. No, my father was not dead, for that was his voiceI heard, pitched far above its usual key. 

"I shall never go back, " he cried. "I shall never go back till he asksme. "

I felt the perspiration start from my forehead. 

"Have you gone, Tom?" asked my mother's voice. 

"I am just going, mother, " I sobbed, and tore myself away from the door. My mammy's arms were about me again as I turned, and carried me back tomy room. This time I did not resist, but as she sat down, still holdingme, I laid my head upon her breast and sobbed myself to sleep. When Iawoke, I found that I was in bed with the covers tucked close around me, and through my window I could see the gray dawn breaking. I lay andwatched the light grow along the horizon and up into the heavens. Andwhile I lay thus, with heart aching dully, the door of my room openedsoftly, and with joy inexpressible I saw that it was my beloved friendwho entered. 

"Oh, Mr. Fontaine!" I cried, and stretched out my arms to him. He took meup as a mother might, and held me close against his heart. 

"Do you remember, dear, " he said, and his voice was trembling, "what youtold me one day by the river--that you meant to be brave under trial?"

I sobbed assent. 

"Well, the trial has come, Tom, and I want you to be brave and strong. You are not going to disappoint me, are you?"

Oh, it was hard, and I was only a child, but I sat upright on his kneeand tried to dry my tears. 

"I will try, " I said, but the sobs would come in spite of me. 

"That is right, " and he was stroking my hair in that old familiar, tenderway. "Your father is very ill, Tom. "

Well, if that was all, I could bear it, certainly. 

"But he will get well, " I said. 

He was looking far out at the purple sky, and his face seemed old andgray. 

"I hope and pray so, " he said at last. "He has the smallpox, Tom. There are some cases along the river near Charles City, and he musthave caught it there. Doctor Brayle has done everything for him thatcan be done. "

But I was not listening. There was room for only one thought in my brain. 

"And my mother is with him!" I cried, and my heart seemed bursting. 

He held me tight against him, and I felt a tear fall upon my head. Thiswas the trial, then--for him no less than me. 

"Yes, she is with him, Tom. She believes it her duty, and will allow noone else to enter. Ah, she has not been found wanting. Dear heart, I knewshe would never be. "

Of what came after, I have no distinct remembrance. Mr. Fontaine told methat my mother wished me to go home with him, so that I might be quitebeyond reach of the infection. He had agreed that this would be thewisest course, and so, too stricken at heart to resist, I was bundledinto his chaise with a chest of my clothes, and driven away through thecrowd of sobbing negroes to the little house at Charles City where he andhis sister lived. 

The week that followed dwells in my memory as some tremendous nightmare, lightened here and there by the unvarying kindness of my friend and ofhis sister. I wandered along the river and gazed out across the changingwater for hours at a time, with eyes that saw nothing of what was beforethem. Often I remained thus until some one came for me and led me gentlyback into the house. My brain seemed numbed, and no longer capable ofthought. Mr. Fontaine took charge of our affairs, doing everything thatcould be done, keeping the frightened negroes to their work, and prayingwith my mother through the tight-closed door. He had no fear, and wouldhave entered and prayed with her beside the bed, had she permitted. 

I was sitting by the river-bank one evening, watching the shadowslengthen across the water, when I heard a step behind me, and turned tosee my friend approaching. A glance at his face brought me to my feet. 

"What is it?" I cried, and ran to him. 

He took my hands in his. 

"Your father died an hour ago, Tom, " he said, and smoothed my hair in thefamiliar way which seemed to comfort him as well as me. 

"And my mother?" I asked, for it was of her I was thinking. 

"Your mother is ill, too, " he said, and placed his arms about me and heldme close, "but with God's grace we will save her life. "

But I had started from him. 

"If she is ill, " I cried, "I must go to her. She will want me. "

He shook his head, still holding to my hands. 

"No, she does not want you, Tom, " he said. "The one thing that will makeher happy is the thought that you are quite removed from danger. Ibelieved my place was at her bedside, but she would not permit it. "

And then he told me, with glistening eyes, that my old mammy, who hadbeen my mother's thirty years before, was nursing her and would not besent away. She had burst in the door of the plague chamber the momentshe had heard that her mistress was ill, and dared any one disturb her. Old Doctor Brayle had commanded that she be given her will, and declaredthat in this old negro woman's careful nursing lay my mother's greatchance of life. 

The scalding tears poured down my cheeks as Mr. Fontaine told methis, --the first, I think, that I had shed that week, for after thatdreadful night, my sorrow had been of a dry and bitter kind, --and astinging remorse seized me as I thought of the times I had been cross anddisobedient to mammy. Ah, how I loved her now! It was the accustomedirony of my life that I was never to tell her so. 

Ere daylight the next morning I was seated beside my friend as he droveme home. The river was cloaked in mist, and the dawn seemed inexpressiblydreary. As we approached the house, I wondered to see how forlorn andneglected it appeared. A crowd of wailing negroes surrounded the chaisewhen we stopped, and I would have got out, but Mr. Fontaine held mefirmly in my seat. 

"We must remain here, " he said, and I dropped back beside him, and waitedin a kind of stupor. 

Presently they brought the coffin down, the negroes who carried itwreathing themselves in tobacco smoke, and placed it in a cart. Wefollowed at a distance as it rolled slowly toward the Wyethburying-ground in the grove of willows near the road. The thought came tome that my father should lie with the Stewarts, not with the Wyeths, andthen suddenly a great sickness and faintness came upon me, and I remembernothing of what followed until I found Miss Fontaine lifting me from thechaise at the door. I was put to bed, and not until the next day was Iable to crawl forth again. 

Then came days of anguish and suspense, days spent by me roaming thewoods, or lying face downward beneath the trees, and praying that Godwould spare my mother's life. Bulletins were brought me from herbedside, --she was better, she was worse, she was better, --how shall Itell the rest?--until at last one day came my dear friend, his lipsquivering, the tears streaming down his face unrestrained, and told methat she was dead. I think the sight of his great sorrow frightened me, and I bore the blow with greater composure than I had thought possible. Had she sent me no message? Yes, she had sent me a message, --her lastthought had been of me. She asked me to be a good boy and an honest man, to follow the counsel of Mr. Fontaine in all things, and to keep mypromise to my father. So, even in death her love for him and for thehonor of his memory triumphed, as I would have had it do. 

Again there was a dismal procession through the gray morning to thewillow grove, where we stood beneath the dripping branches, while afaroff the rude coffin was lowered to its last resting-place. The negroesgrouped themselves about, and my friend stood at my side, his head bare, his face raised to heaven, as though he saw her there. 

"'I am the resurrection and the life, saith the Lord: he that believethin me, though he were dead, yet shall he live: and whosoever liveth andbelieveth in me, shall never die. '"

I felt the threads of my life slipping from me one by one, even as thetrees faded from before my eyes. Only that strong, exultant voice at myside went on and on. 

"'Now is Christ risen from the dead, and become the firstfruits of themthat slept. '" On and on went the voice; there was nothing else in thewhole wide world but that voice crying out over my mother's grave. "'Iheard a voice from heaven, saying unto me. Write. From henceforth blessedare the dead who die in the Lord. '" And then the voice faltered andbroke. "She was the light of my life and the joy of my heart, " it was nolonger the ritual of the church; "and yet had I to walk beside her andtell her naught. And now is she taken from me, for the Lord hath receivedher to His bosom to live in the light of His love forevermore. "

I looked up into his face and saw the secret of his heart revealed, --thesecret he had kept so well, but which his anguish had wrung from him. Itwas only for an instant, yet I think he knew I had read his heart--I, alone of all the world, understood. Had my mother known, I wonder? Yes, I think she had, and in the greatness of his love found help and comfort. Good man and lovely woman, God rest and keep you both. 

I went home with him, remembering with a pang that the place I had calledhome was mine no longer. Those among my friends who know the history ofmy boyhood understand to some extent my loathing for the cards and dice. It is perhaps unreasonable, --I might be the first to deem it so in anyother man, --but when I count up the woe they brought my mother, --fatherand husband slaves to the same frenzy, --how they wrecked her life andembittered it, my passion rises in my throat to choke me. Never did Ihate them more than in the days which followed; for they had made meoutcast, and what the future held for me, I could not guess. The questionwas answered of a sudden a week later, when there came from mygrandfather a curt note bidding me be sent to Riverview. It was decidedat once that I must go. I myself looked forward to the change with aboy's blind longing for adventure, and said farewell to the man who hadbeen so much to me with a willingness I wince to think upon. 

CHAPTER VI

I AM TREATED TO A SURPRISE

The rain was falling dismally as the coach in which I had made thejourney rolled up the drive to Riverview, and I caught but a glimpse ofthe house as I was rushed up the steps and into the wide hall. A ladydressed in a loose green gown was seated in an easy-chair before the openfire, and she did not rise as I entered, doubtless because her lap wasfull of knitting. 

"Gracious, how wet the child is!" she cried, looking me over critically. "Take him to his room, Sally, and see that he has a bath and change ofclothing. I'm sure he needs both. "

I turned away without a word and followed the negro maid. Of course thelady thought me a surly boor, but my heart was burning, for I had hopedfor a different welcome. As I passed along the hall and up the broadstaircase, the thought came to me that all of this would one day be mine, should I choose to claim it, and then, with crimson cheeks, I put thethought from me, as unworthy of my mother's son. 

But my room looked very warm and cheerful even on this chilly day, andfrom the window I could see broad fields of new-planted tobacco, andbeyond them the yellow road and then the river. I stood long looking outat it and wondering what my life here had in store. Half an hour later, word came from my grandfather that he wished to see me, and the same maidled me down the stairs and to his study, I stumbling along beside herwith a madly beating heart. As I crossed the lower hall, I heard a burstof childish laughter, and saw a boy and girl, both younger than myself, playing near the chair where the lady sat. I looked at them withinterest, but the sight of me seemed to freeze the laughter on theirfaces, and they gazed with staring eyes until I turned the corner and wasout of sight. But I had little time to wonder at this astonishingbehavior, for in a moment I was in my grandfather's office. 

He was seated at a great table, and had apparently been going over someaccounts, for the board in front of him was littered with books andpapers. I saw, even beneath the disguise of his red face and white hair, his strong resemblance to my father, and my heart went out to him on theinstant. For I had loved my father, despite the wild behavior whichmarred his later clays. Indeed, I always think of him during that time assuffering with a grievous malady, of which he could not rid himself, andwhich ate his heart out all the faster because he saw how great was theanguish it caused the woman he loved. That it was some such disease I amquite certain, so different was his naturally strong and sunnydisposition. 

My grandfather gazed at me some moments without speaking, as I stoodthere, longing to throw myself into his arms, and all the misery of theyears that followed might never have been, had I buried my pride andfollowed the dictates of my heart. But I waited for him to speak, and themoment passed. 

"So this is Tom's boy, " he said at last. "My God, how like he is!"

He fell silent for a moment, --silenced, no doubt, by bitter memories. 

"You wonder, perhaps, " he said in a sterner tone, "why I have sent foryou; but I could do no less. The letter from your pastor which announcedthe deaths of your father and your mother brought me the tidings alsothat your mother's fortune had been diced away down to the last penny, and that even the negroes must be sold to satisfy the claims against it. However undutiful your father may have been, I could not permit his sonto become a charge upon the poor funds. "

I felt my cheeks flushing, but I judged it best to choke back the wordswhich trembled on my lips. 

"I can read your thought, " said my grandfather quickly. "You arethinking that the heir of Riverview could hardly be called a pauper. Donot forget that your father forfeited his claim to the estate by hisungentlemanly conduct. "

"I shall not forget it, " I burst out. "My father made sure that I shouldnever forget it. I shall never claim the estate. And my father's conductwas never ungentlemanly. "

"As you will, " said my grandfather scornfully. "I am not apt atmincing words. I told him one thing many years ago which I should havethought he would remember, and which I now repeat to you. I told himthat a gentleman ceased to be a gentleman when once he gambled beyondhis means. "

I waited to hear no more, but with crimson cheeks and head in air, Iturned on my heel and started for the door. 

"Damn my stars, sir!" he roared. "Wait to hear me out. "

But I would not wait. After a moment's struggle with the latch, I had thedoor open and marched straight to my room. Once inside, I bolted thedoor, and throwing myself on the floor, sobbed myself to sleep. 

What need to detail further? There were a hundred such scenes between usin the four years that followed, and as I look back upon them now, Irealize that through it all I, too, showed my full share of Stewartobstinacy and temper. I more than suspect that my grandfather in his mostviolent outbursts was inwardly trembling with tenderness for me, as was Ifor him, and that a single gentle word, spoken at the right time, wouldhave brought us into each other's arms. And I realize too late that itwas for me, and not for him, to speak that word. It was only when I sawhim lying in his bed, stricken with paralysis, bereft of the power ofspeech or movement, that I knew how great my love for him had been. Hiseyes, as they met mine on that last day, had in them infinite tendernessand pleading, and my heart melted as I bent and kissed his lips. Hestruggled to speak, and the sweat broke from his forehead at the effort, but what he would have said I can only guess, for he died that night, without the iron bands which held him fast loosening for an instant. YetI love to fancy that his last words, could he have spoken them, wouldhave been words of love and forgiveness, for my father as well as formyself, and such, I am sure, they would have been. With him there passedaway the only one at Riverview whom I had grown to love. 

And now a word about the others among whom I passed the second period ofmy boyhood. My father's younger brother, James, had married seven oreight years before a lady whose estate adjoined Riverview, --Mrs. Constance Randolph, a widow some years older than himself. She had onechild living, a daughter, Dorothy, who, at the time I came to Riverview, was a girl of nine, and a year after her second marriage she bore a son, who was named James, much against the wishes of his mother. She wouldhave called him Thomas, a name which had for five generations been thatof the head of the house. But this my grandfather would by no meansallow, and so the child was christened after his father. I think thatever since the day she had entered the Stewart family, my aunt hadthought me a spectre across her path, for she was an ambitious woman andwished the whole estate for her son, --in which I do not greatly blameher. But she had brooded over her fear until it had become a phantomwhich haunted her unceasingly, and she had come to deem me a kind ofmonster, who stood between her boy and his inheritance. Her secondhusband died three years after their marriage, --he was drowned one day inJanuary while crossing the river on the ice, which gave way underhim, --and after that she became the mistress of Riverview in earnest, ruling my grandfather with a rod of iron, for though bold enough withmen, and especially with the men of his own family, he would succumb in amoment to a woman's shrewish temper. 

Only twice had he revolted against her rule. The first time was when shehad announced her intention of naming her boy Thomas, as I have alreadymentioned. The second was when he decided to summon me to Riverview. Thisshe had opposed with all her might, but he had persisted, and finallyended the argument by putting her from the room, --doubtless with greatinward trepidation. So I came to be a phantom in the flesh, and do notwonder that she hated me, so sour will the human heart become whichbroods forever on its selfishness. Her children she kept from me as fromthe plague, and during the years preceding my grandfather's death, I hadalmost no communication with them. He required, however, that everyrespect be shown me, placed me on his right at table, --how often have Ilooked up from my plate to find his eyes upon me, --selected half a dozennegroes to be my especial servants, engaged the Rev. James Scott, pastorof the Quantico church, as my tutor, and even ordered for me an elaboratewardrobe from his factor in London. 

Mr. Scott was a man of parts, and under him I gained some knowledge ofLatin, Greek, and mathematics. Certainly I made more progress than Ishould have done under different circumstances, for finding myselfwithout companions or other occupation, I applied myself to my books forwant of something better. My grandfather possessed above a hundredvolumes, and when he saw how my bent lay, he ordered others for me, sothat his library came to be one of the largest on the Northern Neck, though but indifferently selected. Absorbed in these books, I managed toforget the disorder of my circumstances. 

The remainder of my time I spent in riding along the river road on themare my grandfather had given me, or wandering over the estate and in andout among the negro cabins. To the negroes I was always "Mas' Tom, " and Iam proud to remember that I made many friends among them, treating themalways with justice and sometimes with mercy, as, indeed, I try yet todo. Once I came suddenly upon old Gump, the major-domo of the houseservants, preparing to give a little pickaninny a thrashing, and Istopped to ask what he had done. 

"He's done been stealing Mas' Tom, " answered Gump. "Ain' goin' t' hab not'iefs roun' dis yere house, not if I knows it. "

"What did he steal, uncle?" I asked. 

"Dis yere whip, " said Gump, and he held up an old riding-whip of mine. 

I looked at it and hesitated for a moment. Was it worth beating a childfor? The little beady eyes were gazing at me in an agony of supplication. 

"Gump, " I said, "don't beat him. That's all right. I want him to havethe whip. "

Gump stared at me in astonishment. 

"What, Mas' Tom, " he exclaimed, "you mean dat you gib him de whip?"

"Yes, " I said, "I give him the whip, Gump, " and luckily the old man couldnot distinguish between the past and present tenses of the verb, so thatI was spared a lie. The little thief ran away with the whip in his hand, and it was long before the incident was recalled to me. 

So I returned again to my books, and to the silent but no less activeantagonism toward my aunt. Yet, I would not paint her treatment of me intoo gloomy colors. Doubtless I gave her much just cause for offense, forI had grown into a surly and quick-tempered boy, with raw places everopen to her touch. That she loved her children I know well, and her lovefor them was at the bottom of her dislike for me. I have learned longsince that there is no heart wholly bad and selfish. 

While my grandfather yet lived, I think she had some hope that somethingwould happen to make me an outcast utterly, but after his death this hopevanished, and she sent for me one morning to come to her. I found herseated in the selfsame chair in which I had first seen him, and thetable was still littered with papers and accounts. 

"Good-morning, Thomas, " she said politely enough, as I entered, and, as Ireturned her greeting, motioned me to a chair. She seemed to hesitate ata beginning, and in the moment of silence that followed, I saw that herface was growing thinner, and that her hair was streaked with gray. 

"I have sent for you, Thomas, " she said at last, "to find out what yourintention is with regard to this estate. You know, of course, that yourfather forfeited it voluntarily, and that you have no moral claim to it. Still, the law might sustain your claim, should you choose to assert it. "

"I shall not choose to assert it, " I answered coldly, and as I spoke, herface was suffused with sudden joy. "I promised my father never to claimit, --never to take it unless it were offered to me openly andfreely, --and I intend to keep my promise. "

For a moment her emotion prevented her replying, and she pressed one handagainst her breast as though to still the beating of her heart. 

"Very well, " she said at last. "Your resolution does credit to yourhonor, and I will see that you do not regret it. I will undertake themanagement of both estates until my son becomes of age. You shall have anample allowance. Let me see; how old are you?"

"I am fifteen years old, " I answered. 

"And have about sounded the depths of Master Scott's learning, Isuppose?" she asked, smiling, the first smile, I think, she hadever given me. 

"He was saying only yesterday that I should soon have to seekanother tutor. "

"'T is as I thought. Well, what say you to a course at William and Mary?"

She smiled again as she saw how my cheeks flushed. 

"I should like it above all things, " I answered earnestly, and, indeed, Ihad often thought of it with longing, so lonely was my life at Riverview. 

"It shall be done, " she said. "The year opens in a fortnight's time, andyou must be there at the beginning. "

I thanked her and left the room, and ran to my tutor, who had arrivedsome time before, to acquaint him with my good fortune. He was no lesspleased than I, and forthwith wrote me a letter to Dr. Thomas Dawson, president of the college, commending me to his good offices. So, in duecourse, I rode away from Riverview, not regretting it, nor, I dare say, regretted. In truth, I had no reason to love the place, nor had anywithin it reason to love me. 

Of my life at college, little need be said. Indeed, I have small reasonto be proud of it, for, reacting against earlier years, perhaps, Icultivated the Apollo room at the Raleigh rather than my books, andtoasted the leaden bust of Sir Walter more times than I care to remember. Yet I never forgot that I was a gentleman, thank God! And previous yearsof study brought me through with some little honor despite my presentcarelessness. I had a liberal allowance, and elected to spend myvacations at Williamsburg or at Norfolk, or coasting up the Chesapeake asfar as Baltimore, and did not once return to Riverview, where I knew Ishould get cold welcome. In fact, I was left to do pretty much as Ipleased, my aunt being greatly occupied with the care of the estate, anddoubtless happy to be rid of me so easily. So I entered my eighteenthyear, and the time of my graduation was at hand. And it was then that thegreat event happened which changed my whole life by giving me somethingto live for. 

It was the custom for the first class, the year of its graduation, toattend the second of the grand assemblies given by the governor while theHouse of Burgesses was in session, and we had been looking forward to theevent with no small anticipation. Many of us, myself among the number, had ordered suits from London for the occasion, and I thought that Ilooked uncommon well as I arrayed myself that night before the glass. Such is the vanity of youth, for I have since been assured many times byone who saw me that I was a very ordinary looking fellow. Half a dozen ofus, the better to gather courage, went down Duke of Gloucester Street armin arm toward the governor's palace with its great lantern alight tohonor the occasion, and mounted the steps together, --our trifling overour toilets had made us late, --and as we entered the high doorway, didour best to look as though a great assembly was an every-day event to us. A moment later, I saw a sight which took my breath away. 

It was only a girl of seventeen--but such a girl! Can I describe her as Iclose my eyes and see her again before me? No, I cannot trust my pen, norwould any such description do her justice; for her charm lay not inbeauty only, but in a certain rare, sweet girlishness, which seemed toform a nimbus round her. Yet was her beauty worth remarking, too; and Ihave loved to think that, while others saw that only, I, looking withmore perceptive eyes, saw more truly to her heart. I did not reason allthis out at the first; I only stood and stared at her amazed, until someone knocking against me brought me to my senses. There were a dozen menabout her, and one of these I saw with delight was Dr. Price, ourregistrar at the college, a benign old man, who could deny me nothing. Iwaited with scarce concealed impatience until he turned away from thegroup, and then I was at his side in an instant. 

"Dr. Price, " I whispered eagerly, "will you do me the favor of presentingme to that young lady?"

"Why, bless my soul!" he exclaimed, looking at me over his glasses inastonishment, "you seem quite excited. Which young lady?"

"The one you have just left, " I answered breathlessly. 

He looked at me quizzically for a moment, and laughed to himself asthough I had uttered a joke. 

"Why, certainly, " he said. "Come with me. "

I could have kissed his hand in my gratitude, as he turned back towardthe group. I followed a pace behind, and felt that my hands weretrembling. The group opened a little as we approached, and in a moment wewere before her. 

"Miss Randolph, " said Dr. Price, "here is a young gentleman who has justbegged of me the favor of an introduction. Permit me to present Mr. Thomas Stewart. "

"Why, 'pon my word, " cried that young lady, "'t is cousin Tom!" and as Istood gaping at her like a fool, in helpless bewilderment, she came to meand gave me her hand with the prettiest grace in the world. 

CHAPTER VII

I DECIDE TO BE A SOLDIER

Now who would have thought that in three short years the red-cheeked girlwhom I had left at Riverview, and of whom I had never thought twice, could have grown into this brown-eyed fairy? Certainly not I, and myhopeless astonishment must have been quite apparent, for Mistress Dorothylaughed merrily as she looked at me. 

"Come, cousin, " she cried, "you look as though you saw a ghost. I assureyou I am not a ghost, but very substantial flesh and blood. "

"'Twas not of a ghost I was thinking, " I said, recovering my wits alittle under the magic of her voice, which I thought the sweetest I hadever heard, "but of the three Graces, and methought I saw a fourth. "

She gazed at me a moment with bright, intent eyes, the faintest touch ofcolor in her cheek. Then she smiled--a smile that brought two tinydimples into being--oh, such a smile! But there--why weary you withtelling what I felt? You have all felt very like it when you gazed into acertain pair of eyes, --or if you have not, you will some day, --and if younever do, why, God pity you!

She laid her hand on my arm and turned to the group about us. "Gentlemen, " she said, with a little curtsy, "I know you will excuse us. My cousin Tom and I have not seen each other these three years, and havea hundred things to say;" and so I walked off with her, my head in theair, and my heart beating madly, the proudest man in the colony, I daresay, and with as good cause, too, as any. 

Dorothy led the way, for I was too blinded with joy to see where I wasgoing, and with a directness which showed acquaintance with the greathouse, proceeded to a corner under the stair which had a bit of tapestrybefore it that quite shut us out from interruption. She sat down oppositeme, and I pinched my arm to make sure I was not dreaming. 

"Why, Tom, " she cried, with a little laugh, as she saw me wince at thepain, "you surely do not think yourself asleep?"

"I know not whether 't is dreaming or enchantment, " said I; "but sleep orsorcery, 't is very pleasant and I trust will never end. "

"What is it that you think enchantment, Tom?" she asked. 

"What could it be but you?" I retorted, and she smiled the slyest littlesmile in the world. "I swear that when I entered that door ten minutessince, I was wide awake as any man, but the moment I clapt eyes on you, Ilost all sense of my surroundings, and have since trod on air. "

"Oh, what do you think it can be?" she questioned, pretending to lookmightily concerned, "Do you think it is the fever, Tom?"

But I was far past teasing. 

"To think that you should be Dorothy!" I said. "I may call you Dorothy, may I not?"

"Why, of course you may!" she cried. "Are we not cousins, Tom?"

What a thrill it gave me to hear her call me Tom! Of course we were notcousins, but I fancy all the tortures of the Inquisition could not atthat moment have made me deny the relationship. Well, we talked andtalked. Of what I said, I have not the slightest remembrance, --it was allfoolish enough, no doubt, --but Dorothy told me how her mother had beenmanaging the estate, greatly assisted by the advice of a MajorWashington, living ten miles up the river at Mount Vernon; how herbrother James had been tutored by my old preceptor, but showed fargreater liking for his horse and cocks than for his books; and how Mr. Washington had come to Riverview a month before to propose that MistressDorothy accompany him and his mother and sister to Williamsburg, and howher mother had consented, and the flurry there was to get her ready, andhow she finally was got ready, and started, and reached Williamsburg, andhad been with the Washingtons for a week, and had attended the firstassembly, which accounted for her knowing the house so well, and had hada splendid time. 

"And who was it you sat with here last time, Dorothy?" I asked, for Icould not bear that she should connect this place with any one but me. 

"Let me see, " and the sly minx seemed to hesitate in the effort atrecollection. "Was it Mr. Burke? No, I was with him on the veranda. Wasit Mr. Forsythe? No. Ah, I have it!" and she paused a moment to prolongmy agony. "It was with Betty Washington; she had something to tell mewhich must be told at once, and which was very private. But what agreat goose you are, to be sure. Do you know, Tom, I had no idea thatmelancholy boy I saw sometimes at Riverview would grow into sucha--such a"--

"Such a what, Dorothy?" I asked, as she hesitated. 

"Such a big, overgrown fellow, with all his heart in his face. What amonstrous fine suit that is you have on, Tom!"

The jade was laughing at me, and here was I, who was a year her seniorand twice her size, sitting like an idiot, red to the ears. In faith, thelarger a man is, the more the women seem tempted to torment him; but onme she presently took pity, and as the fiddles tuned up in the greatballroom, she led the way thither and permitted me to tread a minuet withher. Of course there were a score of others eager to share her dances, but she was more kind to me than I deserved, and in particular, when thefiddles struck up "High Betty Martin, " threw herself upon my arm andlaughed up into my face in the sheer joy of living. But between thedances I had great opportunity of being jealous, and spent the timemoping in a corner, where, as I reviewed her talk, the frequency of hermention of Mr. Washington occurred to me, and at the end of five minutesI had conceived a desperate jealousy of him. 

"How old is this Mr. Washington?" I asked, when I had managed to get byher side again. 

"Not yet twenty-two, " she answered, and then as she saw my gloomy face, she burst into a peal of laughter. "He is adorable, " she continued, whenshe had regained her breath. "Not handsome, perhaps, but so courtly, sodignified, so distinguished. I can't imagine why he is not here to-night, for he is very fond of dancing. Do you know, I fancy Governor Dinwiddiehas selected him for some signal service, for it was at his invitationthat Mr. Washington came to Williamsburg. He is just the kind of man onewould fix upon instinctively to do anything that was very dangerous orvery difficult. "

"I dare say, " I muttered, biting my lips with vexation, and avoidingDorothy's laughing eyes. I was a mere puppy, or I should have known thata woman never praises openly the man she loves. 

"I am sure you will admire him when you meet him, " she continued, "as Iam determined you shall do this very night. He is a neighbor, you know, and I'll wager that when you come to live at Riverview, you will beforever riding over to Mount Vernon. "

"Oh, doubtless!" I said, between my teeth, and I longed to have Mr. Washington by the throat. "How comes it I heard nothing of him when I wasat Riverview?"

"'Tis only since last year he has been there, " she answered. "The estatebelonged to his elder brother, Lawrence, who died July a year ago, andMajor Washington has since then been with his mother, helping her in itsmanagement. Before that time, he had been over the mountains surveyingall that western country, and then to the West Indies, where he had thesmallpox, because he would not break a promise to dine with a familywhere it was. But what is the matter? You seem quite ill. "

"It is nothing, " I said, after a moment. "It was the smallpox whichkilled my father and my mother. "

"Pardon me, " and her hand was on mine for an instant. Indeed, the shudderwhich always shook me whenever I heard that dread infection mentioned hadalready passed. "He has the rank of major, " she continued, hopingdoubtless to distract my thoughts, "because he has been appointedadjutant-general of one of the districts, but somehow we rarely call himmajor, for he says he does not want the title until he has done somethingto deserve it. "

"He seems a very extraordinary man, " I said gloomily, "to have done somuch and to be yet scarce twenty-two. "

"He is an extraordinary man, " cried Dorothy, "as you will say when youmeet him. A word of caution, Tom, " she added, seeing my desperate plight, and relenting a little. "Say nothing to him of the tender passion, for hehas lately been crossed in love, and is very sore about it. A certainMistress Cary, to whom he was paying court, hath rejected him, andwounded him as much in his self-esteem as in his love, which, I fancy, was not great, but which, on that account, he is anxious to have appeareven greater, as is the way with men. "

"Trust me, " said I, with a great lightening of the heart; "I shall bevery careful not to wound him, Dorothy. "

"Pray, why dost thou smile so, Tom?" she asked, her eyes agleam. "Is itthat there is a pair of bright eyes here in Williamsburg which you aredying to talk about? Well, I will be your confidante. "

"Oh, Dorothy!" I stammered, but my tongue refused to utter the thoughtwhich was in my heart, --that there was only one pair of eyes in the wholeworld I cared for, and that I was looking into them at this very moment. 

"Ah, you blush, you stammer!" cried my tormentor. "Come, I'll wagerthere's a pretty maid. Tell me her name, Tom. "

I looked at her and gripped my hands at my side. If only this crowdwas not about us--if only we were alone together somewhere--I would bebold enough. 

"And why do you look so savage, Tom?" she asked, and I could have swornshe had read my thought. "You are not angry with me already! Why, youhave known me scarce an hour!"

I could endure no more, and I reached out after her, heedless of the timeand of the place. Doubtless there would have been great scandal amongthe stately dames who surrounded us, but that she sprang away from mewith a little laugh and ran plump into a man who had been hasteningtoward her. The sight of her in the arms of a stranger brought me to mysenses, and I stopped dead where I was. 

"'Tis Mr. Washington!" she cried, looking up into his face, and as he sether gently on her feet, she held out her hand to him. He raised it to hislips with a courtly grace I greatly envied. "Mr. Washington, this is mycousin, Thomas Stewart. "

"I am very happy to meet Mr. Stewart, " he said, and he grasped myhand with a heartiness which warmed my heart. I had to look up tomeet his eyes, for he must have been an inch or two better than sixfeet in height, and of a most commanding presence. His eyes wereblue-gray, penetrating, and overhung by a heavy brow, his face longrather than broad, with high, round cheekbones and a large mouth, which could smile most agreeably, or--as I was afterward tolearn--close in a firm, straight line with dogged resolution. At thismoment his face was luminous with joy, and he was plainly laboringunder some intense emotion. 

"Where is my mother, Dolly?" he asked. "I have news for her. "

"She is in the reception hall with the governor's wife, " she answered. "But may we not have your news, Mr. Washington?"

He paused and looked back at her a moment. 

"'T is all settled, " he said, "and I am to start at once. "

"I was right, then!" she cried, her eyes sparkling in sympathy withhis. "I was just telling cousin Tom I believed the governor had amission for you. "

"Well, so he has, and I got my papers not ten minutes since. You couldnever guess my destination. "

"Boston? New York? London?" she questioned, but he shook his head ateach, smiling evermore broadly. 

"No, 't is none of those. 'T is Venango. "

"Venango?" cried Dorothy. "Where, in heaven's name, may that be?" Nor wasI any the less at a loss. 

"'T is a French outpost in the Ohio country, " answered Washington, "andmy mission, in brief, is to warn the French off English territory. "

Dorothy gazed at him, eyes wide with amazement. There was something inthe speaker's words and look which fired my blood. 

"You will need companions, will you not, Major Washington?" I asked. 

He smiled in comprehension, as he met my eyes. 

"Only two or three, Mr. Stewart. Two or three guides and a few Indianswill be all. "

My disappointment must have shown in my face, for he gave me hishand again. 

"I thank you for your offer, Mr. Stewart, " he said earnestly. "Believeme, if it were possible, I should ask no better companion. But do notdespair. I have little hope the French will heed the warning, and 'twill then be a question of arms. In such event, there will be great needof brave and loyal men, and you will have good opportunity to see thecountry beyond the mountains. But I must find my mother, and tell her ofmy great good fortune. "

I watched him as he strode away, and I fancy there was a new light in myeyes, --certainly there was a new purpose in my heart. For I had beenoften sadly puzzled as to what I should do when once I was out ofcollege. I had no mind to become an idler at Riverview, but wasdetermined to win myself a place in the world. Yet when I came to lookabout me, I saw small prospect of success. The professions--the law, medicine, and even the church--were overrun with vagabonds who hadbrought them so low that no gentleman could think of earning alivelihood--much less a place in the world--by them. Trade was equallyout of the question, for there was little trade in the colony, and thatin the hands of sharpers. But Mr. Washington's words had opened a newvista. What possibilities lay in the profession of arms! And myresolution was taken in an instant, --I would be a soldier. I said nothingof my resolve to Dorothy, fearing that she would laugh at me, as shedoubtless would have done, and the remainder of the evening passed veryquickly. Dorothy presented me to Mrs. Washington, a stately and beautifullady, who spoke of her son with evident love and pride. He had beencalled away, she said, for he had much to do, and thus reminded, Iremembered that it was time for me also to depart. Before I went, Iobtained permission from Mrs. Washington to call and see her nextday, --Dorothy standing by with eyes demurely downcast, as though she didnot know it was she and she only whom I hoped to see. 

"I am very sorry I teased you, cousin Tom, " she said very softly, as Iturned to her to say goodnight. "Your eagerness to go with Mr. Washingtonpleased me mightily. It is just what I should have done if I were a man. Good-night, " and before I could find my tongue, she was again at Mrs. Washington's side. 

I made my way back to my room at the college, and went to bed, but itseemed to me that the night, albeit already far spent, would never pass. Sleep was out of the question, and I tossed from side to side, thinkingnow of Dorothy, now of my new friend and his perilous expedition over theAlleghenies, now of my late resolve. It was in no wise weakened in themorning, as so many resolves of youth are like to be, and so soon as Ihad dressed and breakfasted, I sought out the best master of fence in theplace, --a man whose skill had won him much renown, and who for three orfour years past, finding life on the continent grown very unhealthy, hadbeen imparting such of it as he could to the Virginia gentry, --andinsisted that he give me a lesson straightway. 

He gave me a half hour's practice, for the most part in quatre andtierce, --my A B C's, as it were, --and the ease with which he held me offand bent his foil against my breast at pleasure chafed me greatly, andshowed me how much I had yet to learn, besides making me somewhat lessvain of my size and strength. For my antagonist was but a small man, andyet held me at a distance with consummate ease, and twisted my foil frommy hand with a mere turn of his wrist. Still, he had the grace to commendme when the bout was ended, and I at once arranged to take two lessonsdaily while I remained in Williamsburg. 

It was ten o'clock when I turned my steps toward the house where theWashingtons were stopping, and, with much inward trepidation, walked upto the door and knocked. In a moment I was in the presence of the ladies, Mrs. Washington receiving me very kindly, and Dorothy looking doublyadorable in her simple morning frock. But I was ill at ease, and thesound of voices in an adjoining room increased my restlessness. 

"Do you not see what it is, madam?" cried Dorothy, at last. "He has nowish for the society of women this morning. He has gone mad like therest of them. He is dying to talk of war and the French and expeditionsover the mountains, as Mr. Washington and his friends are doing. Is itnot so, sir?"

"Indeed, I cannot deny it, " I said, with a very red face. "I am immenselyinterested in Major Washington's expedition. "

Mrs. Washington smiled kindly and bade Dorothy take me to the gentlemen, which she did with a wicked twinkle in her eye that warned me I shouldyet pay dear for my effrontery. Mr. Washington and half a dozen friendswere seated about the room, talking through clouds of tobacco smoke ofthe coming expedition. There were George Fairfax, and Colonel Nelson, andJudge Pegram, and three or four other gentlemen, to all of whom I wasintroduced. The host waved me to a pile of pipes and case ofsweet-scented on the table, and I was soon adding my quota to the cloudswhich enveloped us, and listening with all my ears to what was said. 

It had been agreed that the start should be made at once, the partymeeting at Will's Creek, where the Ohio company had a station, andproceeding thence to Logstown, and so on to Venango, or, if necessary, tothe fort on French Creek. How my cheeks burned as I thought of thatjourney through the wilderness and over the mountains, and how I longedto be of the party! But I soon saw how impossible this was, for Mr. Washington's companions must needs be hardened men, accustomed to theperils of the forest and acquainted with the country. A bowl of punch wasbrought, and after discussing this, the company separated, though nottill all of them had wrung Mr. Washington's hand and wished him a quickjourney. I was going with the others, when he detained me. 

"I wish a word with you, Mr. Stewart, " he said. "I shall have to leavefor Mount Vernon at once, and make the trip as rapidly as possible, inorder to prepare for this expedition. May I ask if it would be possiblefor you to accompany my mother and Miss Dolly home when their visit hereis ended, which will be in about a week's time?"

"Certainly, " I answered warmly, "I shall be only too glad to be ofservice to you and to them, Mr. Washington, " and I thought with tinglingnerves that Dorothy and I could not fail to be thrown much together. 

So it was arranged, and that afternoon he set out for Mount Vernon, whence he would go direct to Will's Creek. His mother cried a littleafter he was gone, so Dorothy told me, but she was proud of her boy, asshe had good cause to be, and appeared before the world with smilingface. The week which followed flew by like a dream. I took my lessonwith the foils morning and evening, and soon began to make some progressin the art. As much time as Dorothy would permit, I spent with her, andin one of our talks she told me that she had drawn from her mother bymuch questioning the story of my father's marriage and of the quarrelwhich followed. 

"When I heard, " she concluded, "how Riverview might have been yours butfor that unhappy dispute, "--so Mrs. Stewart had not told the whole truth, and I smiled grimly to myself, --"I saw how unjustly and harshly we hadalways used you, and I made up my mind to be very good to you when nextwe met, as some slight recompense. "

"And is it for that only you are kind to me, Dorothy?" I asked. "Is itnot a little for my own sake?"

"Hoity-toity, " she cried, "an you try me too far, I shall withdraw myfavor altogether, sir. My cheeks burn still when I think what might havehappened at the ball the other night, when you so far forgot yourself asto grab at me like a wild Indian. 'Twas well I had my wits about me. "

"But, indeed, Dorothy, " I protested, "'twas all your fault. You hadplagued me beyond endurance. "

"I fear you are a very bold young man, " she answered pensively, and whenI would have proved the truth of her assertion, sent me packing. 

So the week passed, the day came when we were to leave Williamsburg, andat six o'clock one cool October morning, the great coach of theWashingtons rolled westward down the sandy street, the maples castinglong shadows across the road. And on the side where Mistress Dorothy sat, I was riding at the window. 

CHAPTER VIII

A RIDE TO WILLIAMSBURG

I was received civilly enough at Riverview, and soon determined to remainthere until Major Washington returned from the west. My aunt treated mewith great consideration, doubtless because she feared to anger me, and Isoon fell into the routine of the estate. My cousin James, a roysteringboy of fourteen, was not yet old enough to be covetous, and he and I weresoon friends. Dorothy treated me as she had always done, with a heartysisterly affection, which gave me much uneasiness, 't was so unlike myown, and I was at some pains to point out to her that we were notcousins, nor, indeed, any relation whatsoever. In return for which shemerely laughed at me. 

By great good fortune, I found among the overseers on my aunt's estate aman who had been a soldier of fortune in the Old World until someescapade had driven him to seek safety in the colonies, and with myaunt's permission, I secured him to teach me what he knew of the practiceof arms, a tutelage which he entered upon with fine enthusiasm. He wascalled Captain Paul on the plantation, --a little, wiry man, with fiercemustaches and flashing eyes, greatly feared by the negroes, though healways treated them kindly enough, so far as I could see. He claimed tobe an Englishman, --certainly he spoke the language as well as any I everheard, --but his dark eyes and swarthy skin bespoke the Spaniard orItalian, and his quickness with the foils the French. A strain of allthese bloods I think he must have had, but of his family he would tell menothing, nor of the trouble which had brought him over-sea. But of hisfeats of arms he loved to speak, --and they were worth the telling. He hadbeen with Plelo's heroic little band of Frenchmen before Dantzic, where ahundred deeds of valor were performed every day, and with Broglie beforeParma, where he had witnessed the rout of the Austrians. For hourstogether I made him recount to me the story of his campaigns, and when hegrew weary of talking and I of listening, we had a round with the rapier, or a bout with the sword on horseback, and as the weeks passed, I found Iwas gaining some small proficiency. He drilled me, too, in anotherexercise which he thought most important, that of shooting from horsebackwith the pistol. 

"'T is an accomplishment which has saved my life a score of times, " hewould say, "and of more value in a charge than any swordsmanship. A manmust be a swordsman to defend his honor, and a good shot with the pistolto defend his life. Accomplished in both, he is armed cap-a-pie againstthe world. The pistol has its rules as well as the sword. For instance, --

"'When you charge an adversary, always compel him to fire first, for theone who fires first rarely hits his mark. 

"'At the instant you see him about to fire, make your horse rear. Thiswill throw your horse before you as a shield, and if the aim is true, 'twill be your horse that is hit and not yourself. The life of a horse isvaluable, but that of a man is more so. 

"If your horse has not been hit, or is not badly hurt, you have youradversary at your mercy, and can either kill him or take him prisoner, asyou may choose. If he be well mounted, and well accoutred, it is usuallywisest to take him prisoner. 

"'If your horse has been hit mortally, take care that in falling you getclear of him by holding your leg well out and so alighting on your feet. You can easily recover in time to pistol your adversary as he passes. 

"'Above everything, learn to aim quickly, with both eyes open, the armslightly bent, the pistol no higher than the breast. When the arm isfully extended, the tension causes it to tremble and so destroys the aim, and the man who cannot hit the mark without sighting along the barrel isusually dead before he can pull the trigger. '"

These and many other things he told me, and that I threw myself witheagerness into the lessons I need hardly say, though I never acquired hisproficiency with either pistol or rapier. For I have seen him bring downa hawk upon the wing, or throwing his finger-ring high into the air, passhis rapier neatly through it as it shot down past him. Another trick ofhis do I remember, --une, deux, trois, and a turn of the wrist inflanconade, --which seldom failed to tear my sword from my hand, soquickly and irresistibly did he perform it. What his lot has been I donot know, for when the king's troops came to Virginia, he was seized witha strange restlessness and resigned from my aunt's service, going I knownot whither; but if he be alive, there is a place at my board and acorner of my chimney for him, where he would be more than welcome. 

In the mean time, not a word had been received from Major Washington--wecalled him major now, deeming that he had well earned the title--sincehe had plunged into the wilderness at Will's Creek in mid-November, accompanied only by Christopher Gist as guide, John Davidson and JacobVan Braam as interpreters, and four woodsmen, Barnaby Currin, JohnM'Quire, Henry Steward, and William Jenkins, as servants. November andDecember passed, and Christmas was at hand. There had been greatpreparation for it at Riverview, for we of Virginia loved the holiday themore because the Puritans detested it, and all the smaller gentry of thecounty was gathered at the house, where there were feasting and dancingand much merry-making. One incident of it do I remember mostdistinctly, --that having, with consummate generalship, cornered MistressDorothy under a sprig of mistletoe, I suddenly found myself utterlybereft of the courage to carry the matter to a conclusion, and allowedher to escape unkissed, for which she laughed at me most unmercifullyonce the danger was passed, though she had feigned the utmost indignationwhile the assault threatened. So the holidays went and New Year's came. 

It was the thirteenth of January, and in the dusk of the evening I wasriding back to the house as usual after my bout with Captain Paul, when Iheard far up the road behind me the beat of horse's hoofs. InstinctivelyI knew it was Major Washington, and I drew rein and watched the riderswinging toward me. In a moment he was at my side, and we exchanged awarm handclasp from saddle to saddle. 

"I am on my way to Riverview, " he said, as we again urged our horsesforward. "I hope to stay there the night and start at daybreak forWilliamsburg to make my report to the governor. Do you care to accompanyme, Mr. Stewart?"

"Do you need to ask?" I cried. "And what was the outcome of yourmission, sir?"

"There will be war, " he said, and his face darkened. "It is as Iforesaw. The French are impudent, and claim the land belongs to them andnot to us. "

Neither of us spoke again, but I confess I was far from sharing the gloomof my companion. Had I not determined to be a soldier, and how was asoldier to find employment, but in war? I looked at him narrowly as werode, and saw that he was thinner than when he had left us, and that hisface was browned by much exposure. 

Right heartily was he welcomed to Riverview, and when dinner had beenserved and ended, nothing would do but that he should sit down among usand tell us the story of his mission. He could scarce have failed to drawinspiration from such an audience, for Dorothy's eyes were sparkling, andI was fairly trembling with excitement. Would that I could tell the storyas he told it, but that were impossible. 

He and his little party had gone from Will's Creek to the forks of theOhio, through the untrodden wilderness and across swollen streams, struggling on over the threatening mountains and fighting their waythrough the gloomy and unbroken forest, and thence down the river to theIndian village of Logstown. There he had parleyed with the Indians fornear a week before he could persuade the Half King and three of histribesmen to accompany him as guides. Buffeted by unceasing storms, theytoiled on to Venango, where there was an English trading-house, which theFrench had seized and converted into a military post. Chabert de Joncairecommanded, and received the party most civilly. Major Washington wasbanqueted that evening by the officers of the post, and as the wineflowed freely, the French forgot their prudence, and declaredunreservedly that they intended keeping possession of the Ohio, whetherthe English liked it or not. Joncaire, however, asserted that he couldnot receive Dinwiddie's letter, and referred Major Washington to hissuperior officer at Fort le Boeuf. So, leaving Venango, for four daysmore the party struggled northward. The narrow traders' path had beenquite blotted out, and the forest was piled waist-deep with snow. Atlast, when it seemed that human endurance could win no further, theysighted the squared chestnut walls of Fort le Boeuf. 

The commander here, Legardeur de Saint-Pierre, also received them well, and to him Major Washington delivered his letter from Governor Dinwiddie, asking by what right the French had crossed the Lakes and invaded Britishterritory, and demanding their immediate withdrawal. Saint-Pierre wasthree days preparing his answer, which he intrusted to Major Washington, and at the end of that time the latter, with great difficulty persuadinghis Indians to accompany him, started back to Virginia. They reachedVenango on Christmas Day. Here their horses gave out, and he and Gistpushed forward alone on foot, leaving the others to follow as best theymight. A French Indian fired at them from ambush, but missed his mark, and to escape pursuit by his tribesmen, they walked steadily forward fora day and a night, until they reached the Allegheny. They tried to makethe crossing on a raft, but were caught in the drifting ice and nearlydrowned before they gained an island in the middle of the river. Herethey remained all night, foodless and well-nigh frozen, and in themorning, finding the ice set, crossed in safety to the shore. Onceacross, they reached the house of a man named Fraser, on theMonongahela, --a house they were to see again, but under far differentcircumstances, --and leaving there on the first day of January, they madetheir way back to the settlements without adventure. Major Washington hadreached Mount Vernon that afternoon, and after stopping to see hismother, had ridden on to Riverview. 

Long before the recital ended, I was out of my chair and pacing up anddown the room, and Dorothy clapped her hands with joy when that perilouspassage of the Allegheny had been accomplished. 

"So you think there will be war?" I asked. "But you do not know what M. De Saint-Pierre has written to the governor. "

"I can guess, " he answered, with a smile. "Yes, there will be war. "

"And if there is?" I cried, all my eagerness in my face. 

"And if there is, Mr. Stewart, " he said calmly, but with a deep light inhis eyes, "depend upon it, you shall go with me. "

I wrung his hand madly. I could have embraced him. Dorothy laughed at myenthusiasm, but with a trace of tears in her eyes, or so I fancied. 

Well, we were finally abed, and up betimes in the morning. Our horseswere brought round from the stable, and our bags swung up behind thesaddles. I had tried in vain, all the morning, to corner Dorothy sothat I might say good-by with no one looking on, but the minx hadeluded me, and I had to be content with a mere handclasp on the stepsbefore the others. But as we rode away and I looked back for a lastsight of her, she waved her hands to me and blew me a kiss from herfingers. So my heart was warm within me as we pushed on through thedark aisles of the forest. 

The roads were heavy with mud and melting snow, for the weather hadturned warm, and it was not until mid-afternoon that we reachedFredericksburg. We stopped there an hour to feed and wind our horses, andthen pressed on to the country seat of Mr. Philip Clayton, below PortRoyal, on the Rappahannock. Major Washington had met Mr. Clayton atWilliamsburg, and he welcomed us most kindly. By the evening of thesecond day we had reached King William Court House, where we found a verygood inn, and the next day, just as evening came, we clattered intoWilliamsburg, very tired and very dirty. But without drawing rein, MajorWashington rode straight to the governor's house, threw his bridle to anegro, and ordered a footman to announce him at once to his master. 

"You are to come with me, Mr. Stewart, " he said, seeing that I hesitated. "'T will be a good time to present you to his Excellency, " and we walkedtogether up the wide steps which led to the veranda. 

Even as we reached the top, the door at the end of the hall was thrownviolently open, and Governor Dinwiddie stumbled toward us, his face redwith excitement. He had evidently just risen from table, for he carried anapkin in his hand, and there were traces of food on his expansivewaistcoat, for he was anything but a dainty feeder. His uncertain gaitshowed that he still suffered from the effects of a recent attack ofparalysis. 

"By God, Major Washington, " he cried, "but I'm glad to see you! I'd begunto think the French or the Indians had gobbled you up. So you've gotback, sir? And did you see the French?"

"I saw the French, your Excellency, " answered Washington, taking hisoutstretched hand. "I delivered your message, and brought one in reply. But first let me present my friend, Mr. Thomas Stewart, who is a neighborof mine at Mount Vernon and a man of spirit. "

"Glad to meet you, Mr. Stewart, " said Dinwiddie, and he gave me his handfor an instant. "We may have need erelong of men of spirit. "

"I trust so, certainly, your Excellency, " I cried, and bowed before him. 

Dinwiddie looked at me for an instant with a smile. 

"Come, gentlemen, " he said, "you have been riding all day, I dare say, and must have some refreshment, " but Washington placed a hand on his armas he turned to give an order to one of the waiting negroes. 

"Not until I have made my report, Governor Dinwiddie, " he said. 

Dinwiddie turned back to him. 

"You're a man after my own heart, Major Washington!" he cried. "Come intomy office, both of you, for, in truth, I am dying of impatience to hearof the journey, " and he led the way into a spacious room, where there wasa great table littered with papers, a dozen chairs, but little otherfurniture. The candles were brought, and Dinwiddie dropped into a deepchair, motioning Washington and myself to sit down opposite him. "Now, major, " he cried, "let us have your story. "

So Washington told again of the trip over the mountains and through theforests, Dinwiddie interrupting from time to time with an exclamation ofwonder or approbation. 

"Here is the message from M. De Saint-Pierre, " concluded Washington, drawing a sealed packet from an inner pocket. "'T is somewhat stained bywater, but I trust still legible. "

Dinwiddie took it with nervous fingers, glanced at the superscription, tore it open, and ran his eyes rapidly over the contents. My hands weretrembling, for I realized that on this note hung the issue of war orpeace for America. He read it through a second time more slowly, thenfolded it very calmly and laid it down before him on the table. My heartsank within me, --it was peace, then, and there would be no employment formy sword. I had been wasting my time with Captain Paul. But whenDinwiddie raised his eyes, I saw they were agleam. 

"M. De Saint-Pierre writes, " he said, "that he cannot discuss thequestion of territory, since that is quite without his province, but willsend my message to the Marquis Duquesne, in command of the French armiesin America, at Quebec, and will await his orders. He adds that, in themean time, he will remain at his post, as his general has commanded. "

We were all upon our feet. I drew a deep breath, and saw thatWashington's hand was trembling on his sword-hilt. 

"Since he will not leave of his own accord, " cried Dinwiddie, hiscalmness slipping from him in an instant, "there remains only one thingto be done, --he must be made to leave, and not a French uniform must beleft in the Ohio valley! Major Washington, I offer you the seniormajorship of the regiment which will march against him. "

"And I accept, sir!" cried Washington, moved as I had seldom seen him. "May I ask your Excellency's permission to appoint Mr. Stewart here oneof my ensigns?"

"Certainly, " said the governor heartily. "From what I have seen of Mr. Stewart, I should conclude that nothing could be better;" and when Itried to stammer my thanks, he waved his hand to me kindly and rang forwine. "Let us drink, " he said, as he filled the glasses, "to the successof our arms and the establishment of his Majesty's dominion on the Ohio. "

CHAPTER IX

MY FIRST TASTE OF WARFARE

Whatever defects Dinwiddie may have had, indecision was certainly not oneof them, and the very next day the machinery was set in motion for theadvance against the French. Colonel Joshua Fry was selected to head theexpedition, and Colonel Washington made second in command. Colonel Fry atone time taught mathematics at William and Mary, but found the routine ofthe class-room too humdrum, and so sought a more exciting life. He hadfound it along the borders of the frontier, and in 1750 was made colonelof militia and member of the governor's council. Two years later, he wassent to Logstown to treat with the Indians, and made a map of the colony. He knew the frontier as well as any white man, and because of this waschosen our commander. 

Not a moment was to be lost, for Colonel Washington, while at Fort leBoeuf, had observed the great preparations made by the French todescend the Allegheny in the spring and take possession of the Ohiovalley, but we hoped to forestall them. The triangle between the forksof the Ohio was admirably adapted for fortification, and it wasproposed to throw up a fort there so that the French would get a warmreception when their canoes came floating down the river, and be forcedto retreat to the Lakes. Dinwiddie's energy was wide-felt, and thewhole colony was soon astir. 

He convened the House of Burgesses, laid Colonel Washington's reportbefore it, and secured a grant of �10, 000 for purposes of defense; heurged the governors of the other colonies, from the Carolinas north toJersey, to send reinforcements at once to Will's Creek, whence the startwas to be made; he sent messengers with presents to the Ohio Indians, pressing them to take up the hatchet against the French, and authorizedthe enlistment of three hundred men. William Trent, an Indian trader, andbrother-in-law of Colonel George Croghan, was commissioned to raise acompany of a hundred men from among the backwoodsmen along the frontier, and started at once for the Ohio country to get his men together andbegin work on the fort, the main body to follow so soon as it could beproperly equipped. 

Long before this I had secured my uniform and accoutrements, --which mythree shillings a day were far from paying for, --and was kept busysuperintending the storage of wagons or drilling under Captain AdamStephen, in whose company I was, at Alexandria. The men were for the mostpart poor whites, who had enlisted because they could earn their bread noother way, and promised to make but indifferent soldiers. We wereprovided with ten cannon, all four-pounders, which had been presented bythe king to Virginia, and eighty barrels of powder, together withsmall-arms, thirty tents, and six months' provision of flour, pork, andbeef. These were forwarded to Will's Creek as rapidly as possible, but atthe best it was slow work, and April was in sight before the expeditionwas ready to move. During near all of this time, Colonel Washington wasvirtually in command, for Colonel Fry was taken with a fever, which kepthim for the most part to his bed. There seemed no prospect of hisimprovement, so he ordered the expedition to advance without him, he tofollow so soon as he could sit a horse. That time was never to come, forhe died at Will's Creek on the last day of May. 

So at last the advance commenced, and from daylight to sunset we foughtour way through the forest. It rained almost incessantly, and I admit thework was more severe than I had ever done, for the bridle-paths were toonarrow to permit the passage of the guns and wagons, and a way had to becut for them; yet all the men were in good spirits, animated by theexample of Colonel Washington and the other officers. Those I came toknow best were of Captain Stephen's company, and a braver, merrier set ofmen it has never been my privilege to meet. We were drawn from all thequarters of the globe. There was Lieutenant William Poison, a Scot, whohad been concerned in the rebellion of '45, and so found it imperative tocome to Virginia to spend the remainder of his days, though at the firstscent of battle he was in arms again. There was Ensign William, Chevalier de Peyronie, a French Protestant, driven from his home much asthe Fontaine family, and who had settled in Virginia. There wasLieutenant Thomas Waggoner, whom I was to know so well a year later. Andabove all, there was Ensign Carolus Gustavus de Spiltdorph, a quiet, unassuming fellow, but brave as a lion, who lies to-day in an unmarkedgrave on the bank of the Monongahela. I can see him yet, with his blueeyes and blond beard, sitting behind a cloud of smoke in one corner ofthe tent, listening to our wild talk with a queer gleam in his eyes, andputting in a word of dry sarcasm now and then. For when the day's marchwas done, those of us who were not on duty gathered in our tent andtalked of the time when we should meet the French. And Peyronie, because, though a Frenchman, he had suffered most at their hands, was the mostbloodthirsty of us all. 

Then the first blow fell. It was the night of the twentieth of April, andour force had halted near Colonel Cresap's house, sixteen miles fromWill's Creek. I was in charge of the sentries to the west of the camp. The weather had been cold and threatening, with a dash of rain now andthen, and we had made only five miles that day, the guns and wagonsmiring in the muddy road, which for the most part was through a marsh. Asevening came, the rain had set in steadily, and the sentries protectedthemselves as best they could behind the trees or under hastilyconstructed shelters. I had just made my first round and found all well, when I heard a sentry near by challenge sharply. 

"What is it?" I cried, hastening to him, and then I saw that he hadstopped a horseman. The horse was breathing in short, uncertain gasps, asthough near winded. 

"A courier from the Ohio, so he says, sir, " answered the sentry. 

"With an urgent message for Colonel Washington, " added the man onhorseback. 

"Very well, " I said, "come with me, " and catching the horse by thebridle, I started toward the commander's tent, in which a light was stillburning. A word to the sentry before it brought Colonel Washingtonhimself to the door, and he signed for us to enter. The courier slippedfrom his horse, and would have fallen, had I not caught him and placedhim on his feet. 

"'T is the first time I have left the saddle for two days, " he gasped, and I helped him into the tent, where he dropped upon a stool. Washingtonpoured out a glass of brandy and handed it to him. He swallowed it at agulp, and it gave him back a little of his strength. 

"I bring bad news, Colonel Washington, " he said. "Lieutenant Ward and hiswhole command were captured by the French on the seventeenth, and thefort at the forks of the Ohio is in their hands. "

I turned cold under the blow, but Washington did not move a muscle, onlyhis mouth seemed to tighten at the corners. 

"How did it happen?" he asked. 

"Captain Trent and his men arrived at the Ohio on the tenth of April, "said the courier, "and we set to work at once to throw up the fort. Wemade good progress, but on the morning of the seventeenth, while CaptainTrent and thirty of the men were absent, leaving Lieutenant Ward incommand, the river was suddenly covered with canoes crowded with Frenchand Indians. There were at least eight hundred of them, and they had adozen pieces of artillery. We had no choice but to surrender. "

"On what terms?" questioned Washington quickly. 

"That we march out with the honors of war and return to Virginia. "

"And this was done?"

"Yes, this was done. Lieutenant Ward and his men will join you in aday or two. "

"You have done well, " said Washington warmly. "I am sure Lieutenant Wardcould have done naught else under the circumstances. Forty men are notexpected to resist eight hundred, and I shall see that the occurrence isproperly represented to the governor. Lieutenant Stewart, will you seethat a meal and a good bed be provided? Good night, gentlemen. "

We saluted and left the tent, and I led him over to our company quarters, where the best we had was placed before him. Other officers, who had gotwind of his arrival, dropped in, and he told again the story of themeeting with the enemy. It was certain that there were from six to eighthundred French and a great number of Indians before us, while we werebarely three hundred, and as I returned to my post, I wondered ifColonel Washington would dare press on to face such odds. The answer camein the morning, when the order was given to march as usual. Two dayslater, we had reached Will's Creek, where we found Lieutenant Ward andhis men awaiting us. He stated that there were not less than a thousandFrench at the forks of the Ohio. It was sheer folly to advance with ourpetty force in face of odds so overwhelming, and a council of theofficers was called by Colonel Washington to determine what course tofollow. It was decided that we advance as far as Red Stone Creek, on theMonongahela, thirty-seven miles this side the Forks, and there erect afortification and await fresh orders. Stores had already been built atRed Stone for our munitions, and from there our great guns could be sentby water so soon as we were ready to attack the French. In conclusion, itwas judged that it were better to occupy our men in cutting a roadthrough the wilderness than that they should be allowed to waste theirtime in idleness and dissipation. 

Captain Trent and the thirty men who were with him, hearing from theIndians of the disaster which had overtaken their companions, marchedback to meet us, and joined us the next day. Trent himself met coldwelcome, for his absence from the fort at the time of the attack was heldto be most culpable. Dinwiddie was so enraged, when he learned of it, that he ordered Trent court-martialed forthwith, but this was never done. His backwoodsmen were wild and reckless fellows, incapable ofdiscipline, and soon took themselves off to the settlements, while wetoiled on westward through the now unbroken forest. Our advance to Will'sCreek had been difficult enough, but it was nothing to the task which nowconfronted us, for the country grew more rough and broken, and there wasnot the semblance of a road. We were a week in making twenty miles, andaccomplished that only by labor well-nigh superhuman. 

The story of one day was the story of all the others. Obstaclesconfronted us at every step, but we struggled forward, dragging thewagons ourselves when the horses gave out, as they soon did, and finally, toward the end of May, we won through to a pleasant valley named GreatMeadows, dominated by a mountain called Laurel Hill. Here there wasabundant forage, and as the horses could go no further, ColonelWashington ordered a halt, and determined to await the promisedreinforcements. A few days later, a company of regulars under CaptainMackay joined us, together with near a hundred men of the regiment whohad remained behind with Colonel Fry, raising our numbers to four hundredmen, though many were wasted with fever and dysentery. 

Those of us who were able set to work throwing up a breastwork of logs, under the direction of Captain Robert Stobo, and at the end of three dayshad completed an inclosure a hundred feet square, with a rude cabin inthe centre to hold our munitions and supplies. 

There had been many alarms that the French were marching against us, butall of them had proved untrue, so when, some days after, the reportspread through the camp again that the enemy were near, I paid littleheed to it, and went to sleep as usual. How long I slept, I do not know, but I was awakened by some one shaking me by the shoulder. 

"Get up at once, lieutenant, and report at headquarters, " said a voice Irecognized as Waggoner's, and as I sat upright with a jerk, he passed onto awake another sleeper. I was out of bed in an instant, and threw on myclothing with nervous haste. I could hear a storm raging, and when Istepped outside the tent, I was almost blinded by the rain, driven ingreat sheets before the wind. I fought my way against it to Washington'stent, where I found Captain Stephen and some thirty men, and otherscoming up every moment. 

"What is it?" I asked of Waggoner, who had got back to headquartersbefore me, but he shook his head to show that he knew no more than I. 

A moment later, the flap of the tent was raised, and Colonel Washingtonappeared, wrapped in his cloak as though for a journey, and followed byan Indian, who, I learned afterwards, was none other than the Half King. He spoke a few words to Captain Stephen, and the order was given to formin double rank and march, Colonel Washington himself leading theexpedition, which numbered all told some forty men. 

I shall never forget that midnight march through the forest, with therain falling in a deluge through the dripping trees, the lightningflashing and the thunder rolling. We stumbled along upon each other'sheels, falling over logs or underbrush, the wet branches switching ourfaces raw and soaking us through and through. It seemed to me that wemust have covered fifteen or twenty miles, at least, when the first grayof the morning brightened the horizon and a halt was called, but reallywe had come little more than five. Here it was found that seven men hadbeen lost upon the way, and that our powder was so wet that most of itwas useless, to many of us the charge in our firelocks being all thatremained serviceable. After an hour's halt, the order came again tomarch, with caution to move warily. Scouts were thrown out ahead, andsoon came back with tidings that the enemy was hard by. 

My hands were trembling with excitement as we crept forward to the edgeof a rocky hollow, and as we looked down the slope, we could see theFrench below. There were thirty of them or more, and they were gettingbreakfast, their arms stacked beside them. Almost at the same instanttheir sentries saw us and gave the alarm. 

"Follow me, men!" cried Washington, and he started down the slope, weafter him. As we went, the French sprang to arms and gave us a volley, but it was badly aimed in their excitement and so did little damage. Aswe closed in on them we returned their fire, and some eight or nine fell, while the others, thinking doubtless that they had been surprised by alarge force, threw down their guns and held up their hands in token ofsurrender. Captain Stephen had been slightly wounded, but charged ondown the slope ahead of us, and took prisoner a young officer, whorefused to surrender, but kept on fighting until his sword was knockedfrom his hand. Then he began to tear his hair and curse in French, pointing now and again to another officer who lay among the dead. He grewso violent that he attracted Colonel Washington's attention. 

"Come here a moment, Lieutenant Peyronie, " he called. "You understandFrench. What is this fellow saying?"

Peyronie exchanged a few words with the prisoner, who stooped, drew apaper from the inner pocket of the dead officer's coat, and held ittoward us. Peyronie took it, glanced over it with grave countenance, andturned to Colonel Washington. 

"This man is Ensign Marie Drouillon, sir, " he said. "The party was incommand of Ensign Coulon de Jumonville, whom you see lying dead there. M. Drouillon claims that the party did not come against us as spies, or forthe purpose of fighting, but simply to bring a message to you from M. DeContrecoeur, who is in command of the fort at the forks of the Ohio, which, it seems, has been named Fort Duquesne. This is the message, " andhe held out the paper to Washington. 

"'Tis in French, " said the latter, glancing over it. "What does it say?"

"It warns you to return to the settlements, " answered Peyronie, "on thepretext that all the land this side the mountains belongs to France. "

Here the prisoner, who was evidently laboring under great excitement, broke in, and said something rapidly in a loud voice, which made Peyronieflush, and drew nods and cries of approbation from the other prisoners. 

"What does he say?" asked Washington, seeing that Peyronie hesitated. 

"He says, sir, " answered Peyronie, with evident reluctance, "that M. DeJumonville came in the character of an ambassador and has beenassassinated. "

Washington flushed hotly and his eyes grew dark. 

"Ask M. Drouillon, " he said, "why an ambassador thought it necessary tobring with him a guard of thirty men?"

Peyronie put the question, but Drouillon did not reply. 

"Ask him also, " continued Washington, "why he remained concealed near mytroops for three days, instead of coming directly to me as an ambassadorshould have done?"

Again Peyronie put the question, and again there was no answer. 

"Tell him, " said Washington sternly, "that I see through his trick, --thatI comprehend it thoroughly. M. Jumonville counted on using his pretext ofambassador to spy upon my camp, and to avert an attack in case he wasdiscovered. Well, he produced his message too late. He has behaved as anenemy, and has been treated as such. That he is dead is wholly his ownfault. Had he chosen the part of an ambassador instead of that of a spy, this would not have happened. "

He turned away, and apparently dismissed the matter from his mind, butthat it troubled him long afterward I am quite certain, though in thewhole affair no particle of blame attached to him. The French made agreat outcry about it, but I have never heard that any of them everanswered the questions which were put to M. Drouillon. The truth of thematter is, that they were only too eager for some pretext upon which tobase the assertion that it was the English who began hostilities, andthis flimsy excuse was the best they could invent. But that little brushunder the trees on that windy May morning was to have momentousconsequences, for it was the beginning of the struggle which drenched thecontinent in blood. 

CHAPTER X

THE FRENCH SCORE FIRST

We marched back to the camp at Great Meadows with our prisoners, --sometwenty in all, --much elated at our success, but near dead with fatigue. Lieutenant Spiltdorph was selected to escort them to Virginia, and setoff with them toward noon, together with twenty men, cursing the ill-luckwhich deprived him of the opportunity to make the remainder of thecampaign with us. 

For that the French would march against us in force was well-nighcertain, once they learned of Jumonville's defeat, of which the Indianswould soon inform them, and that we should be outnumbered three or fourto one seemed inevitable. But no one thought of retreat, our commander, Iam sure, least of all. He seemed everywhere at once, heartening the men, inspecting equipment, overseeing the preparations for defense. The onlyhostile element in the camp was the company of regulars under CaptainMackay, who refused to assist in any of the work, asserting that theywere employed only to fight. Captain Mackay, too, holding his commissionfrom the king, claimed to outrank Colonel Washington, and yielded him buta reluctant and sullen obedience. 

Christopher Gist, who had just come from Will's Creek with tidings ofColonel Fry's death, was of the opinion that a much more effectiveresistance might be made at his plantation, twelve miles further on, where there were some strong log buildings and a ground, so he claimed, admirably suited for intrenchment. Accordingly, we set out for there, arriving after a fatiguing journey. The horses were in worse case thanever, and only two miserable teams and a few tottering pack-horsesremained capable of working. Finally, on the twenty-ninth of June, theHalf King, who had been our faithful friend throughout, brought us wordthat seven hundred French and three or four hundred Indians had marchedfrom Fort Duquesne against us. As the news spread through the camp, theofficers left the intrenchments upon which they had been at work, andgathered to discuss the news. There a message from Colonel Washingtonsummoned us to a conference at Gist's cabin. 

"Gentlemen, " he said, when we had all assembled, "I need not tell youthat the situation is most critical. We can scarce hope to successfullyoppose an enemy who outnumbers us three to one, and yet 't is impossibleto retreat without abandoning all our baggage and munitions, since wehave no means of transport. "

He fell silent for a moment, and no one spoke. I saw that the worry ofthe last few weeks had left its mark upon him, for there was a linebetween his eyes which I had never seen before, but which never left himafterward. 

"What I propose, " he said at last, "is to fall back to Great Meadows. Ibelieve it to be better fitted for defense than this place, which iscommanded by half a dozen hills, and where we could not hope to hold outagainst artillery fire. At Great Meadows we can strengthen ourintrenchment in the middle of the plain, and the French will hardly dareattempt to carry it by assault, since they must advance without cover fortwo hundred yards or more. It is a charming field for an encounter. Hasany one a better plan?"

Mackay was the first to speak. 

"'Tis better to lose our baggage than to lose both it and our lives, " hesaid. "The French may not care to risk an assault, but they have only tosit down about the work for a day or two to starve us out. "

"That is true, " answered Washington, and his face was very grave; "yetreinforcements cannot be far distant. Two independent companies from NewYork reached Annapolis a fortnight since, and are doubtless being hurriedforward. Other companies have arrived in the colony, and must be near athand. Besides, " he added, in a firmer tone, "I cannot consent to returnto Virginia without striking at least one blow at the French, else thisexpedition might just as well have never been begun. "

"That is the point!" cried Stephen. "Let us not run away until we seesomething to run from. Your plan is the best possible under thecircumstances, Colonel Washington. "

We all of us echoed this opinion, and after thanking us warmly, ourcommander bade us make ready at once for the return to Great Meadows. Thebaggage was done into packs as large as a man could carry; a force wastold off to drag the swivels; the officers added their horses to thetrain, and prepared to carry packs just as the men did. ColonelWashington left half of his personal baggage behind, paying some soldiersfour pistoles to carry the remainder. So at daybreak we set out, thesufferings of our men being greatly aggravated by the conduct of theregulars, who refused to carry a pound of baggage or place a hand uponthe ropes by which we dragged our guns after us. 

The miseries of that day I hope never to see repeated. Men droppedsenseless on the road, or fell beneath the trees, unable to go further. The main body of the troops struggled on, leaving these stragglers tofollow when they could, and on the morning of the next day we reachedGreat Meadows, weak, trembling, and exhausted. But even here there was norest for us, for it was necessary to strengthen our defenses against theattack which could not be long deferred. The breastwork seemed all tooweak now we knew the force which would be brought against it, and westarted to dig a trench around it, but so feeble were the men that it wasonly half completed. Even at the best, our condition was little short ofdesperate. Much of our ammunition had been ruined, and our supply ofprovisions was near gone. We had been without bread for above a week, and while we had plenty of cattle for beef, we had no salt with which tocure the meat, and the hot summer sun soon made it unfit to eat. 

Yet, with all this, there was little murmuring, the example of ourcommander encouraging us all. At our council in our tent that evening, Peyronie, with invincible good humor, declared that no man could complainso long as the tobacco lasted, and in a cloud of blue-gray smoke, we gaveour hastily constructed fort the suggestive name of "Fort Necessity. "

The morning of the third of July was spent by us in overhauling thefirelocks and making the last dispositions of our men. Colonel Washingtoninspected personally the whole line, and saw that no detail wasoverlooked. He had not slept for two nights, but seemed indefatigable, and even the regulars cheered him as he passed along the breastwork. Butat last the inspection was finished and we settled down to wait. 

Peyronie and myself had been stationed at the northwest corner of thefort with thirty men, and just before noon, from far away in the forest, came the sound of a single musket shot. We waited in suspense for whatmight follow, and in a moment a sentry came running from the wood withone arm swinging useless by his side. 

"They have come!" he cried, as he tumbled over the breastwork. "They willbe here in a moment, " and even as he spoke, the edge of the forest wasfilled with French and Indians, and a lively fire was opened against us, but the range was so great that the bullets did no damage. The drums beatthe alarm, and expecting a general attack, we were formed in columnbefore the intrenchment. But the enemy had no stomach for that kind ofwork, and veered off to the south, where they occupied two little hills, whence they could enfilade a portion of our position. We answered theirfire as best we could, but it was cruel, disheartening work. 

"Do you call this war?" asked Peyronie impatiently, after an hour of thisgunnery. "In faith, had I thought 'twould be like this, I had been lesseager to enlist. Why don't the cowards try an assault?"

"Yes, why don't they?" and I looked gloomily at the wall of trees fromwhich jets of smoke and flame puffed incessantly. 

"'Tis not the kind of fighting I've been used to, " cried Peyronie. "InEurope we fight on open ground, where the best man wins; we do not skulkbehind the trees and through the underbrush. I've a good notion to try asally. What say you, Stewart?"

"Here comes Colonel Washington, " I answered. "Let us ask him. " But heshook his head when we proposed it to him. 

"'Twould be madness, " he said. "They are three times our number, andwould pick us all off before we could reach the trees. No, the best wecan do is to remain behind our breastwork. It seems a mean kind ofwarfare, I admit, but 'tis a kind we must get accustomed to, if we areto fight the French and Indians;" and he walked on along his rounds, speaking a word of encouragement here and there, and seemingly quiteunconscious of the bullets which whistled about him. 

Yet the breastwork did not protect us wholly, for now and then a manwould throw up his arms and fall with a single shrill cry, or roll overin the mud of the trench, cursing horribly, with a bullet in himsomewhere. Doctor Craik, who had enlisted as lieutenant, was sooncompelled to lay aside his gun and do what he could to relieve theirsuffering. Not for a moment during the afternoon did the enemy's fireslacken, and the strain began to tell upon our men. The pieces grew foul, there were only two screw-rods in the camp with which to clean them, andas the hours passed, our fire grew less and less. The swivels had longsince been abandoned, for the gunners were picked off so soon as theyshowed themselves above the breastwork. 

There had been mutterings of thunder and dashes of rain all theafternoon, and now the storm broke in earnest, the rain falling in suchfury as I had never seen. The trenches filled with water, and we tried invain to keep dry the powder in our cartouch boxes. Not only was this wet, but the rain leaked through the magazine we had built in the middle ofthe camp, and ruined the ammunition we had stored there. So soon as therain slackened, the enemy resumed their fire, but Major Washingtonforbade us to reply, since there was scarce a dozen rounds in the fort. I confess that this species of fighting took the heart out of me, and Icould see no chance of a successful issue. 

I was sitting thus, looking gloomily out at the forest in front of me, and wondering why the fire from there had ceased, when I noticed thatthere seemed to be many more rocks and bushes scattered about the plainthan I had ever before observed. The gloom of the evening had fallen, andI rubbed my eyes and looked again to make sure I was not mistaken. No, there was no mistake, and I suddenly understood what was about to happen. 

"Peyronie, " I whispered to my neighbor, who was sitting in the mud, swearing softly under his mustache, "we are going to have some excitementpresently. The Indians are creeping up to carry us by assault. "

"What?" he exclaimed, sitting suddenly upright. "Oh, no such luck!"

"Yes, but they are, " I insisted. "Watch those bushes out there. See, they're moving up toward us. "

He rose to his knees and peered keenly out through the gloom. 

"Pardieu, " he muttered after a moment, "so they are! Well, we shall beready for them. "

We passed the word around to our men, and startled them into new life. The muskets were primed sparingly with dry powder, and we waited withtense nerves for the assault. The fusillade from the hills had beenredoubled, but a terrible and threatening silence hung over theintrenchment, and doubtless encouraged our assailants to believe that ourammunition was quite gone. Near and nearer crept the Indians, fifty orsixty of them at least, and perhaps many more, and we lay still withbursting pulses and waited. Now the foremost of them was scarce fortyyards away, and suddenly, with a yell, they were all upon their feet andcharging us. 

"Tirez, tirez!" shouted Peyronie, forgetting his English in hisexcitement, and we sent a volley full into them. It was a warmerreception than they had counted on, and they wavered for a moment, butthere must have been a Frenchman leading them, for they rallied, and cameon again with a rush. We met them with fixed bayonets, but theyoutnumbered us so greatly that we must have given way before them had notColonel Washington, hearing the uproar and guessing its meaning, dashedover at the head of reinforcements and given them another volley. As Iwas reloading with feverish haste, I saw an Indian rush at ColonelWashington with raised tomahawk. Washington raised his pistol, coollytook aim, and pulled the trigger, but the powder flashed and did notexplode. With the sweat starting from my forehead, I dashed some powderinto the pan of my pistol, jerked it up, and fired. Ah, Captain Paul, howI blessed your lessons in that moment! for the ball went true, and theIndian rolled in the mud almost at Washington's feet. They had hadenough, and those who were still alive leaped the trench and disappearedinto the outer darkness. 

"They won't try that again, " I remarked to Peyronie, who was sittingagainst the breastwork. "But what is it, man? Are you wounded?" I cried, seeing that he was very pale and held both hands to his breast. 

"Yes, I am hit here, " he answered, and added, as I fell on my kneesbeside him and began to tear the clothing from the wound, "but do notdistress yourself, Stewart. I can be attended after the battle is won. "

"Nonsense, " I said. "You shall be attended at once. " He smiled up at me, and then went suddenly white and fell against my shoulder. I tore awayhis shirt, and saw that blood was welling from a wound in the breast. Ipropped him against the wall, and ordering one of the men to go forDoctor Craik, stanched the blood as well as I could. The doctor hastenedto us so soon as he could leave his other wounded, but he shook his headgravely when he saw Peyronie's injury. 

"A bad case, " he said. "Clear into the lungs, I think. But I have seenmen recover of worse hurts, " he added, seeing how pale I was. 

I watched him as he bound up the wound with deft fingers, and thenbetween us we carried him to the little cabin, which had been convertedfrom magazine to hospital, and was already crowded from wall to wall. Itwas with a sore heart that I left him and returned to the breastwork, forI had come to love Peyronie dearly. The event was not so serious as Ithen feared, for, after a gallant fight for life, he won the battle, recovered of his wound, and lived to do service in another war. 

The repulse of the Indians seemed to have disheartened the enemy, fortheir fire slackened until only a shot now and then broke the stillnessof the night. Our condition was desperate as it could well be, yet Iheard no word of surrender. I was sitting listlessly, thinking ofPeyronie's wound, when a whisper ran along the lines that the French weresending a flag of truce. Sure enough, we could see a man in white uniformapproaching the breastwork, waving a white flag above his head. He washalted by the sentries while yet some distance off, and ColonelWashington sent for. He appeared in a moment. 

"Where is Lieutenant Peyronie?" he asked. "We will have need of him. "

"He is wounded, sir, " I answered. "He was shot through the breast duringthe assault. "

Washington glanced about at the circle of faces. 

"Is there any other here who speaks French?" he asked. 

There was a moment's silence. 

"Why, sir, " said Vanbraam at last, "I have managed to pick up the fagends of a good many languages during my life, and I can jabber Frencha little. "

"Very well, " and Washington motioned him forward. "Mount the breastworkand ask this fellow what he wants. "

Vanbraam did as he was bid, and there was a moment's high-tonedconversation between him and the Frenchman. 

"He says, sir, " said Vanbraam, "that he has been sent by his commander, M. Coulon-Villiers, to propose a parley. "

Washington looked at him keenly. 

"And he wishes to enter the fort?"

"He says he wishes to see you, sir. "

Washington glanced about at the mud-filled trenches, the ragged, wearymen, the haggard faces of the officers, the dead scattered here and therealong the breastwork, and his face grew stern. 

"'Tis a trick!" he cried. "He wishes to see how we are situated. Tell himthat we do not care to parley, but are well prepared to defend ourselvesagainst any force the French can muster. "

I gasped at the audacity of the man, and the Frenchman was doubtless noless astonished. He disappeared into the forest, but half an hour lateragain approached the fort. Vanbraam's services as interpreter were calledfor a second time, and there was a longer parley between him and themessenger. 

"He proposes, " said Vanbraam, when the talk was finished, "that we sendtwo officers to meet two French officers, for the purpose of agreeingupon articles of capitulation. M. Coulon-Villiers states that he isprepared to make many concessions, and he believes this course will befor the advantage of both parties. "

Washington looked around at the officers grouped about him. 

"It is clear that we must endeavor to make terms, gentlemen, " he said. "The morning will disclose our plight to the enemy, and it will then beno longer a question of terms, but of surrender. At present they believeus capable of defense, hence they talk of concessions. What say you, gentlemen?"

There was nothing to be said except to agree, and Vanbraam and CaptainStephen were sent out to confer with the French. They returned in thecourse of an hour, bringing with them the articles already signed byCoulon-Villiers, and awaiting only Colonel Washington's ratification. Vanbraam read them aloud by the light of a flickering candle, and welistened in silence until he had finished. They were better than we couldhave hoped, providing that we should march out at daybreak with all thehonors of war, drums beating, flags flying, and match lighted for ourcannon; that we should take with us our baggage, be protected from theIndians, and be permitted to retire unmolested to Virginia, in return forwhich we were to release all the prisoners we had taken a few daysbefore, and as they were already on their way to the colony, should leavetwo officers with the French as hostages until the prisoners had beendelivered to them. 

There was a moment's silence when Vanbraam had finished reading, andthen, without raising his head, Colonel Washington signed, and threw thepen far from him. Then he arose and walked slowly to his quarters, and Isaw him no more that night. Captain Mackay insisted also that he mustsign the paper, and, to my intense disgust, wrote his name in above thatof our commander. 

There was little sleep for any of us that night, and I almost enviedPeyronie tossing on his blanket, oblivious to what was passing about him. Vanbraam and Robert Stobo were appointed to accompany the French back tothe Ohio, to remain there as hostages, and we all shook hands with thembefore they went away through the darkness toward the French camp. 

But the night passed, and at daybreak we abandoned the fort and began theretreat, carrying our sick and wounded on our backs, since the Indianshad killed all our horses. Most of our baggage was perforce left behind, and the Indians lost no time in looting it. That done, they pressedthreateningly upon our rear, so that an attack seemed imminent, nor didthe French make any effort to restrain them; but we held firm, and theIndians finally drew off and returned to the fort, leaving us to cover asbest we might those weary miles over the mountains. By the promise of tenpistoles, I had secured two men to bear Peyronie between them on ablanket, but 'twas impossible to treat all the wounded so, and thefainting men staggered along under their screaming burdens, fallingsometimes, and lying where they fell from sheer exhaustion. 

What Colonel Washington's feelings were I could only guess. He strode atthe head of the column, his head bowed on his breast, his heart doubtlesstorn by the suffering about him, and saying not a word for hourstogether, nor did any venture to approach him. I doubt if ever in hislife he will be called upon to pass through a darker hour than he did onthat morning of the fourth of July, 1754. Through no fault of his, thepower of England on the Ohio had been dealt a staggering blow, and hispride and ambition crushed into the dust. 

What need to tell of that weary march back to the settlements, thesuffering by the way, the sorry reception accorded us, the consternationcaused by the news of French success? At Winchester we met two companiesfrom North Carolina which had been marching to join us, and these wereordered to Will's Creek, to establish a post to protect the frontier fromthe expected Indian aggression. Captain Mackay and his men remained atWinchester, while our regiment returned to Alexandria to rest andrecruit. As for me, I was glad enough to put off the harness of war andmake the best of my way back to Riverview, saddened and humbled by thisfirst experience, which was so different from the warfare of which I hadread and dreamed, with its bright pageantry, its charges and shock ofarms, its feats of single combat. Fate willed that I was yet to seeanother, trained on the battlefields of Europe, humbled in the dust bythese foes whom I found so despicable, and the soldiers of the kingtaught a lesson they were never to forget. 

One word more. Perhaps I have been unjust to Captain Mackay and his men. Time has done much to soften the bitterness with which their conductfilled me, and as I look back now across the score of years that liebetween, I can appreciate to some degree their attitude toward ourcommander. Certainly it might seem a dangerous thing to intrust anenterprise of such moment to a youth of twenty-two, with no knowledge ofwarfare but that he had gained from books. It is perhaps not wonderfulthat veterans should have looked at him askance, and I would not think ofthem too harshly. He doubtless made mistakes, --as what man would nothave done?--yet I believe that not even the first captain of the empirecould have snatched victory from odds so desperate. 

CHAPTER XI

DREAM DAYS AT RIVERVIEW

In the many summer evenings which followed, I played the part of thatbroken soldier, who, as Mr. Goldsmith tells us so delightfully, "talked the night away, Wept o'er his wounds, or, tales of sorrow done, Shouldered his crutch and showed how fields were won. "

Alas, I could show not how they were won, but only how they were lost, and how was one to clothe in romance a battle which had been fought inthe midst of mud and rain, from behind a breastwork, and with scarce aglimpse of the enemy? But I had a rapt audience of two in James andDorothy. They were not critical, and I told the story of Great Meadowsover and over again, a score of times. 

A hundred yards from the house, overlooking on one side the willow-drapedwaters of Occoquan Inlet, and on the other the broad and placid river, aseat had been fashioned between two massive oaks, and here, of anevening, it was our wont to go. Sometimes, by great good fortune, Jamesdid not accompany us, and Dorothy and I would sit there alone togetherand watch the shadows deepen across the water. Our talk would falter anddie away before the beauty of the scene, and there would be longsilences, broken only now and then by a half whispered sentence. I hadnever known a sweeter time, and even yet, when night is coming on, I loveto steal forth to sit there again and gaze across the water and dreamupon the past. 

During the day, I saw but little of the other members of the family, andwas left greatly to my own resources. My aunt was ever busy with themanagement of the estate, to every detail of which she gave personalattention, and which she administered with a thrift and thoroughness Icould not but admire. The worry of incessant business left its mark uponher. The lines in her face deepened, and the silver in her hair grew morepronounced, but though she doubtless felt her strength failing, she clunggrimly to the work. I would have offered to assist her but that I knewshe would resent the suggestion, and would believe I made it to gain someknowledge of the income from the estate, of which I had always been keptin densest ignorance, and with which, indeed, I troubled myself butlittle. I think her old fear of my claiming the place came on her again, and though she always tried to treat me civilly, the effort in the endproved too great for her overwrought nerves, as you shall presently hear. 

Upon Dorothy fell the duty of looking after the household, and she wentabout it cheerfully and willingly. Her mornings were passed ininstructing the servants in their duties and seeing that their work wasproperly done. There were visits to the pantry and kitchen, and a longconference with the cook, so that noon was soon at hand. The afternoonwas spent in the great workroom on the upper floor, into which I venturedto peep once or twice, only to be bidden to go about my business. But itwas a pleasant sight, and I sometimes gathered courage to steal down thecorridor for a glimpse of it. There sat Dorothy in a dainty gown ofCovent Garden calico, directing half a dozen old negro women, who werecutting out and sewing together the winter clothing of fearnaught for theslaves. Two or three girls had been brought in to be taught the mysteriesof needle-craft, and Dorothy turned to them from time to time to watchtheir work and direct their rebellious fingers. I would fain have taken alesson, too, but when I proposed this one day, representing how great myneed might be when I was over the mountains far away from any woman, Dorothy informed me sternly, amid the titters of the others, that myfingers were too big and clumsy to be taught to manage so delicate aninstrument as a needle, and sent me from the room. 

Young James had also much to occupy his time. His mother was as yet indoubt whether he should complete his education at William and Mary, as Ihad done, or should be sent to London to acquire the true polish. The boygreatly favored the latter course, as any boy of spirit would have done, and his mother would have yielded to him readily, but for the stories shehad heard of the riotous living which prevailed among the young blades inLondon, and of which she had had ample confirmation from Parson Scott, who, I suspect, before coming to his estate at Westwood, had ruffled itwith the best of them. Whether it should be Williamsburg or London, theboy was required to be kept at his books every morning, and was off everyafternoon to the Dumfries tavern, where there was always a crowd ofne'er-do-wells, promoting a cock-fight, or a horse race, or eye-gougingcontest. Sometimes, he elected to spend the evening in this company, andit was then that Dorothy and I were left alone together on the seatbeside the river. 

But when Sunday came, there was another story. The great coach wasbrought from the stable and polished till it shone again, --indeed, it hadbeen polished so often and so vigorously that its gilding and paint beganto show the marks of it. The four horses were led out, rubbed down fromnose to heel, and harnessed in their brightest trappings. The driver, footman, and two outriders donned their liveries, in which they were theenvy of all the other servants, and the coach was driven around to thefront of the house, from which presently emerged Madame Stewart, in astately gown of flowered calamanco, her fan and gold pomander in herhand. Then came Dorothy, her sweet face looking most coquettish under herRanelagh mob of gauze, the ribbons crossed beneath her chin andfluttering half a yard behind. As she tripped down the stops and liftedher tiffany petticoat ever so little, I could catch a glimpse of theprettiest pair of ankles in the world in silk-clocked hose, for thereader can guess without my telling that I was close behind, holding herkerchief or her fan or her silver �tui until she should be safely seatedin the coach. And that once done, the whip cracked, the wheels started, and I swung myself on horseback and trotted along beside the window, onDorothy's side, you may be sure. 

So, in great state, we proceeded to the new Quantico church nearDumfries, a prodigious fine structure of brick, built the year before ata cost of a hundred thousand weight of tobacco, of which my aunt hadcontributed a tenth. The other members of the congregation awaited ourarrival, grouped before the door, and, entering after us, remaineddecently standing till we had mounted to the loft and taken our seats, ashow of deference which greatly pleased my aunt. The church was built ina little recess from the road, in the midst of a grove of ancient trees, cruciform, as so many others were throughout the colony, and stands todayjust as it stood then, --as I have good cause to know, for 't was in thatchurch, before that altar--But there, you shall learn it all in time. 

Doctor Scott was a goodly preacher, but the one portion of the servicefor me was the singing, when I might stand beside Dorothy and listen toher voice. She sang with whole heart and undivided mind, recking nothingof me standing spellbound there. Indeed, I think the pastor shrewdly sawthat her singing was a means of grace no less than his expounding, and henever failed to journey to Riverview on a Friday to talk over with herwhat should be her part in the service on the coming Sunday. Nor did Iever know her to refuse this labor, --not because she was vain of herpower, but because she saw the good it did. 

The service once over, there were greetings to exchange, the news of theneighborhood to talk over, crops to discuss, and what not. My heart wouldburn within me as I saw the men buzzing about Dorothy like flies about adish of honey, though my jealousy was lightened when I saw that while shehad a gay word for each of them, she smiled on all alike. The minx couldread my mind like an open book, whether I was moping in one corner of thechurchyard or on the bench beside her, and she loved to tease me bypretending great admiration for this man or that, and consulting me abouthim as she would have done a brother. Which, I need hardly say, annoyedme vastly. 

The gossip over, we drove home again to lunch, after which, on the wideveranda or the bench by the river's edge, I would read Dorothy some bitsof Mr. Addison or Mr. Pope, which latter she could not abide, though hispungent verses fell in exceeding well with my melancholy humor. Eveningpast and bedtime come, I lighted Dorothy's candle for her at the table inthe lower hall, where the silver sticks were set out in their nightlyarray like French soldiers, gleaming all in white, and when I gave it toher and bade her good-night at the stair-foot, I got her hand to hold foran instant. Then to my room, where over innumerable pipes ofsweet-scented, I struggled with some halting verses of my own until mycandle guttered in its stick. 

Hours and hours did I pass thinking how I might tell her of my love, butat the last I concluded it were better to say nothing, until I hadsomething more to offer her. What right had I, I questioned bitterly, tooffer marriage to any maid, when I had no home to which to take a wife, and I had never felt the irksomeness of my circumstances as I did at thatmoment. Something of my thought she must have understood, for she wasvery kind to me, and never by any word or act showed that she thought ofthe poverty of my condition. 

So August and September passed, and great events were stirring. The Houseof Burgesses had met, and had been much impressed by the showing we hadmade against the French, so that they passed a vote of thanks to ColonelWashington for his distinguished services, and to the officers and menwho had been with him. Dinwiddie was most eager that another advanceshould be made at once against Duquesne, but Colonel Washington pointedout how hopeless any such attempt must be against the overwhelming oddsthe enemy would bring against us. 

The news of French aggression on the Ohio and of our defeat at FortNecessity had opened the eyes of the court to the danger which threatenedthe colonies, and great preparations were set on foot for an expeditionto be sent to Virginia in the early spring. Parliament voted �50, 000toward its expenses, and it was proposed to equip it on such a scalethat the French could not hope to stand before it. So it was decided thatnothing more should be attempted by the colony until the forces fromEngland had arrived. And then, one day, came the astounding news thatColonel Washington had resigned from the service and returned to MountVernon. A negro whom Dorothy had sent on some errand to Betty Washingtonhad brought the news back with him. I could scarcely credit it, and wassoon galloping toward Mount Vernon to confirm it for myself. I dare saythe ten miles of river road were never more quickly covered. As I turnedinto the broad graveled way which led past the garden up to the house, Isaw a tall and well-known figure standing before the door, and he cametoward me with a smile as I threw myself from the saddle. 

"Ah, Tom, " he cried, "I thought I should see you soon, " and he took myhand warmly. 

"Is it true, " I asked, too anxious to delay an instant the solution ofthe mystery, "that you have left the service?"

"Yes, it is true. "

"And you will not make the campaign?"

"I see no prospect now of doing so. "

"But why?" I asked. "Pardon me, if I am indiscreet. "

"'Tis a reason which all may know, " and he smiled grimly, "which, indeed, I wish all to know, that my action may not be misjudged. "

We were walking up and down before the door, and he paused a moment asthough to choose his words, lest he say more than he desired. 

"You know there has been great unpleasantness, " he said at last, "betweenofficers holding royal commissions and those holding provincial ones, concerning the matter of precedence. You may remember that Captain Mackayheld himself my superior at Fort Necessity, because he had his commissionfrom the crown. "

Of course I remembered it, as well as the many disagreements which thecontention had occasioned. 

"It was evident that the question must be settled one way or another, "continued Washington, "and to do this, an order has just been issued bythe governor. The order provides that no officer who does not derive hiscommission immediately from the king can command one who does. "

It was some minutes before I understood the full effect which such anorder would have. 

"Do you mean, " I asked at last, "that you would be outranked by everysubaltern in the service who holds a royal commission?"

"Unquestionably, " and Washington looked away across the fields with astern face. 

"But that is an outrage!" I cried. "What, every whippersnapper in theline be your superior? Why, it's rank folly!"

"So I thought, " said Washington, "and therefore I resigned, and refusedto serve under such conditions. "

"And you did right, " I said warmly. "You could have taken no othercourse. "

But much pressure was brought to bear upon him to get him back into theservice. General Sharpe was most anxious to secure the services of thebest fighter and most experienced soldier in Virginia, and urged him toaccept a company of the Virginia troops; but he replied shortly that, though strongly bent to arms, he had no inclination to hold a commissionto which neither rank nor emolument attached. And that remained hisanswer to all like importunities. Whereat the authorities were greatlywroth at him, from Governor Dinwiddie down, and seeking how they mightwound him further, cut from the rolls the names of half a dozen officerswhom they knew to be his friends. I was one of those who got a discharge, the reason alleged in my case being that the companies had been soreduced in number that there was not need of so many officers. It was aheavy blow to me, I admit, and I think for a time Washington wavered inhis purpose; but his friends, of whom many now came to Mount Vernon, persuaded him to remain firm in his resolution, confident that when thecommander-in-chief arrived and learned how matters stood, he would makeevery reparation in his power. At the bottom of the entire trouble was, Ithink, Dinwiddie's jealousy of Washington's growing popularity andinfluence, a jealousy which had been roused by every man who had comeinto great favor with the people since Dinwiddie had beenlieutenant-governor of Virginia. 

During the months that followed I was much at Mount Vernon. Indeed, itwas during that winter that we formed the warm attachment which stillcontinues. The family life there attracted me greatly, and I cannotsufficiently express my admiration for Mrs. Washington. She was slightand delicate of figure, but not even her eldest son, who towered aboveher, possessed a greater dignity or grace. I loved to sit at one cornerof the great fireplace and see her eyes kindle with pride and affectionas she gazed at him, nor did her other children love him less than she. 

With the new year came renewed reports of activity in England. Tworegiments under command of Major-General Braddock were to be sent toVirginia, whence, after being enforced by provincial levies, they were tomarch against the French. I need not say how both Colonel Washington andmyself chafed at the thought that we were not to make the campaign; butwhen he suggested accepting a commission as captain of the provincialtroops, his friends protested so against it that he finally abandoned theidea for good and all, and we settled down to bear the inactivity as bestwe could. But at last the summons came. 

It was Colonel Washington's twenty-third birthday, and there was quite acelebration at Mount Vernon. The members of the family were all there, aswere Dorothy, her brother, and myself, as well as many other friends fromfarther down the neck. Dinner was served in the long, low-ceilingeddining-room, with the wide fireplace in one corner. What a meal it was, with Mrs. Washington at the table-head and her son at the foot, yes, andDorothy there beside me with the brightest of bright eyes! I was ever agood trencherman, and never did venison, wild turkey, and great yellowsweet potatoes taste more savorsome than they did that day, with a jar ofMrs. Washington's marmalade for relish. At the end came Pompey with agreat steaming bowl of flip, and as the mugs were filled and passed fromhand to hand, Dorothy and Betty Washington plunged in the red-hot ironswith great hissing and sizzle and an aroma most delicious. We pledged ourhost, the ladies sipping from our cups--need I say who from mine?--withlittle startled cries of agitation when the liquor stung them. Then theyleft us to our pipes; but before the smoke was fairly started, there camethe gallop of a horse up the roadway past the kitchen garden, and amoment later the great brass knocker was plied by a vigorous hand. We satin mute expectancy, and presently old Pompey thrust in his head. 

"Gen'leman t' see you, sah, " he said to Colonel Washington. 

"Show him in here, Pomp, " said the colonel; and a moment later one ofthe governor's messengers entered, booted and spurred, his clothingsplashed with mud. 

"I have a message for you from the governor, Colonel Washington, " hesaid, saluting, and holding out a letter bearing the governor'sgreat seal. 

Washington took it without a trace of emotion, though I doubt not hisheart was beating as madly as my own. 

"Sit down, sir, " he said heartily to the messenger, "and taste ourpunch. I am sure you will find it excellent;" and when he had seen himseated and served, he turned away to the window and opened the letter. I watched him eagerly as he read it, and saw a slow flush steal intohis cheeks. 

"There is nothing here I may not tell, gentlemen, " he said after amoment, turning back to the group about the table. "Governor Dinwiddiewrites me that General Braddock and the first of the transports havearrived safely off Hampton, and that he desires me to meet him inWilliamsburg as soon as possible, as he thinks my knowledge of thecountry may be of some value. I shall start in the morning, " he added, turning to the messenger. "I trust you will remain and be our guesttill then. "

"Gladly, " answered the man, "and ride back with you. " So it was settled. 

We were not long away from the women after that, for they must hear thegreat news. Colonel Washington refused to speculate about it, but I wascertain he was to be proffered some employment in the coming campaigncommensurate with his merit. The afternoon passed all too quickly, andthe moment came for us to start back to Riverview. Dorothy ran upstairsto don her safeguard, the horses were brought out, and James and Istruggled into our coats. Dorothy was back in a moment, kissed Mrs. Washington and Betty, and I helped her adjust her mask and lifted her tothe saddle. I felt my cheeks burning as I turned to bid good-by toColonel Washington, who had followed us from the house. 

"If it should be an appointment, " I began, as I grasped his hand. 

"You maybe sure I shall not forget you, Tom, " he said, smiling down intomy eager face. "I think it very likely that we shall march together tofight the French. "

And those last words rang in my ears all the way back to Riverview. 

CHAPTER XII

DOROTHY MAKES HER CHOICE

I had been much from home during the winter, and, engrossed in my ownthoughts, had taken small account of what was passing, but I soon foundenough to occupy me. Dorothy had spent a month at Mount Pleasant, theseat of the Lees, some distance down the river, and when she returned, Isoon began to suspect that she had left her heart there; for one daythere came riding up to Riverview Mr. Willoughby Newton, whose estate wasnear Mount Pleasant, and the way that Dorothy blushed when she welcomedhim aroused my ire at once. Now Mr. Willoughby Newton was a very handsomeand proper gentleman, and on his broad acres grew some of the sweetesttobacco that ever left Virginia; but I could scarce treat him civilly, which only shows what an insufferable puppy I still was, and I mademyself most miserable. His learning was more of the court and camp thanof the bookshelf, --a defect which I soon discovered, --and I loved to sethim tripping over some quibble of words, a proceeding which amused mevastly, though my mirth was shared by none of the others who witnessedit. In fact, Madame Stewart was partial to the man from the first, inwhich I do not blame her, for a better match could not have been desiredfor her daughter. She made him see his welcome, and he doubtless thoughtthe road to Dorothy's heart a fair and easy one. I certainly thought so, and I spent my days in moping about the place, cutting a most melancholyand unattractive figure. 

I can look back now with a smile upon those days, realizing what aridiculous sight I must have been, but at the time, their tragedy was forme a very real and living one. Newton had passed some years in London, and had picked up there the graces of the court, as well as much of itsfrippery gossip, which latter he was fond of retailing, to my greatdisgust, but to the vast entertainment of the ladies, who found no faultwith it, though it was four or five years old. He could tell a story welland turn a joke to a nicety, --a fact which I was at that time far fromadmitting, --and under other circumstances I should have found him a wittyand amusing friend. I think he soon saw what my feelings were, --indeed, even a more obtuse man would have had no difficulty in understandingthem, --and he treated me with a good-humored condescension whichirritated me beyond measure. And yet, unquestionably, it was the onlytreatment my behavior merited. 

The climax came one evening after dinner. We had both, perhaps, had aglass of wine too much before we joined the ladies. Certainly, no wordshad passed between us when they had left the table, and there was nothingto do but drink, which we did with moody perseverance. But once beforethe fire in the great hall, with Madame Stewart knitting on one side andDorothy bending over her tambour on the other, his mood changed and hegrew talkative enough, while I sat down near the candles and pretended tobe absorbed in a book. 

"Do you know, ladies, " he said, "this reminds me of nothing so much as anight in London just five years ago, when the great earthquake was. Wewere sitting around the fire, just as we are siting now, Tommy Collier onmy right, and Harry Sibley on my left, when the bottles on the tablebegan to clink and the windows to rattle, and poor Harry, who was leaningback in his chair, crashed over backwards to the floor. We picked him upand went out into the street, where there was confusion worse confounded. Windows were thrown open, women were running up and down clad only intheir smocks, and one fellow had mounted a barrel and was calling on thepeople to repent because the Day of Judgment was at hand. Somebodypredicted there would be another earthquake in a week, and so the nextday the people began to pour out of town, not because they werefrightened, but 'Lord, the weather is so fine, ' they said, 'one can'thelp going into the country. '"

"You found the country very pleasant, Mr. Newton, I dare say, " Iremarked, looking up from my book. He did not at once understand themeaning of my question, but Dorothy did, and flushed crimson withanger. The sight of her disapproval and Madame Stewart's frowning facemaddened me. 

"No, " he said slowly, after a moment, "I did not leave the city, buthundreds of people did. Within three days, over seven hundred coacheswere counted passing Hyde Park corner, with whole families going to thecountry. The clergy preached that it was judgment on London for itswickedness, and that the next earthquake would swallow up the whole town. The ridotto had to be put off because there was no one to attend it, andthe women who remained in town spent their time between readingSherlock's sermons and making earthquake gowns, in which they proposed tosit out of doors all night. "

"Pray, what was the color of your gown, Mr. Newton?" I inquired, with apolite show of interest. 

Newton rose slowly from his chair and came toward me. 

"Am I to understand that you mean to insult me, sir?" he asked, when hehad got quite near. 

"You are to understand whatever you please, " I answered hotly, throwingmy book upon the table. 

"Tom, " cried Dorothy, "for shame, sir! Have you taken leave ofyour senses?"

"Do not be frightened, I beg of you, Miss Randolph, " interrupted Newton, restraining her with one hand. "I assure you that I have no intention ofinjuring the boy. "

"Injuring me, indeed!" I cried, springing to my feet, furious with rage, for I could not bear to be patronized. "It is you who are insulting, andby God you shall answer for it!"

"As you will, " he said, with a light laugh, and turned back to the fire. 

I knew that I had got all the worst of the encounter, that I had behavedwith a rudeness for which there was no excuse, and that I cut a sorryfigure standing there, and my face burned at the knowledge. Butpreserving what semblance of dignity I could, I stalked from the hall andupstairs to my room. I sat a long time thinking over the occurrence, andthe more I pondered it, the more clearly I saw that I had played thefool. I did not know then, but I learned long afterward, that my conductthat night came near losing me the great happiness of my life. My cheeksflush even now as I think of my behavior. How foolish do the tragedies ofyouth appear, once time has tamed the blood!

I did not wonder in the morning to receive a summons from my aunt, and Ifound her in her accustomed chair before the table piled with papers. Sheglanced at me coldly as I entered, and finished looking over a paper sheheld in her hand before she spoke to me. 

"I need not tell you, " she said at length, "how greatly your boorishconduct of last night surprised me. To insult a guest, and especially todo so without provocation, is not the part of a gentleman. "

I flushed angrily, for the justness of this statement only irritated methe more. I think it is always the man who is in the wrong that shows thegreatest violence, and the man that most deserves rebuke who is mostimpatient of it. 

"There is no need for you to counsel me how a gentleman should behave, "I answered hotly. 

"I did not summon you here to counsel you, " she said still more coldly, "but to inform you that this disgraceful affair is to go no further, atleast beneath this roof. Mr. Newton has promised me to overlook yourbehavior, which is most generous on his part, and I trust you will seethe wisdom of making peace with him. "

"And why, may I ask, madame?"

"Because, " she said, looking me in the eyes, "it is most likely that hewill marry my daughter, and nothing is more vulgar than a family whosemembers are forever quarreling. "

I clenched my hands until the nails pierced the flesh. She had hit me ahard blow, and she knew it. 

"And what does Dorothy think of this arrangement?" I asked, with as greatcomposure as I could muster. 

She smiled with a calm assurance which made my heart sink. "Dorothy wouldbe a fool not to accept him, for he is one of the most eligible gentlemenin Virginia. Indeed, perhaps she has already done so, for I gave himleave to speak to her this morning, " and she smiled again as she noted mytrembling hands, which I tried in vain to steady. "You seem muchinterested in the matter. "

I turned from her without replying, --I could trust myself no further. Notthat I blamed her for hating me, --for she loved her son and I was theshadow across his path, --but she was pressing me further than I hadcounted on. I snatched up my hat as I ran along the hall and out thegreat door toward the river. Spring was coming, the trees were shakingout their foliage, along the river the wild flowers were beginning toshow their tiny faces, but I saw none of these as I broke my way throughthe brush along the water's edge, --for perhaps even now he was askingDorothy to be his wife, and she was yielding to him. The thought maddenedme, --yet why should she do otherwise? What claim had I upon her? And yetI had builded such a different future for her and me. 

I had walked I know not how long when I came out suddenly upon the roadwhich wound along the bank and finally dipped to the ferry, and here Isat down upon a log to think. If Dorothy accepted him, I could no longerstay at Riverview. I must go away to Williamsburg and seek employment inthe campaign, if only as a ranger. It must soon commence, and surelythey would not refuse me in the ranks. As I sat absorbed in bitterthought, I heard the sound of hoof beats up the road and saw a horsemancoming. I drew back behind a tree, for I was in no mood to talk to anyone, and gloomily watched him as he drew nearer. There seemed somethingstrangely familiar about the figure, and in an instant I recognized him. It was Willoughby Newton. In another moment he had passed, his face apicture of rage and shame. He was riding away from Riverview in anger, and as I realized what that meant, I sprang forward with a great cry ofjoy. He must have heard me, for he turned in the saddle and shook hiswhip at me, and for an instant drew rein as though to stop. But hethought better of it, for he settled again in the saddle, and was soonout of sight down the road. 

I had not waited so long, for settling my hat on my head, I set off upthe road as fast as my legs would carry me. It seemed to me I shouldnever reach the house, and I cursed the folly which had taken me so faraway, but at last I ran up the steps and into the hall. As I entered, Icaught a glimpse of a well-known gown in the hall above, and in aninstant I was up the stairs. 

"Dorothy!" I gasped, seizing one of her hands, "Dorothy, tell me, youhave told him no?"

I must have been a surprising object, covered with dust and breathless, but she leaned toward me and gave me her other hand. 

"Yes, Tom, " she said very softly, "I told him no. I do not love him, Tom, and I could not marry a man I do not love. "

"Oh, Dorothy, " I cried, "if you knew how glad I am! If you knew how Iwas raging along the river at the very thought that he was asking you, and fearing for your reply; for he is a very fine fellow, Dorothy, " andI realized with amazement that all my resentment and anger againstNewton had vanished in an instant. "But when I saw him ride by like amadman, I knew you had said no, and I came back as fast as I could tomake certain. "

Somehow, as I was speaking, I had drawn her toward me, and my arm wasaround her. 

"Can you not guess, dear Dolly, " I whispered "why I was so angry withhim last night? It was because I knew he was going to ask you, and Ifeared that you might say yes. "

I could feel her trembling now, and would have bent and kissed her, butthat she sprang from me with a little frightened cry, and I turned to seeher mother standing in the hall below. 

"So, " she said, mounting the steps with an ominous calmness, "my daughtersees fit to reject the addresses of Mr. Newton and yet receive those ofMr. Stewart. I perceive now why he was so deeply concerned in what I hadto tell him this morning. May I ask, Mr. Stewart, if you consideryourself a good match for my daughter?"

"Good match or not, madame, " I cried, "I love her, and if she will haveme, she shall be my wife!"

"Fine talk!" she sneered. "To what estate will you take her, sir? Onwhat income will you support her? My daughter has been accustomed to agentle life. "

"And if I have no estate to which to take her, " I cried, "if I have noincome by which to support her, remember, madame, that it is from choice, not from necessity!"

I could have bit my tongue the moment the words were out. Her anger hadcarried her further than she intended going, but for my ungenerous retortthere was no excuse. 

"Am I to understand this is a threat?" she asked, very pale, butquite composed. 

"No, it is not a threat, " I answered. "The words were spoken in anger, and I am sorry for them. I have already told you my intentions in thatmatter, and have no purpose to change my mind. I will win myself a nameand an estate, and then I will come back and claim your daughter. Weshall soon both be of age. "

She laughed bitterly. 

"Until that day, then, Mr. Stewart, " she said, "I must ask you to have nofurther intercourse with her. Perhaps at Williamsburg you will find amore congenial lodging while you are making your fortune. "

My blood rushed to my face at the insult, and I could not trust myselfto answer. 

"Come, Dorothy, " she continued, "you will go to your room, " and shepushed her on before her. 

I watched them until they turned into the other corridor, and then wentslowly down the stairs. As I emerged upon the walk before the house, Isaw a negro riding up, whom I recognized as one of Colonel Washington'sservants. Some message for Dorothy from Betty Washington, no doubt, and Iturned moodily back toward the stables to get out my horse, for I wasdetermined to leave the place without delay. But I was arrested by thenegro calling to me. 

"What is it, Sam?" I asked, as he cantered up beside me. 

"Lettah f'um Kuhnal Washin'ton, sah, " he said, and handed me the missive. 

I tore it open with a trembling hand. 

DEAR TOM [it ran], --I have procured you an appointment as lieutenant inCaptain Waggoner's company of Virginia troops, which are to make thecampaign with General Braddock. They are now in barracks at Winchester, where you will join them as soon as possible. 

Your friend, G. WASHINGTON. 

"Sam, " I said, "go back to the kitchen and tell Sukey to fill you up onthe best she's got, " and I turned and ran into the house. I tapped at thedoor of my aunt's room, and her voice bade me enter. 

"I have just received a note from Colonel Washington, " I said, "in whichhe tells me that he has secured me a commission as lieutenant for thecampaign, so I will not need to trespass on your hospitality longer thanto-morrow morning. "

There was a queer gleam in her eyes, which I thought I could read aright. 

"Yes, there are many chances in war, " I said bitterly, "and I am as likeas another to fall. "

"I am not quite so bloodthirsty as you seem to think, " she answeredcoldly, "and perhaps a moment ago I spoke more harshly than I intended. Everything you need for the journey you will please ask for. I wish youevery success. "

"Thank you, " I said, and left the room. My pack was soon made, for I hadseen enough of frontier fighting to know no extra baggage would bepermitted, and then I roamed up and down the house in hope of seeingDorothy. But she was nowhere visible, and at last I gave up the searchand went to bed. 

I was up long before daylight, donned my old uniform, saw my horse fedand saddled, ate my breakfast, and was ready to go. I took a last lookaround my room, picked up my pack, and started down the stairs. 

"Tom, " whispered a voice above me, and I looked up and saw her. "Quick, quick, " she whispered, "say good-by. "

"Oh, my love!" I cried, and I drew her lips down to mine. 

"And you will not forget me, Tom?" she said. "I shall pray for you everynight and morning till you come back to me. Good-by. "

"Forget you, Dolly? Nay, that will never be. " And as I rode away throughthe bleak, gray morning, the mist rolling up from hill and riverdisclosed a world of wondrous fairness. 

Which brings me back again to the camp at Winchester, --but what ajourney it has been! As I look back, nothing strikes me so greatly asthe length of the way by which I have come. I had thought that somedozen pages at the most would suffice for my introduction, but memoryhas led my pen along many a by-path, and paused beside a score ofhalf-forgotten landmarks. Well, as it was written, so let it stand, formy heart is in it. 

CHAPTER XIII

LIEUTENANT ALLEN SHOWS HIS SKILL

The days dragged on at Winchester, as days in camp will, and I acceptedno more invitations to mess with the officers of the line. Indeed, Ireceived none, and we provincial officers kept to ourselves. MajorWashington had returned to Mount Vernon, but I found many of my oldfriends with the troops, so had no lack of company. There was CaptainWaggoner, who had got his promotion eight months before, and Peyronie, recovered of his wound and eager for another bout with the French. Healso had been promoted for his gallantry, and now had his own company ofrangers. There was Captain Polson, for whom a tragic fate was waiting, and my old captain, Adam Stephen. And there was Carolus Spiltdorph, advanced to a lieutenancy like myself, and by great good fortune in mycompany. We began to chum together at once, --sharing our blankets andtobacco, --and continued so until the end. 

Another friend I also found in young Harry Marsh, a son of Colonel HenryMarsh, who owned a plantation some eight or ten miles above the Frederickferry, and a cousin of my aunt. Colonel Marsh had stopped one day atRiverview, while on his way home from Hampton, and had made us allpromise to return his visit, but so many affairs had intervened that thepromise had never been kept. The boy, who was scarce nineteen, hadsecured a berth as ensign in Peyronie's company, and he came frequentlywith his captain to our quarters to listen with all his ears to ourstories of the Fort Necessity affair. He was a fresh, wholeheartedfellow, and though he persisted in considering us all as little less thanheroes, was himself heroic as any, as I was in the end to learn. We werea hearty and good-tempered company, and spent our evenings together mostagreeably, discussing the campaign and the various small happenings ofthe camp. But as Spiltdorph shrewdly remarked, we were none of us sosanguinary as we had been a year before. I have since observed that themore a man sees of war, the less his eagerness for blood. 

From Lieutenant Allen I kept aloof as much as possible, and he on hispart took no notice whatever of me. Some rumor of my affair with him hadgot about the camp, but as neither of us would say a word concerning it, it was soon forgot in the press of greater matters. Whatever Allen'spersonal character may have been, it is not to be denied that he laboredwith us faithfully, though profanely, drilling us up and down the camptill we were near fainting in the broiling sun, or exercising us in armsfor hours together, putting us through the same movement a hundred times, till we had done it to his satisfaction. We grumbled of course, amongourselves, but at the end of another fortnight the result of his workbegan to be apparent, and Sir Peter Halket, when he inspected us justbefore starting for Fort Cumberland, as the fortification at Will's Creekwas named, expressed himself well pleased with the progress we had made. 

For the order to advance came at last, and after a two weeks' wearyjourney along the road which had been widened for the passage of wagonsand artillery, we reached our destination and went into quarters there. The barracks were much better appointed than were the ones at Winchester, for this was to be the rendezvous of the entire force, and theindependent companies which Colonel Washington had stationed here theprevious summer had been at work all winter clearing the ground andbuilding the fort. They had cleared a wide space in the forest, and on alittle hill some two hundred yards from Will's Creek and four hundredfrom the Potomac, had erected the stockade. It was near two hundred yardsin length from east to west, and some fifty in width, but rude enough, consisting merely of a row of logs set upright in the ground andprojecting some twelve feet above it, loopholed, and sharpened at thetop. There were embrasures for twelve cannon, ten of which, allfour-pounders, were already mounted. Though frail as it could well be, itwas deemed sufficient to withstand any attack likely to be broughtagainst it. A great two-storied barrack for the officers of the line hadbeen erected within the stockade, and two magazines of heavy timber. Themen were camped about the fort, and half a mile away through the forest ahundred Indians had pitched their wigwams. And here, on the tenth of May, came the Forty-Eighth under Colonel Dunbar, and General Braddock himselfin his great traveling chariot, his staff riding behind and a body oflight horse on either side. We were paraded to welcome him, the drumsrolled out the grenadiers, the seventeen guns prescribed by theregulations were fired, and the campaign was on in earnest. 

The morning of the next day, the general held his first levee in histent, and all the officers called to pay their respects. He was aheavy-set, red-faced man of some sixty years, with long, straight nose, aggressive, pointed chin, and firm-set lips, and though he greeted uscivilly enough, there was a touch of insolence in his manner which hemade small effort to conceal, and which showed that it was not upon theVirginia troops he placed reliance. Still, there was that in hisheavy-featured face and in his bearing which bespoke the soldier, and Iremembered Fontenoy and the record he had made there. In the afternoon, there was a general review, and he rode up and down with his staff infront of the whole force, most gorgeous in gold lace and brilliantaccoutrement. Of the twenty-two hundred men he looked at that day, thenine Virginia companies found least favor in his eyes, for he deemed themlistless and mean-spirited, --an opinion which he was at no pains to keepto himself, and which had the effect of making the bearing of hisofficers toward us even more insulting. 

As we were drawn up there in line, the orders for the camp werepublished, the articles of war were read to us, and in the days thatfollowed there was great show of discipline. But it was only show, forthere was little real order, and even here on the edge of thesettlements, the food was so bad and so scarce that foraging parties weresent to the neighboring plantations to seize what they could find, and ageneral market established in the camp. To encourage the people to bringin provisions, the price was raised a penny a pound, and any person whoventured to interfere with one bringing provisions, or offered to buy ofhim before he reached the public market, was to suffer death. Theseregulations produced some supplies, though very little when compared toour great needs. 

A thing which encouraged me greatly to believe in the sagacity of ourcommander was the pains he took to engage the good offices of theIndians, --such of them, that is, as had not already been hopelesslyestranged by the outrages committed upon them by traders andfrontiersmen. Mr. Croghan, one of the best known of the traders, hadbrought some fifty warriors to the camp, together with their women andchildren, and on the morning of the twelfth, a congress was held at thegeneral's tent to receive them. All the officers were there, and when theIndians were brought, the guard received them with firelocks rested. There was great powwowing and smoking the pipe, and the general gavethem a belt of wampum and many presents, and urged them to take up thehatchet against the French. This they agreed to do, and doubtless wouldhave done, but for the conduct of some of the officers of the line. 

The Indian camp, with its bark wigwams and tall totem pole, had become agreat place of resort with certain of the officers. They had beenattracted first by the dancing and queer customs of the savages, and hadthey come away when once their curiosity was satisfied, little harm hadbeen done. Unfortunately, after looking at the men they looked at thewomen, and found some of them not unattractive. So, for want of somethingbetter to do, they set about debauching them, and succeeded so well thatthe warriors finally took their women away from the camp in disgust, andnever again came near it. Other Indians appeared from time to time, butafter begging all the rum and presents they could get, they left the campand we never saw them again. Many of them were Delawares, doubtless sentas spies by the French. Another visitor was Captain Jack, the BlackRifle, known and feared by the Indians the whole length of the frontier. He had sworn undying vengeance against them, having come home to hiscabin one night to find his wife and children butchered, and had roamedfrom the Carolinas to the Saint Lawrence, leaving a trail of Indian bloodbehind him. He would have made a most useful ally, but he took offense atsome fancied slight, and one day abruptly disappeared in the forest. 

Never during all these weeks did the regulars get over their astonishmentat sight of the tall warriors stalking through the camp, painted in red, yellow, and black, and greased from head to foot, their ears slit, theirheads shaved save for the scalp-lock with its tuft of feathers; nor didthey cease to wonder at their skill in throwing the tomahawk and shootingwith the rifle, a skill of which we were to have abundant proof erelong. 

It was not until four or five days after his arrival with GeneralBraddock that I had opportunity to see Colonel Washington. I met him oneevening as I was returning from guard duty, and I found him looking sopale and dispirited that I was startled. 

"You are not ill?" I cried, as I grasped his hand. 

"Ill rather in spirit than in body, Tom, " he answered, with a smile. "Life in the general's tent is not a happy one. He has met withnothing but vexation, worry, and delay since he has been in thecolony, and I believe he looks upon the country as void of honor andhonesty. I try to show him that he has seen only the darker side, andwe have frequent disputes, which sometimes wax very warm, for he isincapable of arguing without growing angry. Not that I blame himgreatly, " he added, with a sigh, "for the way the colonies have actedin this matter is inexcusable. Wagons, horses, and provisions whichwere promised us are not forthcoming, and without them we are stalledhere beyond hope of advance. "

He passed his hand wearily before his eyes, and we walked some timein silence. 

"'Tis this delay which is ruining our great chance of success, " hecontinued at last. "Could we have reached the fort before the Frenchcould reinforce it, the garrison must have deserted it or surrendered tous. But now they will have time to send whatever force they wish into theOhio valley, and rouse all the Indian tribes for a hundred miles around. For with the Indians, the French have played a wiser part than theEnglish, Tom, and have kept them ever their friends, while to-day we havenot an Indian in the camp. "

"They will return, " I said. "They have all promised to return. "

Washington shook his head. 

"They will not return. Gist knows the Indians as few other white men do, and he assures me that they will not return. "

"Well, " I retorted hotly, "Indians or no Indians, the French cannot hopeto resist successfully an army such as ours. "

For a moment Washington said nothing. 

"You must not think me a croaker, Tom, " and he smiled down at me again, "but indeed I see many chances of failure. Even should we reach FortDuquesne in safety, we will scarce be in condition to besiege it, unlessthe advance is conducted with rare skill and foresight. "

I had nothing to say in answer, for in truth I believed he was lookingtoo much on the dark side, and yet did not like to tell him so. 

"How do you find the general?" I asked. 

"A proud, obstinate, brave man, " he said, "who knows the science of war, perhaps, but who is ill fitted to cope with the difficulties he has methere and has still to meet. His great needs are patience and diplomacyand a knowledge of Indian warfare. I would he had been with us last yearbehind the walls of Fort Necessity. "

"He has good advisers, " I suggested. "Surely you can tell him whatoccurred that day. "

But again Washington shook his head. 

"My advice, such as I have ventured to give him, has been mostly thrownaway. But his two other aides are good men, --Captain Orme and CaptainMorris, --and may yet bring him to reason. The general's secretary, Mr. Shirley, is also an able man, but knows nothing of war. Indeed, heaccepted the position to learn something of the art, but I fancy isdisgusted with what knowledge he has already gained. As to the otherofficers, there is little to say. Some are capable, but most are merelyinsolent and ignorant, and all of them aim rather at displaying their ownabilities than strengthening the hands of the general. In fact, Tom, Ihave regretted a score of times that I ever consented to make thecampaign. "

"But if you had not, where should I have been?" I protested. 

"At least, you had been in no danger from Lieutenant Allen's sword, " helaughed. "I have heard many stories of his skill since I have been incamp, and perhaps it is as well he was in wine that night, and so not athis best. How has he used you since?"

"Why, in truth, " I said, somewhat nettled at his reference to Allen'sskill, "he has not so much as shown that he remembers me. But I shallremind him of our engagement once the campaign is ended, and shall ask mysecond to call upon him. "

Washington laughed again, and I was glad to see that I had taken his mindoff his own affairs. 

"I shall be at your service then, Tom, " he said. "Remember, he is one ofthe best swordsmen in the army, and you will do well to keep in practice. Do not grow over-confident;" and he bade me good-by and turned back tothe general's quarters. 

I thought his advice well given, and the very next day, to my greatdelight, found in Captain Polson's company John Langlade, the man of whomI had taken a dozen lessons at Williamsburg. He was very ready to acceptthe chance to add a few shillings to his pay, so for an hour everymorning we exercised in a little open space behind the stockade. I soonfound with great satisfaction that I could hold my own against him, though he was accounted a good swordsman, and he complimented me morethan once on my strength of wrist and quickness of eye. 

We were hard at it one morning, when I heard some one approaching, and, glancing around, saw that it was Lieutenant Allen. I flushed crimsonwith chagrin, for that he guessed the reason of my diligence with thefoils, I could not doubt. But I continued my play as though I had notseen him, and for some time he stood watching us with a dry smile. 

"Very pretty, " he said at last, as we stopped to breathe. "If all theVirginia troops would spend their mornings to such advantage, I shouldsoon make soldiers of them despite themselves. Rapier play is most usefulwhen one is going to fight the French, who are masters at it. I fear myown arm is growing rusty, " he added carelessly. "Lend me your foil amoment, Lieutenant Stewart. "

I handed it to him without a word, wondering what the man would be at. Hetook it nonchalantly, tested it, and turned to Langlade. 

"Will you cross with me?" he said, and as Langlade nodded, he saluted andthey engaged. Almost before the ring of the first parade had died away, Langlade's foil was flying through the air, and Allen was smiling blandlyinto his astonished face. 

"An accident, I do not doubt, " he said coolly. "Such accidents willhappen sometimes. Will you try again?"

Langlade pressed his lips together, and without replying, picked up hisfoil. I saw him measure Allen with his eye, and then they engaged asecond time. For a few moments, Allen contented himself with standing onthe defensive, parrying Langlade's savage thrusts with a coolness whichnothing could shake and an art that was consummate. Then he bent to theattack, and touched his adversary on breast and arm and thigh, his pointreaching its mark with ease and seeming slowness. 

"Really, I must go, " he said at length. "The bout has done me a world ofgood. I trust you will profit by the lesson, Lieutenant Stewart, " and hehanded me back my foil, smiled full into my eyes, and walked away. 

We both stared after him, until he turned the corner and was out ofsight. 

"He's the devil himself, " gasped Langlade, as our eyes met. "I have neverfelt such a wrist. Did you see how he disarmed me? 'Twas no accident. Myfingers would have broken in an instant more, had I not let go the foil. Who is he?"

"Lieutenant Allen, of the Forty-Fourth, " I answered as carelesslyas I could. 

Langlade fell silent a moment. 

"I have heard of him, " he said at last. "I do not wonder he disarmed me. 'Twas he who met the Comte d'Artois, the finest swordsman in the FrenchGuards, in a little wood on the border of Holland, one morning, over someaffair of honor. They had agreed that it should be to the death. "

"And what was the result?" I questioned, looking out over the camp asthough little interested in the answer. 

"Can you doubt?" asked Langlade. "Allen returned to England without ascratch, and his opponent was carried back to Paris with a sword-thrustthrough his heart, and buried beside his royal relatives at SaintDenis. I pity any man who is called upon to face him. He has need to bea master. "

I nodded gloomily, put up the foils, and returned to my quarters, for Iwas in no mood for further exercise that morning. What Allen had meant byhis last remark I could not doubt. The lesson I was to profit by was thatI should stand no chance against him. 

CHAPTER XIV

I CHANCE UPON A TRAGEDY

As the first weeks of May passed, we slowly got into shape for theadvance, and I began to realize the magnitude of the task before us. Ourmarch to Great Meadows the year before, arduous as it had been, was merechild's play to this, and I did not wonder that on every hand the generalfound himself confronting obstacles well-nigh insurmountable. And eachday, as though to cover other defects, the discipline grew more exacting. Arms were constantly inspected and overhauled; roll was called morning, noon, and night; each regiment attended divine service around the colorsevery Sabbath, though neither officers nor men got much good from it thatI could see; guard mount occurred each morning at eight o'clock; everyman was supplied with twenty-four rounds and extra flints, and also a newshirt, a new pair of stockings and of shoes, and Osnabrig waistcoats andbreeches, the heat making the others insupportable, and with bladders fortheir hats. 

On the sixteenth, Colonel Gage, with two companies of the Forty-Fourthand the last division of the train, toiled into camp, very weary andtravel-stained, and on this day, too, was the first death among theofficers, Captain Bromley, of Sir Peter Halket's, succumbing todysentery. Two days later, we all attended his funeral, and a mostimpressive sight it was. A captain's guard marched before the coffin, their firelocks reversed, and the drums beating the dead march. At thegrave the guard formed on either side, and the coffin, with sword andsash upon it, was carried in between and lowered into place. The servicewas read by Chaplain Hughes, of the Forty-Fourth, the guard fired threevolleys over the grave, and we returned to quarters. 

There was a great demonstration next day to impress some Indians that hadcome into camp. All the guns were fired, and drums and fifes were set tobeating and playing the point-of-war, and then four or five companies ofregulars were put through their manoeuvres. The Indians were vastlyastonished at seeing them move together as one man, and even to usprovincials it was a thrilling and impressive sight. And on the twentiethhappened one of the pleasantest incidents of the whole campaign. 

The great difficulty which confronted our commander from the first wasthe lack of means of transport. Of the three thousand horses and threehundred wagons promised from the colonies, only two hundred horses andtwenty wagons were forthcoming, so that for a time it seemed that theexpedition must be abandoned. Small wonder the general raved and sworeat provincial perfidy and turpitude, the more so when it wasdiscovered that a great part of the provision furnished for the armywas utterly worthless, and the two hundred horses scarce able to standupon their feet. 

Let me say here that I believe this purblind policy of delaying theexpedition instead of freely aiding it had much to do with the result. Virginia did her part with some degree of willingness, but Pennsylvania, whence the general expected to draw a great part of his transport andprovision, would do nothing. The Assembly spent its time bickering withthe governor, and when asked to contribute toward its own defense, madethe astounding statement that "they had rather the French should conquerthem than give up their privileges. " Some of them even asserted thatthere were no French, but that the whole affair was a scheme of thepoliticians, and acted, to use Dinwiddie's words, as though they hadgiven their senses a long holiday. 

Yet, strangely enough, it was from a Pennsylvanian that aid came at last, for just when matters were at their worst and the general in despair, there came to his quarters at Frederick a very famous gentleman, --morefamous still in the troublous times which are upon us now, --Mr. BenjaminFranklin, of Philadelphia, director of posts in the colonies and sometimeprinter of "Poor Richard. " The general received him as his meritwarranted, and explained to him our difficulties. Mr. Franklin, asColonel Washington told me afterward, listened to it all with closeattention, putting in a keen question now and then, and at the end saidhe believed he could secure us horses and wagons from his friends amongthe Pennsylvania Dutch, who were ever ready to turn an honest penny. Sohe wrote them a diplomatic letter, and the result was that, beside near ahundred furnished earlier, there came to us at Cumberland on thetwentieth above eighty wagons, each with four horses, and the generaldeclared Mr. Franklin the only honest man he had met in America. We, too, had cause to remember him, for all the officers were summoned to thegeneral's tent, and there was distributed to each of us a packagecontaining a generous supply of sugar, tea, coffee, chocolate, cheese, butter, wine, spirits, hams, tongues, rice, and raisins, the gift of Mr. Franklin and the Philadelphia Assembly. 

There was high carnival in our tent that night, as you may well believe. We were all there, all who had been present at Fort Necessity, and notsince the campaign opened had we sat down to such a feast. And when theplates were cleared away and only the pipes and wine remained, Peyroniesang us a song in French, and Spiltdorph one in German, and Polson one inGaelic, and old Christopher Gist, who stuck in his head to see what wastoward, was pressed to pay for his entertainment by giving us a Cherokeewar-song, which he did with much fire and spirit. We sat long into thenight talking of the past and of the future, and of the great things wewere going to accomplish. Nor did we forget to draft a letter of mosthearty thanks to Mr. Franklin, which was sent him, together with manyothers, among them one from Sir Peter Halket himself. 

The arrival of the wagons had done much to solve the problem oftransport, and on the next day preparations for the advance began inearnest. The whole force of carpenters was put to work building a bridgeacross the creek, the smiths sharpened the axes, and the bakers baked aprodigious number of little biscuits for us to carry on the march. Twohundred pioneers were sent out to cut the road, and from one end of thecamp to the other was the stir of preparation. 

So two days passed, and on the afternoon of the twenty-fourth, Spiltdorphand myself crossed the creek on the bridge, which was well-nighcompleted, and walked on into the forest to see what progress thepioneers were making. We each took a firelock with us in hope of knockingover some game for supper, to help out our dwindling larder. We foundthat the pioneers had cut a road twelve feet wide some two miles into theforest. It was a mere tunnel between the trees, whose branches overtoppedit with a roof of green, but it had been leveled with great care, --morecare than I thought necessary, --and would give smooth going to the wagonsand artillery. We reached the end of the road, where the axemen werelaboring faithfully, and after watching them for a time, were turningback to camp, when Spiltdorph called my attention to the peculiarappearance of the ground about us. We were in the midst of a grove ofchestnuts, and the leaves beneath them for rods around had been turnedover and the earth freshly raked up. 

"What under heaven could have caused that?" asked Spiltdorph. 

"Wild turkeys, " I answered quickly, for I had often seen the like underbeeches and oaks as well as chestnuts. "Come on, " I added, "perhaps theyare not far away. "

"All right, " said Spiltdorph, "a wild turkey would go exceeding well onour table;" and he followed me into the forest. The turkeys had evidentlybeen frightened away by the approach of the pioneers, and had stoppedhere and there to hunt for food, so that their track was easily followed. I judged they could not be far away, and was looking every moment to seetheir blue heads bobbing about among the underbrush, when I heard a sharpfusilade of shots ahead. 

"Somebody 's found 'em!" I cried. "Come on. Perhaps we can get some yet. "

We tore through a bit of marshy ground, up a slight hill, and camesuddenly to the edge of a little clearing. One glance into it sent meheadlong behind a bush, and I tripped up Spiltdorph beside me. 

"Good God, man!" he cried, but I had my hand over his mouth before hecould say more. 

"Be still, " I whispered "an you value your life. Look over there. "

He peered around the bush and saw what I had seen, a dozen Indians infull war paint busily engaged in setting fire to a log cabin which stoodin the middle of the clearing. They were going about the task in unwontedsilence, doubtless because of the nearness of our troops, and a halfdozen bodies, two of women and four of children, scattered on the groundbefore the door, showed how completely they had done their work. Even aswe looked, two of them picked up the body of one of the women and threwit into the burning house. 

"The devils!" groaned Spiltdorph. "Oh, the devils!" and I felt my ownblood boiling in my veins. 

"Come, we must do something!" I said. "We can kill two of them and reloadand kill two more before they can reach us. They will not dare pursue usfar toward the camp, and may even run at the first fire. "

"Good!" said Spiltdorph, between his teeth. "Pick your man;" but before Icould reply he had jerked his musket to his shoulder with a cry of rageand fired. An Indian had picked up one of the children, which must havebeen only wounded, since it was crying lustily, and was just about topitch it on the fire, when Spiltdorph's bullet caught him full in thebreast. He threw up his hands and fell like a log, the child under him. Quick as a flash, I fired and brought down another. For an instant theIndians stood dazed at the suddenness of the attack, and then with a yellthey broke for the other side of the clearing. Spiltdorph would havestarted down toward the house, but I held him back. 

"Not yet, " I said. "They will stop so soon as they get to cover. Wait a bit. "

We waited for half an hour, watching the smoke curling over the house, and then, judging that the Indians had made off for fear of beingambushed, we crossed the clearing. It took but a glance to read thestory. The women had been washing by the little brook before the cabin, with the children playing about them, when the Indians had come up andwith a single volley killed them all except the child we had heardcrying. They had swooped down upon their victims, torn the scalps fromtheir heads, looted the house, and set fire to it. We dragged out thebody of the woman which had been thrown within, in the hope that a sparkof life might yet remain, but she was quite dead. Beneath the warriorSpiltdorph had shot we found the child. It was a boy of some six or sevenyears, and so covered with blood that it seemed it must be dead. But westripped it and washed it in the brook, and found no wounds upon itexcept in the head, where it had been struck with a hatchet before itsscalp had been stripped off. The cold water brought it back to life andit began to cry again, whereat Spiltdorph took off his coat and wrappedit tenderly about it. 

We washed the blood from the faces of the women and stood for a long timelooking down at them. They were both comely, the younger just at the dawnof womanhood. They must have been talking merrily together, for theirfaces were smiling as they had been in life. 

As I stood looking so, I was startled by a kind of dry sobbing at myelbow, and turned with a jerk to find a man standing there. He wasleaning on his rifle, gazing down at the dead, with no sound but thechoking in his throat. A brace of turkeys over his shoulder showed thathe had been hunting. In an instant I understood. It was the husband andfather come home. He did not move as I looked at him nor raise his eyes, but stood transfixed under his agony. I glanced across at Spiltdorph, andsaw that his eyes were wet and his lips quivering. I did not venture tospeak, but my friend, who was ever more tactful than I, moved to theman's side and placed his hand gently on his shoulder. 

"They died an easy death, " he said softly. "See, they are still smiling. They had no fear, no agony. They were dead before they knew that dangerthreatened. Let us thank God that they suffered no worse. "

The man breathed a long sigh and his strength seemed to go suddenly fromhim, for he dropped his rifle and fell upon his knees. 

"This was my wife, " he whispered. "This was my sister. These were mychildren. What is there left on earth for me?"

I no longer sought to control the working of my face, and the tears werestreaming down Spiltdorph's cheeks. Great, gentle, manly heart, how Iloved you!

"Yes, there is something!" cried the man, and he sprang to his feetand seized his gun. "There is vengeance! Friends, will you help mebury my dead?"

"Yes, we will help, " I said. He brought a spade and hoe from a little hutnear the stream, and we dug a broad and shallow trench and laid thebodies in it. 

"There is one missing, " said the man, looking about him. "Where is he?"

"He is here, " said Spiltdorph, opening his coat. "He is not dead. He mayyet live. "

The father looked at the boy a moment, then fell on his knees andkissed him. 

"Thank God!" he cried, and the tears burst forth. We waited in silenceuntil the storm of grief was past. At last he wrapped the coat about thechild again, and came to us where we stood beside the grave. 

"Friends, " he said, "does either of you know the burial service? Thesewere virtuous and Christian women, and would wish a Christian burial. "

Spiltdorph sadly shook his head, and the man turned to me. Could I do it?I trembled at the thought. Yet how could I refuse?

"I know the service, " I said, and took my place at the head of the grave. 

The mists of evening were stealing up from the forest about us, and therewas no sound save the plashing of the brook over the stones at our feet. Then it all faded from before me and I was standing again in a willowgrove with an open grave afar off. 

"'I am the resurrection and the life, saith the Lord, '" It was not myvoice, but another ringing up to heaven from beside me. And the voicekept on and on until the last amen. 

We filled in the shallow grave and covered it with logs and rocks. Nightwas at hand before we finished. 

"You must come with us, " said Spiltdorph to the stranger. "The doctor atthe fort will do what he can for the child. If you still think ofvengeance, you can march with us against the Indians and the French whoset them on. "

He made a gesture of assent, and we set off through the forest. 

"Stewart, " asked Spiltdorph, in a low voice, after we had walked sometime in silence, "how does it happen you knew the burial service?"

"I have read it many times in the prayer-book, " I answered simply. "Moreover, I heard it one morning beside my mother's grave, and againbeside my grandfather's. I am not like to forget it. "

He walked on for a moment, and then came close to me and caught myhand in his. 

"Forgive me, " he said softly. "You have done a good and generousthing. I can judge how much it cost you, " and we said no more until wereached the fort. 

The news that the Indians had pushed hostilities so near the camp createdno little uproar, and a party was sent out at daybreak to scour the woodsand endeavor to teach the marauders a lesson, but they returned towardevening without discovering a trace of them, and it was believed they hadmade off to Fort Duquesne. The Indians whom we had killed were recognizedas two of a party of Delawares who had been in camp a few days before, and who, it was now certain, had been sent as spies by the French and todo us what harm they could. Wherefore it was ordered that no moreDelawares should be suffered to enter the camp. 

We turned the child over to Doctor Craik, and took the man, whosename, it seemed, was Nicholas Stith, to our tent with us, where wegave him meat and drink, and did what we could to take his mind fromhis misfortune. He remained with us some days, until his child died, as it did at last, and then, finding our advance too slow to keep pacewith his passion for revenge, secured a store of ball and powder fromthe magazine, slung his rifle across his back, and disappeared intothe forest. 

In the mean time our preparations had been hurried on apace. It was nolight task to cut a road through near a hundred and fifty miles of virginforest, over two great mountain ranges and across innumerable streams, nor was it lightly undertaken. Captain Waggoner brought with him to tableone night a copy of the orders for the march and for encampment, whichwere adhered to with few changes during the whole advance, and wediscussed them thoroughly when the meal was finished, nor could wediscover in them much to criticise. 

It was ordered that, to protect the baggage from Indian surprise andinsult, scouting parties were to be thrown well out upon the flanks andin front and rear, and every commanding officer of a company was directedto detach always upon his flanks a third of his men under command of asergeant, the sergeant in turn to detach upon his flanks a third of hismen under command of a corporal, these outparties to be relieved everynight at retreat beating, and to form the advanced pickets. The wagons, artillery, and pack-horses were formed into three divisions, and theprovisions so distributed that each division was to be victualed from thepart of the line it covered, and a commissary was appointed for each. Thecompanies were to march two deep, that they might cover the line moreeffectively. Sir Peter Halket was to lead the column and Colonel Dunbarbring up the rear. An advance party of three hundred men was to precedethe column and clear the road. 

The form of encampment differed little from that of march. The wagonswere to be drawn up in close order, the companies to face out, theflanking parties to clear away the underbrush and saplings, half thecompany remaining under arms the while, and finally a chain of sentrieswas to be posted round the camp. Sir Peter Halket, with the Forty-Fourth, was to march with the first division; Lieutenant-Colonel Burton with theindependent companies, provincials, and artillery, was to form thesecond; and Colonel Dunbar, with the Forty-Eighth, the third. 

I confess that when I had become acquainted with these orders, theyseemed to me most soldier-like. A copy of them lies before me now, andeven at this day, when I scan again the plan of march, I do not see howit could be improved. I admit that there are others who know much moreof the art of war than I, and to them defects in the system may be atonce discernible. But at the time, these orders gave us all a mostexalted opinion of our general's ability, and I remembered with a smilethe gloomy prophecies of Colonel Washington. Surely, against such aforce, so ably handled, no army the French might muster could avail, andI awaited the event with a confidence and eager anticipation which wereshared by all the others. 

CHAPTER XV

WE START ON A WEARY JOURNEY

The twenty-ninth of May dawned clear and bright in pleasant contrast tothe violent storm which had raged the day before. Long ere daybreak, thecamp was alive with hurrying men, for the first detachment was to marchunder command of Major Campbell, and the sun had scarce risen above thehorizon when the gates were thrown open and the troops filed out. Sixhundred of them there were, with two fieldpieces and fifty wagons ofprovision, and very smart they looked as they fell into rank beyond thebridge and set off westward. The whole camp was there to see them go, andcheered them right heartily, for we were all of us glad that the longwaiting and delay had come to an end at last. 

All day we could see them here and there in the intervales of the forestpushing their way up a steep hill not two miles from the camp, anddarkness came before they passed the summit. Three wagons were utterlydestroyed in the passage, and new ones had to be sent from camp toreplace them, while many more were all but ruined. Spiltdorph and Iwalked out to the place the next day and found it an almost perpendicularrock, though two hundred men and a company of miners had been at workfor near a week trying to make it passable. We could see the detachmentslowly cutting its way through the valley below, and I reflected gloomilythat, at so slow a rate, the summer would be well-nigh gone before thearmy could reach its destination. Indeed, I believe it would have gone topieces on this first spur of the Alleghenies, had not LieutenantSpendelow, of the seamen, discovered a valley round its foot. Accordingly, a party of a hundred men was ordered out to clear a roadthere, and worked to such purpose that at the end of two days anextremely good one was completed, falling into the road made by MajorCampbell about a mile beyond the mountain. 

On the seventh, Sir Peter Halket and the Forty-Eighth marched, in themidst of a heavy storm, and at daybreak the next day it was our turn. Under command of Lieutenant-Colonel Burton, all of the independentcompanies and rangers left the camp, not, indeed, making so brilliant anappearance as the regulars, --who stood on either side and laughed atus, --but with a clearer comprehension of the work before us and a heartyreadiness to do it. It was not until the tenth that the third divisionunder Colonel Dunbar left the fort, and finally, on the eleventh, thegeneral joined the army where it had assembled at Spendelow camp, fivemiles from the start. 

Our tent that night was a gloomy place, for I think most of us, for thefirst time since the campaign opened, began to doubt its ultimatesuccess. We soon finished with the food, and were smoking in gloomysilence, when Peyronie came in, and after a glance around at our faces, broke into a laugh. 

"Ma foi!" he cried, "I thought I had chanced upon a meeting of ourPhiladelphia friends, --they of the broad hats and sober coats, --and yet Ihad never before known them to go to war. "

"Do you call this going to war?" cried Waggoner. "I'm cursed if I do!"

Peyronie laughed louder than ever, and Waggoner motioned him to the pipesand tobacco. 

"By God, Peyronie!" he said. "I believe you would laugh in the face ofthe devil. "

Peyronie filled his pipe, chuckling to himself the while, and when he hadgot it to drawing nicely, settled himself upon a stool. 

"Why, to tell the truth, " said he, "I was feeling sober enough myselftill I came in here, but the sight of you fellows sitting around for allthe world like death-heads at an Egyptian feast was too much for me. Andthen, " he added, "I have always found it better to laugh than to cry. "

Waggoner looked at him with a grim smile, and there was a gleam inSpiltdorph's eyes, though he tried to conceal himself behind a cloud ofsmoke. Peyronie's good humor was infectious. 

"Let me see, " continued the Frenchman, "when was it the first detachmentleft the fort?"

"The twenty-ninth of May, " answered Waggoner shortly. 

"And what day is this?"

"The eleventh of June. "

"And how far have we come?"

"Five miles!" cried Waggoner. "Damn it, man, you know all this wellenough! Don't make me say it! It's incredible! Five miles in thirteendays! Think of it!"

I heard Spiltdorph choking behind his cloud of smoke. 

"Oh, come, " said Peyronie, "that's not the way to look at it. Consider amoment. It is one hundred and fifty miles to Fort Duquesne, so I am told. At five-thirteenths of a mile a day, we shall arrive there nicelyin--in--let me see. "

"In three hundred and ninety days!" cried Spiltdorph. 

"Thank you, lieutenant, " and Peyronie bowed toward Spiltdorph's nimbus. "I was never good at figures. In three hundred and ninety days, then. Yousee, we shall get to Fort Duquesne very comfortably by the middle of Julyof next year. Perhaps the French will have grown weary of waiting for usby that time, and we shall have only to march in and occupy the fort. "

Waggoner snorted with anger. 

"Come, talk sense, Peyronie, " he said. "What's to be done?"

Peyronie smiled more blandly than ever. 

"I fancy that is just what's troubling the general, " he remarked. "I metColonel Washington a moment ago looking like a thunder-cloud, and he saida council of war had been called at the general's tent. "

"There was need of it, " and Waggoner's brow cleared a little. "Whatthink you they will do?"

"Well, " said Peyronie deliberately, "if it were left to me, the firstthing I should do would be to cut down Spiltdorph's supply of tobacco andtake away from him that great porcelain pipe, which must weigh two orthree pounds. "

"I should like to see you do it, " grunted Spiltdorph, and he took hispipe from his lips to look at it lovingly. "Why, man, that pipe has beenin the family for half a dozen generations. There's only one other likeit in Germany. "

"A most fortunate thing, " remarked Peyronie dryly; "else Virginia couldnot raise enough tobacco to supply the market. But, seriously, I believeeven the general will see the need of taking some radical action. He mayeven be induced to leave behind one or two of his women and a few casesof wine, if the matter be put before him plainly. "

"Shut up, man!" cried Waggoner. "Do you want a court-martial?" And wefell silent, for indeed the excesses of the officers of the line was asore subject with all of us. But Peyronie had made a good guess, as wefound out when the result of the council was made known next day. 

It was pointed out that we had less than half the horses we reallyneeded, and those we had were so weak from the diet of leaves to whichthey had been reduced that they could do little work. So the generalurged that all unnecessary baggage be sent back to the fort, and that asmany horses as possible be given to the public cause. He and his staffset the example by contributing twenty horses, and this had so greateffect among the officers that near a hundred were added to the train. They divested themselves, also, of all the baggage they did not need, most of them even sending back their tents, and sharing the soldiers'tents for the remainder of the campaign. Enough powder and stores wereleft behind to clear twenty wagons, and all the king's wagons werereturned to the fort as being too heavy. A deprivation which, I doubtnot, cost some of the officers more than any other, was that of theirwomen, who were ordered back to the fort, and only two women for eachcompany were allowed to be victualed upon the march, but in thisparticular the example set by the general was not so commendable as inthe matter of the horses. Three hundred lashes were ordered to anysoldier or non-commissioned officer who should be caught gaming or seendrunk in camp, but these rigors did not affect those higher up, and theofficers still spent half the night over the cards or dice, and on suchoccasions there was much wine and spirits drunk. 

We of Waggoner's and Peyronie's companies fared very well, for thoughwe gave up one of our tents, it was only to bunk together in the other. There was no room to spare, to be sure, and Peyronie grumbled thatevery time a man turned over he disturbed the whole line of sleepers, but we put the best face possible on the situation, and had littlecause for complaint, except at the food, which soon became mostvillainous. I think Spiltdorph had some twinges concerning his pipe, for he was a conscientious fellow, but he could not decide to give itup, and finally kept it with him, arguing artfully that without it hemust inevitably fall ill, and so be of no use whatever. Dear fellow, Iwonder what warrior, the envy of his tribe, smokes it now in his wigwambeside the Miami?

It took two days to repair our wagons and get our baggage readjusted, andfinally, on the thirteenth, the army set in motion again, winding alongthe narrow road through the forest like some gigantic, parti-coloredserpent, with strength barely sufficient to drag its great length along. It was noon of the next day before we reached Martin's plantation, scarcefive miles away. Yet here we had to stay another day, so nearly were thehorses spent, but at daybreak on the fifteenth the line moved again, andwe toiled up an extremely steep ascent for more than two miles. Thehorses were quite unable to proceed, so half the troops were ordered toground arms and assist the wagons. It was weary work, nor was the descentless perilous, and three of the wagons got beyond control and were dashedto pieces at the bottom. So we struggled on over hills and throughvalleys, until on the eighteenth we reached the Little Meadows. Here thearmy was well-nigh stalled. The horses had grown every day weaker, andmany of them were already dead. Nor were the men in much better case, soexcessive had been the fatigues of the journey, for on many days theyhad been under arms from sunrise till late into the night. 

It was here, for the first time since our departure from Fort Cumberland, that I chanced to see Colonel Washington, and I was shocked at the changein his appearance. He was wan and livid, and seemed to have fallen awaygreatly in flesh. To my startled inquiry, he replied that he had not beenable to shake off the fever, which had grown worse instead of better. 

"But I will conquer it, " he said, with a smile. "I cannot afford to missthe end. From here, I believe our advance will be more rapid, for thegeneral has decided that he will leave his baggage and push on with apicked body of the troops to meet the enemy. "

I was rejoiced to hear it, though I did not learn until long afterwardsthat it was by Colonel Washington's advice that this plan was adopted. Adetachment of four hundred men was sent out to cut a road to the littlecrossing of the Yoxiogeny, and on the next day the general himselffollowed with about nine hundred men, the pick of the whole command. TheVirginia companies were yet in fair condition, but the regulars had beendecimated by disease. Yet though our baggage was now reduced to thirtywagons and our artillery to four howitzers and four twelve-pounders, weseemed to have lost the power of motion, for we were four days in gettingtwelve miles. Still, we were nearing Fort Duquesne, and the Indians, seton by the French, began to harass us, and killed and scalped a stragglernow and then, always evading pursuit. On the evening of the nineteenth, the guides reported that a great body of the enemy was advancing toattack us, but they did not appear, though we remained for two hoursunder arms, anxiously awaiting the event. From that time on, the Indianshung upon our flanks, but vanished as by magic the moment we advancedagainst them. 

In consequence of these alarms, more stringent orders were issued to thecamp. On no account was a gun to be discharged unless at an enemy, thepickets were always to load afresh when going on duty, and at daybreak toexamine their pans and put in fresh priming, and a reward of five poundswas offered for every Indian scalp. Day after day we plodded on, and itwas not until the twenty-fifth of June that we reached the Great Meadows. 

I surveyed with a melancholy interest the trenches of Fort Necessity, which were yet clearly to be seen on the plain. Our detachment haltedhere for a space, and it was while I was walking up and down along theremnants of the old breastwork that I saw an officer ride up, spring fromhis horse, and spend some minutes in a keen inspection of thefortification. As he looked about him, he perceived me similarly engaged, and, after a moment's hesitation, turned toward me. He made a bravefigure in his three-cornered hat, scarlet coat, and ample waistcoat, allheavy with gold lace. His face was pale as from much loss of sleep, butvery pleasing, and as he stopped before me, I saw that his eyes were ofa clear and penetrating blue. 

"This is the place, is it not, " he asked, "where Colonel Washington madehis gallant stand against the French and Indians last year?"

"This is indeed the place, sir, " I answered, my face flushing; "and itwarms my heart to know that you deem the action a gallant one. "

"No man could do less, " he said quickly. "He held off four times hisnumber, and at the end marched out with colors flying. I know many ageneral who would have been glad to do so well. Do I guess aright, "he added, with a smile, "when I venture to say that you were presentwith him?"

"It was my great good fortune, " I answered simply, but with a pride I didnot try to conceal. 

"Let me introduce myself, " he said, looking at me with greater interest. "I am Captain Robert Orme, of General Brad dock's staff, and I have cometo admire Colonel Washington very greatly during the month that we havebeen associated. "

"And I, " I said, "am Lieutenant Thomas Stewart, of Captain Waggoner'sVirginia Company. "

"Lieutenant Stewart!" he cried, and his hand was clasping mine warmly. "I am happy to meet you. Colonel Washington has told me of the partyou played. "

"Not more happy than am I, captain, I am sure, " I answeredheartily. "Colonel Washington has spoken to me of you and in termsof warmest praise. "

"Now 'tis my turn to blush!" he cried, laughing, and looking at my cheekswhich had turned red a moment before, "but my blood has been so spent inthis horrible march that I haven't a blush remaining. "

"And how is Colonel Washington?" I questioned, glad to change thesubject. "The last I saw him, he seemed most ill. "

Captain Orme looked at me quickly, "Have you not heard?" he asked, andhis face was very grave. 

"I have heard nothing, sir, " I answered, with a sinking heart. "Pray tell me. "

"Colonel Washington has been ill almost from the first. His indomitablewill kept him on horseback when he should have been in bed. At last, whenthe fever had wasted him to a mere skeleton, and he spent his nights insleepless delirium, he broke down utterly. His body was no longer able toobey his will. At the ford of the Yoxiogeny he attempted to mount hishorse and fell in a faint. He was carried to a tent and left with two orthree guards. So soon as he recovered consciousness, he tried to get upto follow us, and was persuaded to lie still only when the generalpromised he would send for him in order that he might be present when wemeet the French. He is a man who is an honor to Virginia, " concludedOrme, and he turned away hastily to hide his emotion, nor were my owneyes wholly dry. 

"Come, " I said, "let me show you, sir, how the troops lay that day, " andas he assented, I led the way along the lines and pointed out theposition held by the enemy and how we had opposed them; but my thoughtswere miles away with that wasted figure tossing wearily from side to sideof a rude camp cot on the bank of the Yoxiogeny, with no other nursesthan two or three rough soldiers. 

"'Twas well done, " said Orme, when I had finished. "I see not how itcould have been better. And I trust the victory will be with us, not withthe French, when we meet before Duquesne. "

"Of that there can be no question!" I cried. "Once we reach the fort, itmust fall before us. "

"Faith, I believe so, " laughed Orme. "My only fear is that they will runaway, and not stay to give us battle. Our spies have told us that suchwas their intention, " and he laughed again as he saw my fallen face. "Why, I believe you are as great a fire-eater as the best of us, lieutenant. "

"In truth, sir, " I answered, somewhat abashed at his merriment, "Idecided long ago that since I held no station in the world, I needs mustwin one with my sword, but if I can find no employment for it, I seesmall hope of advancement. "

"Well, do not repine, " and he smiled as he shook my hand, "for if theFrench do not wait to meet us here, we shall yet find plenty of fightingbefore us. This is only the first stage in the journey, and Duquesne onceours, we press forward to join forces with the expeditions which aremoving against Canada. If I hear more from Colonel Washington, I shalllet you know. "

I thanked him for his kindness, and watched him as he rode awayacross the plain. When he was out of sight, I turned back to join mycompany, and I felt that I had made a new friend, and one whom I wasproud to have. 

CHAPTER XVI

THE END IN SIGHT

The country beyond Great Meadows was exceeding mountainous, and we couldproceed only a few miles each day, and that with the greatestdifficulty. The horses were by this time well-nigh useless, and at everylittle hill half the men were compelled to ground arms and take a handat the wagons. It was work fatiguing beyond description, and our sicklist grew larger every day, while those who remained upon their feetwere in scarce better plight. 

On the evening of the twenty-sixth, we reached the pass through which hadcome the party of French and Indians to attack us at Fort Necessity. Theymust have thought for a time to oppose us here, for we came upon tracesof a camp just broken up, with embers still glowing in the hollow, overwhich they had prepared their food. Both French and Indians had beenpresent, for the former had written on the trees many insolent andscurrilous expressions, --which gave me a poorer opinion of them than Ihad yet entertained, --and the Indians had marked up the number of scalpsthey had taken, some eight or ten in all. Whatever their intention mayhave been, the sight of our strength had frightened them away, and wesaw no sign of them as we descended into the valley on the other side. 

We toiled on all the next day over a road that was painfully familiar tomost of us, and in the evening came to Christopher Gist's plantation. Spiltdorph and I made a circuit of the place that night, and I pointedout to him the dispositions we had made for defense the year before. TheFrench had burned down all the buildings, but the half-finished trenchescould yet be seen, and the logs which were to have made the breastworkstill littered the ground. 

Beyond Gist's, it was a new country to all of us, and grew more open, sothat we could make longer marches. We descended a broad valley to thegreat crossing of the Yoxiogeny, which we passed on the thirtieth. Thegeneral was under much apprehension lest the French ambush us here, andso advanced most cautiously, but we saw no sign of any enemy. Beyond theriver was a great swamp, where a road of logs had to be built to supportthe wagons and artillery, but we won through without accident, and twodays later reached a place called Jacob's cabin, not above thirty miles, as the bird flies, from Fort Duquesne. Here the rumor ran through thecamp that we were to be held till Colonel Dunbar's division could bebrought up from the Little Meadows, and there was much savage comment atour mess that evening. 

"Why, " cried Peyronie, who voiced the sentiment of all of us, "'twouldtake two weeks or more to bring Dunbar up, and what are we to domeantime? Sit here and eat this carrion?" and he looked disgustedly atthe mess of unsavory beef on the table, which was, to tell the truth, most odoriferous. "'Tis rank folly to even think of such a course. "

"So the general believes, " said a pleasant voice, and I turned with astart to see a gallant figure standing by the raised flap of the tent. 

"Captain Orme!" I cried, springing to my feet, and I brought him in andpresented him to all the others. We pressed him to sit down, and thoughhe laughingly declined to partake of our rations, against which, he said, Peyronie's remark had somehow prejudiced him, he consented to join us ina glass of wine, --where Waggoner found the bottle I could neverguess, --in which we pledged the success of the campaign. 

"So we are not to stop here?" asked Peyronie, when the toast was drunk. 

"No, " and Orme set down the glass. "The suggestion was made by Sir JohnSt. Clair, and a council was held half an hour since to consider it. Itwas agreed without debate that we could not afford the delay, as theprovision is running low, and so we shall press on at once. "

"'Tis the wiser course, " said Waggoner. "We have men in plenty. "

"So the general thinks, " said Orme. "He has learned that there is only asmall garrison at the fort, which can scarce hope to resist us. But 'twasnot to talk of the campaign I came here. I had a note this evening fromColonel Washington, which I knew Lieutenant Stewart would wish to see. "

"Oh, yes!" I cried. "What says he, sir?"

Orme glanced about at the circle of attentive faces. 

"I see Colonel Washington has many friends here, " he said, with a smile. "He writes that he is improving, and hopes soon to join us, and imploresme not to neglect to warn him so that he can be present when we meet theFrench. I shall not neglect it, " he added. 

"Captain Orme, " said Peyronie, after a moment, "I am sure I speak for allthese gentlemen when I say we deeply appreciate your kindness in cominghere to-night. There is not one of us who does not love ColonelWashington. We thank you, sir, " and Peyronie bowed with a grace worthy ofVersailles. 

"Nay, " protested Orme, bowing in his turn, "it was a little thing. I, too, think much of Colonel Washington. Good-evening, gentlemen, " and weall arose and saluted him, remaining standing till he was out of sight. 

"A gentleman and a soldier, if ever I saw one!" cried Peyronie. "A manwhom it is a privilege to know. " And we all of us echoed the sentiment. So, the next morning, the order was given to march as usual, and we madeabout five miles to a salt lick in the marsh, where we camped for thenight. The next day we reached a little stream called Thicketty Run, andhere there was a longer halt, until we could gain some furtherinformation of the enemy. Christopher Gist, by dint of many gifts andmuch persuasion, had secured the services of eight Iroquois, lazy dogs, who up to the present time had done little but eat and sleep. But we werenow so near the enemy that it was imperative to reconnoitre theirposition, so, after much trouble, two of the Indians were induced to goforward, and Gist himself was sent after them to see that they really didapproach the fort and not try to deceive us. This was the fourth of July, just one year since we had marched away from Fort Necessity. All the nextday we remained at Thicketty Run, waiting for the scouts to come in, butthey did not appear until the sixth. 

The Indians returned early in the morning, bringing with them the scalpof a French officer they had killed near the fort, and stated that theyhad seen none of the enemy except the one they had shot, and that theFrench possessed no pass between us and Duquesne, and had seemingly madeno preparation to resist us. Gist got back later in the day, havingnarrowly escaped capture by two Delawares, and confirmed this story. Suchcarelessness on the part of the French seemed incredible, as the countrywas very favorable to an ambuscade, and the officers were almostunanimously of the opinion that it was their purpose to abandon the fortat our approach. 

These reports once received, we again broke camp and advanced toward theMonongahela. An unhappy accident marked the day. Three or four men whohad loitered behind were surprised by some Indians, and killed andscalped, before assistance could be sent them. This so excited ourscouting parties that they fired upon a body of our own Indians, notwithstanding the fact that they made the preconcerted signal byholding up a green bough and grounding arms. The son of Chief Monakatucawas killed by the discharge, and it was feared for a time that theIndians would leave in a body. But the general sent for them, condoledwith them and made them presents, ordered that Monakatuca's son be givena military burial, and, in a word, handled them so adroitly that theybecame more attached to us than ever. Additional scouting parties werethrown out to right and left, and every precaution taken to preventfurther mishap. 

The next day we endeavored to pass a little stream called Turtle Creek, but found the road impracticable, so turned into the valley of anotherstream, known as Long Run, and on the night of the eighth encamped withina mile of the Monongahela, and only about ten from the fort. Here GeneralSt. Clair, who seems from the first to have feared for the result, advised that a detachment be sent forward to invest the fort, but it wasfinally judged best to send the detachment from the next camp, from whichit could be readily reinforced in case it were attacked. We were to fordthe Monongahela at Crooked Run, march along the west bank to the mouth ofTurtle Creek, ford it a second time, and advance against the fort. Bothfords were described by the guides as very good ones and easy ofpassage, while if we attempted to advance straight ahead on the east bankof the river, we should encounter a very rough road, beside passingthrough a country admirably fitted by nature for an ambuscade. ColonelGage was to march before daybreak to secure both fords, and the menturned in with full assurance that the battle so long deferred and soeagerly awaited was not far distant. 

That night it so happened that I was placed in charge of one of the rearpickets, and I sat with my back against a tree, smoking lazily andwondering what the morrow would bring forth, when I heard a horsegalloping down the road, and a moment later the sharp challenge of asentry. I was on my feet in an instant, and saw that the picket hadevidently been satisfied that all was well, for he had permitted therider to pass. As he reached the edge of the camp, he emerged from theshadow of the trees, and I started as I looked at him. 

"Colonel Washington!" I cried, and as he checked his horse sharply, I wasat his side. 

"Why, is it you, Tom?" he asked, and as I took his hand, I noticed howthin it was. "Well, it seems I am in time. "

"Yes, " I said. "The battle, if there be one, must take place to-morrow. "

"Why should there not be one?" he questioned, leaning down from hissaddle to see my face more clearly. 

"The French may run away. "

"True, " he said, and sat for a moment thinking. "Yet it is not like themto run without striking a blow. No, I believe we shall have a battle, Tom, and I am glad that I am to be here to see it. "

"But are you strong enough?" I asked. "You have not yet the air of awell man. "

He laughed lightly as he gathered up his reins. "In truth, Tom, " hesaid, "I am as weak as a man could well be and still sit his horse, butthe fever is broken and I shall be stronger to-morrow. But I must reportto the general. He may have work for me, " and he set spurs to his horseand was off. 

I turned back to my station, musing on the iron will of this man, whocould drag his body from a bed of sickness when duty called and yet thinknothing of it. All about me gleamed the white tents in which thegrenadiers and provincials were sleeping, dreaming perchance of victory. Alas, for how many of them was it their last sleep this side eternity!

The hours passed slowly and quietly. Presently the moon rose andillumined the camp from end to end. Here and there I could see a picketpacing back and forth, or an officer making his rounds. At headquarterslights were still burning, and I did not doubt that an earnestconsultation was in progress there concerning the orders for the morrow. 

At midnight came the relief, and I made the best of my way back to ourquarters, crawled into the tent, whose flaps were raised to let in everybreath of air stirring, and lay down beside Spiltdorph. I tried to movesoftly, but he started awake and put out his hand and touched me. 

"Is it you, Stewart?" he asked. 

"Yes, " I said, "just in from picket. Colonel Washington reached camp anhour ago, to be here for to-morrow's battle. "

"To-morrow's battle, " repeated Spiltdorph softly. "Ah, yes, I had forgot. Do you know, Stewart, if I were superstitious, I should fear the resultof to-morrow's battle, for I had a dream about it. "

"What was the dream?" I asked. 

"No matter, we are not women, " and he turned to go to sleep again. "Good-night. "

"Good-night, " I said, and in a few moments his deep breathing told me hewas again in the land of dreams. It was long before my own eyes closed, and my dreams were not of battle, but of a bench upon the river's bank, and a figure all in white sitting there beside me. 

CHAPTER XVII

THE LESSON OF THE WILDERNESS

"Wake up, man, wake up!" cried a voice in my ear, and I opened my eyes tosee Spiltdorph's kindly face bending over me. "I let you sleep as long asI could, " he added, as I sat up and rubbed my eyes, "for I knew youneeded it, but the order has come for us to march. "

"All right, " I said. "I'll be ready in a minute, " and I ran down to thebrook and dipped my hands and face in the cool, refreshing water. Abiscuit and a piece of cold beef formed my breakfast. Our company wasstriking tents and falling in for the march, and the camp was astir fromend to end. The sun was just peeping over the tree-tops, for thatfateful Wednesday, the ninth of July, 1755, had dawned clear and fair, and all the day rode through a sky whose perfect blue remained unbrokenby a cloud. 

We were soon ready for the road, and while waiting the word, CaptainWaggoner told me that the advance had begun some hours before. At threeo'clock. Colonel Gage had marched with two companies of grenadiers andtwo hundred rank and file to secure both crossings of the river, for itwas believed that at the second crossing the French would attack us, unless they intended giving up the fort without a struggle. An hourlater, Sir John St. Clair had followed with a working party of twohundred and fifty men, to clear the road for the passage of the baggageand artillery. And at last came the word for us. 

The ground sloped gently down to the Monongahela, nearly a mile away. Theriver here was over three hundred yards in width, and the regulars hadbeen posted advantageously to guard against surprise. The baggage, horses, and cattle were all got over safely, for the water was scarcewaist-deep at any point, and then the troops followed, so that the wholearmy was soon across. 

Before us stretched a level bottom, and here we were formed in properline of march, with colors flying, drums beating, and fifes playingshrilly. The sun's slant rays were caught and multiplied a thousand timeson polished barrel and gold-laced helmet and glittering shoulder-knot. Every man had been instructed to put off the torn and travel-stainedgarments of Osnabrig he had worn upon the march, and to don his bestuniform, and very fresh and beautiful they looked, the Forty-Fourth withits yellow facings, the Forty-Eighth with buff. Nor was the showing madeby the Virginia companies less handsome, though perhaps a shade moresober. Nowhere was there visible a trace of that terrible journey throughthe wilderness. It seemed that this splendent host must have been placedhere by some magic hand, alert, vigorous, immaculate, eager for thebattle. I have only to close my eyes to see again before me thatbrilliant and gallant array. The hope of a speedy ending to theirstruggle through the forest had brought new color to the faces of themen, and a light into their eyes, such as I had not seen there for manydays. While we waited, the pieces were newly charged and primed, and theclatter of the cartouch boxes, as they were thrown back into place, ranup and down the lines. 

At last came word from Gage that he had secured the second crossing, having encountered only a small party of Indians, who had run away at thefirst alarm, and that the route was clear. The drums beat the advance, and the army swept forward as though on parade. It was a thrilling sight, and in all that multitude there was not one who doubted the event. Ithink even Colonel Washington's misgivings must have melted away beforethat martial scene. The broad river rolled at our right, and beyond itthe hills, crowned with verdure, looked down upon us. I do not doubt thatfrom those heights the eyes of the enemy's spies were peering, and thesight of our gallant and seemingly invincible army must have startled anddisheartened them. And as I looked along the ordered ranks, the barrelsgleaming at a single angle, four thousand feet moving to the drum tap, Irealized more deeply than ever that without training and discipline anarmy could not exist. 

When we reached the second ford, about one in the afternoon, we foundthat the bank was not yet made passable for the wagons and artillery, sowe drew up along the shingle until this could be done. Pickets wereposted on the heights, and half the force kept under arms, in case of asurprise. Spiltdorph and I sauntered together to the water's edge, andwatched the pioneers busy at their work. I saw that my companion waspreoccupied, and after a time he ceased to regard the men, but satlooking afar off and pitching pebbles into the stream. 

"Do you know, Stewart, " he said at last, "I am becoming timid as agirl. I told you I had a dream last night, and 't was so vivid I cannotshake it off. "

"Tell me the dream, " I said. 

"I dreamed that we met the French, and that I fell. I looked up, and youwere kneeling over me. But when I would have told you what I had to tell, my voice was smothered in a rush of blood. "

"Oh, come!" I cried, "this is mere foolishness. You do not believe indreams, Spiltdorph?"

"No, " he answered. "And yet I never had such a dream as this. "

"Why, man, " I said, "look around you. Do you see any sign of the French?And yet their fort is just behind the trees yonder. "

He looked at me in silence for a moment, and made as if to speak, but thetap of the drum brought us to our feet. 

"Come, " he said, "the road is finished. We shall soon see what truththere is in dreams. "

We took our places and the advance began again. First the Forty-Fourthwas passed over and the pickets of the right. The artillery, wagons, andcarrying horses followed, and then the provincial troops, theForty-Eighth, while the pickets of the left brought up the rear. At theend of an hour the entire force was safe across, and as yet no sign ofthe enemy. Such good fortune seemed well-nigh unbelievable, for we hadbeen assured there was no other place between us and the fort suited foran ambuscade. 

Our company halted near a rude cabin which stood upon the bank. It wasthe house of Fraser, the trader, where Washington and Gist had foundshelter after their perilous passage of the Allegheny near two yearsbefore. We had been there but a few minutes when Colonel Washingtonhimself rode up. 

"Captain Waggoner, " he said, "you will divide your company into fourflank parties, and throw them well out to the left of the line, fiftyyards at least. See that they get to their places at once, and that theykeep in touch, lest they mistake each other for the enemy. "

He was off as Waggoner saluted, and I heard him giving similar orders toPeyronie's company behind us. It was certain that the general was takingno chance of ambuscade, however safe the road might seem. We were soon inplace, Captain Waggoner himself in command of one party, Spiltdorph ofthe second, I of the third, and Lieutenant Wright of the fourth. As wetook our places, I could see something of the disposition of our forceand the contour of the ground. The guides and a few light horse headedthe column, followed by the vanguard, and the advance party under Gage. Then came St. Clair's working party, two fieldpieces, tumbrels, lighthorse, the general's guard, the convoy, and finally the rear guard. Before us stretched a fertile bottom, covered by a fair, open walnutwood, with very little underbrush, and rising gradually to a higherbottom, which reached to a range of hills two or three hundred feet inheight. Here the forest grew more closely, the underbrush became moredense, and a great thicket of pea-vines, wild grape, and trailerscompletely shut off the view. 

So soon as the line was formed, the drums beat the forward, and thehead of the column was soon out of sight among the trees, St. Clair'sworking party cutting the road as they advanced. We were nearing thetangle of underbrush, which I thought marked the course of a stream, when there came suddenly a tremendous burst of firing from the front, followed by a great uproar of yells. My heart leaped, for I knew theFrench were upon us. 

"Close up, men!" shouted Waggoner. "Bring your party up here, Stewart!"

I obeyed the order, and the other two parties joined us in a moment. Scarcely had they done so, when the thicket in front of us burst intoflame, and three or four men fell. The others, well used, for the mostpart, to this kind of fighting, took at once to the trees, and wegradually worked our way forward, keeping up a spirited fire till wereached the shelter of a huge log, which lay at the edge of the ravine. As I looked over it, I saw that the gully swarmed with Indians, firing atthe main body of the troops, who seemed wedged in the narrow road. Icould see no French, and so judged they were attacking on the other side. 

"We've got 'em now!" yelled Waggoner. "Give it to 'em, men!" and wepoured a well-directed volley into the yelling mob. 

Fifteen or twenty fell, and the others, affrighted at the unexpectedslaughter, threw down their guns and started to run. We were reloadingwith feverish haste, when from the woods behind us came a tremendousvolley. We faced about to receive this new attack, for we thought theFrench were upon us. But we saw with horror that we were being fired atby the regulars, who had taken us for the enemy in their madness, andwere preparing to fire again. 

"You fools!" screamed Waggoner. "Oh, you fools!" and white with rage, hegave the order to retreat. 

A moment later, as I looked around, I saw that Spiltdorph was not withus. 

"Where is he?" I asked. "Where is Spiltdorph?"

Waggoner motioned behind us. 

"He was hit, " he said. "He was killed by those cowardly assassins. "

"Perhaps he is not dead!" I cried, and before he could prevent me, I ranback to the log. Not less than twenty dead lay near it, and in an instantI saw my friend. I dropped beside him, and tore away his shirt. He hadbeen hit in the side by two bullets, and as I saw the wounds, I cursedthe insensate fools who had inflicted them. I tried to stanch the blood, and as I raised his head, saw his eyes staring up at me. 

"The dream!" he cried. "The dream! Stewart, listen. There is agirl--at Hampton"--A rush of blood choked him. He tried to speak, clutched at my sleeve, and then his head fell back, a great sigh shookhim, and he was dead. 

The Indians were pouring back into the ravine, and I knew I could stay nolonger. So I laid him gently down, and with my heart aching as it had notached since my mother died, made my way back to my company. "There is agirl, " he had said, "at Hampton. " What was it he had tried to tell? Well, if God gave me life, I would find out. 

But every other thought was driven from my mind in my astonishment andhorror at the scene before me. Gage's advance party had given way almostat the first fire, just as Burton was forming to support them, and thetwo commands were mingled in hopeless confusion. The officers spurredtheir horses into the mob, and tried in vain to form the men in some sortof order. The colors were advanced in different directions, but there wasnone to rally to them, for the men remained huddled together likefrightened sheep. And all around them swept that leaden storm, whosesource they could not see, mowing them down like grain. They fired volleyafter volley into the forest, but the enemy remained concealed in theravines on either side, and the bullets flew harmless above their heads. 

At the moment I joined my company, General Braddock rode up, cursing likea madman, and spurred his horse among the men. I could see him giving anorder, when his horse was hit and he barely saved himself from fallingunder it. Another horse was brought, and in a moment he was again ravingup and down the lines. 

"What means this?" he screamed, coming upon us suddenly, where we weresheltering ourselves behind the trees and replying to the enemy's fire asbest we could. "Are you all damned cowards?"

"Cowards, sir!" cried Waggoner, his face aflame. "What mean you by that?"

"Mean?" yelled Braddock. "Damn you, sir, I'll show you what I mean! Comeout from behind those trees and fight like men!"

"Ay, and be killed for our pains!" cried Waggoner. 

"What, sir!" and the general's face turned purple. "You dare dispute myorder?" and he raised his sword to strike, but his arm was caught beforeit had descended. 

"These men know best, sir, " cried Washington, reining in his horse besidehim. "This is the only way to fight the Indians. "

The general wrenched his arm away and, fairly foaming at the mouth, spurred his horse forward and beat the men from behind the trees with theflat of his sword. 

"Back into the road, poltroons!" he yelled. "Back into the road! I'llhave no cowards in my army!"

Washington and Waggoner watched him with set faces, while the men, tooastounded to speak, fell slowly back into the open. Not until that momentdid I comprehend the blind folly of this man, determined to sacrifice hisarmy to his pride. 

We fell back with our men, and there in the road found Peyronie, with theremnant of his company, his face purple and his mouth working with rage. All about us huddled the white-faced regulars, --the pride of the army, the heroes of a score of battles!--crazed by fright, firing into the airor at each other, seeing every moment their comrades falling about them, killed by an unseen foe. I turned sick at heart as I looked at them. Hellcould hold no worse. 

Hotter and hotter grew the fire, and I realized that it was not theFrench attacking us at all, but only their Indian allies. Not half adozen Frenchmen had been seen. It was by the savages of the forest thatthe best troops in Europe were being slaughtered. Sir Peter Halket wasdead, shot through the heart, and his son, stooping to pick him up, fella corpse across his body. Shirley was shot through the brain. Poison wasdead. Totten, Hamilton, Wright, Stone, were dead. Spendelow had fallen, pierced by three bullets. The ground was strewn with dead and wounded. Horses, maddened by wounds, dashed through the ranks and into the forest, often bearing their riders to an awful death. The Indians, growingbolder, stole from the ravines, and scalped the dead and wounded almostbefore our eyes. I began to think it all a hideous nightmare. Surely sucha thing as this could not really be!

Colonel Burton had succeeded in turning some of his men about to face ahill at our right, where the enemy seemed in great number, and we ofWaggoner's company joined him. A moment later, Colonel Washington, whoalone of the general's aides was left unwounded, galloped up and orderedus to advance against the hill and carry it. With infinite difficulty, ahundred men were collected who would still obey the order. As weadvanced, the enemy poured a galling fire upon us. A ball grazed myforehead and sent a rush of blood into my eyes. I staggered forward, andwhen I had wiped the blood away and looked about me, I saw with amazementthat our men had faced about and were retreating. I rushed after them andjoined two or three other officers who were trying to rally them. Butthey were deaf to our entreaties and would not turn. 

As I glanced back up the slope down which we had come, I saw a sightwhich palsied me. Colonel Burton had fallen, seemingly with a wound inthe leg, and was slowly dragging himself back toward the lines. Behindhim, an Indian was dodging from tree to tree, intent on getting hisscalp. Burton saw the savage, and his face grew livid as he realized howrapidly he was being overtaken. In an instant I was charging up theslope, and ran past Burton with upraised sword. The Indian saw me coming, and waited calmly, tomahawk in air. While I was yet ten or twelve pacesfrom him, I saw his hand quiver, and sprang to one side as the bladeflashed past my head. With a yell of disappointment, the Indian turnedand disappeared in the underbrush. I ran back to Burton, and stooped toraise him. 

"Allow me to aid you, Lieutenant Stewart, " said a voice at my elbow, andthere stood Harry Marsh, as cool as though there were not an Indianwithin a hundred miles. "I saw you turn back, " he added, "and thought youmight need some help. "

I nodded curtly, for the bullets were whistling about us in a manner farfrom pleasing, and between us we lifted Burton and started back towardthe lines. 

"My left leg seems paralyzed, " he said. "The bullet must have struck anerve. If I could get on horseback, I should be all right again. "

And then he staggered and nearly fell, for Marsh lay crumpled up in aheap on the ground. 

"He is dead, " said Burton, as I stared down in horror at what an instantbefore had been a brave, strong, hopeful human being. "A man never fallslike that unless he is dead. He was doubtless shot through the heart. Hewas a brave boy. Did you know him?"

"His name was Marsh, " I answered hoarsely. "He was my cousin. "

"I shall not forget it, " said Burton, and we stood a moment longerlooking down at the dead. 

But it was folly to linger there, and we continued on, I helping Burtonas well as I could. And a great loathing came over me for this gamecalled war. We reached the lines in safety, where Burton was taken to therear and given surgical attention. His wound was not a bad one, and halfan hour later, I saw that he had made good his assertion that he would beall right once he was on horseback. 

In the mean time, affairs had gone from bad to worse, and the men werewholly unnerved. Those who were serving the artillery were picked off, and the pieces had been abandoned. A desperate effort was made to retakethem, but to no avail. The Indians had extended themselves along bothsides of the line, and had sharply attacked the baggage in the rear. Themen were crowded into a senseless, stupefied mob, their faces blanchedwith horror and dripping with sweat, too terrified, many of them, toreload their firelocks. The general rode up and down the line, exposinghimself with the utmost recklessness, but the men were long past thereach of discipline. After all, human nature has its depths which nodrill-master can touch. Four horses were shot under him, and even while Icursed his folly, I could not but admire his courage. Nor was the conductof his officers less gallant. Throwing themselves from the saddle, theyformed into platoons and advanced against the enemy, but not even by thisdesperate means could the regulars be got to charge. So many officersfell that at last it was as difficult to find any to give orders as toobey them, and when, as a last desperate resort, the general, putting hispride in his pocket, yielded to Washington's advice, and directed thatthe troops divide into small parties and advance behind the trees tosurround the enemy, there was none to execute the manoeuvre, which, earlier in the action, would have saved the day. 

It was plain that all was lost, that there was nothing left but toretreat. We had no longer an army, but a mere mob of panic-stricken men. The hideous yelling of the savages, as they saw the slaughter they weredoing and exulted in it, the rattle of the musketry, the groans andcurses of the wounded who fell everywhere about us, the screams of themaddened horses, combined into a bedlam such as I hope never to hearagain. Toward the last, the Virginia troops alone preserved any semblanceof order. Away off to the right, I caught a glimpse of Peyronie rallyingthe remnant of his company, and I looked from them to the tremblingregulars, and remembered with a rush of bitterness how they had laughedat us a month before. 

Of a sudden there was a dash of hoofs beside me, and I saw the generalrein up beneath a tree and look up and down the field. Colonel Washingtonwas at his side, and seemed to be unwounded, though he had been everwhere the fight was thickest. 

"This is mere slaughter!" the general cried at last. "We can do no more. Colonel Washington, order the retreat sounded. "

And as the drums rolled out the dismal strain which meant disgrace forhim and the blighting of all his hopes, he sat his horse with rigid faceand eyes from which all life had fled. He had been taught the lesson ofthe wilderness. 

CHAPTER XVIII

DEFEAT BECOMES DISHONOR

But there was worse to follow, for scarce had the first tap of the drumsechoed among the trees, when the mob of regulars became a mere frenziedrabble. The officers tried to withdraw them from the field in somesemblance of order, but the men seemed seized with mad, blind, unreasoning terror, and were soon beyond all hope of control. They rushedfrom the field, sweeping their officers before them, and carrying withthem the provincial troops, who would have stood firm and behaved assoldiers should. I was caught in one edge of the mob, as I tried torestrain the men about me, and flung aside against a tree with such forcethat I stood for a moment dazed by the blow, and then I saw I was beneaththe tree where Washington and Braddock sat their horses, watching withgrim faces the frenzied crowd sweep past. The soldiers flung away theirguns and accoutrements, their helmets, even their coats, that they mightflee the faster, and I saw one strike down a young subaltern who tried tostay them. They jostled and fell over one another as sheep pursued bydogs. I saw a horseman, his head bandaged in a bloody cloth, trying tomake way toward us against this cursing torrent, and recognized CaptainOrme. But he was dashed aside even as I had been, and for a moment Ithought he had been torn from his horse and trodden underfoot. Torn fromhis horse he was, indeed, but escaped the latter fate, for some momentslater he came to us on foot through the trees. 

"Come, sir, " he cried to the general, as he gained his side, "you mustleave the field. There is no hope of getting a guard from among thesecowards or persuading them to make a stand. "

Braddock turned to answer him, but as he did so, threw up his hands andfell forward into the arms of his aide. I sprang to Orme's assistance, and between us we eased him down. His horse, doubtless also struck by aball, dashed off screaming through the wood. 

"They have done for me!" he groaned, as we placed his back against atree. "Curse them, they have done for me. "

Washington, who had left his horse the instant he saw the general fall, knelt and rested the wounded man's head upon his knee, and wiped thebloody foam from off his lips. 

"Where are you hit?" he asked. 

"Here, " and the general raised his left hand and touched his side. "'Tisa mortal hurt, and I rejoice in it. I have no wish to survive this day'sdisgrace. "

He cast his bloodshot eyes at the rabble of fleeing men. 

"And to think that they are soldiers of the line!" he moaned, and closedhis eyes, as though to shut out the sight. 

"We must get him out of this, " said Orme quietly, and he turned away tocall to some of the Forty-Eighth who were rushing past. But they did noteven turn their heads. With an oath, Orme seized one by the collar. 

"A purse of sixty guineas!" he cried, dangling it before his eyes, butthe man threw him fiercely off, and continued on his way. Orme turnedback to us, his face grim with anger and despair. 

"'Tis useless, " he said. "We cannot stop them. The devil himself couldnot stop them now. "

The general had lain with his eyes closed and scarce breathing, so that Ithought that he had fainted. But he opened his eyes, and seemed to readat a glance the meaning of Orme's set face. 

"Gentlemen, " he said, more gently than I had ever heard him speak, "Ipray you leave me here and provide for your own safety. I have but alittle time to live at best, and the Indians will be upon us in a moment. Leave them to finish me. You could not do a kinder thing. I have no wishthat you should sacrifice your lives so uselessly by remaining here withme. There has been enough of sacrifice this day. "

Yes, he was a gallant man, and whatever of resentment had been in myheart against him vanished in that instant. We three looked into eachother's eyes, and read the same determination there. We would save thegeneral, or die defending him. But the situation was indeed adesperate one. 

At that moment, a tumbrel drawn by two maddened horses dashed by. Onewheel caught against a tree, and before the horses could get it free orbreak from the harness, I had sprung to their heads. 

"Quick!" I cried, "I cannot hold them long. "

They understood in a moment, and, not heeding the general's entreatiesand commands that he be left, lifted him gently into the cart. Washingtonsprang in beside him, Orme to the front, and in an instant I was clingingto the seat and we were tearing along the road. It was time, for as Iglanced back, I saw the Indians rushing from the wood, cutting down andscalping the last of the fugitives. I saw that Orme was suffering fromhis wound, which seemed a serious one, and so I took the lines, which herelinquished without protest, and held the horses to the road as well asI was able. The tumbrel thundered on, over rocks and stumps of trees, over dead men, --ay, and living ones, I fear, --to the river-bank, where afew of the Virginia troops, held together by Waggoner and Peyronie, haddrawn up. It did my heart good to see them standing there, so cool andself-possessed, while that mob of regulars poured past them, frenziedwith fear. And the thought came to me that never hereafter would a bluecoat need give precedence to a red one. 

We splashed down into the water and across the river without drawingrein, since it was evident that no chance of safety lay on that side. Waggoner seemed to understand what was in the cart, for he formed his menbehind us and followed us across the river. Scarcely had we reached theother bank, when the Indians burst from the trees across the water, butthey stopped there and made no further effort at pursuit, returning tothe battleground to reap their unparalleled harvest of scalps and booty. About half a mile from the river, we brought the horses to a stop to seewhat would best be done. 

"The general commands that a stand be made here, " cried Washington, leaping from the cart, and Orme jumped down beside him, while I securedthe horses. 

"He is brave and determined as ever, " said Washington in a low tone, "though suffering fearfully. The ball has penetrated his lung, I fear, for he can breathe only with great agony, and is spitting blood. "

Colonel Burton joined us at that moment, and between us we lifted thegeneral from the cart and laid him on a bed of branches on the ground. 

"Rally the men here, " he said, setting his teeth to keep back the groanwhich would have burst from him. "We will make a stand, and so soon as wecan get our force in shape, will march back against the enemy. We shallknow better how to deal with them the second time. "

We turned away to the work of rallying the fugitives, but the task wasnot a light one, for the men seemed possessed with the fear that thesavages were on their heels, and ran past us without heeding our commandsto halt. At last we got together above a hundred men, posted sentries, and prepared to spend the night. Darkness was already coming on, andfinally Captain Orme and Colonel Washington, after having searched invain for Doctor Craik, themselves washed the general's wound and dressedit as best they could. They found that the ball had shattered the rightarm, and then passed into the side, though how deeply it had penetratedthey had no means of telling. 

Despite his suffering, he thought only of securing our position, and sosoon as his wound was dressed, he ordered Captain Waggoner and ten men tomarch to our last camp and bring up some provisions which had been leftthere. He directed Colonel Washington to ride at once to Colonel Dunbar'scamp, and order up the reinforcements for another advance against theFrench. He dictated a letter to Dinwiddie calling for more troops, whichWashington was to take with him, and forward by messenger from Dunbar'scamp. Though so shaken in body he could scarce sit upright in the saddle, Washington set off cheerfully on that frightful journey. Orme and Iwatched him until he disappeared in the gloom. 

"A gallant man, " he said, as we turned back to the rude shelter which hadbeen thrown up over the place where the general lay. "I do not think Ihave ever seen a braver. You could not see as I could the prodigies ofvalor he performed to-day. And he seems to bear a charmed life, forthough his coat was pierced a dozen times and two horses were killedunder him, he has escaped without a scratch. "

We walked on in silence until we reached headquarters, where ColonelBurton was also sitting, suffering greatly from his wound now he was nolonger on horseback. 

"Lieutenant Stewart, " he said to me, "I place you in charge of thesentries for the night. Will you make the rounds and see that all iswell? I know the men are weary, but I need hardly tell you that oursafety will depend upon their vigilance. Guard especially against asurprise from the direction of the river. "

I saluted, and started away to make the round. The sun had long sincesunk behind the trees in a cloud of blood-red vapor, which seemed to mesignificant of the day. All about us through the forest arose the chorusof night sounds, and afar off through the trees I could catch theglinting of the river. What was happening beyond it, I dared not think. And then I came to a sudden stop, for I had reached the spot where thefirst sentry had been posted, but there was none in sight. 

I thought for a moment that in the darkness I must have missed theplace, but as I looked about me more attentively, I saw that could notbe. I walked up and down, but could find no trace of him. Could it bethat the Indians had stolen upon him and killed him with a blow ofknife or tomahawk before he could cry out? Yet if that had happened, where was the body?

I hurried on toward the spot where the next sentry had been posted, andas I neared it, strained my eyes through the gloom, but could see notrace of him. I told myself that I was yet too far away, and hurriedforward, but in a moment I had reached the place. There was no sentrythere. With the perspiration starting from my forehead, I peered amongthe trees and asked myself what mysterious and terrible disasterthreatened us. The third sentry was missing like the others--the fourthhad disappeared--I made the whole round of the camp. Not a singlesentry remained. And then, of a sudden, the meaning of their absenceburst upon me. 

I hurried back to the camp, passing the spot where we had quartered themen whom we had rallied, but who were not placed on sentry duty. 

As I expected, not one was there. 

"All is well, I trust, Lieutenant Stewart?" asked Colonel Burton, as Iapproached. Then something in my face must have startled him, for heasked me sharply what had happened. 

"I fear we cannot remain here, sir, " I said, as calmly as I could. "Allof our men have deserted us. There is not a single sentry at his post;"and I told him what I had found. 

He listened without a word till I had finished. 

"You will get the tumbrel ready for the general, lieutenant, " he saidquietly. "I will report this sad news to him. It seems that our defeat isto become dishonor. "

I put the horses into harness again, and led them to the place where thegeneral lay. He seemed dazed by the tidings of his men's desertion, andmade no protest nor uttered any sound as we lifted him again into thecart and set off through the night. We soon reached the second ford, andon the other side found Colonel Gage, who had contrived to rally abouteighty men and hold them there with him. But there seemed no hope ofkeeping them through the night, so we set forward again, and plunged intothe gloomy forest. 

An hour later, as I was plodding wearily along beside the cart, thinkingover the events of this tragic day, I was startled by a white facepeering from beneath the upraised curtain out into the darkness. It wasthe stricken man within, who was surveying the remnant of that gallantarmy which, a few short hours before, had passed along this road sogayly, thinking itself invincible. He held himself a moment so, then letthe curtain drop and fell back upon his couch. 

CHAPTER XIX

ALLEN AND I SHAKE HANDS

Of the horrors of the night which followed, my pen can paint no adequatepicture. Fugitives panted past us in the darkness, pursued by phantoms oftheir own imagining, thinking only of one thing--to leave that scene ofawful slaughter far behind. The wounded toiled on, groaning and cursing, for to drop to the rear or to wander from the way was to die, if not byknife or tomahawk, none the less surely by hunger. Here and there somepoor wretch who could win no farther sat groaning by the roadside orrolled in delirium upon the ground. The vast, impenetrable darkness ofthe forest overshadowed us, full of threatening suggestion and peopledwith nameless terrors. 

Colonel Gage remained with us with such of his men as he could holdtogether, and among them I saw Lieutenant Allen. He had been wounded inthe shoulder, and at the suggestion of Captain Orme mounted the tumbreland drove the horses, while I walked beside it. What agonies the strickenman within endured, tossed from side to side as the cart bumped along therough road, through ruts and over rocks and stumps of trees, must havebeen beyond description, but not once during all that long night did Ihear a groan or complaint from him. Once he asked for water, and as Ormeand I stooped over him I heard him murmur as though to himself, "Whowould have thought it?" and again, "Who would have thought it?" Then hedrank the water mechanically and lay back, and said no more. 

The disaster had been too sudden, too unexpected, too complete, for anyof us to fully realize. It seemed impossible that this handful ofterror-stricken fugitives should be all that remained of the proud armyto which we had belonged, and that this army had been defeated by a fewhundred Indians. Few of us had seen above a dozen of the enemy, --we ofWaggoner's company were the only ones who had looked down upon thatyelling mob in the ravine, --and scarce knew by whom we had beenslaughtered. It was incredible that two regiments of the best troops inEngland should have been utterly routed by so contemptible a foe. Thereason refused to acknowledge such a thing. 

I was plodding along, wearily enough, thinking of all this, when I heardmy name called, and glancing up, saw Allen looking round the corner ofthe wagon cover. 

"Won't you come up here, Lieutenant Stewart?" he asked. "There is ampleroom for two, and 't is no use to tire yourself needlessly. "

I accepted gratefully, though somewhat astonished at his courtesy, and ina moment was on the seat beside him. He fell silent for a time, nor was Iin any mood for talk, for Spiltdorph's fate and young Harry Marsh'ssudden end weighed upon me heavily. 

"Lieutenant Stewart, " he said at last, "I feel that I did you and theVirginia troops a grave injustice when I chose to question their courage. What I saw to-day has opened my eyes to many things. In all the army, theVirginia troops were the only ones who kept their wits about them andproved themselves men. I wish to withdraw the expressions I used thatnight, and to apologize for them most sincerely. "

My hand was in his in an instant. 

"With all my heart, " I said. "I have thought more than once since thenthat we were both too hasty. "

He laughed, --a short laugh, in which there was no mirth. 

"I think there are many of us who have been too hasty in this campaign, "he said. "It is easy enough to see now that regulars are worth little inthis frontier warfare, where their manoeuvres count for nothing, and thatthe provincials should have been left to fight in their own fashion. Itis not a pleasant thought that all my work in drilling them was worsethan wasted, and that every new manoeuvre I taught them impaired theirefficiency by just so much. "

"'Twas not quite so bad as that, " I protested. "The Virginia troops havemuch to thank you for, and we shall know better how to deal with theenemy next time. "

"Next time?" he repeated despondently. "But when will next time be, think you?"

"Why, at once, to be sure!" I cried. "We have still, with ColonelDunbar's companies, over a thousand men. So soon as we join with him, andget our accoutrement in order, we can march back against the enemy, andwe shall not be caught twice in the same trap. "

He did not answer, and there was a moment's silence. I glanced at hisface and saw that it was very grave. 

"You do not mean, " I asked, with a great fear at my heart, "that youthink it possible we shall retreat without striking another blow?"

"I fear it is only too possible, " he answered gloomily. "If the generallives, he may order another advance; indeed, I am sure he will, in thehope of saving some fragment of his reputation. But if he dies, as seemsmost likely, Colonel Dunbar, who succeeds to the command, is not the manto imperil his prestige by taking such a risk. "

"Risk?" I cried. "How is this any greater than the risk we took atthe outset?"

"You forget, lieutenant, " said Allen, "that all of our equipment was lefton the field. The men flung away their arms, many of them even theclothes upon their backs. Everything was abandoned, --the general'sprivate papers, and even the military chest, with �10, 000 in it. Theselosses will not be easily repaired. "

I could not but admit the truth of this, and said as much. 

"And then, " continued Allen, still more gloomily, "we have sufferedanother loss which can never be made good. The morale of the men isgone. They have no longer the confidence in themselves which a winningarmy must have. I doubt if many of them could be got to cross theMonongahela a second time. "

Yes, that was also true, and we fell silent, each busy with his ownthoughts. It seemed too horrible, too utterly fantastic. At last came thedawn, and the light of the morning disclosed us to each other. As Ilooked about me, I wondered if these scarecrows, these phantoms of men, could be the same who had gone into battle in all the pride of manhoodand pageantry of arms the day before. Orme was ghastly, with his bandagedhead and torn, mud-stained uniform, and as I looked at him, I recalledsadly the gallant figure I had met at Fort Necessity. Nor were the othersbetter. Haggard faces, bloodshot eyes, lips drawn with suffering, hairmatted with blood, --all the grim and revolting realities of defeat werethere before us, and no longer to be denied. And I realized that I wasghastly as any. A bullet had cut open my forehead, leaving a livid gash, from which the blood had dried about my face. I had lost my hat, and myuniform was in tatters and stained with blood. 

We soon met the men who had gone forward with Waggoner to secure us somesupplies, and halted by a little brook to wash our injuries. Captain Ormeand some others attended as well as they were able to the general, andgave him a little food, which was all too scarce, barely sufficient for asingle meal. Fortunately, Doctor Craik, who had learned that the generalwas wounded, came up soon after, and made a careful examination of theinjury. He came away, when he had finished, with grave face, and told usthere was little hope, as the wound was already much inflamed andfevered, and the general was able to breathe only with great agony. Hesaid there could be no question that the ball had entered the lung. Thegeneral fancied that he would be easier on horseback, so when the marchwas begun again, he was mounted on the horse Orme had been riding, butafter half an hour his pain grew so intense that he had to be taken down. It was evident that he could not endure the jolting of the cart, and wefinally rigged up a sort of litter out of a portion of the tumbrel top, and the men took turns in bearing him on this between them. 

Daylight banished much of the terror of the night, and as we toiledonward, we began to talk a little, each to tell what part he had seenof the battle. It was here that I heard the story of Harry Gordon, theengineer who had been marking out the road in advance of the column, and who had first seen the enemy. They had appeared suddenly, comingthrough the wood at a run, as though hurrying from the fort, and led bya man whose silver gorget and gayly fringed hunting-shirt at oncebespoke the chief. So soon as he saw Gordon, he halted and waved hishat above his head, and the rabble of savages at his heels haddispersed to right and left and disappeared as if by magic. An instantlater came a tremendous rifle fire from either flank, which cut Gage'stroops to pieces. They had rallied and returned the fire with spirit, so that for a time the issue hung in the balance; but the terrible fireto which they were subjected was too much for any discipline towithstand, and they had finally given way in confusion, just as Burtonwas forming to support them. 

It was not until long afterward that I heard the French story of thefight, but I deem it best to set it down here. As our army had approachedthrough the wilderness, the Indians who lurked upon our flanks hadcarried greatly exaggerated stories of our strength to Fort Duquesne, andM. De Contrecoeur prepared to surrender on terms of honorablecapitulation, deeming it mere madness to oppose a force so overwhelmingin strength and so well disciplined. To the French the reputation ofGeneral Braddock and of the Forty-Fourth and Forty-Eighth regiments ofthe line was well known and commanded the greatest respect. On the eighthof July, it was reported that the English were only a few miles from thefort, which they would probably invest the next day, and M. De Beaujeu, acaptain of the regulars, asked the commandant for permission to preparean ambuscade and contest the second passage of the Monongahela. Contrecoeur granted the request with great reluctance, and only oncondition that Beaujeu obtain the assistance of the Indians, of whomthere were near a thousand camped about the fort. Accordingly. Beaujeu atonce called the warriors to a council, and urged that they accompany himagainst the English on the morrow. They received his proposition withmarked coldness, and according to the Indian custom, asked until morningto consider their reply. In the morning, the council was called togetheragain, and the Indians refused to take part in the expedition. At thatmoment a runner burst in upon them and announced that the enemy was athand. Beaujeu, who knew well the inflammable nature of his hearers, wason his feet in an instant. 

"I, " he cried, "am determined to go out against the enemy. I am certainof victory. What! Will you suffer your father to depart alone?"

It was the one spark needed to set the Indians on fire. They were franticwith excitement. Barrels of bullets and casks of powder were rolled fromthe fort, and their heads knocked out, so that each Indian could takewhat he needed. War paint was donned, and in an hour the band, ninehundred strong, of whom near seven hundred were Indians and the remainderCanadians and regulars, set off silently through the forest. Beaujeucalculated, at the most, on giving us a severe check as we crossed thesecond ford, but long ere he reached the river, the beating of the drumsand the tramp of the approaching army told him that he was too late, andthat we had already crossed. Quickening their pace to a run, in a momentthey came upon our vanguard, and as Beaujeu gave the signal, the Indiansthrew themselves into two ravines on our flanks, while the Canadians andFrench held the centre. The first volley of Gage's troops killedBeaujeu, and was so tremendous that it frightened the Indians, whoturned to flee. But they were rallied by a few subalterns, and findingthat the volleys of the regulars did little damage except to the trees, returned to the attack, and during the whole engagement were perfectlysheltered in the ravines, rifle and artillery fire alike sweeping abovethem. They lost altogether but twenty-five or thirty men, and most ofthese fell before the volley which we of Waggoner's company had firedinto the ravine. 

After our retreat, no pursuit was attempted, the Indians busyingthemselves killing and scalping the wounded and gathering up the richbooty which the army had left behind. They decked themselves in Britishuniforms, stuck the tall caps of the grenadiers above their paintedfaces, wound neck, wrist, and ankle with gold lace, made the wood to echowith the dreadful scalp-halloo. Such an orgy of blood they never hadbefore; not another such will they ever have. 

One other horror must I record, which chokes me even yet to think of. Ascore of regulars, surrounded by savages and cut off in their retreatfrom the remainder of the army, yielded themselves captive to thevictors, thinking to be treated as prisoners of war have ever been inChristian nations. But the Indians knew only their own bloodthirstycustoms. Half of the captives were tomahawked on the spot. The otherswere stripped of clothing, their faces blackened, their hands boundbehind them, and were driven forward to the Allegheny, where, justacross from Fort Duquesne, a stake had been set in the river's bank. Arrived there, the prisoners began to understand the fate prepared forthem, yet they could not believe. A hundred yards away across the riverstood the walls of the fort, crowded with soldiers, the fair lilies ofFrance waving lazily above their heads. Calmly they watched the terriblepreparations, --Contrecoeur, Dumas, and all the others, --and not oneraised a hand to rescue those unhappy men, or uttered a word to mitigatetheir torture. From dark to dawn the flames shimmered across thewater, --for the English went to their fate singly, --and things were doneto turn one sick with horror; yet did the French look tranquilly fromtheir bastions and joke one to another. Our flag, thank God, has neverbeen sullied by a deed like that!

Early the next morning, the Indians started westward to their homes, laden with booty, sated with slaughter, leaving the French to take careof themselves as best they might. The latter remained for a week in greatfear of another attack, which they would have been quite unable towithstand, little thinking that our army was fleeing back to thesettlements with feet winged by an unreasoning terror. 

We reached Gist's plantation at ten o'clock on the night of the tenth, and here we were compelled to stop because of our own exhaustion and thegreat suffering of the general. And here, early the next morning, cameColonel Washington, sitting his cushioned saddle like some gauntspectre, and bringing with him wagons loaded with provision. The generalstill persisted in the exercise of his duties, despite his suffering, andhe at once detailed a party to proceed toward the Monongahela with asupply of food, for the succor of the stragglers and the wounded who hadbeen left behind, --a duty which was ill fulfilled because of thecowardice of those to whom it was intrusted. Meanwhile we pushed on, andreached Dunbar's camp that night. 

We found it in the utmost confusion. At five o'clock on the morning afterthe battle, a teamster, who had cut loose his horse and fled at the firstonset, had ridden madly into the camp crying that the whole army wasdestroyed and he alone survived. At his heels came other teamsters, forwith an appalling cowardice, which makes me blush for my countrymen, theyhad one and all cut loose their teams at the first fire, and selectingthe best horse, had fled precipitately from the field. Toward noon, Colonel Washington had arrived, bringing the first accurate news of thedisaster, and at once setting on foot the relief expedition. After himcame troops of haggard, toil-worn, famished men, without arms, bewilderedwith terror, fearing a second ambuscade at every step, and with the yellsof the Indians still ringing in their ears. The news of the disaster andthe incoherent stories of these half-crazed fugitives spreadconsternation through the camp. Men deserted by scores and startedhot-foot for the settlements, and all pretense of discipline vanished. Nor did the arrival of the general greatly better matters. He was fastsinking, and long periods of delirium sapped his strength. It was evidentthat the end was near. 

On the morning of the twelfth, I was engaged in collecting such ofthe Virginia troops as I could find about the camp, when I sawColonel Washington approaching with a face so gloomy that I foresawsome new disaster. 

"What is it?" I asked, almost before he had reached me. 

"Have you not heard?" and he looked meaningly back toward a spring nearwhich a number of men were unheading some casks. "We are to destroy allour powder and stores, burn our wagons, and flee back to the settlements, like so many children. "

"Why, 'tis folly!" I cried. "'Tis monstrous! Who gave such an order?"

"I know not, " and Washington smiled bitterly. "It is certain that thegeneral did not, since he has been raving with fever all the night. Besides, his one thought has been to march back against the French theinstant he could get his troops together. Come, walk over with me and letus watch this unhappy work. "

I followed him, and witnessed a sight which filled me with speechlessanger and indignation. Powder casks were being knocked open and theircontents cast into the spring, cohorns broken, shells burst, provisionsdestroyed, and upwards of a hundred and fifty wagons burned. I rememberedbitterly what work we had had to obtain those wagons. Such a scene ofsenseless and wanton destruction I had never seen before, and hope neverto see again. A frenzy of terror seemed to possess officers and menalike, and I turned away, raging at heart, to think that to such men asthese had been intrusted the defense of our country. At last the work ofdestruction was complete. With barely enough provision to carry us toFort Cumberland, and with no ammunition save that in our cartouch boxes, the retreat commenced, if the flight of a disordered and frenzied rabblecan be dignified by such a name. 

CHAPTER XX

BRADDOCK PAYS THE PRICE

It was the morning of Sunday, July 13, that this shameful flight began. Its arrant cowardice weighed on many of the officers who were left alive, and even on some of the men, especially, I am glad to say, on many of theVirginians. Whose fault was it? Well, Colonel Dunbar was in command, since the general was no longer conscious, and must take the blame. 

Colonel Washington had asked me to remain near him, if possible. He hadsecured me a horse, and together with Captain Orme, who was no lessdepressed, we formed the escort to the litter whereon lay the dying man. Doctor Craik came to us from time to time, but the general was far beyondhuman aid. I had never respected him so much as in this hour, for of hisdownright valor I had had every proof. If only his pride had been alittle less, that his valor might have counted! It was while I was ridingthus, absorbed in melancholy thought, that a horse cantered up beside me, and looking up, I saw Lieutenant Allen. 

"Confess I was a true prophet, Lieutenant Stewart, " he remarked, witha sorry attempt at a smile, "though damme if I could have foretoldthat act of folly back yonder! You see, I know our new commanderbetter than do you. "

"So it seems, " I answered, and at that moment caught Colonel Washington'sastonished eyes fixed upon us. Allen followed my glance, and smiled as hesaw the expression of Washington's face. 

"He cannot understand our friendliness, " he laughed. "He is doubtlesswondering if we are arranging the preliminaries for the desperateencounter for which we were booked. Let me explain the situation to him, "and he spurred to Washington's side. "I had occasion to say to LieutenantStewart a few evenings ago, " he said, "that I had been grievouslymistaken in my estimate of his courage, and that of the Virginiacompanies, and that I was truly sorry that I had ever questioned them. Inthe light of to-day's event, I am still more sorry, and I wish to add toyou, Colonel Washington, that I regret the words I used to you, and thatI sincerely ask your pardon. "

"'Tis granted with all my heart!" cried Washington, his face illuminedwith that fine smile which always lighted it before any deed of courageor gentleness, and the two shook hands warmly. "'Twas granted before youasked it. I am not such a fire-eater as Tom, back there. I have regrettedthat foolish quarrel many times, and had determined that it should notlead to another meeting between you, which would have been mere folly. Come here, sir, " he called to me. "I wish to tell you how pleased I amthat this quarrel has been adjusted. "

"No more pleased than I, I assure you, colonel, " I laughed. "Lieutenant Allen gave me a sample of his swordsmanship I shall notsoon forget. I should have been as helpless before him as a lamb in thejaws of a tiger. "

"Now you are mocking me!" cried Allen, and as I related to ColonelWashington the story of his little bout with Langlade, we rode onlaughing, the best of friends. 

"But, believe me, Lieutenant Stewart, " he said, when I had finished, "itwas not self-complacency which urged me to take up the foils that day. Imerely wished to show you that you had need to keep in practice, and soprevent you from becoming over-sure. "

"'T was well done, " said Washington heartily. "I appreciate your conduct, Lieutenant Allen. "

"And I certainly took the lesson to heart, " I laughed. "Just before youcame, I had conceived a most exalted opinion of my own abilities. I shallnot make the mistake a second time. "

Presently Allen fell back to rejoin the rear-guard, with which he hadbeen stationed, and we rode on beside the general's litter. He wasdelirious most of the time, and was fighting the battle of theMonongahela over and over again, giving orders and threshing from side toside of his couch in his agony. In one of his intervals of consciousness, he called my companion to him. 

"Colonel Washington, " he said in a low tone, "I feel that I have done yougreat injustice. Had I followed your advice, this catastrophe might nothave happened. But my eyes were not opened until too late. Had I lived, I should not have forgot you. I am sure you cannot withhold your pardonfrom a dying man. "

Washington's lips were trembling as he bent over the litter. 

"If there is anything to pardon, general, " he said softly, "be sure Ipardon you with all my heart. You have the love of all your officers, sir, who revere you as a brave and gallant man. "

"Ay, but a proud and stubborn one, " and he smiled sadly. "Would God I hadhad the grace to see it while it was yet time. Colonel Washington, " headded, "I wish you to have my charger, Bruce, and my body servant, Bishop. These two gentlemen are witnesses that I give them to you. "

Orme and I bowed our assent, and Washington thanked him with a tremblingvoice. He was soon wandering again, this time, apparently, among thescenes of his earlier manhood. 

"Messieurs de la Garde Fran�aise, " he cried, "tirez, s'il vous plait!"

"Ah, " murmured Orme, "he is at Fontenoy. "

And again, --

"Poor Fanny, I always thought she would play till she would be forced totuck herself up. "

"She was his sister, " said Orme, answering our questioning glances. "Sheruined herself at cards and then hanged herself. It was a sad story. "

And yet again, --

"No, I'll not take your purse!" he cried; and then after a moment, "norask my life at your hands. Do what you will. "

I could bear no more, and rode forward out of earshot. To see thisgallant man lying there, slowly dying, bereft at one stroke of life andthat far dearer to him than life, his military reputation, moved me asfew things had ever done. He had another lucid interval toward the middleof the afternoon, and warmly praised the conduct of his officers. 

"They were gallant boys, every one, " he said. "They did their dutyas brave men should. How many of them fell?" he asked suddenly, turning to Orme. 

"Sixteen, " answered Orme sadly. 

"And how many were wounded?"

"Forty-seven. "

"Sixty-three, --and there were only eighty-nine, " and Braddock sighedheavily. "And how went it with the men?"

Orme hesitated, fearing to disclose the extent of the disaster, but thegeneral's eyes were on his and would take no denial. 

"They suffered very heavily, " said Orme at last. "Less than five hundredescaped unharmed. All of the wounded who remained on the field werekilled by the Indians. "

"And we went into battle with near fifteen hundred men, " said Braddock. "Why, it was mere slaughter. There has never an army gone into battlewhich lost such proportion of its numbers. Ah, well, I shall soon jointhem. And they are happier than I, for they went to their end honoredand applauded, whilst I am a broken and ruined man, who will beremembered only to be cursed. "

He turned his head away from us, and a great tear rolled down his cheek. Orme was crying like a child, and made no effort to conceal it, nor wereWashington and I less moved. 

"At least, " he said at last, turning back to us with a smile, "it werebetter to have died than to have lived. I am glad I do not have to live. "

He soon lapsed again into delirium, and seemed to be living over a secondtime a meeting with some woman. 

"Dear Pop, " he said, "we are sent like sacrifices to the altar. They havegiven me a handful of men and expect me to conquer whole nations. I knowthat I shall never see you more. Good-by, Pop, and God bless you. "

Orme turned away for a moment to master his emotion. 

"'T was his last night in London, " he said when he could speak. "He wasto set out on the morrow, and he asked Colonel Burton and myself to gowith him to visit a very dear protegee of his, George Anne Bellamy, theactress, to whom, I think, he has left all his property. He used to heralmost the same words he has just repeated. "

"So he had doubts of his success, " said Washington musingly. "Well, hewas a brave man, for he never permitted them to be seen. "

He was fast growing weaker. His voice faltered and failed, and he laywithout movement in his litter, continuing so until eight o'clock in theevening. We had halted for the night, and had gathered about his couch, watching him as his breathing grew slowly fainter. At last, when wethought him all but gone, he opened his eyes, and seeing the ring ofanxious faces about him, smiled up at them. 

"It is the end, " he said quietly. "You will better know how to deal withthem next time;" and turning his head to one side, he closed his eyes. 

We buried him at daybreak. The grave was dug in the middle of the road, so that the wagons passing over it might efface all trace of itsexistence and preserve it inviolate from the hands of the Indians. Ourchaplain, Mr. Hughes, had been severely wounded, so it was ColonelWashington who read the burial service. I shall not soon forget thatscene, --the open grave in the narrow roadway, the rude coffin draped witha flag, the martial figure within in full uniform, his hands crossed overthe sword on his breast, the riderless charger neighing for its master, and the gray light of the morning over it all. The burial service hasnever sounded more impressively in my ears than it did as read thatmorning, in Colonel Washington's strong, melodious voice, to that littlegroup of listening men, in the midst of the wide, unbroken, whisperingforest. How often have I heard those words of hope and trust in God'spromise to His children, and under what varying circumstances!

We lowered him into the grave, and lingered near until the earth washeaped about it. Then the drums beat the march, the wagons rolled overit, and in half an hour no trace of it remained. So to this day, he liesthere undisturbed in the heart of the wilderness, in a grave which no manknows. Others have railed at him, --have decried him and slanderedhim, --but I remember him as he appeared on that last day of all, a braveand loyal gentleman, not afraid of death, but rather welcoming it, andthe memory is a sweet and dear one. If he made mistakes, he paid for themthe uttermost penalty which any man could pay, --and may he rest in peace. 

Of the remainder of that melancholy flight little need be said. Westruggled on through the wilderness, bearing our three hundred woundedwith us as best we could, and marking our path with their shallow graves, as they succumbed one after another to the hardships of the journey. Onthe twenty-second day of July we reached Fort Cumberland, and I learnedwith amazement that Dunbar did not propose to stop here, although he hadplaced near a hundred and fifty miles between him and the enemy, but tocarry his whole army to Philadelphia, leaving Virginia open to Indian andFrench invasion by the very road which we had made. He alleged that hemust go into winter quarters, and that, too, though it was just theheight of summer. Colonel Washington ventured to protest against thisfolly, but was threatened with court-martial, and came out of Dunbar'squarters red with anger and chagrin. 

And sure enough, on the second of August, Dunbar marched away with allhis effective men, twelve hundred strong, leaving at the fort all hissick and wounded and the Virginia and Maryland troops, over whom heattempted to exercise no control. I bade good-by to Orme and Allen andsuch other of the officers as I had met. Colonel Burton took occasion tocome to me the night before he marched, and presented me with a veryhandsome sword in token of his gratitude, as he said, for saving hislife, --an exploit, as I pointed out to him, small enough beside a hundredothers that were done that day. 

The sword he gave me hangs above my desk as I write. I am free to confessthat I have performed no great exploits with it, and when I took it downfrom its hook the other day to look at it, I found that it had rusted inits scabbard. 

CHAPTER XXI

VIRGINIA BIDS US WELCOME

"To my mind, there is only one thing to be done. That is to retire. "

The speaker was Colonel Henry Innes, commandant of the fort, but as helooked up and down the row of faces opposite him, he saw few which showedassent. Scarcely had the rear-guard of Dunbar's troops disappeared amongthe trees which lined the narrow military road, when Colonel Innes hadcalled this meeting of the officers left at the fort, "to decide, " as thesummons put it, "on our future course of action. " As if, I thoughtindignantly to myself, there could be any question as to what our futurecourse of action should be. 

"We are left here, " continued the speaker, in a louder voice and growingsomewhat red in the face, "with scarce five hundred men, all provincials, and most of them unfit for service. A great part of the army's equipmenthas been abandoned or destroyed back there in the woods. In short, we areso weak that we can hope neither to advance against the enemy nor torepel an assault, should they march against us in force, as they are mostlike to do. "

For a moment there was an ominous silence. 

"May I ask what it is you propose, Colonel Innes?" asked CaptainWaggoner at last. 

"I propose to abandon the place, " replied Innes, "and to fall back toWinchester or some other point where our wounded may lie in safety andour men have opportunity to recover from the fatigues of the campaign. "

Again there was a moment's silence, and all of us, as by a commonimpulse, glanced at Colonel Washington, who sat at one end of the table, his head bowed in gloomy thought. The fever, which he had shaken off fora time, had been brought back by the arduous work he had insisted onperforming, and he was but the shadow of his former self. He felt oureyes upon him and suddenly raised his head. 

"Do you really anticipate that the French will march against us, ColonelInnes?" he asked quietly. "There were scarce three hundred of them at thefort three weeks ago, hardly enough for an expedition of such moment, andit is not likely that they can be reinforced to undertake any campaignthis summer. "

"There would be little danger from the French themselves, " retortedInnes, with an angry flush, "but they will undoubtedly rally the Indians, and lead them against us along the very road which Braddock cut over themountains. Fort Cumberland stands at one end of that road. "

Washington smiled disdainfully. 

"I have heard of few instances, " he said, "where Indians have daredattack a well-manned fortification, and of none where they have capturedone. To retreat from here would be to leave our whole frontier open totheir ravages, and would be an act of cowardice more contemptible thanthat which Colonel Dunbar performed this morning, when he marched histroops away. "

I had never seen him so moved, and I caught the infection of his anger. 

"Colonel Washington is right!" I cried hotly. "Our place is here. "

Innes did not so much as look at me. His eyes were on Washington, and hisface was very red. 

"Colonel Washington, " he sneered, his lips curling away from his teethwith rage, "was, I believe, an aide on the general's staff. Since thegeneral is dead, that position no longer exists. Consequently, ColonelWashington is no longer an officer of the army, and I fail to see whatright he has to take part in this discussion. "

Half a dozen of us were on our feet in an instant, but Washington wasbefore us and waved us back with a motion of his hand. 

"Colonel Innes is right, " he said, his deep-set eyes gleaming like twocoals of fire. "I am no longer an officer of the army, and I thank Godthis is so, since it is about to further disgrace itself. "

"Take care, sir, " cried Innes, springing to his feet. "You forget thereis such a thing as court-martial. "

"And you forget that I am no longer of the army, and so can defy itsdiscipline. "

He stood for a moment longer looking Innes in the eyes, and then, without saluting, turned on his heel and left the place. A moment laterthe council broke up in confusion, for Innes saw plainly that thesentiment of nearly all the other officers present was against him, andhe did not choose to give it opportunity of expression. I had scarcelyreached my quarters when I received a note from his secretary statingthat as the mortality among the Virginia companies had been so heavy, ithad been decided to unite the three into one, and my lieutenancy wastherefore abolished. Trembling with anger, I hurried to Washington'squarters and laid the note before him. 

"Why, Tom, " he said, with a short laugh, after he had read it, "we seemto have fallen into disgrace together. But come, " he added morecheerfully, seeing my downcast face, "do not despair. We may yet win out. The governor and the House of Burgesses will not receive so quietly thisproject to retire from the frontier. I had a letter from Dinwiddie butthe other day, in which he said as much. In the mean time, I am goinghome to Mount Vernon to rest, and you must come with me. "

I accepted readily enough, for I knew not what else to do, and on themorrow we set out. Colonel Washington was so ill that we could proceedbut slowly. We finally reached Winchester, and from there, because of thebetter road, crossed the river to Frederick, where a great surpriseawaited us. For scarcely were we off our horses at the little tavern, than the host, learning our names, rushed away down the wide, ramblingstreet, crying the news aloud, to our great wonderment, who saw not whyit should interest any one. In an incredibly short time, above a hundredpeople had gathered before the inn, cheering and hallooing with all theirmight, while we looked at them in dumb amazement. We sent for the host tolearn what this might mean, thinking doubtless there was some mistake, and even as he entered, a dozen men burst into the room, and insistedthat we should not be permitted for a moment to think of putting up at aninn, but should accompany them home. 

"But, gentlemen, " protested Washington, "you have mistaken us for someone else. We have done nothing to deserve your hospitality. "

"Have you not?" they cried, and they hustled us out into the yard. Therewas no denying them, so off we rode again, greatly bewildered, and in thecourse of half an hour were being introduced by our self-appointedentertainer to his wife and three pretty daughters. 

"'T is Colonel Washington, you understand, wife, " he cried. "ColonelWashington, whose advice, had it been followed, would have saved theexpedition. "

A great light broke upon me. So my friend's merits were to be recognizedat last, --were to win him something more than contumely and insult, --andas he would have made denial, I cut him short. 

"Do not listen to him!" I cried. "'T is true, every word of it, and muchmore besides. "

Whereat the girls smiled at me very sweetly, our host wrung my handagain, and I swear there were tears in Washington's eyes as he looked atme in feigned anger. Such a night's entertainment as was given us I shallnot soon forget, nor Colonel Washington either, I dare say. Word of ourpresence had got about the neighborhood with singular speed, and thepeople flocked in by dozens, until the great hallway, which ran throughthe house from front to rear, was crowded from end to end. Then, nothingwould do but that Colonel Washington must tell the story of the advance, the ambuscade, and the retreat, which he did with such consummateslighting of his own part in the campaign that I interrupted him in greatindignation, and, unheeding his protests, related some of the thingsconcerning him which I have already written, and which, I swear, werevery well received. 

"But Lieutenant Stewart says nothing of what he himself did, " criedWashington, when I had finished. 

"Because I did nothing worth relating, " I retorted, my cheeks hot withembarrassment at the way they looked at me. 

"Ask him how he won that sword he wears at his side, " he continued, notheeding my interruption, his eyes twinkling at my discomfiture. "Believeme, 'tis not many Virginia officers can boast such a fine one. "

And then, of course, they all demanded that he tell the story, which hedid with an exaggeration that I considered little less than shameful. In some mysterious manner, tankards of cold, bitter Dutch beer, thekind that is so refreshing after a journey or at the close of a hotday's work, had found their way into the right hand of every manpresent, and as Washington ended the story and I was yet denying, ourhost sprang to his feet. 

"We'll drink to the troops of Maryland and Virginia, " he cried, "whobehaved like soldiers and died like men, teaching England's redcoats alesson they will not soon forget, and to two of the bravest among them, Colonel Washington and Lieutenant Stewart!"

It was done with a cheer that made the old hall ring, and when, half anhour later, I found myself beside the prettiest of the three daughters ofthe house, I was not yet quite recovered. Only this I can say, --it is apleasant thing to be a hero, though trying to the nerves. I had only theone experience, and did not merit that, as the reader has doubtlessdecided for himself. 

Of course there was a dance, --what merrymaking would be complete withoutone?--and Colonel Washington walked a minuet with a certain MistressPatience Burd, with a grace which excited the admiration of every swainin the room, and the envy of not a few, --myself among the number, for Iwas ever but a clumsy dancer, and on this occasion no doubt greatly vexedmy pretty partner. But every night must end, as this one did at last. Colonel Washington was much better next morning, for his illness had beenmore of the mind than of the body, and our kind reception had donewonders to banish his vexation. Our friends bade us Godspeed, and we rodeon our way southward. I never saw the house again, and it is one of mygreat regrets and reasons for self-reproach that I have forgot the nameof the honest man who was our host that night, and remember only that thename of his prettiest daughter was Betty. 

As we reached a part of the country which was more closely settled, Isoon perceived that however great dishonor had accrued to British armsand British reputations as the result of that battle by the Monongahela, Colonel Washington had won only respect and admiration by his consistentand courageous conduct. We were stopped a hundred times by people whoasked first for news, and when they heard my companion's name, vied withone another to do him honor. It did me good to see how he brightenedunder these kind words and friendly acts, and how the color came againinto his face and the light into his eyes. And I hold that this was as itshould be, for I know of nothing of which a man may be more justly proudthan of the well-earned praises of his fellows. 

At last, toward the evening of a sultry August day, we turned our horses'heads into the wide road which led up to Mount Vernon, and drew near tothat hospitable and familiar mansion. News of our approach must havepreceded us, for there, drawn up in line, were the bowing and grinningnegroes, while at the entrance gate were Mrs. Washington and herchildren, as well as a dozen families assembled from as many milesaround to do honor to the returning warrior. My heart beat more quicklyas I ran my eyes over this gathering, but fell again when I saw that thefamily from Riverview was not there. 

And such a greeting as it was! We all remained a space apart until Mrs. Washington had kissed her son, as something too sacred for our intrusion. But when he turned to greet his neighbors, I have rarely seen suchgenuine emotion shown even in our whole-hearted Virginia. At the greatdinner which followed, with Mrs. Washington at the head of the table andher son at the foot, we told again the story of the campaign, and the menforgot to sip their wine until the tale was ended. Yet with all thislargess of goodwill, I was not wholly happy. For I had no home to go to, nor was there any waiting to welcome me, and the woman I loved seemedfarther away than ever, though now she was so near. 

CHAPTER XXII

A NEW DANGER AT RIVERVIEW

But Dorothy was not so near as I had thought, for next morning came amessage from my aunt. It was delivered almost as soon as I was out of bedby a negro boy who had ridden over at daybreak. It was dated but two daysbefore, and began very formally. 

"Sir, " it ran, "since you no doubt will wish to recuperate from thefatigues of the campaign so unfortunately ended, and as there is no placewhere you can do this so well as at Riverview, I hasten to assure youthat the place is entirely at your service. "

I paused a moment to get my breath. Her reference to the campaign wasintended as a stab, of course, yet could it be she was relenting? Buthope fell as I read on. 

"In order that you may feel at liberty to avail yourself of thisinvitation, " the note continued, "my daughter and I have accepted one oflong standing to spend a month, or perhaps two months, at the home of arelative. James is at Williamsburg, so that you may be entirely free tooccupy your leisure at Riverview as best pleases you. Do not think thatyou have driven us from the place, for that is not at all the case. Ihave long felt the need of rest, and take advantage of this opportunity, while there is little doing on the plantation, to secure it. I trust toyour sense of honor to make no inquiries as to where we are stopping, norto attempt to see my daughter, who, I believe, has already discoveredthat any fancy she may ever have seemed to entertain for you was moreimaginary than real. "

Here was a blow, straight from the shoulder, and I winced under it. 

"I could never consent, " the note concluded, "to any attachment of aserious nature between you, having quite other views for my daughter, which, I am sure, will be for her happiness and well-being. "

I read the note through a second time before I realized what a blow itgave to all my hopes. I had had little cause to anticipate any othertreatment, it is true, and yet I have often observed that men hope mostwho have least reason for it, and this was so in my case. As I read thenote again, I could not but admire the adroitness of its author. She hadplaced me upon honor--without my consent, 't is true--to make no effortto see Dorothy. I stood biting my lips with anger and vexation, and then, with sudden resolve, turned back to the messenger. 

"Go around to the kitchen and get something to eat, if you are hungry, " Isaid to him. "I shall be ready to ride back with you in half an hour;"and as he disappeared around a corner of the house, agrin from ear toear at the prospect of refreshment, I sought Mrs. Washington and told herthat I had just received a note from my aunt and would ride to Riverviewat once. How much she suspected of my difference with my aunt, I do notknow, but if she experienced any surprise at my sudden departure, shecertainly did not show it, saying only that she regretted that I must goso soon, and that I must always consider Mount Vernon no less my homethan Riverview, --an assurance which Colonel Washington repeated when themoment came to say good-by, and I rode away at last with a very tenderfeeling in my heart for those two figures which stood there on the stepsuntil I turned into the road and passed from sight. 

"And how is everything at Riverview, Sam?" I asked of the boy, as westruck into the road and settled our horses into an easy canter. He didnot answer for a moment, and when I glanced at him to see the cause ofhis silence, I was astonished to find him rolling his eyes about asthough he saw a ghost. 

"What's the matter, boy?" I asked sharply. "Come, speak out. What is it?"

He looked behind him and all around into the woods, and then urged hishorse close to mine. 

"Mas' Tom, " he said, almost in a whisper, "dere's gwine t' be hell at d'plantation foh long. Youse stay 'way fum it. "

I looked at him, still more astonished by his singular behavior. Afull-blooded negro does not turn pale, but under the influence of greatterror his skin grows spotted and livid. Sam's was livid at that moment. 

"See here, Sam, " I said sharply, "if you have anything to tell, I wantyou to tell me right away. What are you afraid of?"

"D' witch man, " he whispered, his eyes almost starting from his head, andhis forehead suddenly beading with perspiration. 

"The witch man? Has a witch man come to Riverview?"

He nodded. 

"And what is he doing there, Sam?"

"He says d' French dun whopped d' English, an' a-comin' t' set all d'niggahs free. He says we mus' holp, an' dere won't be no mo' slaves. Allub us be free, jus' like white folks. "

It took me a minute or two to grasp the full meaning of thisextraordinary revelation. 

"He says the French are coming to set all the niggers free?" I repeated. 

Sam nodded. 

"And that the niggers must help them?"

Again Sam nodded. 

"Help them how, Sam?"

He hesitated. 

"By killing the English, Sam?"

"I reckon dat 's it, " he said reluctantly. 

"And burning down their houses, perhaps?"

"I 'se hearn dat talked erboat, too. "

I drew my horse in with a jerk, and catching Sam's by the bridle, pulled it to me. 

"Now, boy, " I said, "you must tell me all about this. I promise you thatno one shall harm you. "

He began to whimper. 

"I'll tell yo', Mas' Tom, " he stuttered, "but yo' mus' n' hurt d'witch man. "

"Who is this witch man?" I demanded. 

"Ole uncle Polete. "

"Polete's no witch man. Why, Sam, you 've known him all your life. He'snothing but an ordinary old nigger. He's been on the plantation twenty orthirty years. All that he needs is a good whipping. "

But the boy only shook his head and sobbed the more. 

"Ef he's a-killed, " he cried, "his ha'nt 'll come back fo' me. "

I saw in a moment what the boy was afraid of. It was not of oldPolete in the flesh, but in the spirit. I thought for a moment. Well, I had no reason to wish Polete any harm, yet if it were discoveredthat he had been inciting the slaves to insurrection, there was nopower in the colony could save his life. If his owner did not executehim, the governor would take the matter out of his hands, and orderit done himself. 

"I tell you what I'll do, Sam, " I said at last. "You tell me everythingyou know, and I'll do all I can to save Polete. I believe I can stop thisthing without calling in any outside help. "

He agreed to this, and as we jogged along I gradually drew the details ofthe plot from him. The news of our defeat had, it seemed, stirred up thenegroes at the plantation, and in some way the wild rumor had beenstarted that a great force of French was marching over the mountains toconquer Virginia and all the other English colonies; that emissaries hadcome to the negroes and promised them that if they would assist theinvading army, they would be given their freedom and half of the colonyto live in. It was at this time that old Polete, crazed, perhaps, byworking in the tobacco fields under the blazing sun, had suddenlydeveloped into a witch man, and proclaimed that he could see the Frencharmy marching, and urged the negroes to strike a blow at once in order tomerit their freedom when the French should come. Meetings were heldalmost nightly in the woods some miles from their cabins, whence theystole away after dark by twos and threes. Just what their plans were Samdid not know, as he did not belong to the inner council, but he believedthat something would happen soon because of the increasing excitement ofthe older negroes who were acquainted with the plans. 

I rode on for some time in silence, thinking over this story and tryingto decide what I would better do. I did not know until months later thatsigns of unrest had been observed among the slaves all over the colony, and that the governor had considered the situation so serious that he hadsent out many warnings concerning the danger. It was as well, perhaps, that I did not know this then, for I might not have thought my ownportion of the problem so easy of solution. At the time, I had nothought but that the outbreak was the result of old Polete's prophecies, and was confined alone to Riverview. 

Sam was cantering along behind me, his face still livid with terror, andas I caught sight of it again, I wondered what impulse it was had movedhim to confide in me, with such fancied peril to himself. 

"I would n' tole nobody else, " he said, in answer to my question, "butyou tole a lie fo' me oncet, an' saved me a lickin'. "

"Told a lie for you, Sam?" I questioned in astonishment. "When was that?"

"Don' yo' 'membah boat d' whip, Mas' Tom, what I stole?" he asked. 

I looked at him for a moment before that incident of my boyhood cameback to me. 

"Why, yes, I remember it now, " I said. "But that was years ago, Sam, andI had forgotten it. Besides, I didn't tell a lie for you. I only told oldGump that I wished to give you the whip. "

"Well, " said Sam, looking at me doubtfully, "yo' saved me a lickin'anyhow, an' I did n' f 'git it, " and he dropped back again. 

Well, to be sure, an act of thoughtfulness or mercy never hurts a man, afact which I have since learned for myself a hundred times, and wish allmen realized. 

We were soon at Riverview, and I ordered Sam to ride out to the fieldwhere the men were working, and tell the overseer, Long, that I wished tosee him. Sam departed on the errand, visibly uneasy, and I wandered frommy room, where I had taken my pack, along the hall and into my aunt'sbusiness room while I waited his return. I stood again for a moment atthe spot on the staircase where I had kissed Dorothy that morning, --itseemed ages ago, --and as I looked up, I fancied I could still see hersweet face gazing down at me. But it was only fancy, and, with a sigh, Iturned away and went down through the hall. 

There were reminders of her at every turn, --there was the place where shehad sat sewing in the evenings; over the fireplace hung a little pictureshe had painted, rude enough, no doubt, but beautiful to my eyes. With asudden impulse, I ran down the steps and to the old seat under the oaksby the river. Nothing had changed, --even the shadows across the waterseemed to be the same. But as I ran my hand mechanically along the arm ofthe seat on the side where Dorothy always sat my fingers felt a roughnesswhich had not been there before, and as I looked to see what this mightbe, I saw that some one had cut in the wood a T and a D, intertwined, andcircled by a tiny heart. Who could have done it? I had no need to askmyself the question. My heart told me that no one but Dorothy could havedone it, and that she knew that I should come and sit here and live overagain the long evenings when she had sat beside me. It was a message frommy love, and with trembling lips I bent and kissed the letters which shehad carved. As I sat erect again, I heard footsteps behind me, and turnedto see Long approaching. 

"You sent for me, Mr. Stewart?" he asked. "I saw you sitting here, anddecided you were waiting for me. "

"Yes, " I said, and I shook hands with him, for he was an honest man and agood workman. 

"I am glad to see you back again, sir, though looking so ill, " he added. "I trust the air of Riverview will soon bring you around all right, " andfrom his eyes I knew he meant it. 

I thanked him, and bade him sit beside me. Then, in a few words, Itold him what I had learned of the negro meetings, and saw his facegrow grave. 

"'Tis what I have always feared, " he said, when I had finished. "Thereare too many of them in the colony, and they feel their strength. If theyhad a leader and a chance to combine, they might do a great deal of harm. However, we shall soon knock this in the head. "

"How?" I asked. 

"Make an example of Polete, " he answered decidedly. "That's the best way, sir. Put him out of the way, let the other niggers see us do it, andthey'll quiet down fast enough. "

"Undoubtedly that is the easiest way, " I said, smiling, "but, unfortunately, I had to promise the person who gave me the informationthat Polete should not be harmed. "

Long stared at me for a moment in amazement. 

"It would be unfortunate if any of the other planters should hear of thatpromise, Mr. Stewart, " he said at last. "They would probably takePolete's case into their own hands. "

I laughed at his evident concern. 

"No doubt, " I said, "but they are not going to hear of it. I intendtelling no one but yourself, for we two are quite sufficient to stop thisthing right here, and it need go no further. "

"Perhaps we are, " he answered doubtfully. "What is your plan, sir?"

"Polete will hold a meeting to-night over there in the woods. Well, wewill be present at the meeting. "

He looked at me without saying a word. "Our visit will probably not bevery welcome, " I continued, "but I believe it will produce the desiredeffect. Will you go with me?"

"Certainly, " he answered readily, "but I still think my plan thebest, sir. "

"Perhaps it is, " I laughed, "but we will try mine first, " and he wentback to the field, agreeing to be at the house at eight o'clock. 

I covered with my hand the tiny letters on the arm of the bench, and, looking out across the broad river, drifted into the land of dreams, where Dorothy and I wandered together along a primrose path, with none tointerfere. 

CHAPTER XXIII

THE GOVERNOR SHOWS HIS GRATITUDE

I ate my supper in solitary splendor in the old dining-room, with mygrandfather's portrait looking down upon me, and Long found me an hourlater sitting in the midst of a wreath of smoke just within the hallwayout of the river mist. 

"'T was as you said, Mr. Stewart, " he remarked, as he joined me. "Fully ahundred of the niggers stole off to the woods to-night so soon as it wasdark. They went down toward the old Black Snake swamp. "

"Very well, " I said, rising. "Wait till I get my hat, and I am with you. "

"But you will go armed?" he asked anxiously. 

I paused to think for a moment. 

"No, I will not, " I said finally. "A brace of pistols would availnothing against that mob, should they choose to resist us, and our goingunarmed will have a great moral effect upon them as showing them that weare not afraid. "

"You have weighed fully the extent of the risk you are about to run, Ihope, sir, " protested Long. 

"Fully, " I answered. "'T is not yet too late for you to turn back, youknow. I have no right to ask you to endanger your life to carry out thisplan of mine. Perhaps it would be wiser for you not to go. "

"And if I stay, you"--

"Will go alone, " I said. 

He caught my hand and wrung it heartily. 

"You are a brave man, Mr. Stewart, " he exclaimed. "If I have shown anyhesitation, 't was on your account, not on my own. I am ready to go withyou, " and as he spoke, he drew a brace of pistols from beneath his coatand laid them on the table by the fireplace. 

"Wait one moment, " I said, and hurrying to my aunt's room, I wrote ashort note telling her of the trouble I had discovered and where Long andI were going, so that, if we did not return, she would know what hadhappened. Folding and sealing it, I wrote on the outside, "To bedelivered at once to Mrs. Stewart, " left it on the table, knowing that noone would enter the room till morning, and hurried back to rejoin Long. We were off without further words, and were soon well on our way. 

It was a clear, cool, summer night, with the breeze just stirring in thetrees and keeping up a faint, unceasing whispering among the leaves. Themoon had risen some hours before, and sailed upward through a cloudlesssky. Even under the trees it was not wholly dark, for the moon's lightfiltered through here and there, making a quaint patchwork on the ground, and filling the air with a peculiar iridescence which transformed theragged trunks of the sycamores into fantastic hobgoblins. All about usrose the croaking of the frogs, dominating all the other noises of thenight, and uniting in one mighty chorus in the marshes along the river. An owl was hooting from a distant tree, and the hum of innumerableinsects sounded on every side. Here and there a glittering, dew-spangledcobweb stretched across our path, a barrier of silver, and required morethan ordinary resolution to be brushed aside. As we turned nearer to theriver, the ground grew softer and the underbrush more thick, and I knewthat we had reached the swamp. 

Then, in a moment, it seemed to me that I could hear some faint, monotonous singsong rising above all the rest. At first I thought it wasthe croaking of a monster frog, but as we plodded on and the sound grewmore distinct, I knew it could not be that. At last, in sheer perplexity, I stopped and motioned Long to listen. 

"Do you hear it?" I asked. "Do you know what it is?"

"Yes, I have heard it for the last ten minutes, Mr. Stewart, " heanswered quietly. "It is old Polete preaching to the niggers. I haveoften heard their so-called witch men preach. It is always in a singsongjust like that. "

As we drew nearer, I perceived that this was true, for I could catch thetones of the speaker's voice, and in a few minutes could distinguish hiswords. Some years before, when the river had been in flood, its currenthad been thrown against this bank by a landslide on the other side, andhad washed away trees and underbrush for some distance. The underbrushhad soon sprung up again, but the clearing still remained, and as westopped in the shadow of the trees and looked across it, we saw asingular sight. Negroes to the number of at least a hundred and fiftywere gathered about a pile of logs on which Polete was mounted. He wasshouting in a monotone, his voice rising and falling in regular cadence, his eyes closed, his head tilted back, his face turned toward the moon, whose light silvered his hair and beard and gave a certain majesty to hisappearance. His hearers were seemingly much affected, and interrupted himfrom time to time with shouts and groans and loud amens. 

"Dis is d' promise' lan'!" cried old Polete, waving his arms above hishead in a wild ecstasy. "All we hab t' do is t' raise up an' take it fromouh 'pressahs. Ef we stays hyah slaves, it's ouh own fault. Now's d''pinted time. D' French is ma'chin' obah d' mountings t' holp us. Dee'lldrib d' English into d' sea, and wese t' hab ouh freedom, --ouh freedoman' plenty lan' t' lib on. "

"Dat's it, " shouted some one, "an' we gwine t' holp, suah!"

The negroes were so intent upon their speaker that they did not perceiveus until we were right among them, and even then for a few minutes, as weforced our way through the mob, no one knew us. 

"It's Mas' Tom!" yelled one big fellow, as my hat was knocked from myhead. And, as if by instinct, they crowded back on either side, and apath was opened before us to the pile of logs where Polete stood. Hegaped at us amazedly as we clambered up toward him, and I saw that he waslicking his lips convulsively. A yell from the crowd greeted us as weappeared beside him, --a menacing yell, which died away into a lowgrowling, and foretold an approaching storm. 

"Now, boys, " I cried, "I want you to listen to me for a minute. That is alie about the French coming over the mountains, --every word of it. IfPolete here, who, you know, is only a laborer like most of you, says hehas seen them coming in a vision, why he's simply lying to you, or hedoesn't know what he's talking about. There are not three hundredFrenchmen the other side of the mountains, in the first place, and itwill be winter before they can get any more there. So if you fight, youwill have to fight alone, and you can guess how much chance of successyou have. You know the penalty for insurrection. It's death, and not aneasy death, either, --death by fire! If you go ahead with this thing, nopower on earth can save every one of you from the stake. "

"It's a lie!" yelled Polete. "I did hab d' vision. I did see d' Frencha-comin'--millions o' dem--all a-ma'chin' t'rough d' forest. Dee's almosthyah. Dee want us t' holp. "

A hoarse yell interrupted him, and I saw that something must be done. 

"Wait a minute, boys, " I cried. "Let me ask Polete a question. You sayyou have seen the French marching, Polete?"

He nodded sullenly. 

"What was the color of their uniforms?"

He hesitated a moment, but saw he must answer. 

"Dee was all colors, " he said. "Red, blue, green, --all colors. "

I saw that my moment of triumph was at hand. 

"Now, boys, " I cried, holding up my hand so that all might be quiet andhear my words. "You may guess how much value there is in Polete'svisions. He says he has seen the French army marching, and he has justtold me that their uniforms are all colors, --red, blue, green, and so on. Now, if he has seen the army, he ought to know the color of the uniforms, ought he not?"

"Yes, yes, " yelled the mob. 

"Well, boys, " I continued, "the French wear only one color uniform, andthat color is just the one which Polete has not mentioned--white. NoFrenchman goes to war except in a white uniform. "

They were all silent for a moment, and I saw them eyeing Poletedistrustfully. 

But he was foaming at the mouth with fury. 

"A lie!" he screamed. "A lie, same's de uddah. Don' yo' see what we mus'do? Kill 'em! Kill 'em, an' nobody else'll evah know!"

That low growling which I had heard before again ran through the crowd. Imust play my last card. 

"You fools!" I cried, "do you suppose we are the only ones who know? Ifso much as a hair of our heads is touched, if we are not back among ourfriends safe and sound when morning comes, every dog among you will yelphis life out with a circle of fire about him!"

They were whining now, and I knew I had them conquered. 

"I came here to-night to save you, " I went on, after a moment. "Returnnow quietly to your quarters, and nothing more will be said about thisgathering. Put out of your minds once for all the hope that the Frenchwill help you, for it is a lie. And let this be the last time you hold ameeting here, or I will not answer for the consequences. "

I waved them away with my hand, and they slunk off by twos and threesuntil all of them had disappeared in the shadow of the wood. 

"And now, what shall we do with this cur?" asked Long, in a low voice, atmy elbow. I turned and saw that he had old Polete gripped by the collar. "He tried to run away, " he added, "but I thought you might have somethingto say to him. "

Polete was as near collapse as a man could be and yet be conscious. Hewas trembling like a leaf, his eyes were bloodshot, and his lower jaw wasworking convulsively. He turned an imploring gaze on me, and tried tospeak, but could not. 

"Polete, " I said sternly, "I suppose you know that if this night's workgets out, as it is certain to do sooner or later, no power on earth cansave your life?"

"Yes, massa, " he muttered, and looked about him wildly, as though healready saw the flames at his feet. 

"Well, Polete, " I went on, "after the way you have acted to-night, I seeno reason why I should try to save you. You certainly did all you couldto get me killed. "

"Yes, massa, " he said again, and would have fallen had not Long held himupright by the collar. 

I waited a moment, for I thought he was going to faint, but he opened hiseyes again and fixed them on me. 

"Now listen, " I went on, when he appeared able to understand me. "I'mnot going to kill you. I'm going to give you a chance for yourlife, --not a very big chance, perhaps, but a great deal better one thanyou would have here. "

"Yes, massa, " he said a third time, and there was a gleam of hopein his face. 

"I'm going to let you go, " I concluded. "I'd advise you to follow theriver till you get beyond the settlements, and then try for Pennsylvania. I promise you there'll be no pursuit, but if you ever show your facearound here again, you're as good as dead. "

Before I had finished, he had fallen to his knees and bowed his head uponmy feet, with a peculiar reverence, --a relic, I suppose, of his life inAfrica. He was blubbering like a baby when he looked up at me. 

"I'll nevah f'git yeh, Mas' Tom, " he said. "I'll nevah f'git yeh. "

"That'll do, uncle, " and I caught him by the collar and pulled him tohis feet. "I don't want to see you killed, but you'd better get away fromhere as fast as you can, and drop this witch man business for good andall. Here's two shillings. They'll get you something to eat when you getto Pennsylvania, but you'd better skirmish along in the woods the bestyou can till then, or you'll be jerked up for a runaway. "

He murmured some inarticulate words, --of gratitude, perhaps, --andslid down from the pile of logs. We watched him until he plunged intothe woods to the south of the clearing, and then started back towardthe house. I was busy with my own thoughts as we went, and Long wasalso silent, so that scarcely a word passed between us until wereached the steps. 

"Sit down a minute, Long, " I said, as he started back to his quarters. "Idon't believe we'll have any more trouble with those fellows, but perhapsit would be well to watch them. "

"Trust me for that, sir, " he answered. "I'll see to it that there are nomore meetings of that kind. With Polete away, there is little danger. Theonly question is whether he will stay away. "

"I think he will, " and I looked out over the river thoughtfully. "Heseemed to understand the danger he was in. If he returns, you will haveto deliver him up to the authorities at once, of course. "

"Well, " said Long, "I'm not a bloodthirsty man, sir, as perhaps you know, but I think we'd be safer if he were dead. Still, we'll be safe enoughanyway, now the niggers know their plot is discovered. But we were in aticklish place there for a while this evening. "

"Yes, " I answered, with a smile. "It was not so easy as I had expected. Iwant to thank you, Long, for going with me. It was a service on your partwhich showed you have the interest of the place at heart, and are notafraid of danger. "

"That's all right, sir, " he said awkwardly. "Good-night. "

"Wait till I get your pistols, " I said. "You left them in the hall, you know. "

The moonlight was streaming through the open window, and as I steppedinto the hall, I rubbed my eyes, for I thought I must be dreaming. Therein a great chair before the fireplace sat Colonel Washington. His headhad fallen back, his eyes were closed, and from his deep and regularbreathing I knew that he was sleeping. Marveling greatly at his presencehere at this hour, I tiptoed around him, got Long's pistols, and tookthem out to him. Then I lighted my pipe and sat down in a chair oppositethe sleeper, and waited for him to awake. I had not long to wait. Whetherfrom my eyes on his face, or some other cause, he stirred uneasily, opened his eyes, and sat suddenly bolt upright. 

"Why, Tom, " he cried, as he saw me, "I must have been asleep. "

"So you have, " I said, shaking hands with him, and pressing him back intothe chair, from which he would have risen. "But what fortunate chancehas brought you here?"

"The most fortunate in the world!" he cried, his eyes agleam. "You know Itold you that the governor and House of Burgesses would not bear quietlythe project to leave our frontier open to the enemy. Well, read this, "and he drew from his pocket a most formidable looking paper. I took itwith a trembling hand and carried it to the window, but the moon wasalmost set, and I could not decipher it. 

"What is it?" I asked, quivering with impatience. 

"Here, give it to me, " he said, with a light laugh, which reminded me ofthe night I had seen him first in the governor's palace at Williamsburg. "The House of Burgesses has just met. They ordered that a regiment of athousand men be raised to protect the frontier in addition to thosealready in the field, and voted �20, 000 for the defense of the colony. "

"And that is your commission!" I cried. "Is it not so?"

"Yes, " he said, scarce less excited than myself. "'Tis my commission ascommander-in-chief of all the Virginia forces. "

I wrung his hand with joy unutterable. At last this man, who had done somuch, was to know something beside disappointment and discouragement. 

"But you do not ask how you are concerned in all this, " he continued, smiling into my face, "or why I rode over myself to bring the news toyou. 'Tis because I set out to-morrow at daybreak for Winchester to takecommand, and I wish you to go with me, Tom, as aide-de-camp, with therank of captain. "

CHAPTER XXIV

A WARNING FROM THE FOREST

It was at Winchester that Colonel Washington established hisheadquarters, maintaining a detachment at Fort Cumberland sufficient torepel any attack the Indians were like to make against it, and to cut offsuch of their war parties as ventured east of it. From Winchester he wasable more easily to keep in touch with all parts of the frontier, andwith the string of blockhouses which had been built years before as agathering-place for the settlers in the event of Indian incursions. Bythe first of September his arrangements had been completed, but longbefore that time it was evident the task was to be no easy one. 

Already, from the high passes of the Alleghenies, war parties ofDelawares and Shawanoes had descended, sweeping down upon the frontierfamilies like a devastating whirlwind, and butchering men, women, andchildren with impartial fury. The unbounded forest, which covered hilland valley with a curtain of unbroken foliage, afforded a thousandlurking-places, and it was well-nigh impossible for an armed force to getwithin striking distance of the marauders. So, almost daily, stories ofhorrible cruelty came to the fort, plunging the commander into an agonyof rage and dejection at his very impotence. The fort was soon crowdedwith refugees, --wives bewailing their husbands, husbands swearing toavenge their wives, parents lamenting their children, children of asudden made orphans, --and from north and south, scores of hard-featured, steel-eyed men came to us, their rifles in their hands, to offer theirservices, and after a time these came to be one of the most valuableportions of our force. 

Ah, the stories they told us! Tragedies such as that which Spiltdorph andI had come upon had been repeated scores of times. The settler who hadleft his cabin at daybreak in search of game, or to carry his furs to thenearest post, returned at sundown to find only a smoking heap of asheswhere his home had been, and among them the charred and mutilated bodiesof his wife and children. Horror succeeded horror, and the climax cameone day when we were passing a little schoolhouse some miles below thefort, in the midst of a district well populated. Wondering at theunwonted silence, we dismounted, opened the door, and looked within. Themaster lay upon the platform with his pupils around him, all dead andnewly scalped. The savages had passed that way not half an hour before. 

And to add to the trials of the commander, his troops, hastily gottogether, were most of them impatient of restraint or discipline, andwith no knowledge of warfare, while the governor and the House ofBurgesses demanded that he undertake impossibilities. It was a dreary, trying, thankless task. 

"They expect me to perform miracles, " he said to me bitterly one day. "How am I to protect a frontier four hundred miles in length with five orsix hundred effective men, against an enemy who knows every foot of theground, and who can find a hiding-place at every step?"

Only by the sternest measures could many of the levies be brought to thefort, and one man--a captain, God save the mark!--sent word that he andhis company could not come because their corn had not yet been got in. Yet, in spite of all these drawbacks, we did accomplish something. Therewere a few of the Iroquois who yet remained our friends, and the generalspared no effort to retain their goodwill, for their services wereinvaluable. With a lofty contempt for the Delawares and Shawanoes, whomthey had one time subjugated and compelled to assume the name of women, they roamed the forest for miles around, and more than once enabled us toambush one of the war parties and send it howling back to the Muskingum, where there was great weeping and wailing in the lodges upon its return. But it was fruitless work, for the Indians, driven back for the moment, returned with augmented fury, and again drenched the frontier in theblood of the colonists. 

We realized one and all that nothing we could do would turn the tide ofwar permanently from our borders and render the frontier safe until theFrench had been driven from Fort Duquesne. For it was they who urged theIndians on, supplying them with guns and ammunition, and rewarding themwith rum when they returned to the fort laden with English scalps. Anexpedition against the French stronghold was for the present out of thequestion, and we could only bite our nails and curse, waiting for anothernight when we might sally forth and fall upon one of the war parties. Butthe few Indians we killed seemed a pitiful atonement for the mangledbodies scattered along the frontier and the hundreds of homes of whichthere remained nothing but blackened ruins. As the weeks passed and theIndians saw our impotence, they grew bolder, slipped through the chain ofblockhouses, and ravaged the country east of us, disappearing into thewoods as if by magic at the first alarm. 

The month of August and the first portion of September wore away in thisdreary manner, and it was perhaps a week later that Colonel Washingtonsent me to Frederick to make arrangements for some supplies. Thedistance, which was a scant fifty miles, was over a well-traveled road, and through a district so well protected that the Indians had not daredto visit it; so I rode out of the fort one morning, taking with me onlymy negro boy Sam, whom I had selected for my servant since the day he hadwarned me against Polete. I remember that the day was very warm, and thatthere was no air stirring, so that we pushed forward with indifferentspeed. At noon we reached a farmhouse owned by John Evans, where weremained until the heat had somewhat moderated, and set forward againabout four o'clock in the afternoon. 

We had ridden for near an hour, and I was deep in my own thoughts, whenI heard something breaking its way through the underbrush, and the nextmoment my horse shied violently as a negro stumbled blindly into theroad and collapsed into a heap before he had taken half a dozen stepsalong it. I reined up sharply, and as I did so, heard Sam give a shrillcry of alarm. 

"Shut up, boy, " I cried, "and get off and see what ails the man. He can'thurt you. "

But Sam sat in his saddle clutching at his horse's neck, his face spottedwith terror as I had seen it once before. 

"What is it, Sam?" I asked impatiently. 

"Good Gawd, Mas' Tom, " he cried, his teeth chattering together andcutting off his words queerly, "don' yo' see who 'tis? Don' yo'know him?"

"Know him? No, of course not, " I answered sharply. "Who is he?"

"Polete, " gasped Sam. "Polete, come back aftah me, " and seemed incapableof another word. 

In an instant I was off my horse and kneeling in the road beside thefallen man. Not till then did I believe it was Polete. From a great gashin the side of his head the blood had soaked into his hair and dried overhis face. His shirt was stained, apparently from a wound in his breast, but most horrible of all was a circular, reeking spot on the crown of hishead from which the scalp had been stripped. It needed no second glanceto tell me that Polete had been in the hands of the Indians. 

By this time Sam had partially recovered his wits, and being convincedthat it was Polete in the flesh, not in the spirit, brought some waterfrom a spring at the roadside. I bathed Polete's head as well as I could, and washed the blood from his face. Tearing open his shirt, I saw thatblood was slowly welling from an ugly wound in his breast. He opened hiseyes after a moment, and stared vacantly up into my face. 

"Debbils, " he moaned, "debbils, t' kill a po' ole man. Ain't I said Idone gwine t' lib wid yo'? Kain't trabble fas' 'nough fo' yo'? Don'shoot, oh, don' shoot! Ah!"

He dropped back again into the road with a groan, and tossed from side toside. I thought he was dying, but when I dashed more water in his face, he opened his eyes again. This time he seemed to know me. 

"Is it Mas' Tom?" he gasped. "Mas' Tom what let me go?"

"Yes, Polete, " I answered gently, "it's Master Tom. "

"Whar am I?" he asked faintly. "Have dee got me 'gin? Dee gwine to buhnme?"

"No, no, " I said. "Nobody 's going to harm you, Polete. Where have youbeen all this time?"

"In d' woods, " he whispered, "hidin' in d' swamps, an' skulkin' longaftah night. Could n' nevah sleep, Mas' Tom. When I went t' sleep, seemedlaike d' dogs was right aftah me. "

His head fell back again, and a rush of blood in his throat almostchoked him. 

"Wish I'd stayed at d' plantation, Mas' Tom, " he whispered. "Nothin'could n' been no wo'se 'n what I went frough. Kep' 'long d' ribbah, laikeyo' said, but could n' git nothin' t' eat only berries growin' in d'woods. Got mighty weak, 'n' den las' night met d' Injuns. "

"Last night!" I cried. "Where, Polete?"

"Obah dah 'long d' ribbah, " he answered faintly. "Dee gib me some'n' t'eat, an' I frought maybe dee'd take me 'long, but dis mornin' dee had abig powwow, an' dee shot me an' knock me in d' haid. Seems laike dee 'sgwine t' buhn a big plantation t'-night. "

"A big plantation, Polete?" I asked. "Where? Tell me--oh, you must tellme!"

But his head had fallen back, and his eyes were closed. There was anotherburst of blood from his nose and mouth. I threw water over his face, slapped his hands, and shouted into his ears, but to no avail. Sambrought me another hatful of water, but his hands trembled so that whenhe set it down, he spilled half of it. I dashed what was left over thedying man, but his breathing grew slow and slower, and still his eyeswere closed. I trembled to think what would happen should I never learnwhere the Indians were going, if Polete should never open his eyes againto tell me. But he did, at last, --oh, how long it seemed!--he did, andgazed up at me with a little smile. 

"Reckon it's all obah wid ole Polete, Mas' Tom, " he whispered. 

"Where is this plantation, Polete?" I asked. "The plantation the Indiansare going to attack. Quick, tell me. "

He looked at me a moment longer before answering. 

"D' plantation? Obah dah, eight, ten mile, neah d' ribbah, " and he made afaint little motion northward with his hand. The motion, slight as itwas, brought on another hemorrhage. His eyes looked up into mine for amoment longer, and then, even as I gazed at them, grew fixed and glazed. Old Polete was dead. 

We laid him by the side of the road and rolled two or three logs overhim. More we could not do, for every moment was precious. 

"Sam, " I said quickly, as we finished our task, "you must ride to thefort as fast as your horse will carry you. Tell Colonel Washington that Isent you, and that the Indians are going to attack some big plantation onthe river eight or ten miles north of here. Tell him that I have gone onto warn them. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sah, " he gasped. 

"Well, don't you forget a word of it, " I said sternly. "You can reach thefort easily by nine o'clock to-night. Now, be off. "

He hesitated a moment. 

"What is it?" I cried. "You are not afraid, boy?"

He rubbed his eyes and began to whimper. 

"Not fo' myself, Mas' Tom, " he said. "But yo' gwine t' ride right into d'Injuns. Dee'll git yo' suah. "

"Nonsense!" I retorted sharply. "I'll get through all right, and we caneasily hold out till reinforcements come. Now get on your horse. Remember, the faster you go, the surer you'll be to save us all. "

He swung himself into the saddle, and turned for a moment to look atme, the tears streaming down his face. He seemed to think me as good asdead already. 

"Good-by, Sam, " I said. 

"Good-by, Mas' Tom, " and he put spurs to his horse and set offdown the road. 

I watched him until the trees hid him from sight, and then sprang upon myhorse and started forward. Eight or ten miles, Polete had said, northwardnear the river. The road served me for some miles, and then I came to across road, which seemed well traveled. Not doubting that this led to theplantation of which I was in search, I turned into it, and proceededonward as rapidly as the darkness of the woods permitted. Evening was athand, and under the overlapping branches of the trees, the gloom grewdeep and deeper. At last, away to the right, I caught the gleam of water, and with a sigh of relief knew I was near the river and so on the rightroad. The house could not be much farther on. With renewed vigor I urgedmy horse forward, and in a few minutes came to the edge of a clearing, and there before me was the house. 

But it was not this which drew my eyes. Far away on the other side, concealed from the house by a grove of trees, a shadowy line of tinyfigures was emerging from the forest. Even as I looked, they vanished, and I rubbed my eyes in bewilderment. Yet I knew they had not deceivedme. It was the war party preparing for the attack. 

I set spurs to my horse and galloped the jaded beast toward the house asfast as his weary legs would carry him. As I drew near, I saw it was alarge and well-built mansion. Lights gleamed through the open doors andwindows. Evidently none there dreamed of danger, and I thanked God that Ishould be in time. In a moment I was at the door, and as I threw myselffrom the saddle, I heard from the open window a ringing laugh whichthrilled me through and through, for I knew that the voice was Dorothy's. 

CHAPTER XXV

I FIND MYSELF IN A DELICATE SITUATION

I staggered up the steps, reeling as from a blow on the head, and a negromet me at the top. 

"Where is your master?" I asked. 

"Kun'l Ma'sh 's obah at Frederick, sah, " he answered, looking at me withastonished eyes. 

"Your mistress, then, quick, boy!" and as he turned toward the open doorwith a gesture of his hand, I hurried after him. There was a buzz ofconversation in the room as we approached, but it ceased abruptly as weentered. I felt rather than saw that Dorothy was there, but I looked onlyat the plump little woman who half rose from her chair and stared at mein astonishment. I suppose my appearance was sufficiently surprising, butthere was no time to think of that. 

"A gen'leman t' see yo', Mis' Ma'sh, " said my guide. 

I had not caught the name before, but now I understood, and as I lookedat the woman before me, I saw her likeness to her son. 

"I am Captain Stewart, Mrs. Marsh, " I said, controlling my voice as wellas I could. "You may, perhaps, have heard of me. If not, there are otherspresent who can vouch for me, " but I did not move my eyes from her face. 

"That is quite unnecessary, Captain Stewart, " she cried, coming to meand giving me her hand very prettily. "I knew your grandfather, and youresemble him greatly. " And then she stopped suddenly and grew very pale. "I remember now, " she said. "You were in dear Harry's company. "

"I was not in his company, but I knew and loved him well, " I answeredgently, taking both her hands and holding them tight in mine. "He was abrave and gallant boy, and lost his life while trying to save another's. I was with him when he fell. "

She came close to me, and I could feel that she was trembling. 

"And did he suffer?" she asked. "Oh, I cannot bear to think that heshould suffer!"

"He did not suffer, " I said. "He was shot through the heart. He did nothave an instant's pain. "

She was crying softly against my shoulder, but I held her from me. 

"Mrs. Marsh, " I said, "it is not of Harry we must think now, but ofourselves. This afternoon I learned that the Indians had planned anattack upon this place to-night. I sent my servant back to the fort forreinforcements and rode on to give the alarm. As I neared the house, Isaw their war party skulking in the woods, so that the attack may not belong delayed. "

Her face had turned ashen, and I was glad that I had kept her hands inmine, else she would have fallen. 

"There is no danger, " I added cheerily. "We must close the doors andwindows, and we can easily keep them off till morning. The troops will behere by that time. "

"Oh, do you think so?" she gasped. 

"I am sure of it. Now, will you give the orders to the servants?"

But that was not necessary. The man who had shown me in had heard mywords, and already had the other servants at work, closing and barringdoors and windows. I saw that my assistance was not needed. 

Then for the first time I looked at Dorothy. She was standing, leaninglightly with one hand upon a table, her eyes large and dark with terror, and her lips quivering, perhaps at the scene which had gone before. Hermother was seated by her, and it was to her I turned. 

"I beg you to believe, Mrs. Stewart, " I said, "that I did not know youand your daughter were here. Indeed, I thought you both were back atRiverview ere this. "

"I believe you, Mr. Stewart, " she answered softly. "I believe you to be aman of honor. I am sure I can trust you. "

There was a tone in her voice which I had never heard before. 

"Thank you, " I said. "I shall try to deserve your trust, " and then Iturned away to look to our defenses. 

I confess that, after the first five minutes, our situation appeared moreperilous than I had at first believed it. There was no white man in thehouse except myself, only a dozen negro servants, five of whom were men. A boy, whom I sent to the negro quarters to bring reinforcements, returned with the news that they were deserted, but he brought back withhim the overseer, a man named Brightson, who was to prove his mettlebefore the night was out. 

"I suspected this afternoon that there was something in the wind, " hesaid to me, when I had explained our situation, "though I could not guesswhat it was. The niggers were so damned quiet, not singing in the fieldas they always do. They've been mighty uneasy for a month back. "

"Yes, I know, " I interrupted. "It's the same all over the colony. Theythink the French are going to help them kill the English. I'm rather gladthey ran away. How about these house niggers?"

"Oh, they're all right, especially Pomp there. They'll help us allthey can. "

"That makes seven of us, then. Can you shoot?"

"Try me, " he answered simply. 

"All right, " I said. "We'll pull through, I think. Indians are no good atanything but a surprise. I dare say some of the niggers have told themthat there would be no men here to-night, so they think they'll have aneasy victory. "

I had ordered Pomp to bring to the hall all the arms and ammunition inthe house, and at this moment he touched me on the elbow and told methis was done. Brightson and I looked over the collection, and found itas complete as could be desired. There were a dozen muskets, half a dozenpairs of pistols, a pile of swords and hangers, and ammunition in plenty. Evidently, Colonel Marsh had foreseen the possibility of an Indianattack, and was prepared to receive it. A tour of the house showed me, moreover, that it had been built with the same possibility in view. Thedoors and shutters were all strong and double-barred, and moreover wereloopholed in a way that enabled us to command both approaches. I dividedthe arms, and posted Brightson with three men at the rear door, while I, with Pomp and another negro, took a place at the front. The women I sentto the top of the staircase, where they would be out of reach of anyflying bullets, and could at the same time see what was going on. It wasmy aunt who protested against this arrangement. 

"Can we not be of use, Captain Stewart?" she asked. "We could at leastload the muskets for you. "

"And I am sure that I could fire one, " cried Dorothy. 

"No, no, " I laughed. "Time enough for that when there is need. They willnot fancy the reception they will get, and may not return for a seconddose. " And with a sudden tenderness at my heart, right under the eyes ofMrs. Stewart, I reached up, caught Dorothy's hand, and kissed it. When Iglanced up again, I saw that she was smiling down at me, but I dared notlook at her mother's face. 

I had wondered at first why the attack was not made at once, but as Istood looking out at my loophole, I perceived the reason. The first shadeof evening had found the moon high in the heavens, and it was now rapidlysinking toward the line of trees which marked the horizon. Once plungedbehind them, the darkness would enable the Indians to creep up to thehouse unseen. I watched the moon as it dropped slowly down the sky. Thelower rim just touched the treetops--then it was half behind them--thenit had disappeared, and the world was plunged in darkness. I peered intothe gloom with starting eyes, but could see nothing. I strained my ears, but could catch no sound; three or four tense minutes passed, I couldhave sworn it was half an hour. One of the negro women on the stairscreamed slightly, and, as though it were a signal, there came a greatblow upon the door and pandemonium arose without. I fired blindly throughmy loophole, seized the musket at my side, and fired a second time, thenemptied both my pistols out into the night. It seemed to me a hundredrifles were being fired at once. The hall was full of smoke and thepungent smell of powder, and then, in a second, all was still. 

But only for a second. For there came another chorus of yells from adistance, and I could hear the negro women on the steps behind mewailing softly. 

"Load!" I shouted. "Load, Pomp! They will be back in a minute, " and thenI ran to the other door to see how Brightson fared. 

"All right, " he said cheerfully, in answer to my question. "We couldn'tsee 'em, but we emptied a good deal of lead out there, and I think fromthe way they yelled we must have hit two or three. " "Keep it up!" Icried. "We'll drive them off easily, " and with a word of encouragement tothe negroes, I returned to my post. As I neared the door, I saw twofigures in white working over the guns. It was Dorothy and her mother, helping the negroes reload. I sent them back to the stair with affectedsternness, but I got a second hand-clasp from Dorothy as she passed me. 

Then came another long period of waiting, which racked the nerves untilthe silence grew well-nigh insupportable. The darkness without wasabsolute, and there was not a sound to disturb the stillness. The minutespassed, and I was just beginning to hope that the Indians had already gotenough, when I caught the faint shuffle of moccasined feet on the porch, and again the door was struck a terrific blow, which made it groan on itshinges. I fired out into the darkness as fast as I could lay down one gunand pick up another, and again the uproar ceased as suddenly as it hadbegun. As I turned away a moment from the loophole, I saw that Pomp hadsunk down to the floor, his hands to his head. 

"What is it, Pomp?" I cried, as I bent over him, but there was no needfor him to answer, even had he been able. A bullet, entering theloop-hole through which he was firing, had struck his left eye andentered the head. The other negro and myself laid him to one sideagainst the wall, and when I went to him ten minutes later to see ifthere was anything I could do, he was dead. I turned away to the womento say some words of cheer and comfort to them, when a call fromBrightson startled me. 

"What has happened?" I asked, as I reached his side, and for answer hepointed out through the loophole. 

"They have fired the nigger quarters and outbuildings, " he said grimly. "They'll probably try to fire the house next. "

Even as we looked, the flames rose high above the roofs of the cabins andbathed the clearing in red radiance. In and out among the buildings wecould see the Indians scampering, a hundred of them at least. Suddenlythere was a chorus of yells, and two Indians appeared, rolling a caskbefore them into the belt of light. 

"They've found a keg of rum which was in my quarters, " remarkedBrightson; "now they'll get crazy drunk. Our task has just begun, Captain Stewart. "

I realized that he spoke the truth. Sober, an Indian will not stand uplong in open fight, but drunk, he is a devil incarnate, --a fiend who willdare anything. I watched them as they knocked in the head of the cask andscooped up the raw spirits within. Then one of them began a melancholymelody, which rose and fell in measured cadence, the other warriorsgradually joining in and stamping the ground with their feet. Everyminute one would run to the cask for another draught of the rum, andgradually their yells grew louder, their excitement more intense, as theyrushed back and forth brandishing their weapons. 

"They will soon be on us again, " said Brightson in a low tone, but roundand round they kept dancing, their leader in front in all his wartrappings, the others almost naked, and for the most part painted black. No wonder I had been unable to see them in the darkness. 

"They are going to attack us again, Tom, are they not?" asked a low voiceat my elbow. 

"Dorothy, " I cried, "what are you doing here? Come, you must get back tothe stair at once. The attack may come at any moment. "

"You are treating me like a child, " she protested, and her eyes flashedpassionately. "Do you think we are cowards, we women? We will not betreated so! We have come to help you. "

I looked at her in amazement. This was not the Dorothy I knew, but abraver, sweeter one. Her mother and Mrs. Marsh were behind her, bothlooking equally determined. 

"Very well, " I said, yielding with an ill grace. "You may sit on thefloor here and load the guns as we fire them. That will be of greaterservice than if you fired them yourselves, and you will be quite out ofreach of the bullets. "

Dorothy sniffed contemptuously at my last words, but deigned to sit downbeside the other women. I placed the powder and ball where they couldreach them easily, shaded a candle so that it threw its light only on thefloor beside them, gave them a few directions about loading, and rejoinedBrightson at his loophole. The Indians had stopped dancing, and wereengaged in heaping up a great pile of burning logs. 

"What are they about?" I asked. 

Brightson looked at me with a grim light in his eyes. 

"They're going to try to burn us out, " he said, and almost before he hadspoken, the Indians seized a hundred burning brands from the fire, andwaving them about their heads to fan them to a brighter flame, startedtoward us. 

CHAPTER XXVI

A DESPERATE DEFENSE

I had barely time to get back to my post at the front door when they wereupon us. I fired out into the rabble, and as I turned to get another gun, Dorothy was at my side and thrust it into my hands. There was no time toprotest, even had I not realized, as I glanced into her eyes, thatprotestation would be useless. I fired a second time, when a tremendousexplosion in the hall at my side startled me. I saw in a moment what hadhappened. The negro who was at the other loophole, dazed with fear, haddischarged his gun straight into the ceiling overhead, and then, flingingit down, turned and ran. I could not pursue him, and grabbing a third gunfrom Dorothy, I fired again at the Indians, some of whom were swarming upthe steps. As I did so, I stared an instant in amazement, for at the shottwo men had fallen. As I turned back for another musket, I saw Mrs. Stewart at the other loophole, a smoking rifle in her hands, into whichshe was feverishly ramming another charge. It was a sight that made myheart leap, and I found myself suddenly admiring her. But before eitherof us could fire again, the Indians were gone, and a chorus of yells andsharp firing told me they were attacking Brightson's side of the house. The noise died away after a moment, and they appeared again bornedistance off, looking back eagerly as though expecting something. 

I saw with a start that their firebrands were no longer in their hands, and a moment later a puff of smoke from the corner of the house and theexultant yells of the savages warned me of our new danger. As I turnedfrom the door, I met Brightson coming to seek me with an anxious face. 

"They have fired the house, Captain Stewart, " he said. 

"I fear so. We must find the place and put out the flames. "

Without a word he turned and followed me, and we opened the shutters alittle here and there and looked out. We soon found what we were seeking. 

As the Indians had dashed around the house from front to rear, they hadapproached the side and piled their burning brands against the boards. Welooked down from the window and saw that the house had already caughtfire. In a few moments the flames would be beyond control. I was back tothe hall in an instant. 

"Is there any water in the house?" I asked of Mrs. Marsh, who was seatedon the floor reloading our guns with a coolness which told me where herson had got his gallantry. 

She looked at me an instant with face whitened by a new fear. 

"Do you mean that the house is on fire?" she asked. 

I nodded. 

"There is no water, " she said very quietly. "The well is a hundred yardsfrom the house. "

I beckoned to the negroes, who were listening in an anxious group, andhastened back to Brightson. 

"There is no water, " I said to him briefly. "I am going to open theshutter, drop down, and knock the fire away from the house. Do you beready to pull me back in again, when I have finished. "

"But it is death to do that, " he exclaimed. 

"No, no, " I said. "You and the boys can keep them off. There is noother way. "

He turned from me and looked about the room. 

"This will save you, " he cried, and ran to a heavy oak table which stoodin one corner. I looked at him for a moment without understanding. 

"We will throw it through the window, " he explained. "You can drop behindit, and the Indians' bullets cannot reach you. "

I saw his plan before he had finished, and we had the table at the windowin an instant. 

"Now, boys, all together, " I cried, and as I threw the shutter back, theylifted the table to the sill and pushed it through. Before the Indiansunderstood what was happening, I had dropped beside it, pulled it aroundto screen me, and was kicking the brands away from the building. Thenthey understood, and made a rush for the house, but met so sharp areception from Brightson and his men that they fell back, and contentedthemselves with keeping up a sharp fusilade upon my place ofconcealment. It was the work of only a few moments to kick away thebrands and beat out the flames which were running along the side of thehouse. I signaled to Brightson that I was ready to return, and he openeda heavy fire upon the savages, which drove them for a moment out ofmusket range. Then throwing the shutter back, he leaned out, grasped myhands, and pulled me into the house without a scratch. 

"That's what I call genius, " he observed, as he clapped the shutter tightand shot the bar into place. "I fancy they're getting about enough. "

"I trust so, " I answered. "But in any event, our troops will be here intwo or three hours more. "

We stood for some time in silence and watched the Indians. They drewtogether near one of the burning buildings, apparently for aconsultation, and then running to a cabin which had not yet beenconsumed, they tore off the heavy door and shutters. 

"They haven't given it up yet, " remarked Brightson grimly, "but they'regoing to advance under cover this time. "

Evidently some further preparation was necessary, for half a dozen ofthem worked away busily for some time, though we could not see what theywere doing. 

"What new deviltry are they up to now?" I heard Brightson mutter tohimself, but I could find no answer to his question, for I knew little ofthis kind of warfare. 

It was soon answered by the Indians themselves. A dozen of them ranaround the house in different directions, each carrying a board, whilethe others, after paying a last visit to the cask of rum, groupedthemselves opposite the rear door, but well out of range. We watched themin breathless silence. Those who were armed with shields approachednearer and nearer, until within perhaps fifty yards. We fired at them, but seemingly without effect. Then there was a moment of anxious waiting, and almost together a dozen streamers of fire rose high into the air anddescended toward the house. Some fell harmlessly on the ground without, and we saw that they were arrows tipped with burning tow, but the mostmust have fallen upon the roof. A second and third shower of firefollowed, and then the Indians withdrew behind their shields and quietlyawaited the result. 

"They have set fire to the roof, " I gasped. "We must put it out at once, or we are lost. "

"Leave that to me, Captain Stewart, " said Brightson quietly, and Inever admired the courage of a man more than I did his at that moment. "I will get out on the roof, and throw the arrows down. I don't believethey can hit me. "

It was the only thing to do, and he was gone even as I nodded my assent. Five minutes passed, and then the Indians began to yell again, and I knewthat Brightson had reached the roof. Almost at the same instant, the mainbody of the savages advanced at a run, some of them carrying a heavylog, the others holding boards in front of them. We sent a dozen bulletsamong them before they reached the door, but they came on withoutfaltering. One man, very tall and clad in a suit of fringed buckskin, ranin front and urged them on. I fired at him twice, but he came on asbefore, and I knew that I had wasted the bullets. 

Up the steps they came, yelling like devils fresh from hell, and broughtthe log crashing against the door, while others thrust their musketsthrough the loopholes and fired into the hallway. One of the negroes sankdown without a groan, the blood spurting from his neck, and anotherdropped his gun with a yell, and, clapping his hands to his face, ranshrieking down the hall. 

Again the log thundered against the door, one of the bars sprung loose, and half a dozen shots were fired into the hallway. I saw that the doorcould hold but a moment longer, and shouting to the negroes to fallback, I retreated to the stair, grabbing up a hanger as I passed theplace where we had piled the arms. Running back again, I caught up abag of powder and another of ball, so that we might not be utterlywithout ammunition, and with these sped up the stair, pushing the womenbefore me. 

We were not an instant too soon, for the door crashed down at the nextblow, and the savages poured over the threshold. They paused a moment tosee what had become of us, and this gave us opportunity to pour a volleyinto them. Then on they came, the man in buckskin still leading them. Asthey reached the foot of the stair, I took steady aim at him with mypistol and pulled the trigger. But he seemed to have some intuition ofhis danger, for he stooped suddenly, and it was the man behind him whothrew up his hands, sprang into the air, and fell backward. They falteredonly for an instant, and then swarmed up the steps, their greased facesgleaming in the powder flashes. I thought it as good as ended, andthrowing down my musket, caught up my hanger for a final stand, whensomething was thrown past me and bounded down the stair. It swept halfthe Indians off their feet and carried them down before it, and theothers, not knowing what had happened, turned and ran down after them. Nor, indeed, did I know until afterward, when I learned that Brightson, coming down from the roof and taking in our peril at a glance, had caughtup a great log from the fireplace in the upper hall, where it wasawaiting the winter lighting, and, with a strength little short ofsuperhuman, had hurled it down upon the savages. 

It gave us respite for a moment, but it was certain they would chargeagain, and I knew too well what the result would be, for the last of thenegroes had flung down his gun and run away, leaving only Brightson andme to guard the women. It was Mrs. Marsh who spoke the saving word. 

"Why not retreat to the roof?" she said. "They could not get at usthere. "

It was the only chance of safety, so to the roof we went, the womenfirst, and we two bringing up the rear. Once there, we closed the trapand waited. In a moment we heard the yell which told us that our retreathad been discovered, and then again came silence. 

"This is no ordinary Indian attack, " said Brightson, who was wiping thesweat and powder stains from his face. "There's a Frenchman leadingthem, and maybe two or three. Did you see that fellow in buckskin whoran in front?"

"Yes, " I answered gloomily. "I have fired at him three times, but alwaysmissed him. "

"Well, he is no Indian, " said Brightson, "in spite of his painted face. If they hadn't had that cask of rum and him to lead them, they would havecleared out of this long ago. They have no stomach for this kind of work, unless they are full of liquor. "

The sky in the east was turning from black to gray, and the dawn was notfar distant. 

"Our troops will soon be here, " I said, and went to the women where theywere crouching behind a protecting gable. Dorothy, her mother, and Mrs. Marsh were sitting side by side, and they all smiled at me as Iapproached. 

"I think we are safe here, " I said as cheerily as I could, "and thereinforcements cannot be far away. I know Colonel Washington too wellto think he would delay a moment longer than necessary to start toour relief. "

"You have made a brave defense, Captain Stewart, " said Mrs. Marshearnestly. "I realize what would have been our fate long ere this, hadyou not been here. "

"Nay, madame, " I interrupted, "I could have done little by myself. Ihave learned to-night that the women of Virginia are no less gallantthan the men. "

"Come, come, " laughed Dorothy, "this is not a drawing-room that you needthink you must flatter us, Tom. "

I glanced at Mrs. Stewart, and saw with some surprise that she toowas smiling. 

"'Twas not flattery, " I protested, "but a simple statement of fact. Andthere is another here, " I added, turning to Mrs. Marsh, "whose conductshould be remembered. I have never seen a braver man, " and I glanced atBrightson where he sat, his musket across his knees. 

"I shall remember it, " she said, as she followed my eyes. 

A burst of yells and a piercing cry from below interrupted us. 

"What was that?" asked Dorothy, white to the lips. 

"They have found one of the negroes, " I answered, as calmly as I could. "They ran away, and must have hidden somewhere in the house. "

We sat listening, the women pale and horror-stricken, and even Brightsonand I no little moved. The yells and the single shrill cry were repeateda second time and then a third, and finally all was still again save forthe negro women wailing softly, as they rocked themselves to and frobehind the gable, their arms about their knees. I crept back to mystation by the trap and waited feverishly for what should happen next. We could hear steps in the hall below, a short consultation and aclanking of arms, and then all was still. 

"Here they come, " said Brightson, between his teeth, and even as hespoke, the trap was thrown outward by a great force from below, and thesavage swarm poured forth upon the roof. I struck madly at the first man, and saw another fall, pierced by a bullet from Brightson's gun, and thenhe was down and I heard the sough of a knife thrust into him. 

"They are coming! They are coming!" screamed a shrill voice behind me, and I turned to see Dorothy upright on the roof, pointing away to thesouthward. And there, sure enough, at the edge of the clearing, was atroop of Virginians, galloping like mad. Ah, how welcome were those blueuniforms! We could hear them cheering, and, with a leaping heart, I sawit was Colonel Washington himself who led them. 

For an instant the Indians stood transfixed, and then, with a yell, turned back toward the trap. All save one. I saw him raise his musket tohis shoulder and take deliberate aim at Dorothy as she stood thereoutlined in white against the purple sky. I sprang at him with a cry ofrage, and dragged his gun toward me as he pulled the trigger. There was aburst of flame in my face, a ringing in my ears, I felt the earthslipping from me, and knew no more. 

CHAPTER XXVII

I COME INTO MY OWN

It was long before I realized that that white, bandaged thing lying onthe bed before me was my hand. I gazed at it curiously for a while andstirred it slightly to make sure, --what a mighty effort that littlemotion cost me!--and then I became aware that a breeze was passing acrossmy face, and a peculiar thing about it was that it came and wentregularly like the swinging of a pendulum. And when I raised my eyes tosee what this might mean, I found myself looking straight into theastonished face of Sam, my boy. 

He stared at me for a moment, his eyes starting from his head, and thenwith a loud cry he dropped the fan he had been wielding and ran from theroom, clapping his hands together as he went, as I had heard negroes dounder stress of great excitement. What could it mean? Again my eyes fellupon the queer, bandaged thing which must be my hand. Had there been anaccident? I could not remember, and while my mind was still wrestlingwith the question in a helpless, flabby way, I heard the swish of skirtsat the door, and there entered who but Dorothy!

"Why, Dorothy!" I cried, and then stopped, astonished at the sound of myown voice. It was not my voice at all, --I had never heard it before, --andit seemed to come from a great way off. And what astonished me more thananything else was that Dorothy did not seem in the least surprised by it. 

"Yes, Tom, " she said, and she came to the bedside and laid her hand uponmy head. Such a cool, soft little hand it was. "Why, the fever is quitegone! You will soon be well again. "

I tried to raise my hand to take hers, but it lay there like a greatdead weight, and I could scarcely move it. I know not what it was, butat the sight of her standing there so strong and brave and sweet, andthe thought of myself so weak and helpless, the tears started from myeyes and rolled down my cheeks in two tiny rivulets. She seemed tounderstand my thought, for she placed one of her hands in mine, and withthe other wiped my tears away. I love to think of her always as I sawher then, bending over me with infinite pity in her face and wiping mytears away. The moment of weakness passed, and my brain seemed clearerthan it had been. 

"Have I been ill?" I asked. 

"Very ill, Tom, " she said. "But now you will get well very quickly. "

"What was the matter with me, Dorothy?"

She looked at me a moment and seemed hesitating for an answer. 

"I think you would better go to sleep now, Tom, " she said at last, "andwhen you wake again, I will tell you all about it. "

"Very well, " I answered submissively, and indeed, at the time, my brainseemed so weary that I had no wish to know more. 

She gently took her hand from mine and went to a table, where she pouredsomething from a bottle into a glass. I followed her with my eyes, notinghow strong and confident and beautiful she was. 

"Drink this, Tom, " she said, bringing the glass back to the bed andholding it to my lips. I gulped it down obediently, and then watchedher again as she went to the window and drew the blind. She came backin a moment and sat down in the chair from which I had startled Sam. She picked up the fan which he had dropped, and waved it softly to andfro above me, smiling gently down into my face. And as I lay therewatching her, the present seemed to slip away and leave me floating ina land of clouds. 

But when I opened my eyes again, it all came back to me in an instant, and I called aloud for Dorothy. She was bending over me almost before thesound of my voice had died away. 

"Oh, thank God!" I cried. "It was only a dream, then! You are safe, Dorothy, --there were no Indians, --tell me it was only a dream. "

"Yes, I am quite safe, Tom, " she answered, and took my hand inboth of hers. 

"And the Indians?" I asked. 

"Were frightened away by Colonel Washington and his men, who killedmany of them. "

I closed my eyes for a moment, and tried to reconstruct the drama ofthat dreadful night. 

"Dorothy, " I asked suddenly, "was Brightson killed?"

"Yes, Tom, " she answered softly. 

I sighed. 

"He was a brave man, " I said. "No man could have been braver. "

"Only one, I think, " and she smiled down at me tremulously, her eyesfull of tears. 

"Yes, Colonel Washington, " I said, after a moment's thought. "Perhaps heis braver. "

"I was not thinking of Colonel Washington, Tom, " and her lips beganto tremble. 

I gazed at her a moment in amazement. 

"You do not mean me, Dorothy?" I cried. "Oh, no; I am not brave. You donot know how frightened I grow when the bullets whistle around me. "

She laid her fingers on my lips with the prettiest motion in the world. 

"Hush, " she said. "I will not listen to such blasphemy. "

"At least, " I protested, "I am not so brave as you, --no, nor as yourmother, Dorothy. I had no thought that she was such a gallant woman. "

"Ah, you do not know my mother!" she cried. "But you shall know her someday, Tom. Nor has she known you, though I think she is beginning to knowyou better, now. "

There were many things I wished to hear, --many questions that Iasked, --and I learned how Sam had galloped on until he reached the fort, how he had given the alarm, how Colonel Washington himself had riddenforth twenty minutes later at the head of fifty men, --all who could bespared, --and had spurred on through the night, losing the road more thanonce and searching for it with hearts trembling with fear lest theyshould be too late, and how they had not been too late, but had savedus, --saved Dorothy. 

"And I think you are dearer to the commander's heart than any other man, "she added. "Indeed, he told me so. For he stayed here with you for threedays, watching at your bedside, until he found that he could stay nolonger, and then he tore himself away as a father leaves his child. I hadnever seen him moved so deeply, for you know he rarely shows emotion. "

Ah, Dorothy, you did not know him as did I! You had not been with him atGreat Meadows, nor beside the Monongahela, nor when we buried Braddockthere in the road in the early morning. You had not been with him atWinchester when wives cried to him for their husbands, and children fortheir parents, nor beside the desolated hearths of a hundred frontierfamilies. And of a sudden it came over me as a wave rolls up the beach, how much of sorrow and how little of joy had been this man's portion. Small wonder that his face seemed always sad and that he rarely smiled. 

Dorothy had left me alone a moment with my thoughts, and when she cameback, she brought her mother with her. I had never seen her look at meas she looked now, and for the first time perceived that it was from herDorothy got her eyes. She stood in the doorway for a moment, gazing downat me, and then, before I knew what she was doing, had fallen on herknees beside my bed and was kissing my bandaged hand. 

"Why, aunt!" I cried, and would have drawn it from her. 

"Oh, Tom, " she sobbed, and clung to it, "can you forgive me?"

"Forgive you, aunt?" I cried again, yet more amazed. "What have you donethat you should stand in need of my forgiveness?"

"What have I done?" she asked, and raised her face to mine. "What have Inot done, rather? I have been a cold, hard woman, Tom. I have forgot whatright and justice and honor were. But I shall forget no longer. Do youknow what I have here in my breast?" she cried, and she snatched forth apaper and held it before my eyes. "You could never guess. It is a letteryou wrote to me. "

"A letter I wrote to you?" I repeated, and then as I saw thesuperscription, I felt my cheeks grow hot. For it read, "To be deliveredat once to Mrs. Stewart. "

"Ay, " she said, "a letter you wrote to me, and which I should never havereceived had you not forgot it and left it lying on my table in my studyat Riverview. Can you guess what I felt, Tom, when they brought it to mehere, and I opened it and read that you had gone to the swamp aloneamongst those devils? I thought that you were dead, since the letter hadbeen delivered, and the whole extent of the wrong I had done you sprangup before me. But they told me you were not dead, --that ColonelWashington had come for you, and that you had ridden hastily away withhim. I could guess the story, and I should never have known that you hadsaved the place but for the chance which made you forget this letter. "

I had tried to stop her more than once. She had gone on without heedingme, but now she paused. 

"It was nothing, " I said. "Nothing. There was no real danger. Thank Long. He was with me. He is a better man than I. "

"Oh, yes, " she cried, "they are all better men than you, I dare say! Donot provoke me, sir, or you will have me quarreling with you before Ihave said what I came here to say. Can you guess what that is?" and shepaused again, to look at me with a great light in her eyes. 

But I was far past replying. I gazed up at her, bewildered, dazzled. Ihad never known this woman. 

"I see you cannot guess, " she said. "Of course you cannot guess! Howcould you, knowing me as you have known me? 'Tis this. Riverview isyours, Tom, and shall be always yours from this day forth, as of right ithas ever been. "

Riverview mine? No, no, I did not want Riverview. It was somethingelse I wanted. 

"I shall not take it, aunt, " I said quite firmly. "I am going to make aname for myself, --with my sword, you know, " I added with a smile, "andwhen I have once done that, there is something else which I shall ask youfor, which will be dearer to me--oh, far dearer--than a hundredRiverviews. "

What ailed the women? Here was Dorothy too on her knees and kissing mybandaged hand. 

"Oh, Tom, Tom, " she cried, "do you not understand?"

"Understand?" I repeated blankly. "Understand what, Dorothy?"

"Don't you remember, dear, what happened just before the troops came?"

"Oh, very clearly, " I answered. "The Indians got Brightson down andstabbed him, and just then you sprang up and cried the troops werecoming, and sure enough, there they were just entering the clearing, andthe Indians paused only for one look and then fled down the stairs asfast as they could go. 'T was you who saved us all, Dorothy. "

"Oh, but there was something more!" she cried. "There was one Indian whodid not run, Tom, but who stopped to aim at me. I saw him do it, and Iclosed my eyes, for I knew that he would kill me, and I heard his gun'sreport, but no bullet struck me. For it was you whom it struck, dear, through your hand and into your side, and for long we thought you dying. "

"Yes, " I said, "but you see I am not dying, nor like to die, dearDorothy, so that I may still rejoin the troops erelong. "

She was looking at me with streaming eyes. 

"Do you mean that I am not going to get well, Dorothy?" I asked, for Iconfess her tears frightened me. 

"Oh, not so bad as that, dear!" she cried. "Thank God, not so bad asthat! But your hand, Tom, your right hand is gone. You can neverwield a sword again, dear, never go to war. You will have to stay athome with me. "

I know not how it was, but she was in my arms, and her lips were on mine, and I knew that was no more parting for us. 

CHAPTER XVIII

AND SO, GOOD-BY

Well, a right hand is a little price to pay for the love of a wife likemine, and if I have made no name in the world, I at least live happy init, which is perhaps a greater thing. And I have grown to use my lefthand very handily. I have learnt to write with it, as the readerknows, --and when I hold my wife to me, I have her ever next my heart. 

It is the fashion, I know well, to stop the story on the altar's steps, and leave the reader to guess at all that may come after, but as I turnover the pages I have writ, they seem too much a tale of failure anddefeat, and I would not have it so. For the lessons learned at FortNecessity and Winchester and at Duquesne have given us strength to drivethe French from the continent and the Indian from the frontier. So thatnow we dwell in peace, and live our lives in quiet and content, save forsome disagreements with the king about our taxes, which Lord Grenvillehas made most irksome. 

And even to my dearest friend, whose life, as I have traced it here, hasbeen so full of sorrow and reverse, has come great happiness. He ishonored of all men, and has found love as well, for he has brought a wifehome to Mount Vernon. Dorothy declares that Mistress Washington is thevery image of that Mary Cary who used him so ill years ago, --but thismay be only a woman's leaning toward romance. 

Indeed, we have a romance in our own home, --a bright-eyed girl oftwenty, who, I fear, is soon to leave us, if a certain pert young bladewho lives across the river has his way. It will be I who give her awayat the altar, for her father lies dead beside the Monongahela, --brave, gentle-hearted Spiltdorph. My eyes grow dim even now when I think ofyou, yet I trust that I have done as you would have had me do. For Ifound the girl at Hampton, after a weary search, --perhaps some day Ishall tell the story. 

It is in the old seat by the river's edge I write these words, and as Ilay down the pen, my hand falls on those carved letters, T and D, with alittle heart around them, --very faint, now, and worn with frequentkisses, --and as I lift my head, I see coming to me across the grass thewoman who carved them there and whom I love.