A Little Girl in Old Philadelphia Part 32

Janice Kent was summoned, and ready enough for the adventure; and the horses were ordered up. Then came a great deal of amus.e.m.e.nt in attiring Andrew.

"Since it is quite muddy put my linen safeguard petticoat on him, Patty, the better to conceal his long legs, for it will be somewhat awkward riding woman-fashion, but my saddle is broad. Now my bedgown of paduasoy. Alack! how short the sleeves are! Here are the long cuffs.

That will do. Now the camlet cape and my black beaver hat. A mercy it is, Andrew, that thou hast no beard. Patty, tie the bow. Upon my word, thou art so good-looking, with the coquettish bow under thy chin, that I am half afraid some saucy redcoat may stop thee. Janice, guard him well.

And you must wear my silken mask. April wind is bad for complexions and might freckle thee."

Primrose had been dancing about, not comprehending the gravity of the case.

"Oh, Aunt Wetherill, how queer it all is! He is like and unlike thee."

"And if thou shouldst meet a friend, be careful and remember that 'tis thy aunt. And now, Janice, make thyself ready. Meanwhile I will go into retirement under Patty's wing."

Patty went down to see that all was ready. Old Cato stood with the horses. Luckily sharper-eyed Julius had gone to market.

Janice helped her mistress, who was rather awkward, it was true. The skirts were adjusted, the mask dropped over the face, and then Primrose was put in her seat.

"Not a word out of thee for thy very life," said Patty. "Look as demure as if on the road to church."

Mistress Janice sprang into her saddle. As they were going out of the courtyard, she exclaimed: "Let us take Fairemount, Madam Wetherill, and find some wild flowers. The spring is late, to be sure, but they must be in bloom."

"There will be no danger, I think," said Patty softly, as she re-entered the room.

"I will have my netting and sit here by the child's bed. What a queer caper, and so quickly managed! But it is what I thought would come presently. Not the suspicion, but Andrew Henry's going over to the rebels. He is more like his uncle than Phil Nevitt. Ah, if it could be true that the British would decamp before they have quite ruined our city we should all give thanks."

There was an imperious knock presently that made the great door rattle.

The small black factotum, in his Barbadoes suit and red turban, opened the top door and glanced at the caller.

"Madam Wetherill----"

"Madam and Missy and Mistress Janice have gone out ridin' som'er."

"Out riding, hey! with mud a foot deep! Tell your mistress that I came to have my revenge for her beating me last night at piquet. The young people made such a rumpus with their talk I lost my head," and Ralph Jeffries looked vexed.

The youngster nodded and grinned. Later on came Polly Wharton and Miss Stuart, to meet with the same reply.

At the corner of the street they encountered Captain Nevitt and Vane, and an elderly officer.

"It is a fine day save for the mud!" exclaimed Sally. "Fine overhead, but few are going that way."

"We did not set out for that," returned Vane, smiling.

"And if you have set out for Madam Wetherill's it will be quite as useless. She and the young one have gone off larking, for wild flowers, I believe. Mistress Kent went with them for dragon."

Then the men looked at each other.

"How long have they been gone, I wonder."

"Oh, since about high noon!"

Patty had looked up from her sewing at the second knock.

"Thy ride will get noised about and throw suspicion off guard, which will be so much the better," she exclaimed.

They waited impatiently for the return of the guard, laughing over another call or two. It was almost dusk when Janice and Primrose returned.

"Friend Henry escaped safely, though, madam, if thou shouldst be taxed with rudeness in not bowing at the proper time, pray apologize. We met some old friends, but he was somewhat stiff. And the saddle is left with one Master Winter at Fairemount. I ripped it that he might have the job of sewing and earn a few pence. Friend Henry was glad enough to doff petticoats and jump on astride; 'tis about the only thing I envy in a man. And then I put on thy skirt, and we slunk into town quietly. Quite an adventure, truly! If one could only hear the end of it!"

James Henry heard the next day that there was a warrant out for his son, who was suspected of carrying messages and other matters to the rebel headquarters at Valley Forge. He had left his horses and the wagon in the market place, and disappeared. No one remembered letting him out on his pa.s.s. It might be that he was still hiding in the town.

"There has been too much of this carrying back and forth," declared the sergeant. "It is time there was a sterner hand at the helm, and not so much pleasuring."

There were reasons why Captain Nevitt said nothing to his little sister about the matter, and she was strictly forbidden to suggest it. The Wetherill household had not seen Andrew, as he had watched his opportunity to slip in unaware; consequently, nothing was gained by questioning them.

"They would certainly have known if he had come in our absence," said Madam Wetherill with an air of interest. "Of course we must be sorry to have him in danger, but we will not lay the matter before Primrose."

There were stirring events on both sides. On the 7th of May the news reached the Continental army of the recognition of France. The warmer weather and the replenishment of food and clothing had inspirited the men. Many new enlistments from the country around had come in. On this morning they were a.s.sembled for prayers and thanksgiving. General Steuben had drilled them until they presented a really soldierly appearance. But their enthusiasm broke bounds when the salutes were fired.

"Long live the King of France!" ran through the army with a shout.

Another salute was fired. "Long live the friendly European powers." And the third, "The American States," was received with the wildest joy.

They all forgot the suffering of the long, dreary winter.

After a discourse by one of the chaplains, there was a collation. When the General and Mrs. Washington retired the soldiers lined the way with the cry of "Long live General Washington!" "Long live Lady Washington!"

a t.i.tle that seemed to follow her, and that had been given her before by Colonel Hanc.o.c.k.

It was supposed the campaign would open almost at once. But General Howe's army had been demoralized more by dissipation than the Continentals by hardships, and weakened by numerous desertions. The officers had been in one round of gayety, and the city recalled their charms long afterward. They had made the theater a reputable place of amus.e.m.e.nt, and the higher-cla.s.s b.a.l.l.s had been well patronized by the Tory ladies.

But the farewell to General Howe was to excel all other gayeties, and to be an event long remembered, including a regatta, a tournament, and a dance. Decorated barges left Knight's Wharf in the afternoon, full of handsomely attired guests, who were carried to Old Fort, and escorted by troops to the beautiful and s.p.a.cious lawn of Walnut Grove. The English fleet lay at anchor, flying their colors, and the transport ships were crowded with spectators.

The tournament, with its two sets of knights ready to do battle for their favorite ladies, sounds like a chapter out of the Middle Ages. New York had abounded in gayeties, but this eclipsed anything yet attempted.

The apartment had been decorated by the British officers, foremost among them young Andre, little dreaming then what fate had in store for him, and how his life would end.

After the tournament, with its stilted magnificence, came a dance, a display of fireworks, a supper with twenty-four slaves in Oriental costumes, with silver collars and gilt armlets. The walls were hung with mirrors, and thousands of wax tapers reflected the brilliance of silken gowns and jewels, of scarlet and gold uniforms, of fair women and brave men that made the Mischianza a glittering page of history.

It was true that many beside the Tory ladies graced the occasion. There had been an undeniable friendliness between both Americans and British, and many a heart won and lost, as it was said six hundred or more deserters from Clinton's army found their way back to Philadelphia and made worthy citizens, some of them indeed entering the American army.

Captain Nevitt had importuned Madam Wetherill to attend, for he was resolved Primrose should see the pageant. Polly Wharton had, as she admitted, nine minds out of the ten to go, as Thomas Wharton, the owner of Walnut Grove, was her uncle. But her brother was in the American army, and her heart really went with her country.

"As if a little dancing could matter!" said Phil Nevitt. "Nay, Miss Polly, I doubt not but that some day I shall see you at the court of our King, and perhaps dance with you in a palace. And I want Primrose to go, but Madam Wetherill will not, though Major Andre himself sent the invitation. He is such a charming, generous fellow that he can do more with his winning air than many with their swords. But Primrose I must take. She is such a pretty, saucy, captivating rebel that it is charming to tease her. And, if you will go, her aunt will give in, I know."

"I'm not sure," Primrose declared with dainty hesitation, "whether I want to go or not. I am certain, Phil, I shall be a worse rebel than ever, afterward."

"Nay, Primrose, when you see the gallant gentlemen who have come over to help the King restore peace and order, and punish some of the ringleaders, you will be convinced of the great mistake the Americans have made. And then we shall be friends again."

"I wish you were all going back to England with General Howe!"

"And you give me up so easily--your own brother?" with a pathetic upbraiding in his tone.

"Only a half-brother! And the Tory half I can't like. The other, the Henry half----"