From Kingdom to Colony Part 25

"'T is a thousand pities they should have taken Mugford," the old gentleman remarked, as he carefully lit his pipe.

"Yes," his son a.s.sented; "it is in every way a pity, for if they wish to invite trouble they could not have made a better opening for ill feeling among the people of the town."

"Indeed they could not," Hugh exclaimed hotly. "Every one is sure to take Mugford's abduction to heart, and find a way to make the redcoats answer for it."

"We shall find a way, please G.o.d, to make them all answer for their overbearing and insolence to us as a country as well as individuals,"

Joseph Devereux said gravely. "And that reminds me, I had surely thought Broughton and the rest o' the committee would have returned from Boston this night."

"He was very doubtful, as I think, of getting back before to-morrow, or perhaps until Monday." And a dreamy look softened Jack's face, as if he might be thinking of what was to be told when Nicholson Broughton returned.

"Jack, what a lucky beggar you are!" exclaimed Hugh, with a touch of envy in his tone, as the two young men tarried a moment in the former's room before saying good-night.

Jack opened his eyes still wider, exactly after the fashion of Dorothy when she was surprised.

"You see," Hugh added nervously, "you love Mary Broughton, and she loves you, and you have the approval and blessing of both fathers. Now I--" Here he stammered, and then became silent.

"What is it, Hugh--do you wish me to understand that you love Mary yourself?"

John Devereux spoke seriously, almost jealously, for an old suspicion was beginning to awaken once more within him.

But Hugh laughed in a way to forever remove any such feeling from his friend's mind.

"I--I love Mary!" he exclaimed. "I never dreamed of such a thing, Jack, although I admit that she is very beautiful, and possesses everything to call forth any man's best and deepest love. But, my dear Jack, if you were not blinded, you might see that the world holds other girls than Mary." And he looked wistfully at his friend, as if wishing him to know something he hesitated to put into words.

"Do you mean that you are in love with some one, Hugh?" asked Jack, laying his hand on the other's broad shoulder.

Hugh's blue eyes lowered as bashfully as those of a girl, and Jack, now smiling at him, said, "Who is it--Polly Chine, over at the Fountain Inn?"

"Polly Chine!" Hugh answered disgustedly. "A great strapping red-cheeked clatter-tongue, who can do naught but laugh?"

"Well, if 't is not Polly, then I am all at sea, for I never knew you to do more than speak to another girl, unless--" And he paused, as something in Hugh's pleading eyes caught his attention and awoke his senses with a rush.

"Oh, Hugh--it surely is not--" But Knollys interrupted him.

"Yes, Jack," he said with slow earnestness, "it is--Dorothy."

Silence followed this avowal, and Jack's hand fell from his friend's shoulder. Then with an incredulous laugh he said: "Dorothy--why she is little more than a baby, with no thought beyond her horse and other pets. 'T was not long since I came upon her playing at dolls with little 'Bitha."

"She will be seventeen her next birthday," Hugh retorted with some impatience; "and that is but a year less than Mary Broughton's age."

"Yes," Jack admitted. "But it is several months yet to Dot's birthday; and those months, nor yet another year, can scarce give to my little sister the womanly depth for sentiment and suffering that Mary now possesses."

"Think ye so, Jack?" said Hugh, as though inclined to argue the matter.

"You know 't is odd, sometimes, how little we guess aright the nature of those akin to us, however dear we may love them."

The young man sighed as he thought of the look he caught in Dorothy's eyes when the olive-faced horseman uncovered his handsome head, and also recalled the flushing of her cheeks at his mother's banter.

Jack's hand was now once more upon Hugh's shoulder, and he said in his warm, impulsive way: "See here, old fellow, I'd sooner have you for a brother than any other man I know; and my father is well-nigh certain to approve. Only I feel sure he would say what I now ask of you, and that is, not to speak of such matters to little Dot--not yet awhile; for it would only risk making her think of what otherwise might never come into that wilful head of hers. And while there seem to be such grave matters gathering for our attention, it were best not to give her heart aught to trouble over."

"Then you admit she might be woman enough to take to heart whatever ill would come to me?" Hugh asked eagerly.

Jack's answer was guarded, although not lacking in kindly feeling.

"The child has a warm heart, Hugh, and has known you long enough to feel deep sorrow should any evil come to you--which G.o.d forbid. But take my advice, and do not stir deeper thought in her, to make her sorrow like a woman, but let her keep her child's heart awhile longer."

After the young men had bidden each other more than a usually cordial good-night, Hugh Knollys remained seated for a long time in his own room, his hands deep in his pockets, and his legs stretched to their uttermost length. He was lost in thoughts that were neither entirely pleasurable nor yet altogether lacking in that quality.

He had loved Dorothy since she was a child, and he admired her character far more than that of any girl he had ever known. The reckless daring of her nature--the trait Aunt Penine had censured so severely, and which the others of the family regarded somewhat askance--met with a quick sympathy from his own impulsive temperament; and this last outburst of her intrepid spirit had acted like a torch to set aflame all his dreams and desires. And now the suspicion that some sort of an understanding existed between the girl and this young Britisher gave him a fierce desire to speak out, and claim for his own that which he feared the other man might seek to take from him.

And so he chafed at his friend's injunction, hoping as he did, that, could he but obtain the first hearing, the redcoat's chances might be weakened, if not destroyed altogether.

As he sat here alone, there came to him like a flash the memory of one late afternoon in a long-ago autumn, when, upon his return from a fishing-trip, he found Dorothy--then a dimpled mite of seven or eight--visiting his mother, as she often did in those days.

The child had been left to amuse herself alone; and this she did by taking down a powder-horn hanging upon the wall, filled with some cherished bullets which Hugh was h.o.a.rding as priceless treasures.

He seemed to see again the great dark room, lit only by the leaping flames from the logs piled in the open fireplace, and the little scarlet-clad child looking up with big startled eyes at his indignant face as he stood in the doorway, while the precious bullets poured in a rattling shower over the wooden' floor. He saw once more her look turn to fiery anger, as he strode over and boxed her ears; and he could hear the girlish treble crying, "Wait, Hugh Knollys, until I am as big as you, and I'll hurt you sorely for that!"

Aye, and she had already hurt him sorely, for all his breadth of shoulder and length of limb; she had hurt him in a way to make all his life a bitter sorrow should she now reject his love!

CHAPTER XIX

October had come, with an unusual glory of late wild-flowers and reddened leaves.

The soldiers were still quartered upon the Neck, and owing to the many collisions between them and the townspeople, the Governor had seen fit to augment the force. Several times the citizens had almost determined to march to the Neck and exterminate the entire body of Britishers; but wiser counsels prevailed, and no attack was made.

Governor Gage had issued a proclamation forbidding the a.s.sembling of the legislature which had been called to meet at Salem upon the fifth of the month. But notwithstanding this interdiction it had convened upon the appointed day, and resolved itself into a Provincial Congress.

Azar Orne, Jeremiah Lee, and Elbridge Gerry were the delegates representing Marblehead, and they took a prominent part in the proceedings. A number of important matters were discussed and acted upon, and a committee was appointed for "Observation and Prevention,"

and with instructions to "co-operate with other towns in the Province for preventing any of the inhabitants, so disposed, from supplying the English troops with labor, lumber, bricks, spars, or any other material whatsoever, except such as humanity requires."

The loyalists in the town were still zealous in the King's cause, and would not be silenced. And they entreated their neighbors and friends to recede, before it became too late, from the position they had taken.

But the only reply of the patriots was, "Death rather than submission!"

And they went on making provision for the organization of an army of their own.

Companies of "Minute Men" were enlisted, and these were disciplined and equipped. A compensation of two shillings per day was to be allowed each private; and to sergeants, drummers, fifers, and clerks, three shillings each. First and second lieutenants were to receive four shillings sixpence, and captains, five shillings. Pay was to be allowed for but three days in each week, although a service of four hours a day was required.

The town house was now filled--as were also most of the warehouses and other buildings--with the stored goods of Boston merchants, who were suffering from the operation of the Port Bill, which had closed that harbor to their business. And owing to this, as also by reason of the greater advantage afforded for securing privacy, the townsmen now held their meetings at the old tavern on Front Street, which faced the water, thus giving a good opportunity for observing the movements of the enemy upon the Neck.

John Glover, one of the town's foremost men, and a stanch patriot, lived near here; and he was now at the head of the regiment in which were John Devereux and Hugh Knollys,--the former being second lieutenant in the company of which Nicholson Broughton was captain, and in whose ranks Hugh was serving as a private.

Soon after his return from Boston, Broughton had closed his own house, deeming it too much exposed to the enemy for the safety of his daughter, who was compelled during his many absences to remain there alone with the servants; and Mary had gone with them to the house of a married aunt--Mistress Horton--living in a more retired portion of the town, away from the water.

He had consented, in response to the urging of his prospective son-in-law, that the wedding should take place before the winter was over. And thus it was that Mary, being busy with preparations for the event, left Dorothy much to herself,--more, perhaps, than was well for her at this particular time.

Aunt Penine had departed upon the day her brother-in-law fixed; but under Aunt Lettice's mild guidance, coupled with Tyntie's efficient rule, the household went on fully as well as before,--better, indeed, in many respects, for there was no opposing will to make discord.