In Hostile Red Part 18

"I shall report you to the commander-in-chief himself unless you search it," she said, looking at me steadily.

There could be no mistake; her manner and her tone alike indicated decision, and that I must obey. Yet I did not withhold these words,--

"I know that you are a Tory, Miss Desmond, but I did not think that you would go to such extremes."

She made no reply, and surrendering all hope for Marcel and myself, I turned the bolt and threw open the little door of the alcove.

It was empty!

I stood still, too much surprised to speak; relief, at that moment, not having any part in my emotions, although it came later.

"You know now, Lieutenant Melville, that your belief is as false as it was unjust," said Miss Desmond, proudly. "You have wronged my father."

"It is true," I confessed; and I confessed too, though not aloud, that perhaps I had wronged some one else yet more. Then I called to Blathwayt and censured him for overlooking the alcove.

"The fugitive might have lain there safely hidden from all of us," I said, "but I saw the place, and perhaps we may find others like it."

He admitted his error humbly, and we pa.s.sed to the other floors. Here the feeling of relief disappeared from my mind, as we would surely find Alloway near the roof since he was not in the cellar. We searched three rooms, and then I put my hand upon the bolt fastening the door of the third.

"It is my bedroom," said Miss Desmond.

"I regret to say that I am compelled to search it too," I replied.

She bowed, making no further opposition, and, turning the key, I entered. It was a large, light apartment. In a corner the high bed stood within its white curtains, there were heavy rugs on the floor, a little round table of ebony, and at the far end of the room, tongs and shovel of bra.s.s hung beside the grate, in which two brazen fire dogs upheld haughty heads. It was a handsome room, worthy of its mistress, and yet I could not spare it. I looked everywhere,--behind the curtains, under the bed, and in the clothes-closets,--but I did not find Alloway.

When I finished Miss Desmond said to me,--

"I hope you believe that no man is concealed in my room."

The color had risen in her cheeks, and I replied in great haste,--

"I have not believed it any time, Miss Desmond, and only my duty compelled me to look here."

What a consoling word those four little letters, "d-u-t-y," sometimes spell! Blathwayt came to me the next moment, and reported that he had searched the upper rooms and the garret without finding the lost soldier. "But what a house it would be to loot!" he added in a whisper to me, showing, like his comrade, those predatory instincts which the British soldier often loves to indulge.

I pretended to a belief that he had not searched well the top of the house, and to show my zeal insisted upon conducting a hunt in those regions myself. But I thought, as I ascended the last stairway, that it would be rather a grim joke on me, if I found Alloway there after Blathwayt had failed to do so. But no such bad luck happened, and ten minutes later I announced with great but secret joy that his Britannic Majesty's army in Philadelphia had done Mr. Desmond an injustice; no soldier was concealed in his house, and I was sure that none ever had been. But while I said this I was wondering what had become of Alloway; he had entered the Desmond house, I knew beyond a doubt, and he must be in it yet, hidden in some secret recess. Well, at any rate, the luck which Marcel claimed was watching over us was still on guard.

"I shall be pleased to tell your father how vain our search has been," I said to Miss Desmond. But Mr. Desmond was yet in his own room and would not come forth. The haughty old Quaker, as was evident to us all, considered this search of his house a piece of gross insolence.

"I trust that I shall never again be sent on such an errand," I said to Miss Desmond as we prepared to go.

She made the formal reply that she hoped so too, and I could read nothing in her eyes. I was sure now that she had never known of Alloway's presence in the house. Then I took my soldiers and went into the street.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN--_Hessian Wrath_

There was a narrow lawn in front of Mr. Desmond's house, and between that and the street an ornate iron fence. As I opened the gate that permitted egress, I saw Belfort and Schwarzfelder leaning upon the fence, while Waters hovered near. The two officers were twirling their mustaches after the most approved style of Old World dandies, and were looking at me in a manner that I could interpret only as insolent. I inferred at once that they and the Frenchman Waters were responsible for the search, and had gone there to enjoy a triumph containing the sweetest of flavor, my exposure and disgrace compelled by my own act. I became sure of it when I saw the look of triumph on the faces of Belfort and Schwarzfelder give way to one of surprise and disappointment.

"Where is your prisoner, Lieutenant Melville?" exclaimed Belfort, unable to control himself.

I gave him a stare as haughty as I knew how to make it.

"Did I understand you to ask where my prisoner was, Lieutenant Belfort?"

I asked.

Both he and Schwarzfelder nodded.

"Permit me to remark that this is very extraordinary," I said, continuing my haughty manner, which suited my state of mind. "I am sent on a secret errand of great importance by Sir William Howe, and before I can report to him I am called to account concerning it in the streets of Philadelphia by one of his Majesty's sub-lieutenants. Or perhaps I have made a mistake, and General Howe has resigned in your favor. Do I have the pleasure of addressing General Belfort, and not Lieutenant Belfort?"

I gave him an extremely polite bow as I added the last sentence, and my tone grew most humble. But he did not seem to appreciate my homage. His face turned red.

"Lieutenant Melville," he said, "I shall have satisfaction for this insolence."

"Don't make a fuss about it," I said lightly. "I was merely speaking for your good, because if I had reported to you earlier than to Sir William he might have resented it. Still, I don't mind telling you, lieutenant, that we did not find the man, although we searched the house most thoroughly."

I was now happy, feeling my triumph somewhat, which may account for my levity; but the mention of the prisoner again set Belfort on fire.

"Did you look everywhere?" he asked eagerly. "It is certain that he took refuge there."

"Oh yes, sir!" interrupted Blathwayt, touching his cap, "we searched every square inch of the house, and it was impossible for a man to be hid there, and us not find him."

It was disrespectful of Blathwayt to interrupt when his superiors were talking, but for obvious reasons I did not correct him.

"He must have been there! he must have been there!" repeated Belfort, in disappointed tones. "Schwarzfelder says that he saw him dart among the shrubbery around the house, and he did not come out of it again last night."

So it was Schwarzfelder who had played the spy! But even so, he had not seen me give Alloway the warning or he would have betrayed me at once. I began to bear towards Schwarzfelder a feeling akin to that I felt for Belfort.

"I think that Colonel Schwarzfelder must have been mistaken," I said.

"It is well known that our valiant Hessian officers often see double, especially when it is so late at night. Forward, march, men!"

I gave the order in a loud, peremptory tone, and my soldiers marched at once in their stiffest and most precise manner. Schwarzfelder was standing in the middle of the pavement, and they would have walked into him had he not skipped to one side in the most undignified way. I think that they would have been glad to do it, as generally the English soldiers hated the Hessians.

Schwarzfelder glowered at me, first because I had taunted him with his German drunkenness and the memory of his ejection from Sir William's headquarters, and secondly because in a metaphorical sense I had thrown him off the sidewalk. But he said nothing. He was choking too badly over his German wrath to enunciate words. I marched on with my men, leaving him and Belfort to concoct whatever mischief they would.

The man Waters, whom in truth I dreaded more than either Belfort or Schwarzfelder, had drawn somewhat nearer and was gazing steadily at me.

"Are you too looking for this American soldier, Waters?" I asked. "It seems that the commander-in-chief is receiving a great deal of voluntary a.s.sistance."

"Your pardon, sir," said Waters, with respect, or the a.s.sumption of it, "but I could not help hearing what the search was about, and I was merely wondering if that old rebel John Desmond was caught at last."

"Mr. Desmond may be a rebel," I replied angrily, "but it is not for you to speak of him in such a manner."

"I beg your pardon, sir, if I was presumptuous," he said meekly, dropping his eyes. Yet I was sure that he was deriding me, and I walked off, feeling an unpleasant chill again. I reported duly to Sir William that the search had brought forth nothing, and he expressed disappointment.

"I cannot understand how the man escaped," he said thoughtfully. "It was told to me that he was in the Desmond house, and I should have been glad to find him there, because it would give me a power over this rebellious old Quaker which I should be glad to use. I chose you for the task because I felt sure of your loyalty and devotion to the king, and also I know that you are a good friend of mine. There might have been promotion in it for you."