Janice Meredith Part 95

"Meredith," he whispered, as if his larynx were parched beyond the ability to speak aloud, while with one hand he held his throat in a vain attempt to make his speech less weak and raucous, "they say 'The Parley' has been beat and a flag sent out, and that the post is to be surrendered. Tell me that Cornwallis will never do that. He 's a brave man. Tell me it is n't so."

"Nothing else is there for him to do, Clowes. He 's made a splendid defence, but now scarce a gun is left mounted and powder and shot are both exhausted; to persist longer would be useless murder."

"No, no! Let him hold out a few days longer. Clinton will relieve us yet. He must n't give up. G.o.d! Meredith, they'll hang me! He must n't surrender. I can't die just as life is worth something. No, no! I can't die now. I'm rich. Ninety thousand pounds I've made. To be caught like a rat! He must n't surrender the post." And muttering to himself, the miserable man shambled away, to repeat the same hopes and expostulations to the next one he found.

"He had another fit last night," remarked the squire; "and no one has seen him eat or sleep in four days, nor can he be persuaded to either, but goes wandering unceasingly about the town, quite unminding of shot and sh.e.l.l. Ho! what 's here?"

he ended, pointing up the street.

Three officers were coming towards them, arm in arm, the two outsiders in red coats, and the middle one in a blue one, with buff facings. Occasionally as they advanced, he in the blue uniform swerved or stumbled slightly, as if he might be wounded or drunk. But one look at his face was sufficient to show the cause, for across his eyes was tied a broad white band.

"Oh, dadda," murmured Janice, suddenly paling, "'t is Colonel Brereton they have captured!"

"Nonsense, Jan! 't is impossible to know any man, so covered."

The girl attempted no rea.s.sertion, and as the three officers marched up to the headquarters, the two hastily rose from the steps.

"Ha!" exclaimed one of the British officers. "Here stands Miss Meredith now, Colonel Brereton, as if to end your doubting of my a.s.surances of her being alive."

The blindfolded man, with a quick motion, withdrew the hand pa.s.sed through the arm of his guide and raised it impulsively to the bandage.

"Hold," warningly said the British officer, as he caught the hand. "Small wonder the handkerchief becomes intolerable, with her to look at, but stay on it must till you are within doors."

Jack's hand clutched the officer's arm. "G.o.d! man, you are not deceiving me?"

"Speak up, Miss Meredith, and convince the sceptic that General O'Hara, though Irish, is yet a truth-teller on occasion."

"Oh, Colonel Brereton," said Janice, "I have just left Sir Frederick, who is at the point of death, and he gave me a message of farewell to you. Can you not go to him for a moment? 'T would be everything to him."

Jack hesitated. "My mission is so important--General O'Hara, wilt deliver this letter with a proper explanation to his Lordship, while I see this friend?"

"Certainly. If Miss Meredith will guide you and Lord Chewton to where he lies, I'll see that Lord Cornwallis gets the letter."

In the briefest possible time Brereton stood beside Mobray.

Yet when the officer in charge of him untied the handkerchief and stepped back out of hearing, Jack's eyes did not seek his friend, but turned instead to the face of the girl standing beside him. For a moment they lingered in a gaze so steadfast, so devouring, that, try as she would not to look at him, Janice's eyes were drawn to his, despite herself. With a long breath, as if relieved of some dread, Jack finally turned away and knelt beside his friend. "Fred, old comrade," he said, as he took his hand.

"Charlie!" gasped Mobray, weakly, as his eyes opened.

"Is 't really you, or am I wandering?"

"'T is I, Fred, come into town with a flag."

"You've beat old Britain, after all, have n't you?"

"No, dear lad," replied Jack, gently. "'T is the old spirit of England that has conquered, as it ever will, when fighting for its rights against those who would rob it of them."

"True. We forgot 't was our own whelps, grown strong, we sought to subjugate. And you had the better man to lead you, Jack."

"Ay, and so we ever shall, so long as Britain makes men generals because they are king's b.a.s.t.a.r.ds."

"Nay, Charlie, don't let the sore rankle through life. 'T is not from whence you came that counts; 't is what you are.

I'd take your shame of birth, if I could rid myself of mine.

Fortune, position, and opportunity I've wasted, while you have won rank and glory."

"And now have not one thing to make life worth the while."

"Don't say it, Charlie. There's something for you to live for still. Put your hand into my shirt--yes--to the left-- now you have it."

Brereton drew forth a miniature set with brilliants; and as his eyes lit upon it, he gave an exclamation of surprise.

"'T is the one thing I concealed from my creditors,"

moaned Sir Frederick, "and now I leave it to you. Watch over and care for her for the sake of your love and of mine, Charlie."

Brereton leaned down and kissed Mobray on the cheek, as he whispered, "I will."

"Is--is Miss Meredith here, Charlie?" asked the dying baronet.

"Yes, Sir Frederick," replied Janice, with a choke.

"I--I--I fear I am a ghastly object," he went on, "but could you bring yourself--Am I too horrible for one kiss of farewell from you? Charlie will not grudge it to me."

The girl knelt beside Brereton, and stooping tenderly kissed the dying man on the same spot that Jack had kissed.

Mobray's left hand feebly took hers, and, consciously or unconsciously, brought the one which still held Jack's to it.

Holding the two hands within his own so that they touched, he said chokingly:--

"Heaven bless you, and try to forgive him. Good-by both.

I have served my term, and at last am released from the bigger jail." A little shudder, a twitch, and he was dead.

For a minute the two remained kneeling, then Brereton said sadly:--

"He was the only friend left me in the world, and I know not why he is taken and I am left." He withdrew his hand from contact with the girl's, and rose. "I cannot stay, for my mission is not to be slighted, but I will speak to O'Hara, and see that he gets a funeral befitting his rank."

Brereton squared his shoulders and raised his voice, to say: "Lord Chewton, I am--"

With a quick motion, the girl rose to her feet and said: "I have no right to detain you, Colonel Brereton, but--but I want you to know that neither dadda nor I knew the truth concerning Mrs. Loring when we said what we did on that fatal night. We both thought--thought--Your confession to me that once you loved her, and her looking too young to be your mother, led me into a misconception."

"Then you forgive me?" he cried eagerly.

"For the words you spoke then I do not even blame you, sir. But what was, can never be again."

"Ay," said the officer, bitterly. "You need not say it. You cannot scorn me more than I scorn myself."

Not giving her time to reply, he crossed to where the officer with the bandage stood waiting him, and once again was blindfolded, and led to headquarters.

"This way," directed General O'Hara, leading him into a room where stood Cornwallis.

"Are you familiar, sir, with the contents of General Washington's letter?" asked the earl.

"No, my Lord; I was its bearer only because I begged the Marquis de Lafayette to secure me the service."

"He grants a suspension of hostilities for two hours from the delivery of this, for me to put my proposals in writing.