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Jack wheeled and looked out of a window for an instant; without turning he said, "Is she--does she--she is willing?"
"Ay, the la.s.s has at last found she loves him, and is as ready now as I ever was."
Again Brereton was silent for a breathing s.p.a.ce. "When will they wed?" he questioned finally.
"Once we can get to York."
"And that will be?"
"The burial of Mrs. Meredith and other matters will keep us in Brunswick for an uncertain length of time."
"And you will lodge where?"
"At the tavern."
"'T is no place for Miss Meredith."
"Beggars cannot be choosers, sir."
For a moment Brereton said nothing; then remarked as he faced about, "If I can serve you in any other way, Mr.
Meredith, hesitate to ask nothing of me."
"My thanks to ye, general," answered Mr. Meredith, gratefully.
"I fear me I little merit courtesy at your hands."
"'T is a peace-making time," replied Jack, "and we'll put the ill feeling away, as 't is to be hoped Great Britain and our country will do, once the treaty is negotiated and ratified."
"'T is no country I have," rejoined the squire, sadly. "One word, sir, and I will be gone. I was but just told that 't was ye who got Mrs. Meredith off the pest-ship; and if--"
Brereton held up his hand. "'T was the Marquis who gave the order, Mr. Meredith, and the Surgeon-General who superintended the removal."
"So I was told at the time, but I feared that I might have been misinformed. None the less, general, I am your present debtor;" with which words the squire bowed himself out.
Left alone, Brereton stood like a stone for some minutes ere he resumed his seat. He glanced down at the sheet, on which was written:--
Brunswick, June 13th, 1782.
"SIR,--After three months' test, I can a.s.sure your Excellency that it is possible to very materially if not entirely check the illicit trade with New York, but only by the constant employment of a considerable force of men in a service at once fatiguing to them and irritating to the neighbourhood. I would therefore suggest, in place of these purely repressive measures, that others which will at once bring to justice those most deeply concerned in the trade, and terrify by example those who are only occasionally guilty, be employed, and therefore beg to submit for your consideration the following plan of action.
Shoving the paper to one side, Brereton took a fresh sheet, and wrote a hurried letter, which, when sealed, he addressed to "Lady Washington, Headquarters at Greenwood Manor."
This done, he finished his official letter, and going to the rows of tents on the green, he delivered the two into the hands of an officer, with an order to ride with them at once.
On the following day a coach drew up in front of the Continental Tavern, and with much dignity a negro in livery alighted from the seat beside the driver.
"You will deliber Lady Washington's an' my deferential complimen's to Miss Janice Meredith; likewise dis letter from his Excellency," he said grandly to the tavern-keeper.
"Waal, of all airs fer a n.i.g.g.e.r!" snorted mine host. "Duz his Excellency run yer jobs fer yer ter hum? Guess yer ain't so fat, be yer, that yer keant carry that inter the settin'-room yerself."
With a glance of outraged dignity that should have annihilated the publican, the man went across the hall, and after a knock, entered.
"Why, Billy!" exclaimed Janice, starting up from her chair, her arm outstretched.
The intense dignity melted away in a breath, and the darky chuckled and slapped himself with delight as he took the hand. "Der, now!" he cried, "I dun a.s.sure her Ladyship dat Missy would remember Billy. Here am a letter from his Excellency, Miss."
Opening it, Janice read it out to her father:--
Headquarters, 14 June, 1782.
Dear Miss Janice,--In writing this I but act as Mrs.
Washington's scribe, she having an invincible dislike to the use of a pen. She hopes and begs that you will favour us with the honour of your company for a time at Headquarters, and to this I would add my own persuasions were I not sure that hers will count above mine. However, let me say that it will be a personal gratification to me if you give us now the pleasure I have several times counted upon in the past. Thinking to make more certain of your granting this request, and that you may make the journey without discomfort, Mrs. Washington sends her coach.
I most sincerely regretted not seeing you at Yorktown, the more that Lord Cornwallis a.s.sured me when he dined with me on the evening after the surrender, that he would secure your presence at the banquet he tendered to the French and American officers; but I was still more grieved when told the reason for your refusal to grace the occasion by your presence.
The sudden sickness of poor Mr. Custis, which compelled me to hasten away from York, and the affecting circ.u.mstance of his untimely death threw Mrs. Washington and Mrs.
Ba.s.sett, who were both present, into such deep distress that I could not find it in my heart to leave Eltham, once the funeral rites were performed. The Marquis has since a.s.sured me that nothing was neglected which could be of comfort or service to your mother, and I trust that he speaks informedly. I have just learned of your loss, and hasten to tender you both Mrs.
Washington's and my own sympathy on this melancholy occasion.
Be a.s.sured that your company will truly gratify both me and the partner of all my Domestic enjoyments, and that I am, my dear young lady, with every sentiment of respect and esteem, Yr most obedt hble servt Go Washington.
"'T is the very thing I'd have for ye, Jan," exclaimed the squire.
"Oh, dadda, I'll not leave you."
"That ye shall, for I'll be busy with this scheme of Bagby's, and the tavern is no place for ye, child, let alone what ye'll be forever dwelling on if ye have no distraction."
"An' his Excellency," said the messenger, "done tell me to say dat he done holds you' parole ob honour, an' dat, if you doan' come back with me in de coach, he done send de provost gyard to fotch youse under arrest. What 's mo, Miss, dat big villin, Blueskin, will be powerful joyed to see youse again."
LXIV A SETTLING OF OLD SCORES
On a night of the most intense darkness a strange-looking craft was stealing slowly up the Raritan, quite as much helped in its progress by the flood-tide as by the silent stroke of the oars, about which were wound cloths where they rubbed against the thole-pins. The rowers knelt on the bottom of the boat, so that nothing but their heads projected above the gunwale, which set low in the water, and to which were tied branches of trees, concealing it so completely that at ten feet distance on any ordinarily clear night it would have been difficult to know that it was not a drifting limb.
Lying at full length in the bottom of the boat were two men, one of whom from time to time moved impatiently.
"Will we never get there?" he finally whispered.
"Slow work it is," replied the other, in the lowest of voices, "but it has to be done careful."
"I understood you the river was open once more."
"Ay. We had word the regiments had been withdrawn, to go north with the main army; but this is only the second night the boats have ventured in, and cautious we've always had to be."
The note of a crow came floating over the water, and at the sound the last speaker raised himself on his elbow and deliberately began counting in a low voice. As he spoke the number "ten," once again came the discordant "caw, caw,"
and instantly the counter opened his mouth and sent forth an admirable imitation of the cry of a screech-owl. Counting once again to ten, he repeated the shriek, then listened.
In a moment the first splash of oars reached them.
"This way," softly called the man, and put out his hand to prevent a small boat colliding with the larger one.
"Thought I heard a bird just now," remarked the solitary occupant.
"If you did, 't was a king bird."