She Would Be a Soldier Part 4

CHRISTINE. [_Aside._] What is to be done? I have not a moment to lose; my father is stern and unyielding--I know his temper too well, to hope that my entreaties will prevail with him--the farmer is rich, and gold is a powerful tempter. I must be gone--follow Lenox, and in disguise, to avoid this hateful match. I'll in, whilst un.o.bserved.

[_Enters the cottage._

JASPER. Come, sit down, farmer and neighbours; and you, my pretty lads and la.s.ses, let's have a dance. Ah, here is a foraging party.

[_Enter SOLDIERS._

_Party dance--several pastoral and fancy dances--and as the whole company retires, CHRISTINE comes from the cottage with cautious steps--she is dressed in a frock coat, pantaloons and hat._

CHRISTINE. They are gone--now to escape. Scenes of my infancy--of many a happy hour, farewell! Oh, farewell, forever!

[_Exit._

_JASPER and JERRY return._

JERRY. She refused me plumply.

JASPER. Impossible!

JERRY. No, it's quite possible. Farmer, said she, I will _not_ marry you--and hang me if there's any joke in that.

JASPER. Refuse an honest man? A wealthy one, too? And one whom her father gives to her? Trifling girl! Insensible to her happiness and interest. What objections had she to you, farmer?

JERRY. Objections! Oh, none in the world, only she wouldn't marry me; she didn't seem struck at all with my person.

JASPER. Mere coyness--maiden bashfulness.

JERRY. So I thought, sergeant Jasper, and was going to give her a little kiss, when she gave me such a look, and such a push, as quite astounded me.

JASPER. I will seek and expostulate with the stubborn girl. Ah, Jerry, times have strangely altered, when young women choose husbands for themselves, with as much ease and indifference, as a ribbon for their bonnet.

[_Enters the cottage._

JERRY. So they do--the little independent creatures as they are--but what Miss Crissy could see in me to refuse, hang me if I can tell. I'm call'd as sprightly a fellow as any in our county, and up to everything--always ready for fun, and perfectly good-natured.

[_Enter JASPER from the cottage, agitated._

JASPER. She is nowhere to be found--she has gone off and left her poor old father. In her room, I found these lines scrawled with a pencil: "You have driven your daughter from you, by urging a match that was hateful to her. Was her happiness not worth consulting?" What's to be done? Where has she gone? Ah, a light breaks in upon me--to the camp--to the camp!

JERRY. Oho! I smell a rat too--she's gone after Mr. Lenox, the infantry ossifer. Oh, the young jade! But come along, old soger--get your hat and cane, and we'll go arter her--I'm a magistrate, and will bring her back by a habes corpus.

[_They enter the cottage._

SCENE II. _A Wood._

_Enter CHRISTINE in haste, looking back with fear._

CHRISTINE. On, on, or I shall be pursued and o'ertaken--I have lost my way. Ah, yonder is the camp--I see the flags and tents--a short time and I shall be with you, dear Lenox.

[_Exit._

_Enter JASPER, JERRY and PEASANTS._

JERRY. We're on the right track, farmer; I know all tracks--used to 'em when I hunt 'possums.

JASPER. Cruel girl! to desert her old father, who has ever been kind and affectionate.

JERRY. Cruel girl! to desert me, who intended to be so very affectionate, if he had given me a chance.

JASPER. We cannot be far from the outposts, let us continue our search.

[_Exeunt._

SCENE III. _A Camp. A row of tents in the rear with camp flags at equal distances; on the right wing is a neat marquee, and directly opposite to it another. Sentinels on duty at each marquee._

_Enter from the marquee, LENOX and ADELA._

LENOX. I never was more surprised! just when I had brush'd up my arms, and prepared to meet the enemy, who should I find in camp but you, my old hoyden scholar. Why Adela, you have grown nearly as tall as a grenadier, and as pretty--zounds, I would kiss you, if I dare.

ADELA. I am delighted to see you, dear Lenox; you are still as gay and amiable as when you taught your little Adela to conjugate verbs, and murder French; I heard of your gallantry and wounds, and imagined I should see you limping on crutches, with a green patch over one eye, and a wreath of laurel around your head, a kind of limping, one-eyed cupid; but I find you recovered from your wounds, and ready for new ones, my soldier.

LENOX. Bravo! the little skipping girl, who was once so full of mischief, has grown a tall and beautiful woman. But what brings you to camp, Adela? What have you to do with "guns and drums? heaven save the mark!"

ADELA. Why, my father wrote for me, expecting that the campaign was drawing to a close; but scarcely had I arrived here, when intelligence reached us that the enemy, in force, had occupied a position near Chippewa; it was too late to return, so I remained to see a little skirmishing.

LENOX. And are you prepared to endure the privations of a camp?

ADELA. Oh, it is delightful! it is something out of the common order of things, something new--such echoing of bugles--glistening of fire-arms, and nodding of plumes--such marchings and countermarchings--and such pretty officers too, Lenox; but then a terrible accident happened to me the other day.

LENOX. Aye, what was it?

ADELA. Why you must know, that I accompanied my father, who with his suite, and a small detachment, went out on a reconnoitering project.--Just as we _debouched_ from the wood, according to the military phrase, we came suddenly and unexpectedly on a foraging party of the enemy, who began to fight and retreat at the same time.

LENOX. Well?

ADELA. My horse happening to be an old trooper, the moment the bugles sounded, and he heard the prattle of the small arms, he dashed in amongst them, and there was I screaming in a most delightful style, which, by some, must have been mistaken for a war-whoop, and to mend the matter, a very polite and accomplished Indian took aim at me with his rifle, and actually shot away the plume from my hat, which, I dare say, was as valuable a prize to him as I should have been.

LENOX. And how did you escape from your perilous situation?

ADELA. Oh, I soon recovered my fright, and reined in my old horse; my father and a few soldiers cut in before me, and covered my retreat, so that in the conclusion of this little affair, I gained a feather in my cap, though the enemy carried off the plume; and I found myself at last on the field of battle, as cool as any hero in the army.

LENOX. And so, my lively Adela, you have been fairly introduced to Mars and Bellona; how do you like them?

ADELA. Prodigiously. I find, after all, that courage is something like a cold bath; take the first plunge, and all is over. Lord, Lenox, how delightful it would have been, had I been armed and fought gallantly in that affair; my name would have been immortalized like Joan of Arc's.

Congress would have voted me a medal, I should have had a public dinner at Tammany-Hall, and his honour the mayor would have made me one of his prettiest speeches, in presenting me with the freedom of the great city in a gold box.