The Little Red Foot Part 96

"'Stand fast, Penelope!' he pipes up, 'I will defend your life and honour!' And further he would not budge, but turns mulish, yet too feeble to lift the gun he clung to with a grip I could not loosen lest I break his bones.

"We got him, with his gun a-dragging, into the house, but could force him no farther, for he resisted and reproached me, demanding that I stand and face the enemy.

"At that, through the window of the library wing I see a body of green-coats,--some three hundred or better,--marching down the Schenectady road. And some score of these, and as many Indians, were leaving the Major's house, which they had fired; and now all began to run toward us, firing off their muskets at our house as they came on.

"I was grazed, as you see, sir, and the blow dashed out my senses for a moment. But when I came alive I found I had fallen beside the wainscot of the east wall, where is a secret spring panel made for Mr. Fonda's best books. My fall jarred it open; and into this closet I crawled; and the next moment the library was filled with the trample of yelling men.

"I heard Mistress Grant give a kind of choking cry, and, through the crack of the wainscot door, I saw a green-coat put one hand over her mouth and hold her, cursing her for a rebel s.l.u.t and telling her to hush her d.a.m.ned head or he'd do the proper business for her.

"An Indian I knew, called Quider, and having only one arm, took hold of Mr. Fonda and led him from the library and out to the lawn, where I could see them both through the west window. The Indian acted kind to the old gentleman, gave him his hat and his book and cane, and conducted him south across the lawn. I could see it all plainly through the wainscot crack.

"Then, of a sudden, the one-armed Indian swung his hatchet and clove that helpless and bewildered old man clean down to his neck cloth. And there, before all a.s.sembled, he took the old man's few white hairs for a scalp!

"Then a green-coat called out to ask why he had slain such an old and feeble man, who had often befriended him; and the one-armed Indian, Quider, replied that if he hadn't killed Douw Fonda somebody else might have done so, and so he, Quider, thought he'd do it and get the scalp-bounty for himself.

"And all this time the Indians and green-coats were running like wild wolves all over the house, stealing, destroying, yelling, flinging out books from the library shelves, ripping off curtains and bed-covers, flinging linen from chests, throwing crockery about, and keeping up a continual screeching.

"Sir, I do not know why they did not set fire to the house. I do not know how my hiding place remained unnoticed.

"From where I kneeled on the closet floor, and my face all over blood, I could see Mistress Grant across the room, sitting on a sofa, whither the cursing green-coat had flung her. She was deathly white but calm, and did not seem afraid; and she answered the filthy beasts coolly enough when they addressed her.

"Then a big chair, which they had ripped up to look for money, was pushed against my closet, and the back of it closed the wainscot crack, so that I could no longer see Mistress Grant.

"And that is all I know, sir. For the firing began again outside; they all ran out, and when I dared creep forth Mistress Grant was gone....

And I lay still for a time, and then found a jug o' rum. When I could stand up I followed the destructives at a distance. And, an hour since, I saw the last stragglers crossing the river rifts some three miles above us.... And that is all, I think, sir."

And that was all.... The end of all things.... Or so it seemed to me.

For now I cared no longer for life. The world had become horrible; the bright sunshine seemed a monstrous sacrilege where it blazed down, unveiling every detail of this ghastly Golgotha--this valley in ashes now made sacred by my dear love's martyrdom. Slowly I looked around me, still stupefied, helpless, not knowing where to seek my dead, which way to turn.

And now my dulled gaze became fixed upon the glittering river, where something was moving.... And presently I realize it was a batteau, poled slowly sh.o.r.eward by two tall riflemen in their fringes.

"Holloa! you captain-mon out yonder!" bawled one o' them, his great voice coming to me through his hollowed hand.

Leading my horse I walked toward them as in a fiery nightmare, and the sun but a vast and dancing blaze in my burning eyes. One of the riflemen leaped ash.o.r.e:

"Is anny wan alive in this place?" he began loudly; then: "Jasus! It's Captain Drogue. F'r the love o' G.o.d, asth.o.r.e! Are they all dead entirely in Caughnawaga, savin' yourself, sorr, an' the Dominie's wife an'

childer, an' the yellow-haired la.s.s o' Douw Fonda----"

I caught him by the rifle-cape. My clutch shook him; and I was shaking, too, so I could not p.r.o.nounce clearly:

"Where is Penelope Grant?" I stammered. "Where did you see her, Tim Murphy?"

"Who's that?" he demanded, striving to loosen my grip. "Ah, the poor lad, he's crazy! Lave me loose, avie! Is it the yellow-haired la.s.s ye ask for?"

"Yes--where is she?"

"G.o.d be good to you, Jack Drogue, she's on the hill yonder with Mrs.

Romeyn an' the two childer!----" He took my arm, turned me partly around, and pointed:

"D'ye mind the pine? The big wan, I mean, betchune the two ellums? 'Twas an hour since that we seen her foreninst the pine-tree yonder, an' the Romeyn childer hidin' their faces in her skirt----"

I swung my horse and flung myself across the saddle.

"She's safe, I warrant," cried Murphy, as I rode off; "Sir John's divils was gone off two hours whin we seen her safe and sound on the long hill!"

I galloped over the shattered fence which was still afire where the charred rails lay in the gra.s.s.

As I spurred up the bank opposite, I caught sight of a mounted officer on the stony Johnstown road, advancing at a trot, and behind him a ma.s.s of sweating militia jogging doggedly down hill in a rattle of pebbles and dust.

When the mounted officer saw me he shouted through the dust-cloud that Sir John had been at the Hall, seized his plate and papers, and a lot of prisoners, and had murdered innocent people in Johnstown streets.

Tim Murphy and his comrade, Elerson, also came up, calling out to the Johnstown men that they had come from Schoharie, and that both militia and Continentals were marching to the Valley.

There was some cheering. I pushed my horse impatiently through the crowd and up the hill. But a little way farther on the road was choked with troops arriving on a run; and they had brought cohorns and their ammunition waggon, and G.o.d knows what!--alas! too late to oppose or punish the blood-drenched demons who had turned the Caughnawaga Valley to a smoking h.e.l.l.

Now, my horse was involved with all these excited people, and I, exasperated, thought I never should get clear of the soldiery and cohorns, but at length pushed a way through to the woods on my right, and spurred my mare into them and among the larger elms and pines where sheep had pastured, and there was less brush.

I could not see the great pine now, but thought I had marked it down; and so bore again to the right, where through the woods I could see a glimmer of sun along cleared land.

It was rocky; my horse slipped and I was obliged to walk him upward among stony places, where moss grew green and deep.

And now, through a fringe of saplings, I caught a glimpse of the two elms and the tall pine between.

"Penelope!" I cried. Then I saw her.

She was standing as once she stood the first time ever I laid eyes on her. The sun shone in her face and made of her yellow hair a glory. And I saw her naked feet shining snow white, ankle deep in the wet gra.s.s.

As though sun-dazzled she drew one hand swiftly across her eyes when I rode up, leaned over, and swung her up into my arms. And earth and sky and air became one vast and thrilling void through which no sound stirred save the wild beating of her heart and mine.

Then, as from an infinite distance, came a thin cry, piercing our still paradise.

Her arms loosened on my neck; we looked down as in a dream; and there were the little Romeyn children in the gra.s.s, naked in their shifts, and holding tightly to my stirrup.

And now we saw light hors.e.m.e.n leading their mounts this way, and the poor Dominie's lady carried on a trooper's saddle, her bare foot clinging to the shortened stirrup.

Other troopers lifted the children to their saddles; a great hubbub began below us along the Schenectady highway, where I now heard drums and the shrill marching music of an arriving regiment.

I reached behind me, unstrapped my military mantle, clasped it around Penelope, swathed her body warmly, and linked up the chain. Then I touched Kaya with my left knee--she guiding left at such slight pressure--and we rode slowly over the sheep pasture and then along the sheep-walk, westward until we arrived at the bars. The bars were down and lay scattered over the gra.s.s. And thus we came quietly out into the Johnstown road.

So still lay Penelope in my arms that I thought, at times, she was asleep; but ever, as I bent over her, her dark eyes unclosed, gazing up at me in tragic silence.

Cautiously we advanced along the Johnstown road, Kaya cantering where the way was easy.

We pa.s.sed ruined houses, still smoking, but Penelope did not see them.

And once I saw a dead man lying near a blackened cellar; and a dead hound near him.