The World's Greatest Books - Volume 2 Part 48

There was a mutual exchange of polite courtesy between the host and his parting guest, and as Harper frankly offered his hand to Captain Wharton, he remarked, "The step you have undertaken is one of much danger, and disagreeable consequences to yourself may result from it. In such a case I may have it in my power to prove the grat.i.tude I owe your family for its kindness."

"Surely, sir," cried the father, "you will keep secret the discovery which your being in my house has enabled you to make?"

Harper turned to the speaker, and answered mildly, "I have learned nothing in your family, sir, of which I was ignorant; but your son is safer from my knowledge of his visit than he would be without it."

And, bowing to the whole party, he rode gracefully through the little gate, and was soon lost to view.

"Captain Wharton, do you go in to-night?" asked the pedlar abruptly, when this scene had closed.

"No!" said the captain laconically.

"I rather guess you had better shorten your visit," continued the pedlar, coolly.

"No, no, Mr. Birch; here I stay till morning! I brought myself out, and can take myself in. Our bargain went no further than to procure my disguise and to let me know when the coast was clear, and in the latter particular you were mistaken."

"I was," said the pedlar, "and the greater the reason why you should go back to-night. The pa.s.s I gave you will serve but once."

"Here I stay this night, come what will."

"Captain Wharton," said the pedlar, with great deliberation, "beware a tall Virginian with huge whiskers; he is below you; the devil can't deceive him; I never could but once."

_III.--A Dangerous Situation_

The family were a.s.sembled round the breakfast-table in the morning when Caesar, who was looking out of the window, exclaimed, "Run, Ma.s.sa Harry, run; here come the rebel horse."

Captain Wharton's sisters, with trembling hands, had hastily replaced the original disguise, when the house was surrounded by dragoons, and the heavy tread of a trooper was heard outside the parlour door. The man who now entered the room was of colossal stature, with dark hair around his brows in profusion, and his face nearly hid in the whiskers by which it was disfigured. Frances saw in him at once the man from whose scrutiny Harvey Birch had warned them there was much to be apprehended.

"Has there been a strange gentleman staying with you during the storm?"

asked the dragoon.

"This gentleman here favoured us with his company during the rain,"

stammered Mr. Wharton.

"This gentleman!" repeated the other, as he contemplated Captain Wharton with a lurking smile, and then, with a low bow, continued, "I am sorry for the severe cold you have in your head, sir, causing you to cover your handsome locks with that ugly old wig."

Then, turning to the father, he proceeded, "Then, sir, I am to understand a Mr. Harper has not been here?"

"Mr. Harper?" echoed the other; "yes, I had forgotten; but he is gone, and if there is anything wrong in his character we are in entire ignorance of it."

"He is gone--how, when, and whither?"

"He departed as he arrived," said Mr. Wharton, gathering confidence, "on horseback, last evening; he took the northern road."

The officer turned on his heel, left the apartment, and gave orders which sent some of the hors.e.m.e.n out of the valley, by its various roads, at full speed.

Then, re-entering the room, he walked up to Wharton, and said, with some gravity, "Now, sir, may I beg to examine the quality of that wig? And if I could persuade you to exchange this old surtout for that handsome blue coat, I think you never could witness a more agreeable metamorphosis."

Young Wharton made the necessary changes, and stood an extremely handsome, well-dressed young man.

"I am Captain Lawton, of the Virginian Horse," said the dragoon.

"And I, sir, am Captain Wharton, of His Majesty's 60th Regiment of Foot," returned Henry, bowing.

The countenance of Lawton changed from quaintness to great earnestness, as he exclaimed, "Then, Captain Wharton, from my soul I pity you!"

Captain Lawton now inquired if a pedlar named Birch did not live in the valley.

"At times only, I believe, sir," replied Mr. Wharton cautiously. "He is seldom here; I may say I never see him."

"What is the offence of poor Birch?" asked the aunt.

"Poor!" cried the captain; "if he is poor, King George is a bad paymaster."

"I am sorry," said Mr. Wharton, "that any neighbour of mine should incur displeasure."

"If I catch him," cried the dragoon, "he will dangle from the limbs of one of his namesakes."

In the course of the morning Major Dunwoodie, who was an old friend of the family, and the lover of Frances, the younger daughter, arrived, took over the command of the troop, and inquired into the case of his friend the prisoner.

"How did you pa.s.s the pickets in the plains?" he asked.

"In disguise," replied Captain Wharton; "and by the use of this pa.s.s, for which I paid, and which, as it bears the name of Washington, is, I presume, forged."

Dunwoodie caught the paper eagerly, and after gazing at the signature for some time, said, "This name is no counterfeit. The confidence of Washington has been abused. Captain Wharton, my duty will not suffer me to grant you a parole--you must accompany me to the Highlands."

_IV.--Justice by Evasion_

The Wharton family, by order of Washington, now removed to the Highlands, out of the region of warlike operations, and Captain Wharton was brought to trial. The court condemned him to execution as a spy before nine o'clock on the morning following the trial, the president, however, expressing his intention of riding to Washington's headquarters and urging a remission of the punishment. But the sentence of the court was returned--_approved_. All seemed lost.

"Why not apply to Mr. Harper?" said Frances, recollecting for the first time the parting words of their guest.

"Harper!" echoed Dunwoodie, who had joined the family consultation.

"What of him? Do you know him?"

"He stayed with us two days. He seemed to take an interest in Henry, and promised him his friendship."

"What!" exclaimed the youth, in astonishment, "did he know your brother?"

"Certainly; it was at his request that Henry threw aside his disguise."

"But," said Dunwoodie, "he knew him not as an officer of the royal army?"

"Indeed he did, and cautioned him against this very danger, bidding him apply to him when in danger and promising to requite the son for the hospitality of the father."

"Then," cried the youth, "will I save him. Harper will never forget his word."