The Bride Of Fort Edward: Founded On An Incident Of The Revolution Part 20

_Jan_. But Captain Grey will come back here again this afternoon.

Stay,--stay, and we will go with him.

_Helen_. You can--yes, you will be safe. For myself, I will abide my choice. Surely I need not dread to go where my betrothed husband trusts me so fearlessly. I count my life worth little more than the price at which he values it. Clasp this mantle, Netty.--And is it thus I go forth from these blessed walls at last?--Through all those safe and quiet hours of peace and trust, did this dark end to them lie waiting here?--Are they calling me?

_Jan_. Yes.

_Helen_. Well,--I am ready. (_Lingering in the door_.) I shall sit by that window no more. Never again shall I turn those blinds to catch the breeze or the suns.h.i.+ne. Yes--(_returning_), let me look down on that orchard once again. Never more--never more.

(_She walks to the door, again pausing on the threshold_.)

_Helen_. (_solemnly_.) Oh G.o.d, here, from childhood to this hour, morning and evening I have called on thee--forget me not. Farewell, Netty, you will see my mother--you will see them all--that is past.--Tell her I had seen the Indians, and was not afraid.

[_She goes out_.

_Jan_. It won't take much to make an angel of her, there's that in it.

(_Looking cautiously through the shutters_.)

There she comes! How every eye in that wild group flashes on her! And yet with what a calm and stately bearing she meets them. Holy Mary! she suffers that savage creature to lift her to her horse, as though he were her brother, and the long knife by his side too, glancing in the suns.h.i.+ne! The horse, one would think, he knew the touch of that white hand on his neck. How gently he rears his beautiful head. There they go.

Adieu! Was there ever so sad a smile?

Another glimpse I shall have of them yet beyond those trees.--Yes, there they go--there they go. I can see that lovely plume waving among the trees still.--Was there ever so wild a bridal train?

DIALOGUE III.

SCENE. _British Camp. The interior of a Tent richly furnished. An Officer seated at a table covered with papers and maps.

A Servant in waiting_.

_The Officer_. (_Sipping his wine, and carefully examining a plan of the adjacent country_.) About here, we must be--let me see.--I heard the drum from their fort this morning, distinctly. Turn that curtain; we might get a faint breeze there now.

_Ser't_. But the sun will be coming that side, Sir. It's past two o'clock.

_Off_. Past two--a good position--very. Well, well,--we'll take our breakfast in Albany on Friday morning, and if our soldiers fast a day or two ere then, why they'll relish it the better;--once in the rich country beyond--Ay, it will take more troops than this General will have at his bidding by that time, to drain the Hudson's borders for us.

(_A Servant enters with a note_.)

_Off_. (_Reading_.) "_The Baroness Reidesel's compliments--do her the honor---Voisin has succeeded_."--Ay, ay,--Voisin has succeeded,--I'll warrant that. That caterer of hers must be in league with the powers of the air, I am certain. General Burgoyne will be but too happy, my Lady--(_writing the answer_.)

[_The Servant goes out_.

_Off_. Past two! The cannon should be in sight ere this. This to Sir George Ackland.

[_Exit the Attendant_.

_Off_. Tuesday--Wednesday.--If the batteaux should get here to-morrow.

One hundred teams----

(_Another Officer enters the tent_.)

_1st Off_. How goes it abroad, Colonel St. Leger?

_2nd Off_. Indeed, Sir, the camp is as quiet as midnight. It's a breathless heat. But there are a few dark heads swelling in the west. We may have a shower yet ere night.

_Bur_. Good news that. But here is better, (_giving the other an open letter_.)

_St. Leger_. Ay, ay, that reads well, Sir.

_Bur_. And here is another as good. Yes Sir, yes Sir,--they are flocking in from all quarters--the insurgents are laying down their arms by hundreds. It must be a miserable fragment that Schuyler has with him by this.

_St. L_. General Burgoyne, is not it a singular circ.u.mstance, that the enemy should allow us to take possession of a point like that without opposition,--so trifling a detachment, too? Why, that hill commands the fort,--certainly it does.

_Bur_. Well--well. They are pretty much reduced, I fancy, Sir. We shall hardly hear much more from them. Let me see,--this is the hill.

_St. L_. A pity we could not provoke them into an engagement, though!

They depend so entirely upon the popular feeling for supplies and troops, and the whole machinery of their warfare, that it is rather hazardous reckoning upon them, after all. If we could draw them into an engagement _now_, the result would be certain.

_Bur_. Yes, yes; we must contrive to do that ere long. Rather troublesome travelling companions they make, that's certain. Like those insects that swarm about us here,--no great honor in fighting them, but a good deal of discomfort in letting them alone. We must sweep them out of our way, I think, or at all events give them a brush, that will quiet them a little.

_St. L_. Or they might prove, after all, like the gadfly in the fable. I do not think this outbreak will be any disadvantage in the end, General.

_Bur_. Not a whit--not a whit--they have needed this. It will do them good, Sir.

_St. L_. The fact is, these colonies were founded in the spirit of insubordination, and all the circ.u.mstances of their position have hitherto tended to develope only these disorganizing elements.

_Bur_. It will do them good, Sir. Depend upon it, they'll remember this lesson. Pretty well sickened of war are they all. They'll count the cost ere they try it again.

_St. L_. We can hardly expect the news from General Reidesel before sunset, I suppose.

_Bur_. If my messenger returns by to-morrow's sunrise, it is better fortune than I look for.

(_Col. St. Leger goes out_.)

(_Burgoyne resumes his plan_.)

_A Ser't_. (_At the door_.) Capt. Maitland, Sir.

_Bur_. Capt. Maitland!

_Ser't_. From Fort Ann, Sir.

(_Maitland enters_.)