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Sally had raised her eyes in surprise, but said "Thank you," and was hurrying on when the soldier suddenly exclaimed "Ah! ah!" as if surprised at the beauty of the young face, and had no mind to let the maid escape so easily.
"There are many abroad to-night," he said, with a strange way of calling his words, "and it might be convenient to have a friend near; would ma'selle permit me to walk beside her?"
But Sally, with all her shyness at times, was no coward, and she very well knew that the British soldier and a stranger should not seek to walk with her. So she replied, in a low voice but with a fine, maidenly air:
"My home is at the parson's close by. I have no fear, nor is there need that any one should walk with me;" and she raised her eyes part way to his face.
The soldier said "Ah!" again, but this time with so great a note of surprise that Sally looked him full in the face, and lo! it was not a young man at all that she saw, but a tall, handsome man with thick moustaches that were going gray.
Now neither Englishmen nor Americans wore moustaches in those days. A beard or side-whiskers were often worn, but Sally had never before seen a man with long moustaches that swept his smooth cheek.
But it was not the brave, distinguished look of the soldier that made Sally pause for an instant with her eyes on his face. Some dim memory was stirred at sight of him. As she dropped her eyes the soldier said, in a gentle voice:
"Would not young ma'selle tell her name? I bear myself a name both true and tried, one of which never to be ashamed. I would know what name ma'selle is called by."
Sally was quick of thought.
"Parson Kendall might better tell my name," she said. "Oh, and here comes Mammy!"
And making excuse to dart away, Sally hastened forward at sight of Mammy Leezer, who had come along at the right moment.
Mammy was out in great glory. A gay bandanna, really a handkerchief of red silk with yellow dots, was made up into a gay turban, with rabbit's ears that stood erect just over the middle of her forehead.
Another gay kerchief was crossed over her ample bosom, and her skirt of white cotton with a red stripe stood out stiff with starch, making Mammy look much like a sailing balloon as she came slowly along.
"What dat sojer man sayin' to you, honey?" she asked, as Sally flew up to her in a way to do her affectionate old heart good.
"Nothing much," said Sally. "I dropped some leaves and he picked them up for me, but I didn't want him stepping beside me, so I ran up to you."
"Which am de proper ting to do," said Mammy, with dignity. "Doan't you let none of dem Britishers go sparkin' yo' pritty face, honey, nor doan't you be a bit 'fraid o' dem, neder. I nebber was 'fraid ob de face of clay, and dar doan't no sojers make eyes at me when I goes out walkin' ov an evening."
Sally wanted to laugh at the pompous air with which Mammy stalked along, much like an old dragoon, she thought, for the soft spring weather had helped her rheumatism, and she could get along with considerable comfort.
But the road forked, and Mammy went off toward Ingleside, while Sally went on to the parson's.
She had reached the gate, and was startled as she began going up the gravelled walk to hear a soft voice beside her say:
"Allow me, ma'selle," and the tall soldier's sword grated on the walk, as, bending low, he put a card in the curve of her arm. Then lifting his hat gay with gold lace high above his head, he said, with his gentle accent, "Au revoir, ma'selle." And he was gone.
"He is French," said Sally, "for he said 'Au revoir, ma'selle,' and that means 'adieu, or good-by, mademoiselle, until we meet again.'"
CHAPTER XVIII.
THE BREAKING OF THE STORM
Peace was at an end. The smell of war was in the air. May had dawned, hot, sweet, and full of the jangle of many tongues. Strange, wild things were happening, and so swiftly that hardly could men sleep, so fierce were they for news.
Lord Dunmore, Virginia's governor, was looked upon as an enemy, false and dangerous. Besides trying to take from the people all their gunpowder, it was found that he had tried to stir up the Indians to make one of their cruel attacks upon the people. Soon after this he left Williamsburg not to return.
News travelled but slowly in those days, and so the May sun had been s.h.i.+ning some weeks when a man on horseback brought the tidings that at about the same time that the gunpowder had been seized, there had actually been fighting near Boston.
"Think of it!" exclaimed Parson Kendall, at the table at noon; "the messenger who rode into town this morning saith that seven of our minutemen were killed, and four others wounded, at Lexington, not far from Boston. And at Concord also, close by, there soon followed more fighting.
"Thinketh any one that we will lay down our arms after that? Not so! not so!" cried the parson. "The British rushed forward and destroyed our stores, making sad havoc for a time, but at what a cost! They very soon were to know with what manner of rebels they had to deal.
"The whole body of Continental soldiers sprang to their guns, the news spread from mouth to mouth, and from town to town. Out poured the people from farm, hamlet, and shop. Boys who had ever handled a gun rushed to the scene, and from behind trees, rocks, and buildings came a steady fire into the British ranks, and had not help come to them from Boston, none of those British soldiers would have escaped alive. Three hundred of them were beaten down as it was.
"Glory to G.o.d! Such men as ours cannot be beaten. But the town is on fire. Young Reginald Bromfeld, who hath of kith and kin in Boston, is about to start with a company of youths for Boston, and declareth that he can scarcely wait to perform the journey, so anxious is he to shoulder a musket, aye, and use it too. I can but wish the lad G.o.dspeed!
"Sir Percival Grandison, whom I cannot but hold as a good man, hath forbidden his son--most unwisely, I fear--to take part with the colonists either here or elsewhere. And Sir Percival is a man of iron will. Beshrew me! but I have it in my heart to believe that he would keep the lad from Boston by force, could he do it in no other way.
"And it hath also been told that the proud maid, Rosamond Earlscourt, hath said all in her power to make him feel that he is acting both unjustly and unkindly in taking a different side from that of parents and sweetheart--for such she seemeth to hold herself to be. No Southern gentleman would like such words.
"And report hath it that Sir Percival meaneth to go to England for a time, as soon as business matters can be settled here and permit. Ah, but he must act swiftly!"
Sally had listened with ears that tingled.
But all this time there was in her heart a puzzling question, and it had to do with the soldier's card. By the light of a candle, the night she received it, she had seen a name that made her start. For she saw at once that it was the same that she had seen on the cape and in the letter in Mistress Brace's little trunk.
"What could it mean?" Sally dreaded to know, because the name was plainly a French one. She had no love or liking for British soldiers, still less for a French soldier who would take up arms against her own dear land.
"For it _shall be_ my own dear land," she said, the determined cleft settling in her chin.
But small time there was to spend over mysteries or hidden things. War had begun, and her Prince at Ingleside must fight his nearest friends if to battle he would go.
"I would that I could help thee, Fairy Prince!" she cried in her heart.
Did some kind Spirit hear her prayer?
Three days later, toward the close of afternoon Sally went toward the woodsy place and the pine-trees she had long loved.
She went to the other side of the great oak and sat down on the moss, her back against the tree. She could not easily be seen from the narrow path as she thus sat cosily curled.
"They say"--she caught her breath--"that on the morrow morn, there goeth forth with Reginald Bromfeld, my Fairy Prince, Leon Sutcliff, Edward Byrd, Hugh Spottswood, and others to join the forces at Boston, so sure are all the people that great strife is at hand in that quarter. And very swiftly are they to press forward, hoping to be in time for it.
"I must get a look at my Fairy Prince in the morning. He will not hear me bid him 'G.o.dspeed,' but G.o.dspeed I shall bid him with all my heart."
She stood up, intending to walk on, but at a little turn in the thicket road farther on, she saw three hors.e.m.e.n slowly advancing. They wore light riding-coats, which had concealed the scarlet coats of the king's men, but these outer garments were now thrown open, showing clearly the colors beneath them. Sally at once sat down again, huddling herself close at the back of the oak, hoping not to be seen as they rode by in single file.
On coming near, the first man turned in his saddle to answer a remark of one of his fellows.
"I will hold," he exclaimed, softly, "that I liked it not his keeping so still. It would have served me better had he kicked or shown temper as I expected."
"What good would that have done?" asked the other, stopping his horse a moment, that seemed well spent.