The Loyalist Part 30

"Are you happy now?" he questioned.

"Perfectly. Come let us sit and enjoy it."

She went to the big chair and began to rock energetically; but only for a minute, for she spied in the corner of the room the great sofa, and with a sudden movement threw herself on that. She was like a small boy with a host of toys about him, anxious to play with all at the same time, and trying to give to each the same undivided attention. The ma.s.sive candelabra on the table attracted her, so she turned her attention to that, fixing one of its candles as she neared it. Finally, a small water color of her father, which hung on the wall a little to one side, appealed to her as needing adjustment. She paused to regard the profile as she straightened it.

The General observed her from the large chair into which he had flung himself to rest after the journey, following her with his eyes as she flitted about the great drawing-room. For the moment there was no object in that s.p.a.ce to determine the angle of his vision, save Peggy, no other objective reality to convey any trace of an image to his imagination but that of his wife. She was the center, the sum-total of all his thoughts, the vivid and appreciable good that regulated his emotions, that controlled his impulses. And the confident a.s.surance that she was happy, reflected from her very countenance, emphasized by her every gesture as she hurried here and there about the room in joyous contemplation of the divers objects that delighted her fancy, reanimated him with a rapture of ecstasy which he thought for the moment impossible to corporeal beings. The mere pleasure of beholding her supremely happy was for him a source of whole-souled bliss, illimitable and ineffable.

"Would you care to dine now?" she asked of him as she approached his chair and leaned for support on its arms. "I'll ask Cynthia to make ready."

"Yes, if you will. That last stage of the trip was exhausting."

And so these two with all the world in their possession, in each other's company, partook of their first meal together in their own dining-room, in their own private home.

II

"'Thou hast it now,--king, Cawdor, Glamis, all----'" remarked Arnold to his wife as they made their way from the dining-room into the s.p.a.cious hallway that ran through the house.

"Yet it was not foully played," replied Peggy. "The tourney was fair."

"I had thought of losing you."

"Did you but read my heart aright at our first meeting, you might have consoled yourself otherwise."

"It was the fear of my letter; the apprehension of its producing a contrary effect that furnished my misgiving. I trembled over the consent of your parents."

"Dost know, too, that my mother favored the match from the start? In truth she gave me every encouragement, perhaps awakened my soul to the flame."

"No matter. We are in the morning of our bliss; its sun is about to remain fixed. Wish for a cloudless sky."

They were now in the great drawing-room which ran the full depth of the building, with windows looking both east and west. In the middle of the great side wall lodged a full-throated fireplace above which rose imposingly an elaborately wrought overmantel, whose central panel was devoid of any ornamentation. The door frames with their heavily molded pediments, the cornices, pilasters, doortrims and woodwork rich in elaboration of detail were all distinctive Georgian, tempered, however, with much dignified restraint and consummate good taste.

"We can thank the privateer for this. Still it was a fair profit and wisely expended, wiser to my mind than the methods of Robert Morris. At any rate it is the more satisfactory."

"He has made excellent profits."

"Nevertheless, he has lost as many as an hundred and fifty vessels.

These have affected his earnings greatly. Were he not so generous to an ungrateful people, a great part of his loss might now have been retrieved."

"I have heard it said, too, that he alone has provided the sinews of the revolt," said Peggy.

"Unquestionably. On one occasion, at a time of great want, I remember one of his vessels arrived with a cargo of stores and clothing, whose whole contents were given to Was.h.i.+ngton without any remuneration whatsoever. And you, yourself, remember that during the winter at Valley Forge, just about the time Howe was evacuating the city, when there were no cartridges in the army but those in the men's boxes, it was he who rose to the emergency by giving all the lead ballast of his favorite privateer. He has made money, but he has lost a vast amount. I made money, too, just before I bought this house. And I have lost money."

"And have been cheated of more."

"Yes. Cheated. More generosity from my people! I paid the sailors their share of the prize money of the British sloop that they as members of the crew had captured, that is, with the help of two other privateers which came to their a.s.sistance. The court allowed the claims of the rival vessels but denied mine. I had counted upon that money but found myself suddenly deprived of it. Now they are charging me with having illegally bought up the lawsuit."

He was seated now and lay back in his chair with his disabled limb propped upon a stool before him.

"They continue to say horrid things about you. I wish you were done with them," Peggy remarked.

He removed his finely powdered periwig and ran his heavy fingers through his dark hair.

"I treat such aspersions with the contempt their pettiness deserves. I am still Military Governor of Philadelphia and as such am beholden to no one save Was.h.i.+ngton. The people have given me nothing and I have nothing to return save bitter memories."

"I wish we were away from here!" she sighed.

"Margaret!" He never called her Peggy. He disliked it. "Are you not happy in this home which I have provided for you?"

His eyes opened full.

"It isn't that," she replied, "I am afraid of Reed."

"Reed? He is powerless. He is president of the City Council which under English law is, in time of peace, the superior governing body of the people. But this is war, and he must take second place. I despise him."

Peggy looked up inquiringly.

"Suppose that the worst should happen?" she said.

"But--how--what can happen?" he repeated.

"Some great calamity."

"How--what do you mean?" he asked.

"If you should be removed, say, or transferred to some less important post?"

A thought flashed into his mind.

"Further humiliated?"

"Yes. What then?"

"Why,--I don't know. I had thought of no possible contingency. I wished for a command in the Navy and wrote to Was.h.i.+ngton to that effect; but nothing came of it. I suppose my increasing interest in domestic affairs in the city, as well as my attentions to you, caused me to discontinue the application. Then again, I thought I was fitted for the kind of life led by my friend Schuyler in New York and had hoped to obtain a grant of land in the West where I might lead a retired life as a good citizen."

"I would die in such a place. The Indians would ma.s.sacre us. Imagine me hunting buffalo in Ohio!"

Her face wore a sardonic smile. It was plain to be seen that she was in a flippant mood.

"Have you given the matter a thought? Tell me," he questioned.

"No! I could not begin to think."

"Are you not happy?"

"Happiness springs not from a large fortune, and is often obtained when often unexpected. It is neither within us nor without us and only evident to us by the deliverance from evil."

He glanced sharply. There was fire in his eye.