"Yes. Work of a private nature for the Commander-in-chief."
"It must be a source of satisfaction to be responsive to duty," observed Marjorie.
"It is God's medicine to detach us from the things of this world. For, after all has been said and done, it is love alone which elevates one's service above the domain of abject slavery. In such a manner do the commands of heaven afford the richest consolations to the soul."
"And still, a certain routine must manifest itself at times."
"Not when the habit is turned to pleasure."
"You are a philosopher, then?"
"No. Just a mere observer of men and their destinies."
"Have you included the duration of the war in your legitimate conclusions?"
"It is not over yet, and it will not terminate, I think, without an improvement in the present condition of affairs. The proposed help from France must become a reality of no ordinary proportion, else the discordant factions will achieve dire results. Tell me," he said, suddenly changing the topic of conversation, "were you in attendance at the Mischienza?"
"No, I did not care to attend."
"I would I had been present."
"You would have been expelled in your present capacity."
"Ah, yes! But I would have affected a disguise."
"You would expect to obtain important information?" She fingered her gown of pink satin as she spoke, oblivious of everything save the interest of the conversation.
"I might possibly have stumbled across some items of value."
"None were there save the British Officers and their Tory friends, you know."
"A still greater reason for my desire to be present. And why did you not dance attendance?" This question was frank.
"Do you really want to know my sole reason?" She looked at him somewhat suspicious, somewhat reliant, awaiting her womanly instinct to reveal to her the rectitude of her judgment.
"I should not have asked, otherwise," Stephen gravely replied.
"Well, it was for the simple reason that my soul would burn within me if I permitted myself to indulge in such extravagance and gayety the while our own poor boys were bleeding to death at Valley Forge."
Stephen grasped her hand and pressed it warmly. "You are a true patriot," was all he could say.
Whether it was his emotion for the cause of his country or the supreme satisfaction afforded him by the knowledge that this girl was loyal to the cause, Stephen did not know, nor did he try to discover. He knew that he was thrilled with genuine gratification and that he was joyously happy over the thought which now relieved his mind. Somehow or other he earnestly desired to find this girl an ardent patriot, yet he had dared not ask her too bluntly. From the moment she had entered the hall in company with the other girls, he had singled her alone in the midst of the company. And, when the summons came to him from the Governor, he had seen her standing at the side of the dais, and her alone. Little did he suspect, however, that she bore his billet, nor did he presume to wish for the pleasure of her exclusive company for the evening.
She danced with grace and was wholly without affectation. How sweet she looked; pink gown, pink flowers, pink ribbon, pink cheeks! How interesting her conversation, yet so reserved and dignified! But she lived in the city and the city he knew teemed with Loyalists. Was she one of these! He dared not ask her. To have her so declare herself enraptured him. She was one of his own after all.
Moreover she was one with him in religious belief – that was a distinct comfort. Catholics were not numerous, and to preserve the faith was no slight struggle. He was thoroughly conversant with the state of affairs in the province of New York where Catholics could not, because of the iniquitous law and the prescribed oath of office, become naturalized as citizens of the state. He knew how New Jersey had excluded Roman Catholics from office, and how North and South Carolina had adopted the same iniquitous measure. Pennsylvania was one of the few colonies wherein all penal laws directed against the Catholics had been absolutely swept away. To meet with a member of his own persecuted Church, especially one so engaging and so interesting as Marjorie, was a source of keen joy and an unlooked-for happiness.
"You will not deny me the pleasure of paying my respects to your father and mother?" Stephen asked.
She murmured something as he let go her hand. Stephen thought she had said, "I had hoped that you would come."
"Tomorrow?" he ventured.
"I shall be pleased to have you sup with us," she smiled as she made the soft reply.
"Tomorrow then it shall be."
They rose to take their part in the next dance.
III
As the evening wore on Peggy, wearied of the dance, sought a secluded corner of the great room to compose herself. She had been disappointed in her lottery, for she detested the thought of being a favor for a French officer and had taken care to so express herself at home long before. She could not rejoice at Marjorie's good fortune as she thought it, and found little of interest and less of pleasure in the evening's doings.
She was aroused from her solitude and made radiant on the instant at sight of the Military Governor, limping his way across the hall in her direction. He had seen her seated alone, and his heart urged him to her side. With the lowest bow of which he was then capable, he sought the pleasure of her company. Her color heightened, she smiled graciously with her gray-blue eyes, and accepted his hand. He led the way to the banquet room and thence to the balcony, where they might hear the music and view the dancing, for his lameness made dancing impossible.
"I hesitate to condemn a young lady to a prison seat, when the stately minuet sends a summons," he said as he led her to a chair a little to one side of the balcony.
"You should have thought of that before you made us cast lots," she replied quickly. "I was wearying of the rounds of pleasure."
"Is the company, then, all too gay?"
"No, rather extravagant."
"You insisted on the Mischienza ladies being present."
"And can you not distinguish them? Do they not appear to better advantage than the others? Their gowns are superior, they give evidence of more usage in society, their head-dress is higher and of the latest fashion."
"And their hearts, their hopes, their sympathies! Where are they?"
"You know where mine lay," she adroitly replied.
"True, you did wear a French cockade," he laughed.
"Please do not call it 'French.' I scorn all things 'French.'"
"They are our allies now, you must know."
"For which I am most sorry. I expect no mercy from that scheming Papist country," she replied bitterly.
"But they have lent us much money at a time when our paper currency is practically worthless, and the assistance of their fleet is now momentarily expected," the General went on to explain.
"And to what purpose? Lord North has proposed to meet our demands most liberally and with our constitutional liberties secured, I fail to see why further strife is necessary."
"But our independence is not yet secure."
"It was secure after your brilliant victory at Saratoga. With the collapse of Burgoyne, England saw that further campaigning in a country so far removed from home was disastrous. It only remained to formulate some mutual agreement. We have triumphed. Why not be magnanimous? Why subject the country to a terrible strain for years for a result neither adequate nor secure?"
She talked rapidly, passionately. It was evident from the manner of her address that the subject was no new one to her.
"You can be court-martialed for treason?" he remarked with a slight smile playing about the heavy lines of his mouth.
"Is it treason to talk of the welfare of the country? I look upon the alliance with this Catholic and despotic power as more of an act of treason than the total surrender of our armies to King George. To lose our independence is one thing; but to subject our fair land to the tyranny of the Pope and his emissary, the King of France, is a total collapse. Our hopes lie in England alone."
The Governor was struck by this strange reasoning. Why had this mere child dared to express the very thoughts which were of late intruding themselves upon his mind, but which he dared not permit to cross the seal of his lips? She was correct, he thought, in her reasoning, but bold in her denunciation. No one else had dared to address such sentiments to him. And now he was confronted with a young lady of quick wit and ready repartee who spoke passionately the identical reflections of his more mature mind. Clearly her reasoning was not without some consistency and method.
"I am afraid that you are a little Tory." He could not allow this girl to think that she had impressed him in the least.
"Because I am frank in the expression of my views?" She turned and with arched eyebrows surveyed him. "Pardon me, if you will, but I would have taken no such liberty with any other person. You gave me that privilege when you forbade my alluding to your former brilliant exploits."
"But I did not want you to become a Tory."
He spoke with emphasis.
"I am not a Tory I tell you."
"But you are not a Whig?"
"What, an ordinary shop maid!"
"They are true patriots."
"But of no social standing."
"Tell me why all the Mischienza ladies courtesied to me after so courtly a fashion," he asked.
"They like it. It is part of their life. You must know that nothing pleases a woman of fashion more than to bow and courtesy before every person of royalty, and to count those who precede her out of a room."
"Surely, Margaret, you are no such menial?" He compressed his lips as he glanced at her sharply. He had never before called her by her first name nor presumed to take this liberty. It was more a slip of the tongue than an act of deliberate choice, yet he would not have recalled the word. His concern lay in her manner of action.
"And why not a menial?" Evidently she took no notice of his presumption, or at least pretended not to do so. "Piety is by no means the only motive which brings women to church. Position in life is precisely what one makes it."
"Does social prestige appeal to you then?"
"I love it." She did not talk to him directly for her attention was being centered upon the activities on the floor. "I think that a woman who can dress with taste and distinction possesses riches above all computation. See Mrs. Reed, there. How I envy her!"
"The wife of the President of the Council?" he asked apprehensively, bending forward in the direction of the floor.
"The same. She enjoys a position of social eminence. How I hate her for it." She tapped the floor with her foot as she spoke.
"You mean that you dislike her less than you envy her position?"
Just then her young squire came up and she gave him her hand for a minuet, excusing herself to the Governor as graciously as possible.
Scarcely had she disappeared when he began to muse. What a fitting companion she would make for a man of his rank and dignity! That she was socially ambitious and obsessed with a passion for display he well knew. She was not yet twenty but the disparity in their ages, – he was about thirty-seven and a widower with three sons, – would be offset by the disparity of their stations. No one in the city kept a finer stable of horses nor gave more costly dinners than he. Everybody treated him with deference, for no one presumed to question his social preëminence. The Whigs admired him as their dashing and perhaps their most successful General. The Tories liked him because of his aristocratic display and his position in regard to the Declaration of Independence. Why not make her his bride?
She possessed physical charms and graces in a singular degree. She dressed with taste; her wardrobe was of the finest. Aristocratic in her bearing, she would be well fitted to assume the position of the first lady of the town. Peggy, moreover, possessed a will of her own. This was revealed to him more than once during their few meetings, and if proof had been wanting, the lack was now abundantly supplied. She would make an ideal wife, and he resolved to enter the lists against all suitors.
Her mind was more mature than her years, he thought. This he gleaned from her animated discussion of the alliance. And there was, after all, more than an ounce of wisdom in her point of view. Mischief brewed in the proposed help from a despotic power. His own signal victory ended the war if only the Colonists would enter into negotiations or give an attentive ear to the liberal proposals of Lord North. The people did not desire complete independence and he, for one, had never fully endorsed the Declaration. Her point of view was right. Better to accept the overtures of our kinsmen than to cast our lot with that Catholic and despotic power.
His musings were arrested by the arrival of an aide, who announced that he was needed at headquarters. He arose at once to obey.
CHAPTER IV
I
Stephen awoke late the next morning. As he lay with eyes closed, half asleep, half awake, the image of his partner of the evening sweetly drifted into his dreamy brain, and called up a wealth of associations on which he continued to dwell with rare pleasure. But the ominous suggestion that her heart could not possibly be free, that perhaps some gay officer, or brilliant member of Howe's staff, or a gallant French official, many of whom had now infested the town, was a favored contestant in the field, filled his mind with the thoughts of dread possibilities, and chased away the golden vision that was taking shape. He sat upright and, pulling aside the curtains of the little window that flanked his bed, he peered into the garden behind the house. The birds were singing, but not with the volume or rapture which is their wont in the early morning. The sun was high in the heavens and flung its reflecting rays from the trees and foliage; whence he concluded that the morning was already far advanced and that it was well past the hour for him to be astir.
And what a day it was! One of those rare July days when the tints of the earth and the hues of the sky though varied in color, seem to blend in one beautiful and harmonious whole. The cypress and the myrtle, emblems of deeds of virtue and renown, had already donned their summer dress. The many flowers bowed gently under the weight of the flitful butterfly, or the industrious bee, or tossed to and fro lightly in the arms of the morning breeze. Overhead maples, resplendent in their fabric of soft and delicate green, arched themselves like fine-spun cobwebs, through which filigree the sun projected his rays at irregular and frequent intervals, lending only an occasional patch of sunlight here and there to the more exposed portions of the garden.
But nature had no power to drive Marjorie's image from his mind. Try as he would, he could not distract his attention to the many problems which ordinarily would have engaged thoughts. What mattered it to him that the French fleet was momentarily expected, or that the Continental Congress was again meeting in the city, or that he had met with certain suspicious looking individuals during the course of the day! There was yet one who looked peculiarly suspicious and who was enveloped, as far as his knowledge was concerned, in a veil of mystery of the strangest depth. She, indeed, was a flower too fair to blush unseen or unattached. His own unworthiness confounded him.
Nevertheless he was determined to call on her that very day, in response to her generous invitation of last night, and in accordance too with the custom of the time. He would there, perchance, learn more of her, of her home, of her life, of her friends. But would he excite in her the interest she was exciting in him? The thought of his possible remoteness from her, pained him and made his heart sink. The noblest characters experience strange sensations of desolation and wretchedness at the thought of disapproval and rejection. Esteem, the testimony of our neighbor's appreciation, the approval of those worth while, these are the things for which we yearn with fondest hopes. To know that we have done well is satisfaction, but to know that our efforts and our work are valued by others is one of the noblest of pleasures. Stephen longed to know how he stood in the lady's esteem, and so her little world was his universe.
Dispatching the day's business as best he could, the expectant knight set out to storm the castle of his lady. Eager as he was, he did not fail to note the imposing majesty of the great trees which lined each side of the wide road and arched themselves into a perfect canopy overhead. An air of abundance pervaded the whole scene and made him quite oblivious of the extreme warmth of the afternoon.
Ere long the little white house of her describing rose before him. He had seen it many times in other days, but now it was invested with a new and absorbing interest. There it stood, plain yet stately, with a great pointed and shingled roof, its front and side walls unbroken save for a gentle projection supported by two uniform Doric pillars which served as a sort of a portal before the main entrance. Numerous windows with small panes of glass, and with trim green shutters thrown full open revealing neatly arranged curtains, glinted and glistened in the beams of the afternoon sun. The nearer of the two great chimneys which ran up the sides, like two great buttresses of an old English abbey, gave indications of generous and well-fed fireplaces recessed in the walls of the inner rooms. The lawns and walks were uncommonly well kept, and the whole atmosphere of the little home was one of comfort and simplicity and neatness, suggesting the sweet and serene happiness reigning within.
Stephen closed the gate behind him. A moment later he had seized the brass knocker and delivered three moderate blows.
II
"Captain Meagher!" gasped a soft voice. "I am so pleased you have come."
"Mistress Allison, the pleasure is indeed mine, I assure you," replied Stephen as he grasped her hand, releasing it with a gentle pressure.
She led the way into the narrow hall.
"Mother!" she addressed a sweetly smiling middle-aged woman who now stood at her side, "I have the honor of presenting to you, Captain Meagher, of the staff of General Washington, my partner of last evening." And she betrayed a sense of pride in that bit of history.
Stephen took the matron's hand, for among the Americans the custom prevailed of shaking hands, albeit the French visitors of the time maintained that it was a "comic custom." Stephen thought it democratic, and in keeping with the spirit of the country.
The parlor opened immediately to the right and thither Stephen was conducted without further ceremony. Mr. Allison would be in shortly; he was as yet busied with the trade at the shop. The old clock at the corner of the room, with its quaint figure of Time adorning the top, and its slowly moving pendulum, proclaimed the hour of five, the hour when the duties of the day came to a close and social life began. The old fireplace, black in this season of desuetude, but brilliant in its huge brass andirons like two pilasters of gold, caught the eye at the extreme end of the room, while in the corner near the window a round mahogany tea-table, stood upright like an expanded fan or palm leaf.
Stephen seated himself in a great chair that lay to one side of the room.
"I had the good fortune of being your daughter's partner for the evening, and I am happy to be enabled to pay my respects to you." Stephen addressed Mrs. Allison who was nearer to him on his left.
"Marjorie told me, Captain, of your extreme kindness to her. We appreciate it very much. Did she conduct herself becomingly? She is a stranger to such brilliant affairs."
"Splendidly!" answered Stephen. "And she danced charmingly," and he slyly looked at her as he spoke and thought he detected a faint blush.
"I did not attend on account of its extravagance," remarked Mrs. Allison. "I had duties at home, and Marjorie was well attended."
"Indeed!" pronounced Marjorie.
"It was magnificent, to be sure," went on Stephen, "but it will excite no uncertain comment. Republican simplicity last night was lost from sight."
"Which I scarce approve of," declared Marjorie.
"You did not suit your action to your thought," smiled her mother.
"True," replied the girl, "yet I told you that I was anxious to attend simply to behold the novelty of it all. Now that it is over, I disapprove of the splendor and extravagance especially in these times of need."
"Yes," volunteered Stephen, "she did voice similar sentiments to me last evening. Nevertheless she is not alone in her criticism. The Gazette today publishes a leading article excoriating the Military Governor for his use of the teams, which he had commanded under pretense of revictualing of the army, for the transportation of his private effects to and from the City Tavern. It spells dissatisfaction at best."
"There has been dissatisfaction from the first day on which he took up residence at the Slate Roof House," said Mrs. Allison.
The figure of Mr. Allison appeared in the room to the rear. Stephen made haste to stand to greet him, expressing his extreme pleasure.
It was a great day for a tradesman when an officer of the Continental Army supped at his table. The house was in a mild uproar since Marjorie announced the coming distinction on her return from the ball. From the kitchen chimney went up a pillar of smoke. Mrs. Allison and two of her neighbors who were proud to lend assistance on such an important occasion could be seen passing in and out continually. A large roast lay simmering and burnished in the pan diffusing savory and provoking fumes throughout the house. And it was with distinct pride that Mrs. Allison announced to the company that they might take their places about the festive board.
The discourse bore on various matters, prominence being given to politics and the affairs of the army. Mr. Allison took care to ask no question that might give rise to embarrassment on the part of Stephen. The complaints of the tradesmen, the charges of the Whigs, the murmurings of the Tories and the annoying articles in the morning Gazette, all, were touched upon in the course of the meal. Stephen volunteered the information that Conway and Gates were in hiding and that Clinton was driven to New York where Washington was watching his every move, like a hawk, from the heights of Morristown.
"General Washington holds General Arnold in the highest esteem," remarked Mr. Allison.
"As the bravest general in the Continental Army," quietly replied Stephen.
"He would make a poor statesman," went on the host.
"He is a soldier first and last."
"Should a soldier be wanting in tact and diplomacy?"
"A good soldier should possess both."
"Then General Arnold is not a good soldier," declared Mr. Allison.
"A criticism he hardly deserves," was the simple reply.
"You saw the Gazette?"
"Yes. I read that article to which you undoubtedly refer."
"And you agree with it?"
"No. I do not."
"I am sorry about it all. Yet I am inclined to hold the Governor responsible to a great extent. He would be an aristocrat, and it is the society of such that he covets."
"Perhaps jealousy might inspire criticism. Envy, you know, is the antagonist of the fortunate."
"But it is not his deeds alone that cause the unrest among our citizens. It is not what he does but what he says. It helps matters not in the least to express dissatisfaction with the manner of conducting the war, neither by criticizing the enactments of the Congress, nor vehemently opposing the new foreign alliance. This does not sound well from the lips of one of our foremost leaders and we do not like it."
"I was not aware that he voiced any opposition to the furtherance of the alliance with France," declared Stephen.
"He might not have spoken in formal protest, but he has spoken in an informal manner times without number," replied Mr. Allison.
"I am sorry to hear that. I did not expect such from General Arnold," muttered Stephen.
Marjorie had as yet taken no part in the conversation. She was interested and alive, however, to every word, anxious, if possible, to learn Stephen's attitude in respect to the common talk. She took delight in his defense of his General, notwithstanding the overwhelming evidence against him and was proud of the trait of loyalty her guest disclosed in the face of her father's opposition.
Mrs. Allison and Marjorie participated in the conversation when the topics bore, for the most part, on current events, uninteresting to Mr. Allison, who munched in silence until some incomplete sentence called for a remark or two from him by way of a conclusion. Stephen's animated interest in the more common topics of the day led Mrs. Allison and Marjorie to the conclusion that he was a more practical and a more versatile man than the head of their own house.
All in all he made a profound impression on the family, and when the repast was finished and the table had been cleared, they sat over the fruit and the nuts, before retiring to the living room for the evening.
III
"You are not in the habit of frequenting brilliant functions?" Stephen asked of Marjorie when they were quite alone. It was customary for the older folks to retire from the company of the younger set shortly after the dinner grace had been said. Of course grace had to be said; Mr. Allison would permit no bread to be broken at his house without first imploring benedictions from Heaven, and, when the formalities of the meal had been concluded, of returning thanks for the good things enjoyed.
"I never have attended before," answered Marjorie, smoothing out a side of her apron with her hand.
"You are quite friendly with the Shippen family, I understand."
"Oh, yes! For several years we have been united. I am invited to all their functions. Still I am not fond of society."
"And you spend your time alone?" Stephen was persistent in his questions as he sat opposite to her and studied her expression.
"Between here and the store, and perhaps with Peggy. That is about all for I seldom visit. I am hopelessly old-fashioned in some things, mother tells me, and I suppose you will say the same if I tell you more," and she looked at him slyly, with her head half-raised, her lips parted somewhat in a quizzical smile.
"Not at all! You are what I rather hoped to find you, although I did not dare to give expression to it. You can, possibly, be of some assistance to me."
"Gladly would I perform any service, however humble, for the cause of our country," Marjorie sat upright, all attention at the thought.
"You remember I told you that I was detailed in the city on special work," Stephen went on.
"I do."
"Well, it is a special work but it also is a very indefinite work. There is a movement afoot, but of its nature, and purpose, I at this moment am entirely ignorant. I am here to discover clews."
"And have you no material to work on except that? It is very vague, to say the least."
"That and suspicion. Howe found the city a nest of Tories; but he also found it swarmed with patriots, whose enthusiasm, and vigor, and patience, and determination must have impressed him profoundly, and portended disaster for the British cause. With the morale of the people so high, and renewed hope and confidence swelling their bosoms, a complete military victory must have appeared hopeless to the British General. What was left? Dissension, or rebellion, or treason, or anything that will play havoc with the united determination of the Colonists."
She breathed heavily as she rested her chin on her hand absorbed in the vision that he was calling up.
"Arnold's victory at Saratoga has convinced Britain that the war over here cannot be won," he continued. "Already has Lord North thrown a bomb into the ranks of the proud Tories by his liberal proposals. Of course they will be entirely rejected by us and the war will continue until complete independence is acknowledged. True, we had no such idea in mind when we entered this conflict, but now we are convinced that victory is on our side and that a free and independent form of government is the most suitable for us. We have enunciated certain principles which are possible of realization only under a democratic form of government, where the people rule and where the rulers are responsible to the people. Such a system is possible only in a great republic, and that is what England must now recognize. Otherwise the war must go on."
"Have our aims taken such definite form. I know – "
"No! They have not," interrupted Stephen, "they have not and that is where trouble is to be expected. Such is the state of mind, however, of many of the more experienced leaders, but their opinion will lose weight. It is because all are not united in this, that there is room for treason under the motive of misguided patriotism. And it is to scent every possible form of that disloyalty that I have been sent here; sent to the very place where the Tories most abound and where such a plot is most liable to take root."
"And you expect me to be of assistance to you?" asked Marjorie, proud of the confidence which she so readily gained.
"I expect much. But perhaps nothing will eventuate. I can rely on you, however. For the present, naught is to be done. When the time comes, I shall tell you."
"But what can I do? I am but a mere girl."
"Did I think you to be ordinary, I might not have asked you," quickly exchanged Stephen.
Marjorie dropped her head and began studying the stitches in her gown. But only for a second, for she as quickly raised her head and asked:
"Wherein, then, can I be of service to you?"
"Listen!" He brought his chair to a point nearly opposite hers. She was seated on the settee, yet he made no attempt to share it with her.
"You are friendly with the Shippen family," he went on. "Now, do not misinterpret me. I shall require no betrayal of confidence. But it is generally known that the Shippens are Tories, not avowedly so, yet in heart and in thought. It is also generally known that their house was the center of society during the days of the British occupation, at which all manner of men assembled. The walls of that house, could they but speak, would be able to relate many momentous conversations held over the teacups, or in quiet corners. The family themselves must know many things which might be invaluable to us."