From Kingdom to Colony
is a lovely little girl with long yellow locks and wonderful blue eyes.
She was with you that eventful day at the cave." And he laughed softly
at the thought of what that day had brought about.
"Why, the old lady was Aunt Lettice, and the little girl is her
granddaughter--'Bitha Hollis, my cousin."
"She looks a winsome little thing--this 'Bitha," he said, happy to see
the brightness come to Dorothy's face.
She was smiling, for the names had brought visions of her dear old
home, and she seemed to see all the loving faces in the fire before her.
"Yes--and she is a dear child, and full of the oddest fancies." And
now Dorothy laughed outright as some of 'Bitha's queer sayings came to
her.
She went on to tell her husband of these; and when Jack returned half
an hour later to escort Captain Southorn to his room, he found the two
of them laughing happily together.
CHAPTER XXXIV
The next morning--although at rather a late hour for her--Dorothy
arose, feeling greatly refreshed by her sound and dreamless sleep.
While she was yet dressing, her brother rapped on the door, and told
her she was to go to the little room near by, where supper had been
served the night before, and that Dolly--the sutler's wife--would have
breakfast ready for her.
An hour later, as she stood at the open window of her room, drinking in
the fresh morning air, still bearing the odor of fallen leaves wetted
by the night damps, she saw her brother, with Captain Southorn and
several other men, chatting together a short distance away.
Jack was the first to turn his eyes in her direction, and seeing her,
he smiled and waved his hand, at which Captain Southorn turned about
and hurried toward her.
He was soon standing under the window, and reaching up took possession
of one of the small hands resting upon the sill.
For an instant neither of them spoke, but Dorothy's dark eyes smiled
shyly into the blue ones uplifted to her face.
"And it is really true," he said at last, with an air of conviction.
"Do you know, little one, that when I awakened this morning, I was
fearful at first that I 'd been dreaming it all. But knowing now what
I do, how can I have the heart to go away and leave you again? Cannot
you come to Boston with me now--this very day?"
She shook her head. "No, no,--I must not do that. I must go back to
Dorchester, to see Mary and Mistress Knollys once more. And,
too"--with a blush--"I could not go without any raiment besides this."
And she touched the folds of her riding-habit.
He stood a minute as if thinking, and then asked if she would come out
for a short walk.
"Most assuredly," was her smiling response; and turning from the
window, she was not long in putting on her hat.
As she was about leaving the room, she noticed her riding-whip lying on
the table where she had tossed it upon her arrival the previous
evening. It was a gift from her father, and one she prized very
highly; and fearing that the sight of it might excite the cupidity of
some of the servants, she picked it up, and then passed quickly out to
the porch.
Here she encountered several of the officers whom she had seen talking
with her brother a short time before. They now drew aside to let her
go by, which she did hurriedly, her eyes lowered under the shadowy
plumes of her riding-hat, and oblivious of the admiring glances they
stole at her.
Many of the inmates of Washington's headquarters had become acquainted
with her little romance; and so, unknown to herself, she was an object
of much interest. It was for this reason also, as well as on account
of the responsibility assumed with regard to him by Washington himself,
that the English captain was occupying a somewhat unusual position
amongst the American officers.
Finding her brother and husband together, the two coming to meet her at
the porch, Dorothy asked after Hugh, and was told by Jack that he had
gone with a message to some of the outposts, but would return shortly.
"And is he well this morning, Jack?"
"Oh, yes," her brother answered lightly. "You will not go far away, of
course," he added, "nor stay long, else I shall have to come or send
for you."
"Only a short distance;" and Captain Southorn motioned to the wood that
lay not far from the rear of the house.
"Who is this Hugh?" he inquired, as they walked slowly along, the dry
leaves crackling under their feet. "Is he the sergeant, Hugh Knollys,
who went with your brother yesterday?"
"Yes;" and something in his tone impelled her to add, "and I've known
him all my life."
"Oh, yes," he said, knitting his brows a little, as he kicked the
leaves before him, "I remember right well. It was he I used to see
riding about the country with you so much last summer."
"He is like my own brother," she explained quickly, not feeling quite
comfortable in something she detected in his manner of speech.
"Is he?" now looking at her smilingly. "And does he regard you in the
same fraternal fashion?"
"Why, of course," she answered frankly. "Hugh and I have always known
one another; we have gone riding and boating together for years, have
quarrelled and made up, just as Jack and I have done. Only," and now
she spoke musingly, "I cannot remember that Jack ever quarrelled much
with me."
"No, I should say not, from what I've seen of him," her husband said
heartily.
By this time they were in the seclusion of the wood; and now his arms
went about her and held her fast.
"Sweetheart, tell me once more that you love me," he said. "I only
brought you here to have you tell it to me again, and in broad
daylight."
She rested her head on his arm and smiled up into his face.
"How many times must I tell you?"
"With each sweet breath you draw, if you tell me as many times as I
would wish to hear. But this is certain to be the last moment I shall
have to see you alone, as you are to start for Dorchester, and I for
Boston. And you will surely--surely join me there as soon as I send
you word?" He spoke eagerly, and as if fearful that something might
arise to make her change her mind.
"Yes, to be sure I will,--have I not promised?"
"That you have, God bless you. And you will let no one turn you from
that, little one?"
"Why, who should?" She opened her eyes in surprise, and then there
came a flash to them. "No, no, even if every one was to try, they
could not do it now. What is that?"
She started nervously, and turned her head quickly about, as they both
heard a rustling in the bushes.
"It is only a rabbit or squirrel," her husband said, "or perhaps a--"
There was the sharp report of a gun close by, and a bullet grazed his
shoulder and struck the tree-trunk directly over Dorothy's head. The
next instant there came the sound of trampling and fierce struggling;
and a voice Dorothy knew at once, cried, "You sneaking dastard, what
murder is it you 're up to?"
"Stop here, little one," said Captain Southorn, calmly, "just a second,
until I see what all this means." And he plunged into the tangled
thicket beside the path in which they had been standing.
But Dorothy followed him closely; and a few yards away they came upon
Hugh Knollys, towering angrily over a man lying prostrate on the
ground, and whom Dorothy recognized instantly as the rude fellow who
had so alarmed her at the inn.
At sight of the two figures breaking through the underbrush, Hugh
started in surprise, and a look which Dorothy found it hard to
understand showed in his face.
"What is it--what is the matter?" Captain Southorn demanded angrily,
stepping toward the two other men.
Hugh did not reply, and now they heard rapid footsteps approaching.
"Here, this way,--come here!" shouted Hugh, who did not appear to have
heard the young Englishman's question.
Farmer Gilbert had arisen slowly to his feet, and did not attempt to
escape from the grasp Hugh still kept upon his arm.
"Oh, Hugh--what is it?" asked Dorothy, looking with frightened eyes at
his prisoner.
"Never mind now, Dot," he answered hastily, but his voice softening.
"How came you here? You should not--" Then, with a half-sulky glance
as of apology to the young Englishman, he bit his lip and was silent.
"We were standing in the path just now," said Captain Southorn, "when a
bullet came so close to us as to do this;" and he touched the torn
cloth on his shoulder.
Hugh started. "Then it must have been you he was shooting at!" he
exclaimed, glancing angrily at the prisoner.
"The bullet went just over my head and into a tree," said Dorothy,
continuing her husband's explanation.
"Over your head, Dot!" cried Hugh. "So close to you as that!" And a
terrible look came to his face,--one that revealed his secret to the
purple-blue eyes watching him so keenly. "Oh--my God!"
The appearance of several men--soldiers--cut the words short, and
restored Hugh's calmness, for, turning to them, he bade them take the
man and guard him carefully.
"And I'll take this gun of yours," he said to him, "and see to it that
you get the treatment you deserve for such a cowardly bit of work."
"Wait a bit, till I answers him," said Farmer Gilbert, now speaking for
the first time, as he turned to face Hugh, and holding back, so as to
arrest the steps of the men who were dragging him away. "I want to
say, young sir, that if ye had n't sneaked up on me from aback, an'
knocked my gun up, I'd hev done what I've been dodgin' 'round to do
these five days past--an' that were to put a bullet through the head or
d----d trait'rous heart o' that British spy in petticoats."
His face was ablaze with passion, and he shook his clenched fist at
Dorothy, who stood looking at him as though he were a wild beast caught
in the toiler's net.
Captain Southorn started forward; but Hugh motioned him back. Then
realizing the full sense of the fellow's words, he sprang upon him with
an oath such as no one had ever heard issue from his lips.
Falling upon the defenceless man, he shook him fiercely. Then he
seemed to struggle for a proper control of himself, and asked
chokingly, "Do you mean to tell me that it was her you were aiming at
when I caught you?"
He pointed to Dorothy, who was now clinging to her husband; and even in
that moment Hugh saw his arm steal about her protectingly.
He turned his eyes away, albeit the sight helped to calm his rage, as
the bitter meaning of it swept over him.
"Aye--it was," the man answered doggedly, nodding his bushy head; "an'
ye may roll me o'er the ground again, like a log that has no feelin',
an' send me to prison atop it all, for tryin' to do my country a
sarvice by riddin' it of a spy."
The soldiers who were holding him looked significantly at each other
and then at Dorothy, who was still standing within the protecting arm
of the man they knew to be an English officer, and a prisoner who had
been captured, alone and at night, close to the spot where the
Commander-in-Chief was engaged in a conference with some of his
subordinates.
Despite the fright to which she had been subjected, the girl was quick
to see all this, and the suspicion to which it pointed. And she now
astonished them all by leaving her husband's side, to advance rapidly
until she stood facing the soldiers and their prisoner, who cowered
away as he saw the flash of her eyes, and her small figure drawn to its
utmost height.
"Do you dare say to my face that I am a British spy--I, Dorothy
Devereux, of Marblehead, whose only brother is an officer in Glover's
regiment? You lying scoundrel--take that!" And raising her
riding-whip, she cut him sharply across the face, the thin lash causing
a crimson welt to show upon its already florid hue. "And that," giving
him another cut. "And do you go to General Washington, and tell him