It was one of the late-comers who gave me this leave; a man well on in years, grizzled and weather-beaten; a seasoned soldier by his look and garb2. Though his frayed3 shoulder-knot was only that of a captain of foot,'twas plain enough he ranked his comrade, and the knight4 as well.
"You say you've bagged this Captain Ireton? Who may he be? Surely not old Roger's son?"
"The same," said the baronet, shortly, and would be filling his glass again. He could always drink more and feel it less than any sot I ever knew.
"But how the devil came he here? The last I knew of him—'twas some half-score years ago, though, come to think—he was a lieutenant5 in the Royal Scots."
"Ecod! I do remember now. There was a damned good mess-room joke about him. When he was in the Blues8 they used to say his solemn face would stop a merry-making. Well, after he had been in Austria a while they told this on him; that his field-marshal had him listed for a majority, and so he was presented to the empress. But when Maria Theresa saw him she shrieked9 and cried out, 'Il est le père aux têtes rondes, lui-même! Le portez-vous dehors!' So he got but a captaincy after all; ha! ha! ha!"
Now this was but a mess-room gibe10, as he had said, cut out of unmarred cloth, at that. Our Austrian Maria ever had a better word than "roundhead" for her soldiers. But yet it stung, and stung the more because I had and have the Ireton face, and that is unbeloved of women, and glum11 and curst and solemn even when the man behind it would be kindly12. So when they laughed and chuckled13 at this jest, I lingered on and listened with the better grace.
"What brought him over-seas, Sir Francis?" 'Twas not the grizzled jester who asked, but the younger officer, his comrade.
Falconnet smiled as one who knows a thing and will not tell, and turned to Gilbert Stair.
"What was it, think you, Mr. Stair?" he said, passing the question on.
At this they all looked to the master of Appleby Hundred, and I looked, too. He was not the man I should have hit upon in any throng14 as the reaver of my father's estate; still less the man who might be Margery's father. He had the face of all the Stairs of Ballantrae without its simple Scottish ruggedness15; a sort of weasel face it was, with pale-gray eyes that had a trick of shifty dodging16, and deep-furrowed about the mouth and chin with lines that spoke17 of indecision. It was not of him that Margery got her firm round chin, or her steadfast18 eyes that knew not how to quail19, nor aught of anything she owed a father save only her paternity, you'd say. And when he spoke the thin falsetto voice matched the weak chin to a hair.
"I? Damme, Sir Francis, I know not why he came—how should I know?" he quavered. "Appleby Hundred is mine—mine, I tell you! His title was well hanged on a tree with his damned rebel father!"
A laugh uproarious from the three soldiers greeted his petulant20 outburst; after which the baronet enlightened the others.
"As you know, Captain John, Appleby Hundred once belonged to the rebel Roger Ireton, and Mr. Stair here holds but a confiscator's title. 'Tis likely the son heard of the war and thought he stood some chance to come into his own again."
"Oh, aye; sure enough," quoth the elder officer, tilting21 his bottle afresh. And then: "Of course he promptly22 'listed with the rebels when he came? Trust Roger Ireton's son for that."
"Of course; we have his commission. He is on De Kalb's staff, 'detached for special duty.'"
"A spy!" roared the jester. "And yet you haven't hanged him?"
Sir Francis shrugged24 like any Frenchman. "All in good time, my dear Captain. There were reasons why I did not care to knot the rope myself. Besides, we had a little disagreement years agone across the water; 'twas about a woman—oh, she was no mistress of his, I do assure you!"—this to quench25 my jester's laugh incredulous. "He was keen upon me for satisfaction in this old quarrel, and I gave it him, thinking he'd hang the easier for a little blooding first."
Here the factor-lawyer cut in anxiously. "But you will hang him, Sir Francis? You've promised that, you know."
I did not hate my enemy the more because he turned a shoulder to this little bloodhound and quite ignored the interruption.
"So we fought it out one morning in Mr. Stair's wood-field, and he had what he came for. Not to give him a chance to escape, we brought him here, and as soon as he is fit to ride I'll send him to the colonel. Tarleton will give him a short shrift, I promise you, and then"—this to the master of Appleby Hundred—"then your title will be well quieted, Mr. Stair."
"I say, Sir Frank, that's good—damned good! So you have him crimped here in his own house, stuffing him like a penned capon before you wring27 his neck. Ah! ha! ha! But 'tis to be hoped you have his legs well tied. If he be any son of my old mad-bull Roger Ireton, you'll hardly hang him peacefully like a trussed fowl29 before the fire."
The baronet smiled and said: "I'll be your warrant for his safety! We've had him well guarded from the first, and to-night he is behind a barred door with Mr. Stair's overseer standing30 sentry31 before it. But as for that, he's barely out of bed from my pin-prick32."
Having thus disposed of me, they let me be and came to the graver business of the moment, with a toast to lay the dust before it. It was Falconnet who gave the toast.
"Oconostota is the Chelakee of it, though on the border they know him better as 'Old Hop28.' Fill up, gentlemen, fill up; 'tis a dry business, this. Allow me, Mr. Stair; and you, Mr.—er—ah—Pengarden. This same old heathen is the king's friend now, but, gentlemen all, I do assure you he's the very devil himself in a copper-colored skin. 'Twas he who ambushed34 us in '60, and but for Attakullakulla—"
"Oh, Lord!" groaned35 Falconnet. "I say, Captain, drown the names in the wine and we'll drink them so. 'Tis by far the easiest way to swallow them."
By this, the grizzled captain's mention of the old Fort Loudon massacre36, I knew him for that same John Stuart of the Highlanders who, with Captain Damaré, had so stoutly37 defended the frontier fort against the savages38 twenty years before; knew him and wondered I had not sooner placed him. When I was but a boy, as I could well remember, he had been king's man to the Cherokees; a sort of go-between in times of peace, and in the border wars a man the Indians feared. But now, as I was soon to learn, he was a man for us to fear.
"'Tis carried through at last," he went on, when the toast was drunk. And then he stopped and held up a warning finger. "This business will not brook39 unfriendly ears. Are we safe to talk it here, Mr. Stair?"
It was Falconnet who answered.
"Safe as the clock. You passed my sentry in the road?"
"Yes."
"He is the padlock of a chain that reaches round the house. Let's have your news, Captain."
"As I was saying, the Indians are at one with us. 'Twas all fair sailing in the council at Echota; the Chelakees being to a man fierce enough to dig the hatchet40 up. But I did have the devil's own teapot tempest with my Lord Charles. He says we have more friends than enemies in the border settlements, and these our redskins will tomahawk them all alike."
I made a mental note of this and wondered if my Lord Cornwallis had met with some new change of heart. He was not over-squeamish as I had known him. Then I heard the baronet say:
"But yet the thing is done?"
"As good as done. The Indians are to have powder and lead of us, after which they make a sudden onfall on the over-mountain settlements. And that fetches us to your part in it, Sir Frank; and to yours, Mr. Stair. Your troop, Captain, will be the convoy41 for this powder; and you, Mr. Stair, are requisitioned to provide the commissary."
"I can not, Captain Stuart; that I can not!" he protested, starting from his chair. "'Twill ruin me outright44! The place is stripped,—you know it well, Sir Francis,—stripped bare and clean by these thieving rebel militia-men; bare as the back of your hand, I tell you! I—"
But the captain put him down in brief.
"Enough, Mr. Stair; we'll not constrain45 you against your will. But 'tis hinted at headquarters that you are but a fair-weather royalist at best—nay46, that for some years back you have been as rebel as the rest in this nesting-place of traitors47. As a friend—mind you, as a friend—I would advise you to find the wherewithal to carry out my Lord's commands. Do you take me, Mr. Stair?"
The trembling old man fell back in his chair, nodding his "yes" dumbly like a marionette48 when the string has been jerked a thought too violently, and his weasel face was moist and clammy. I know not what double-dealing he would have been at before this, but it was surely something with the promise of a rope at the publishing of it.
So he and his factor fell to ciphering on a bit of paper, reckoning ways and means, as I took it, while Falconnet was asking for more particular orders.
"You'll have them from headquarters direct," said Stuart. "Oconostota will furnish carriers, a Cherokee escort, and guides. The rendezvous49 will be hereabouts, and your route will be the Great Trace."
"Then we are to hold on all and wait still longer?"
Falconnet's oath was of impatience51.
"We've waited now a month and more like men with halters round their necks. The country is alive with rebels."
Whereupon Captain Stuart began to explain at large how the northern route had been chosen for its very hazards, the better to throw the partizans off the scent52. I listened, eager for every word, but when the horses stirred behind me I was set back upon the oft-recurrent under-thought of how the gloom did also hide a silent figure lying prone53, with the three bridle54 reins55 knotted round its wrist.
But though the unnerving under-thought would not begone, the scene within the great room held me fast by eye and ear. The master and his factor sat apart, their heads together over the knotty56 problem of subsistence for the convoy troop. At the table-end, with the bottle gurgling now at one right hand and now at another, the three king's men drank confusion to the rebels, and in the intervals57 discussed the powder-convoy's route across the mountains. The senior plotter had some map or chart of his own making, and he was pricking58 out on it for Falconnet the route agreed upon in council with the Cherokees.
At this cool outlaying59 of the working plan, some proper sense of what this plot of savage-arming meant to every undefended cabin on the frontier seized and thrilled me. I knew, as every border-born among us knew, the dismal60 horrors of an Indian massacre; and this these men were planning was treacherous61 murder on an unwarned people. All was to be done in midnight secrecy62. Supplied with ammunition63, the Cherokees, led by this Captain Stuart or some other, were first to fall upon the over-mountain settlements. These laid waste, the Indians were to form a junction64 with the army of invasion, and so to add the torch and tomahawk and scalping knife to British swords and muskets65.
It was a plot to make the blood run cold in my veins66, or in the veins of any man who knew the cruel temper of these savages; and when I thought upon the fate of my poor countrymen beyond the mountains, I saw what lay before me.
The settlers must be warned in time to fight or fly.
But while I listened, with every faculty67 alert to reckon with the task of rescue, I take no shame in saying that the problem balked68 me. Lacking the strength to mount and ride in my own proper person, there was nothing for it but to find a messenger; and who would he be in a region at the moment distraught with war's alarums, and needing every man for self-defense?
At that, I thought of Jennifer. True, he was wounded, too; but he would know how best to pass the word to those in peril69. I made full sure he'd find a way if I could reach him; and when I had it simmered down to this, the problem simplified itself. I must have speech with Dick before the night was out, though I should have to crawl on hands and knees the half-score miles to Jennifer House.
Having decided70, I was keen to be about it while the night should last—the friendly darkness, and some fine flush of excitement which again had come at need to take the place of healthful vigor71. But when I would have quit the window to begone upon my errand a sober second thought delayed me. If my simple counterplot should fail, some knowledge of the powder-convoy's route would be of prime importance. Lacking the time to warn the over-mountain men, the next best thing would be to set some band of patriot72 troopers upon the trail and so to overtake the convoy. Nay, on this second thought's rehearsing the last expedient73 seemed the better of the two, since thus the plot would come to naught74 and we would be the gainers by the capture of the powder.
So now you know why I should stick and hang by toe and finger-tip and glare across the little space that gaped75 between my itching76 fingers and the bit of parchment passed from hand to hand around the table's end. If I could make a shift to rob them of this map—
It was a desperate chance, but in the frenzy77 of the moment I resolved to take it. Their placings round the table favored me. Gilbert Stair and the lawyer sat fair across from me, but they were still intent upon their figurings. Of the trio at the table's end, the baronet and the captain had their backs to me. The younger officer sat across, and he was staring broadly at my window, though with wine-fogged eyes that saw not far beyond the bottle-neck, I thought.
My one hope hinged upon the boldness of a dash. If I could spring within and sweep the two candlesticks from the table, there was a chance that I might snatch the parchment in the darkness and confusion and escape as I had come.
So I began by inches to draw me up and feel for some better launching hold. But in the midst, for all my care and caution, I slipped and lost my grip upon the casement78; lost that and got another on the wooden shutter79 opened back against the outer wall, and then went down, pulling the shutter from its rusted80 hinges in crashing clamor fit to rouse the dead.
As if they were quick echoes, other crashings followed as of chairs flung back; and then the window just above me filled with crowding figures. I marvel81 that I had the wit to lie quiet as I had fallen, but I had; and those above, looking from a lighted room into the belly82 of the night, saw nothing. Then Captain Stuart shouted to his dragoon horse-holder.
"Ho! Tom Garget; this way, man!" he cried; and when he had no answer, put a leg across the window seat to clamber out. 'Twas in the very act, while I was watching catlike every movement, that I saw the precious scrap83 of parchment in his hand.
Here was the chance I had prayed for. Tom Garget's sword had clattered84 down beside me, and with it I sprang afoot and cut a whizzing circle by my doughty85 captain's ear that made him cringe and gasp86 and all but tumble out upon me. The bit of parchment fluttered down and in a trice I had it safe.
You may think small of me, if so you must, my dears, when I confess what followed after. No man is braver than his opportunity, and I had little stomach for a fight with three unwounded men. Hence it was narrowed now to a bold sortie for the horses, and this I made while yet the captain hung in air and sought his foothold.
With all my breathless haste it was not done too soon, nor soon enough. When I had quickly freed a horse from the dead hand that held it tethered, and was making shift to climb into the saddle, they thronged87 upon me; the captain from his window, the others pouring hotly through the gaping88 doorway89.
I made shift to get astride the horse, to prick the poor beast with the point of sword, and so to break away in some brief dash beneath the oaks. But it was a chase soon ended. As I remember, I was reeling in the saddle what time the foremost of them overtook me. I held on grimly till the horse pursuing lapped the one I rode by head, by neck and presently by withers90. Then I turned and would be making frantic-feeble passes with the sword at the man upon his back.
It was my plotting captain who rode me thus to earth; and when I thrust he laughed and swore, and turned the blade aside with his bare hand. Then, pressing closer, he struck me with his fist, and thereupon the night and all its happenings went blank as if the blow had been a cannon91 shot to crush my skull92.
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1
bout
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| n.侵袭，发作；一次(阵，回)；拳击等比赛 | |
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garb
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| n.服装，装束 | |
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3
frayed
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| adj.磨损的v.（使布、绳等）磨损，磨破( fray的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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4
knight
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| n.骑士，武士；爵士 | |
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lieutenant
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| n.陆军中尉，海军上尉；代理官员，副职官员 | |
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6
afterward
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| adv.后来；以后 | |
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muse
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| n.缪斯（希腊神话中的女神），创作灵感 | |
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8
blues
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| n.抑郁，沮丧；布鲁斯音乐 | |
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9
shrieked
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| v.尖叫( shriek的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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10
gibe
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| n.讥笑；嘲弄 | |
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glum
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| adj.闷闷不乐的，阴郁的 | |
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kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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13
chuckled
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| 轻声地笑( chuckle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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14
throng
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| n.人群，群众；v.拥挤，群集 | |
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ruggedness
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| 险峻，粗野； 耐久性； 坚固性 | |
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16
dodging
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| n.避开，闪过，音调改变v.闪躲( dodge的现在分词 )；回避 | |
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17
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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18
steadfast
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| adj.固定的，不变的，不动摇的；忠实的；坚贞不移的 | |
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19
quail
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| n.鹌鹑；vi.畏惧，颤抖 | |
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petulant
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| adj.性急的，暴躁的 | |
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tilting
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| 倾斜，倾卸 | |
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promptly
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| adv.及时地，敏捷地 | |
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clinched
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| v.（尤指两人）互相紧紧抱[扭]住( clinch的过去式和过去分词 )；解决（争端、交易），达成（协议） | |
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24
shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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quench
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| vt.熄灭，扑灭；压制 | |
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smote
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| v.猛打，重击，打击( smite的过去式 ) | |
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wring
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| n.扭绞；v.拧，绞出，扭 | |
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28
hop
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| n.单脚跳，跳跃；vi.单脚跳，跳跃；着手做某事；vt.跳跃，跃过 | |
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29
fowl
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| n.家禽，鸡，禽肉 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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sentry
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| n.哨兵，警卫 | |
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prick
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| v.刺伤，刺痛，刺孔；n.刺伤，刺痛 | |
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bully
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| n.恃强欺弱者，小流氓；vt.威胁，欺侮 | |
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ambushed
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| v.埋伏( ambush的过去式和过去分词 )；埋伏着 | |
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35
groaned
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| v.呻吟( groan的过去式和过去分词 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
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massacre
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| n.残杀，大屠杀；v.残杀，集体屠杀 | |
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stoutly
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| adv.牢固地，粗壮的 | |
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38
savages
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| 未开化的人，野蛮人( savage的名词复数 ) | |
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39
brook
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| n.小河，溪；v.忍受，容让 | |
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40
hatchet
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| n.短柄小斧；v.扼杀 | |
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41
convoy
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| vt.护送，护卫，护航；n.护送；护送队 | |
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42
wink
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| n.眨眼，使眼色，瞬间；v.眨眼，使眼色，闪烁 | |
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43
shrilly
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| 尖声的； 光亮的，耀眼的 | |
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44
outright
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| adv.坦率地；彻底地；立即；adj.无疑的；彻底的 | |
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45
constrain
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| vt.限制，约束；克制，抑制 | |
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46
nay
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| adv.不；n.反对票，投反对票者 | |
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47
traitors
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| 卖国贼( traitor的名词复数 )； 叛徒； 背叛者； 背信弃义的人 | |
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48
marionette
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| n.木偶 | |
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49
rendezvous
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| n.约会，约会地点，汇合点；vi.汇合，集合；vt.使汇合，使在汇合地点相遇 | |
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50
cargo
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| n.(一只船或一架飞机运载的)货物 | |
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51
impatience
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| n.不耐烦，急躁 | |
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52
scent
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| n.气味，香味，香水，线索，嗅觉；v.嗅，发觉 | |
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53
prone
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| adj.(to)易于…的，很可能…的；俯卧的 | |
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54
bridle
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| n.笼头，束缚；vt.抑制，约束；动怒 | |
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55
reins
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| 感情，激情； 缰( rein的名词复数 )； 控制手段； 掌管； （成人带着幼儿走路以防其走失时用的）保护带 | |
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56
knotty
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| adj.有结的，多节的，多瘤的，棘手的 | |
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57
intervals
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| n.[军事]间隔( interval的名词复数 )；间隔时间；[数学]区间；（戏剧、电影或音乐会的）幕间休息 | |
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58
pricking
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| 刺，刺痕，刺痛感 | |
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59
outlaying
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| v.支出，费用( outlay的现在分词 ) | |
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dismal
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| adj.阴沉的，凄凉的，令人忧郁的，差劲的 | |
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treacherous
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| adj.不可靠的，有暗藏的危险的；adj.背叛的，背信弃义的 | |
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secrecy
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| n.秘密，保密，隐蔽 | |
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ammunition
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| n.军火，弹药 | |
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junction
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| n.连接，接合；交叉点，接合处，枢纽站 | |
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muskets
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| n.火枪，（尤指）滑膛枪( musket的名词复数 ) | |
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veins
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| n.纹理；矿脉( vein的名词复数 )；静脉；叶脉；纹理 | |
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faculty
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| n.才能；学院，系；(学院或系的)全体教学人员 | |
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balked
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| v.畏缩不前，犹豫( balk的过去式和过去分词 )；（指马）不肯跑 | |
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peril
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| n.(严重的)危险；危险的事物 | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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vigor
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| n.活力，精力，元气 | |
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patriot
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| n.爱国者，爱国主义者 | |
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expedient
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| adj.有用的，有利的；n.紧急的办法，权宜之计 | |
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naught
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| n.无，零 [=nought] | |
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gaped
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| v.目瞪口呆地凝视( gape的过去式和过去分词 )；张开，张大 | |
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itching
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| adj.贪得的，痒的，渴望的v.发痒( itch的现在分词 ) | |
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frenzy
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| n.疯狂，狂热，极度的激动 | |
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casement
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| n.竖铰链窗；窗扉 | |
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shutter
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| n.百叶窗；(照相机)快门；关闭装置 | |
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rusted
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| v.（使）生锈( rust的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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marvel
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| vi.(at)惊叹vt.感到惊异；n.令人惊异的事 | |
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belly
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| n.肚子，腹部；(像肚子一样)鼓起的部分，膛 | |
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scrap
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| n.碎片；废料；v.废弃，报废 | |
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clattered
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| 发出咔哒声（clatter的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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doughty
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| adj.勇猛的，坚强的 | |
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gasp
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| n.喘息，气喘；v.喘息；气吁吁他说 | |
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thronged
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| v.成群，挤满( throng的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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gaping
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| adj.口的；张口的；敞口的；多洞穴的v.目瞪口呆地凝视( gape的现在分词 )；张开，张大 | |
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doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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90
withers
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| 马肩隆 | |
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cannon
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| n.大炮，火炮；飞机上的机关炮 | |
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skull
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| n.头骨；颅骨 | |
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