Joscelyn Cheshire: A Story of Revolutionary Days in the Carolinas Read online

  CHAPTER II.

  THE MARCH OF THE CONTINENTALS.

  "Thou art gone from my gaze like a beautiful dream." --LINLEY.

  The Cheshires and Cleverings were not akin, although the young peoplegave titles of kinship to the older folk. Mistress Cheshire had beentwice married, her first husband being brother to James Clevering. Afterher second widowhood she had moved from New Berne to Hillsboro'-town, tobe near her brother-in-law, for neither she nor her last husband had anynearer male relative this side of the sea. There had been no quarrelwith the Cleverings concerning her second marriage, so that she found inHillsboro' a ready welcome. The inland town promised more peace than thebustling seaport whence she had moved. There news of king and colonycame in with every vessel that cast anchor at the wharves, and, as aresult, the community was in a constant state of ferment. All this wasvery repugnant to Mistress Cheshire, who was a timid woman with no verydecided views upon public questions. Her one ruling desire was forpeace, no matter whence the source; she had lived quite happily underthe king's sceptre; but if Washington could establish a safe and quietgovernment, she would have no quarrel either with him or fate.

  But Joscelyn was different. Her father had been an ardent advocate ofkingly rule, and she had imbibed all of his enthusiasm for England andEnglish sovereignty. He had died just before the battle of Lexington setthe western continent athrob with a new national life. Consequently, theremoval from New Berne had been much against Joscelyn's inclination, forshe desired to be in the front and press of the excitement. But seeinghow her mother's heart was set on it, she finally withdrew heropposition. Still she carried to her new home the bitter Toryism withwhich her father had so deeply ingrained her nature. In anotheratmosphere this feeling might have spent itself in idle fancies and vainregrets; but in daily, almost hourly, contact with the Cleverings, whosepatriotism was ever at high tide, she was kept constantly on thedefensive, and in a spirit of resistance that knew no compromise. Theelder Cleverings and Betty looked upon her outbreaks good-humouredly,treating them as the whims of a spoiled child. But not so Richard. Hiswhole soul was in the revolt of the colonies; every nerve in him wasattuned to war and strife, and he was vehemently intolerant of anyadverse opinion, so that between him and Joscelyn the subject came to beas flint and steel. He did not scruple to tell her that she was foolish,obstinate, logically blind, and that her opinions were not of thesmallest consequence; and yet the stanch loyalty with which shedefended her cause, and the ready defiance with which she met his everyattack won his admiration. Very speedily he separated her personalityfrom her views, and loved the one while he despised the other. Nothingbut fear of her ridicule had hitherto held him silent upon the subjectof his love.

  While the merry-making went on at the Cleverings' that last night of hisstay at home, Joscelyn sat playing cards with the Singletons, whom shepersuaded to remain to tea, making her loneliness her plea.

  "It passes my understanding," said Eustace, as he slowly shuffled thecards, "how these insurgents can hope to win. Even their so-calledcongress has had to move twice before the advance of his Majesty'stroops. A nation that has two seats of government in two years seemsrather shifty on its base."

  "It must have been a brave sight to see General Howe march intoPhiladelphia," said Joscelyn. "Methinks I can almost hear the drums beatand see the flags flying in the wind. Would I had been there to cry'long live the king' with the faithful of the land."

  But Mary shuddered. "I am content to be no nearer than I am to thebattle scenes. The mustering of the Continental company to-day hassatisfied my eyes with martial shows."

  "Call you that a martial show?" her brother laughed derisively. "Why,that was but a shabby make-believe with only half of the men properlyuniformed and equipped. Martial show, indeed! Rather was it a gatheringof scarecrows. I prophesy that in six months the 'indomitable army ofthe young Republic,' as the leaders style the undisciplined rabble thatfollows them, will be again quietly ploughing their fields or lookingafter other private affairs."

  "And while you are prophesying you are playing your cards mostfoolishly, and I am defeating you."

  "True, you have me fairly with that ace. Let us try it again--'Deprissaresurgit,' as the Continentals say on their worthless paper money."

  "Joscelyn," said Mary suddenly, "did I tell you that Aunt Ann said inher letter that Cousin Ellen wore a yellow silk to the ball given towelcome General Howe to Philadelphia?"

  "I do believe you left out that important item," laughed Joscelyn.

  "Why, how came you to be so remiss, I pray you, sister? The flight ofcongress from the Quaker city, and its seizure by his Majesty's troops,are but insignificant matters compared to the fact that our cousin woreyellow silk to the general's ball," teased her brother. Whereupon Marywent pouting across the room and sat at the window, calling out to theplayers at the table the names of those who went in and out of the houseof festivity opposite.

  "Yonder are Mistress Strudwick and Doris Henderson--dear me! I wonderwhat it feels like to be so stout as Mistress Strudwick? Billy Bryce andhis mother are just behind them. I see Janet and Betty through thewindow. Betty has on that pink brocade with the white lace."

  "Then I warrant some of those recruits will go to the war alreadywounded, for in that gown Mistress Betty is sweet enough to break anyman's heart."

  "Eustace, I do believe you are halfway in love with Betty."

  "Why put it only halfway, my dear? The whole is ever better than apart."

  "What think you, Joscelyn, is he in earnest? And how does Betty likehim?"

  But Joscelyn laughingly quoted the biblical text about being "unevenlyyoked together with unbelievers," reminding Mary that Betty was a Whig,and Eustace a Loyalist, and this was a bar that even Cupid must not pulldown. Whereupon Eustace laughed aloud; and Mary was satisfied.

  Early the next morning Betty ran over to make her protest againstJoscelyn's absence of the night before. "Richard seemed not to care, butmother and I were much chagrined that you did not come."

  "I certainly meant no offence to you and Aunt Clevering," answeredJoscelyn, "but Richard and I have a way of forgetting our companymanners which is most unpleasant to spectators."

  "Yes; mother read Richard a most proper lecture this morning about theway he quarrels with you, and he is coming over later to make his peace;he says he thinks that perhaps mother is right, and that he will feelbetter to carry in his heart no grudge against any one when he goes intobattle. And you must be very kind to him, Joscelyn, for it is a greatconcession on his part to apologize thus. Supposing if--if anythinghappened to him, and you had sent him away in anger!"

  Joscelyn drew the young girl to her. "So you have appointed yourselfkeeper-in-chief of my conscience? Well, well; I will hold a most strictwatch over my tongue during the next few hours, so that it may give youno offence. Still, I am not easily conscience-stricken, and neither, Ithink, is Master Clevering."

  "The Singletons passed the evening with you, did they not?" asked Betty,who had glanced across at her friend's window the night before, and hadseen them playing cards together.

  "Yes; and Eustace said some very pretty things about you and your pinkfrock. What a pity you are of different political beliefs, for--Why,Betty, what a beautiful colour has come into your cheeks."

  "Stuff, Joscelyn! But--what said Master Singleton?" And when the speechwas repeated, the girl's sweet face was redder than ever.

  For a few moments Joscelyn looked at her in consternation. Betty caredfor Eustace! It seemed the very acme of irony. Then tenderly she strokedthe brown hair, wondering silently at the game of cross-purposes love isalways playing. Uncle and Aunt Clevering, with their violent views,would follow Betty to her grave rather than to her bridal with Eustace,for, besides the party differences, the older folk of the two familieshad long been separated by a bitter quarrel over a title-deed.Joscelyn's own friendship for Mary and Eustace had been the cause ofsome sharp words between her and her uncle; a thousand times
more wouldhe resent Betty's defection. "But they shall not break her heart!" shesaid to herself, with a sudden tightening of her arms about the clinginggirl.

  An hour later Richard knocked at the door and was admitted by MistressCheshire, for Joscelyn had gone to her own room at the sound of his stepoutside.

  "No, I will not come down. I have promised Betty not to quarrel withhim, and the only way to keep my word is not to see him," she said toher mother over the banister. "Tell him I hope he will soon come backwhole of body, but as gloriously defeated as all rebels deserve to be."

  In vain her mother urged, and in vain Richard called from the foot ofthe stair; she neither answered nor appeared in sight.

  "Tell her, Aunt Cheshire, that I never thought to find her hiding in hercovert; a soldier who believes in his cause hesitates not to meet hisadversary in open field; it is the doubtful in courage or confidence whorun to cover." And he went down the step with his head up angrily andhis sword clanging behind him.

  In the upper hall Joscelyn held her hands tightly over her mouth toforce back the stinging retort. Then, with a derisive smile, she wentdownstairs and sat in the hall window, in plain view of the street andthe house across the way.

  That afternoon his company marched afield. The town was full of noiseand excitement, and the mingled sound of sobbing and of forced laughter,as the line was formed in the market-place and moved with martial stepdown the long, unpaved street, the rolling drums and clear-toned buglesstirring the blood to a frenzy of enthusiasm. The sidewalks were linedwith spectators, the patriots shouting, the luke-warm looking onsilently. Every house along the route through the town was hung withwind-swung wreaths of evergreen or streamers of the bonny buff andblue--every one until they reached the Cheshire dwelling. There theshutters were close drawn as though some grief brooded within, and uponthe outside of the closed door hung a picture of King George framed incountless loops of scarlet ribbon that flamed out like a sun-blown poppyby contrast with the soberer tints of the Continentals. Here was achallenge that none might misunderstand. The sight was as the red rag inthe toreador's hand to the bull in the arena; and, like an infuriatedanimal, the crowd surged and swayed and rent the air with an angry roar.The marching line came suddenly to a full stop without a word ofcommand, and the roar was interspersed with hisses. Then there was arush forward, and twenty hands tore at the pictured face and flauntingribbons, and brought them out to be trampled under foot in the dust ofthe road, while a voice cried out of the crowd:--

  "Down with the Royalists! Fire!"

  And there was a rattle and a flash of steel down the martial line asmuskets went to shoulders. But Richard Clevering, pale with fear, sprangto the steps between the deadly muzzles and the door and lifted a handto either upright, while his voice rang like a trumpet down the line:--

  "Stay! There are no men here. This is but a girl's mad prank. Men, men,turn not your guns against two lonely women; save your weapons forrightful game! Shoulder arms! Forward! March!"

  There was a moment's hesitation, a muttering down the ranks; then theguns were shouldered and the column fell once more into step with thedrums, while the crowd shouted its approval. But above the last echoesof that shout a woman's jeering laugh rang out upon the air; and,lifting eyes, the crowd beheld Joscelyn Cheshire, clad in a scarletsatin bodice, lean out of her opened casement and knot a bunch of thatsame bright-hued ribbon upon the shutter. With the throng in suchvolcanic temper it was a perilous thing to do; and yet so insidious washer daring, so great her beauty, that not so much as a stone was cast atthis new signal of loyalty, and not a voice was lifted in anger.

  And this was the last vision that Richard had of her--the vivid, glowingpicture he carried in his heart through the long campaigns, whether itwas as he rushed through the smoke-swirls of battle or bivouacked underthe cold, white stars.