Books: Janice Meredith

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"And 'stead of bringin' into Brunswick forty carts of food
and forage, and a swipe of cattle," groaned Philemon, "we
has only four waggon-loads of wounded ter show for our
raid."

"With the post nigh to short commons," went on Plunkett.
"Therefore, Mr. Meredith, we are put to the necessity of
taking a look at your barn and granaries.

"What!" roared the squire, incredulously, yet with a wrath
in his voice that went far to show that conviction rather than
disbelief was his true state of mind. "'T is impossible that
British regulars will thieve like the rebels."

Both the officers flushed, and Philemon began a faltering
explanation and self-exculpation, but he was cut short by his
superior saying sharply: "Tush, sir, such language will not
make us deal the more gently with your cribs; so if you 'd
save something, mend your speech."

"I done my best, squire," groaned Philemon, "ter dissuade
Captain Plunkett, but General Grant's orders was not
ter come back without a train."

"Then at least ye'll have the grace to pay for what ye
take? Ye'll be no worse than the rebel, that I'll lay to."

"Ay, and so we should, could we pay in the same worthless
brown paper. In truth, sir, 't was General Howe's and
the commissary's orders that nothing that we seize was to
be paid for, so if thou hast a quarrel 't is with those whom Mr.
Hennion says are thy good friends. Here 's a chance, therefore,
to exhibit the loyalty which the lieutenant has been dinging
into my ears for the last half-mile."

"Belza burn the lot of ye!" was the squire's prompt expression
of his loyalty.

Neither protests nor curses served, however, to turn the
marauders from their purpose. Once again the outbuildings
and store-rooms of Greenwood were ransacked and swept
clear of their goodly plenty, and once again, as if to deepen
the sense of injury, the stable was made to furnish the means
with which the robbery was to be completed.

While the troops were still scattered and occupied in piling
the loot upon the sleighs and sledges, a volley of something
more potent than the squire's oaths and objurgations interrupted
them. From behind the garden hedgerow of box
came a discharge of guns, and a dozen of the foraging party,
including both the captain and the lieutenant of foot, fell. A
moment of wild confusion followed, some of the British rushing
to where the troopers' steeds were standing, and, throwing
themselves into the saddles, found safety in flight, while the
rest sought shelter in the big barn. Here Lieutenant Hennion
succeeded in rallying them into some order, but it was
to find that numbers of the infantry had left their muskets,
and that many of the light horse were without their sabres,
both having been laid aside to expedite the work.

Not daring offensive operations with such a force, the young
officer, aided by the one subaltern, made the best disposition
possible for defence, trusting to hold the building until the
fugitives should return with aid from Brunswick. Those who
had their muskets were stationed at the few windows, while
the dragoons with drawn swords were grouped about the door,
ready to resist an attack.

The Jersey militia had too often experienced the effectiveness
of British bayonets and sabres to care to face them, and
so they continued behind the hedge, and coolly reloaded their
guns. Yet they, as well as their opponents, understood that
time was fighting against them, and as soon as it became obvious
that those in the barn intended no sortie they assumed
the initiative.

The first warning of this to the besieged was another volley,
which sent bullets through the windows and the crack in the
door, without doing the slightest injury. At the same moment
four men trailing their rifles appeared from behind the hedge,
and, scattering and dodging as they ran, made for the cow
yard. Two of the infantry who guarded the window that over-looked
this movement, thrust out their muskets and fired; but
neither of their shots told, for the moment they appeared five
flashes came from the hedge, and one of the defenders, as his
hand pressed the trigger, was struck in the forehead by a rifle
ball, and, staggering sidewise, he clutched his comrade's gun,
so that it sent its bullet skyward. Before new men could take
their places, the four runners had leaped the low fence and
dashed across the yard to the shelter under the barn.

Knowing that they must be dislodged, the lieutenant commanded
that the manure trap should be raised and a number
of the dragoons drop down it; but no sooner had one started
to swing himself through the opening than a gun cracked below,
and the man, relaxing his hold, fell lifeless on his face.
Another, not pausing to drop, jumped. He landed in a heap,
but was on his feet in a flash, only to fall backward with a
bullet through his lung. The rest hung back, unwilling to
face such certain death, though their officers struck them with
the flat of their swords.

Another moment developed the object of the attack, for
through the trap-door suddenly shone a red light, and with it
came the sound of crackling faggots. A cry of terror broke
from the British, and there was a wild rush for the door, which
many hands joined in throwing open. As it rolled back a
dozen guns spoke, and the seven exposed men fell in a confused
heap at the opening,--a lesson sharp enough to turn the
rest to right about.

All pretence of discipline disappeared at once, the men
ceasing to pay the slightest heed to their officers; and one,
panic-stricken with fear, threw off his coat and, fairly tearing
his shirt from his back, tied it to his bayonet and waved it
through the door. Hennion, with an oath, sprang forwards,
caught the gun and wrenched it out of the fellow's hands, at
the same moment stretching him flat with a blow in the neck;
but as he did so one of the troopers behind him cut the
officer down with his sabre. The subaltern of foot who rushed
to help his superior was caught and held by two of the men,
and the officers thus disposed of, the white flag was once
more held through the doorway.

At the very instant that this was accomplished, the fire
below found some crevice in the flooring under the hay, and
in a trice the mow burst into spitting and crackling flame.
With the holder of the white flag at their head, the men
dashed through the doorway, those with arms tossing them
away, and most of them throwing themselves flat upon the
ground, with the double purpose of signalling their surrender
and of escaping the bullets that might greet their exit.

In a moment they were the centre of a hundred men, who,
but for their guns, might have been taken for a lot of farmers
and field hands. One alone wore a military hat with a
cockade, and it was he who demanded in a voice of self-importance:--

"Have you surrendered, and where is your commanding
officer?"

"Yes," shouted a dozen of the British, while the three men
still holding the subaltern dragged him forward, without releasing
their hold on his arms.

"Give up your sword, then," demanded the wearer of the
cockade.

"I'll die first!" protested the young fellow,--a lad of not
over seventeen at most,--still struggling with his soldiers.
"You'll not see an officer coerced by his own men, sir," he
sobbed, as another of the soldiers caught him by the wrist and
twisted his sword from his hand.

"A mighty good lesson it is for your stinking British
pride," was the retort of the militia officer, as he accepted
the sword. "I guess you 're the kind of man we've been
looking for to make an example of. We'll teach you what
murdering our generals and plundering our houses come to--
eh, men?"

"Hooray fer Joe Bagby!" shouted one of the conquerors.

"Some of you tie the prisoners, except him, two and two,
and start them down the road at double quick," ordered Captain
Bagby. "Collect all the guns and sabres and throw
them on the sledges. Look alive there, for we've no time to
lose. Well, squire, what do you want?" he demanded, as he
turned and found the latter's hand on his sleeve.

"I've to thank ye for arriving in the nick o' time to save
me from being plundered," said Mr. Meredith, speaking as if
he were taking a dose of medicine. "Now can't ye set to
and save my outbuildings from taking fire?"

"Harkee, squire, replied Joe, dropping his voice to a confidential
pitch, while at the same time leading his interlocutor
aside out of hearing. "The sledges and what they hold is our
prize, captivated from the British in a fair fight, yet we'll get
around that if you'll say the right word."

"And what 's that?" queried the squire.

"You know as well as I what 't is. The sledges are yours,
and we'll do our prettiest to prevent the stables and cribs
from catching, if you'll but say what I want said as to Miss
Janice."

"I'd see her in her grave first."

"Some of you fellows start those sleighs and sledges up the
road!" shouted Bagby. "Now then, have you got that
officer ready?"

"He ain't ready, but we is, cap," answered one of the
little group about the prisoner.

"Up with him, then!" ordered Bagby. "See-saw 's the
word: down goes Mercer, up goes a bloody-back."

At the command, half a dozen men pulled on a rope which
had been passed over the bough of a tree, and the young subaltern
was swung clear of the ground. He struggled so
fiercely for a moment that the cords which bound his wrists
parted and he was able to clutch the rope above his head in a
desperate attempt to save himself. It was useless, for instantly
two rifles were levelled and two bullets sent through him; his
hands relaxing, he hung limply, save for a slight muscular
quiver.

"If your friends, the British, come back, you can tell them
that 's only the beginning," Bagby told the squire. "And
look out for yourself, or it 's what will come to you. Now
then, fellows, fall in," he called. "The line of retreat is to
Somerset Court-house, and you are to guard the prisoners and
the provisions if you can, but scatter if attacked in force.
March!"

The motley company, without pretence of order, set off on
their long, weary night tramp through the snow. Behind
them the flame of the barn, now towering sixty feet in the air,
made the whole scene bright with colour, save where the swinging
body of the lad threw a shifting shadow across a stretch of
untrampled snow.

XXXVII
BLUES AND REDS

As the squire still stood gloomily staring, now at the
departing Whigs, now at the blazing barn, and now
at his stable and other buildings, Clarion, who had
taken a great interest in the last hour's doings,
suddenly pricked up his ears and then ran forward to a snow-drift
within a few yards of the burning building. Here he
halted and gave vent to a series of loud yelps. Limping forward,
the squire heard his name called in a faint voice, and the
next instant discovered Philemon hidden in the snow.

"I'm bad hurt, squire," he groaned; "but I made out to
crawl from the barn."

"Gadsbodikins!" exclaimed Mr. Meredith. "Why, Phil, I
e'en forgot ye for the moment. Here 's a pass, indeed. And
none but women and a one-legged man to help ye, now ye re
found."

It took the whole household to carry Philemon indoors,
and as it was impossible, in the squire's legless and horseless
condition, to send for aid, Mrs. Meredith became the surgeon.
The wound proved to be a shoulder cut, serious only from the
loss of blood it had entailed, and after it was washed and
bandaged the patient was put to bed. Daylight had come by
the time this had been accomplished, and the squire was a
little cheered to find that the snow on the roofs of his farm
buildings had prevented the sparks of the barn from igniting
them.

[Illustration: "There's no safety for thee!"]

Twenty-four hours elapsed before help came to the household,
and then it was in the form of Harcourt's dragoons.
From Tarleton it was learned that the fugitives, on their
arrival at Brunswick, asserted that Washington's whole army
had attacked them, and was in full advance upon the post,--
news which had kept the whole force under arms for hours, and
prevented any attempt to come to the assistance of the detachment.
When the major learned that eighty picked troops had
been killed or captured by a hundred raw militia, his language
was more picturesque than quotable. There was nothing to be
done, however; and after they had vowed retaliation for the
subaltern, buried the dead, and the surgeon had looked at
Phil's wound and approved of Mrs. Meredith's treatment, the
squadron rode back to Brunswick.

This and other like experiences served to teach the English
that it was not safe to send out foraging parties, and for a
time active warfare practically ceased. The Continental forces,
reduced at times to less than a thousand men, were not strong
enough to attack the enemy's posts, and the British, however
much they might grumble over a fare of salt food, preferred it
to fresher victuals when too highly seasoned with rifle bullets.

The Merediths were somewhat better provided, Sukey's
store-rooms proving to have many an unransacked cupboard,
while the farmers in the vicinity, however bare they had
apparently been stripped, were able, when money was offered,
to supply poultry, eggs, milk, and many other comforts, which
through lack of stock and labour Greenwood could no longer
furnish.

His wound was therefore far from an ill to the lieutenant of
horse, since it not merely relieved him from the stigma of the
surrender, but saved him from the privation of the poor food
and cramped quarters his fellow troopers were enduring at
Brunswick. Nor did he count as the least advantage the tendance
that Janice, half by volition and half by compulsion, gave
him. When at last he was able to come downstairs, the days
were none too long as he sat and watched her nimble fingers
sew, or embroider, or work at some other of her tasks.

One drawback there was to this joy. In spite of strict
orders against straggling, many a red-coated officer risked
punishment for disobedience, and capture by the enemy, by
sneaking through the pickets and spending long hours at
Greenwood. Though Phil's service had given him much more
tongue and assurance than of yore, he was still unable to cope
with them; and, conscious that he cut but a poor figure to the
girl when they were present, he was at times jealous and
quarrelsome.

Twice he laid his anxieties and desires before the squire
and begged for an immediate wedding, but that worthy was by
no means as ready as once he had been; for while convinced
of the eventual success of the British, he foresaw unsettled
times in the immediate future, and knew that the marriage of
his girl to an officer of the English army was a serious if not
decisive step. Yet delay was all he wished, being too honest
a man to even think of breaking faith with the young fellow;
and finally one evening, when he had become genial over a
due, or rather undue, amount of Madeira and punch, he was
won over by Philemon's earnest persuasions, and declared that
the wedding should take place before the British broke up
their winter quarters and marched to Philadelphia.

The next morning the squire had no remembrance of his
evening's pledge, but he did not seek to cry off from it when
reminded by Philemon. Mrs. Meredith was called into conclave,
and then Janice was summoned and told of the edict.

"And now, lass, thou hast got thyself and us into more than
one scrape," ended the father, "so come and give thy dad a
kiss to show that thou 'rt cured of thy wrong-headedness and
will do as thy mother and I wish."

Without a word Janice went to her father and kissed him;
then she flung her arms about his neck, buried her head in his
shoulder, and burst into tears.

The squire had been quite prepared for the conduct of two
years previous and had steeled himself to enforce obedience,
but this contrary behaviour took him very much aback.

"Why, Jan," he expostulated, "this is no way to carry on
when a likely young officer bespeaks ye in marriage. Many 's
the maid would give her left hand to--"

"But I don't love him," sobbed the girl.

"And who asked if thou didst, miss?" inquired her mother,
who by dint of nursing Phil had become his strong partisan.
"Dost mean to put thy silly whims above thy parents'
judgments?"

"But you would n't do as your father wished, and married
dadda," moaned Janice.

"A giddy, perverse child I was," retorted Mrs. Meredith;
"and another art thou, to fling the misbehaviour in thy
mother's face."

"Nay, nay, Patty--" began the squire; but whether he was
stepping forward in defence of his wife or his daughter he was
not permitted to say, for Mrs. Meredith continued:--

"We'll set the wedding for next Thursday, if that suits thee,
Philemon?"

"You can't name a day too soon for me, marm," assented
Philemon, eagerly; "and as I just hearn the sound of hoofs
outside, 't is likely some officers has arrived, and I'll speak ter
them so 's ter get word ter the chaplain, and ter my regiment.
You need n't be afraid, Miss Janice, that 't won't be done in
high style. Like as not, General Grant will put the whole post
under arms." In truth, the lover was not at his ease, and was
glad enough for an excuse which took him from the room.
Nor was he less eager to announce his success to his comrades,
hoping it would put an end to their attentions to his bride.

"Then ye'll do as I bid ye, Jan?" questioned her father.

"Yes, dadda," Janice assented dutifully, while striving to
stifle her sobs. "I--I've been a--a--wicked creature, I
know, and now I'll do as you and mommy tell me."

If Philemon had been made uneasy by the girl's tears, her
manner during the balance of the day did not tend to make
him happier. Her sudden gravity and silence were so marked
that his fellow-officers who had come to supper, and who did
not know the true situation, rallied them both on Miss Meredith's
loss of spirits.

"I' faith," declared Sir Frederick Mobray, moved perhaps
by twinges of the little green monster, "but for the lieutenant's
word I'd take oath 't was a funeral we were to attend, and
issue orders for the casing of colours and muffling of drums.
In the name of good humour, Mr. Meredith, have in the spirits,
and I'll brew a punch that shall liquidate the gloom."

After one glass of the steaming drink, the ladies, as was
the custom, rose to leave the room. At the door Janice was
intercepted by Peg, with word that Sukey wished to advise
with her anent some matter, so the maid did not follow her
mother, but turned and entered the kitchen.

The cook was not in view; but as the girl realised the fact,
a cloaked man suddenly stepped from behind the chimney
breast, and before the scream that rose to Janice's lips could
escape, a firm hand was laid on them. Yet, even in the moment
of surprise, the girl was conscious that, press as the fingers
might, there was still an element of caress in their touch.

"I seem doomed to fright you, Miss Meredith," said
Brereton, "but, indeed, 't is not intentional. Twice in the
last week I've tried to gain speech of you without success,
and so to-night have taken desperate means." He took his
hand from her mouth. "This time I know myself safe in
your hands. Ah, Miss Janice, wilt not forgive me the suspicion?
for not one easy hour have I had since I knew how I
had wronged you. I was sent to eastward with despatches to
the New England governors, or nothing would have kept me
from earlier seeking you to crave a pardon."

"Yet thou wouldst not believe me, sir, when I sent thee
word."

"Sent me word, when?"

"By Lord Clowes."

"Clowes?"

"Yes. The morning after you were captivated."

"Not one word did he speak to me from the moment I
was trapped until--until you, like a good angel, as now I
know, came to my rescue." He bowed his head and pressed
his lips upon the palm of her hand.

The girl was beginning an explanation when a loud laugh
from the dining-room recalled to her the danger. "You
must not stay," she protested, as she caught away her hand,
which the aide had continued holding. "There are five--"

"I know it," interrupted Jack; "and if you 'd not come to
me, I'd have burst in on them rather than have my third
ride futile."

"Oh, go; please go!" begged the girl, his reckless manner
adding yet more to her alarm.

"Say that you forgive me," pleaded the officer, catching
her hands.

"Yes, yes, anything; only go!" besought Janice, as a second
laugh from the dining-room warned her anew of the peril.

Jack stooped and kissed each hand in turn, but even as he
did so one of the officers in the next room bawled:--

"Here 's a toast to Leftenant Hennion and his bride,--
hip, hip, hip, bumpers!"

Janice felt herself caught by both shoulders, with all the
tenderness gone from the touch.

"What does that mean?" the aide demanded, his face
very close to her own.

The girl, with bowed head, partly in shame, and partly to
escape the blazing eyes which fairly burned her own, replied:
"I am to marry Mr. Hennion next Thursday."

"Willingly?" burst from her questioner, as if the word
were shot from a bomb.

"No."

"Then you'll do nothing of the kind," denied Brereton,
with a sudden gaiety of voice. "My horse is hid in the
woods by the river; but say the word, and you shall be under
Lady Washington's protection at Morristown before daylight."

"And what then?" questioned the girl.

"Then? Why, a marriage with me the moment you'll
give me ay."

"But I care no more for you than I do for Mr. Hennion;
and even--"

"But I'll make you care for me," interrupted Jack, ardently.

"And even if I did," concluded Janice, "you yourself
helped to teach me what the world thinks of elopements."

"Ah, don't let--don't deny--"

"No, once for all; and release me, sir, I beg."

"Not till you swear to me that this accursed wedding is
not to take place till Thursday."

"Of course not."

"And where is it to be?"

"At the church in Brunswick."

"And is the looby with his regiment or staying here?"

"Here."

Brereton laughed gaily, and more loudly than was prudent.
"A bet and a marvel," he bantered: "a barley-corn to Miss
Janice Meredith, that the sweetest, most bewitching creature
in the world lacks a groom on her wedding day! I must not
tarry, for 't is thirty miles to Morristown, and three days is
none too much time for what I would do. Farewell," Jack
ended, once more catching her hands and kissing them. He
hurriedly crossed the room, but as he laid hold of the latch
he as suddenly turned and strode back to the maid. "Has
he ever kissed you?" he demanded, with a savage scowl on
his face.

"Never!" impulsively cried the girl, while the colour flooded
into her cheeks.

"Bless him for a cold-blooded icicle!" joyfully exclaimed
the officer; and before Janice could realise his intention she
was caught in his arms and fervently kissed. The next
moment a door slammed, and he was gone, leaving the girl
leaning for very want of breath against the chimney side,
with redder cheeks than ever.

The colour still lingered the next morning to such an extent
that it was commented upon by both her parents, who found
in it proof that she was now reconciled to their wishes. Had
they been closer observers, they would have noticed that
several times in the course of the day it waxed or waned
without apparent reason, that their daughter was singularly
restless, and that any sound out of doors caused her to start
and listen. Not even the getting out and trying on of her
wedding gown seemed to interest her. Yet nothing occurred
to break the usual monotony of the life.

Her state of nervous expectancy on the second day was
shown when the inevitable contingent of English officers
arrived a little before dinner; for as they appeared without
previous warning in the parlour door, Janice gave a scream,
which startled Philemon, who was relying upon but two legs
of his chair, into a pitch over backward, and brought the
squire's gouty foot to the floor with a bump and a wail of
pain.

"Body o' me!" ejaculated one of the new-corners. "Dost
take us for Satan himself, that ye greet us so?"

"Tush, man!" corrected Mobray. "Miss Meredith could
not see under our cloaks, and so, no doubt, thought us rebels.
Who wouldn't scream at the prospect of an attack of the
Continental blue devils--eh, Miss Janice?"

"Better the blue devils," retorted Janice, "than a scarlet
fever."

"Hah, hah!" laughed a fellow-officer. "'T was you got
us into that, Sir Frederick. Lieutenant Hennion, your first
task after to-morrow's ceremony is plain and clear.

"Would that I had the suppression of this rebellion!" groaned
the baronet, "'stead of one which fights us with direst cold and
hunger, to say nothing of the scurvy and the putrid fever."

For the next few hours cold and hunger and disease were
not in evidence, however; and it took little persuasion from
the squire, who dearly loved jovial company, to induce the
visitors to stay on to tea, and then to supper.

While they were enjoying the latter, the interruption Janice
had expected came at last. In the midst of the cheer, the
hall door was swung back so quietly that no one observed it,
and only when he who opened it spoke did those at table
realise the new arrival. Then the sight of the blue uniform
with buff facings brought every officer to his feet and set
them glancing cornerward, to where their side arms were
stood.