Books: Janice Meredith

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"Come, sir,", said Loring, irritably, "if the whole army is
not to have wind of this, follow me. Daybreak is not far
away, and you should be in the saddle."

The aide once more went to Janice, and would have again
taken her hand; but the girl shrank away, and turned her back
upon him.

"One farewell," pleaded Jack.

"You have had it," replied Janice, without turning.

"Ay. Be off with you," seconded Howe, and without a
word Brereton followed Loring from the room.

As the front door banged, and ere any one had spoken, the
thunder of a cannon sounded loud and clear, and at short
intervals other booms succeeded, as if the first was echoing
repeatedly. But the trained ear of the general was not
deceived.

"'T is the water battery saluting," he said, rising. "So Sir
Henry Clinton has evidently arrived. Come, gentlemen, 't is
only courteous that we meet him at the landing."

XLVI
THE FAREWELL TO HOWE

In the movement that ensued, Janice slipped into the
hallway, and in a moment she was scurrying along
the street, so busy with her thoughts that she forgot
the satin slippers which had hitherto been so carefully
saved from the pavements. She had not gone a square when
the sound of footsteps behind her made the girl quicken her
pace; but instantly the pursuer accelerated his, and, really
alarmed, Janice broke into a run which ended only as she
darted up the steps of her home, where she seized the
knocker and banged wildly. Before any one had been roused
within, the man stood beside her, and with his first word the
fugitive recognised Lord Clowes.

"I meant not to frighten ye," he said; "but ye should not
have come away alone, for there are pretty desperate knaves
stealing about, and had ye encountered the patrol, ye would
have been taken to the provost-marshal for carrying no
lantern."

Relieved to know who it was, but too breathless to make
reply, Janice leaned against the lintel until a sleepy soldier
gave them entrance. There was a further delay while Lord
Clowes ignited a dip from the lamp and lighted her to the
stairway. Here he handed it to her, but retaining his own
hold, so as to prevent her departing, he said--

"I lost my temper at hearing that young scamp make such
ardent love, and so I spoke harshly to ye. Canst not make
allowance for a lover's jealousy?"

"Please let me have the light."

[Illustration: "Where is that paper?"]

"Whether ye pardon me or no, of one thing I am sure,"
went on Clowes, still holding the candle, "ye are not so love-sick
of this rogue as to overlook his seeking the aid of his discarded
mistress in his suit of ye. I noted your look as she
kissed him."

"'T is not a subject I choose to discuss with you, nor is it
one for any gentlewoman," said Janice, dropping her hold on
the candle and starting upstairs. At the top she paused long
enough to say, "Nor do I trust your version," and then
hurried to her room and bolted the door.

Here, dark as it was, she went straight to the bureau, and
pulling open the bottom drawer fumbled about in it. Her
hands presently encountered the unfinished purse, and for a
moment they closed on it, while something resembling a sob
escaped her. But with one hand she continued searching;
and so soon as her groping put her fingers on the miniature
of Mrs. Loring she rose, and feeling the way to a window, she
opened it and threw out the slip of ivory. The girl made a
motion as if to send the purse after it, but checked the impulse,
and forgetting to close the window, and without a
thought of her once treasured gown, she threw herself on the
bed, and began to sob miserably. Before many minutes, worn
out with excitement, fatigue, and the lateness, she fell asleep, but
it was only to dream uneasily over the night's doings, in which
all was a confused jumble, save for the eager tones of her
lover's voice as he pleaded his suit, the sight of him as he lay
on the floor after the candles had been lighted, and, finally,
the look in his eyes as he made his farewell. Yet no sooner
did these recur than they were succeeded by that of Mrs.
Loring's eager and passionate kissing of Brereton, and each
time this served to bring Janice back into a half-awake
condition.

After breakfast the next morning, as she was pretendedly
reading Racine's "Iphigenie," lest her mother should find her
doing nothing and order her to some task, a letter was
handed her by one of the servants, with word that it had
been brought by a soldier; and breaking the seal, Janice read:

My deer child
pleas do forgiv al i spoke to yu a bout the furst time i see yu
for i did not understan it at al i was dredful up set bi last nite
and feel mitey pukish this mawning, but i hope yu will cum to see
me soon for i want much to tawk with yu a bout how i can help
yu and to kiss and hugg yu for yu ar so prity that i shud
lov just to tuck yu lik sum one else did yu see how his eys lovd
yu when he was going a way he yused to look that way at me
and i cried mitey hard al nite at his krulty pleas cum soon
to unhapy
Jane Loring.
ps. i shal cum to yu if yu dont cum quick

"There is no answer," the maiden told the servant; then,
as he went to the door she added, "And should a Mrs. Loring
wish to see me, you will refuse me to her."

Left alone, Janice went to the fireplace, in which the
advance of spring no longer made a fire necessary, and, taking
from its niche the tinder box, she struck flint on steel, and
in a moment had a blaze started. Not waiting to let it gain
headway, she laid the letter upon the flame, and held it there
with the tongs till it ignited. "I knew without your telling
me," she said, "that he no longer loved you, and great wonder
it is, considering your age, that he ever could."

"Hast turned fire-worshipper?" demanded Andre's voice,
merrily, as she still knelt, "for if so, 't will be glad news for
the sparks."

The girl sprang to her feet. "I--I was just burning a
--a--some rubbish," she answered.

"Here I am, not in the lion's den, but in the jackal's, and
my stay must be brief. Canst detect that I am big with
news?"

"Of what?"'

"This morning Sir Henry Clinton arrived, and for the first
time the army learns that Sir William has resigned his
command, and is leaving us. The field officers wish to mark
his departure by a farewell fete in his honour, and as it would
be a mockery without the ladies, we are appealing to them to
aid us. We plan to have a tourney of knights, each of whom
is to have a damsel who shall reward him with a favour at the
end of the contest. I have bespoken fair Peggy for mine,
and I am sure Mobray, who is not yet returned, will ask you.
Wilt help us?"

"Gladly," assented Janice, eagerly, "if dadda will let me."

"I met him in High Street on my way here, made my
plea, and, though at first he pulled a negative look, when I
reminded him he owed Sir William for a good place, he
relented and said you could."

"And what am I to do?"

"You are to be gowned in a Turkish costume, in the--"

"Nay, Captain Andre" replied Janice, shaking her head,
"we are too poor to spend any money in such manner."

"Think you the knights are so lacking in chivalry that we
could permit our guests to pay? The subscription is large
enough to cover all expenses, the stuffs are already purchased,
and all you will have to do is to make them up in the manner
of this sketch."

"Then I accept with pleasure and thanks."

"'T is we owe the thanks. And now farewell, for I have
much to do."

"Captain Andre," said the girl, as he opened the door, "I
have a question--Wilt answer me something?"

"Need you ask?"

"I suppose 't is a peculiar one, and so--Do you--is it
generally thought by--Do the gentlemen of the army deem
Mrs. Loring beautiful?"

"Too handsome for the good of our--of the army."

"Even though she paints and powders?"

"But in London and Paris 't is the mode."

"I think 't is a horrid custom."

"And so would every woman had she but thy cheeks. Ah,
Miss Meredith, 't is easy for the maid whose tints are a daily
toast at the messes to blame those to whom nature has not
given a transparent skin and mantling blood."

When Mobray returned from Germantown, he at once
sought out Janice and confirmed Andre's action. Though he
found her working on the costume, it was with so melancholy
a countenance that he demanded the cause.

"T is what you know already," moaned the girl, miserably.
"Lord Clowes is pressing me for an answer, and now dadda is
urgent that I give him ay."

"Why?"

"He went to see Sir Henry, and had so cold a reception
that he thinks 't is certain he is to lose his place, let alone the
report that General Clinton was heard to say Sir William's
friends were to be got rid of. What can we do?"

"But Char--Brereton assured me he had spoked the
fellow's wheel by securing the aid of--"

"'T is naught to me what he has done," interrupted Janice,
proudly; "nor did I give him the right to intervene."

"You must not give yourself to Clowes. 'T is--ah--
rather than see that I'll speak out."

"About what?"

"Leftenant Hennion is not dead! 'T was but another of
Clowes' lies, and your father shall know it, let him do his
worst." Without giving his courage time to cool, the young
fellow dashed across the hallway to the office where the commissary
and squire were sitting, and announced: "News, Mr.
Meredith. Leftenant Hennion is alive, for his name was on
the rebel lists of prisoners to be exchanged."

"Oddsbodikins!" ejaculated the squire. "Here 's an upset,
Clowes, to all our talk."

"Ye'll not be fool enough to let it make any difference,"
growled the baron, his eyes resting on Mobray with a look that
boded no good. "Ye'll only increase your difficulties by
holding to that old folly."

"Nay, Clowes, Lambert Meredith ne'er broke his word to
any man, and, God helping, he never will."

With a real struggle, the commissary held his anger in check.
"I'll talk of this later," he said, after a pause, "when I can
speak less warmly than now I feel. As for ye, sir," he said,
facing Mobray, "I will endeavour--the favour ye have done
shall not be forgotten."

"Take what revenge you please, my Lord," replied Mobray,
his voice shaking a little none the less, "I have done what as a
gentleman I was compelled to do, and am ready for the consequences,
be they what they may."

"A fit return for my lenience," remarked Clowes to the
squire after Sir Frederick had made his exit. "He has long
owed me money, for which I have never pressed him, yet now
he would have it that if I but ask payment, 't is revenge."

One result of Mobray's outbreak was to give Janice another
knight for the pageant.

"'T is a crying shame," Andre told her; "but poor Fred
has gone to the wall at last, and is to be sold up. Therefore he
chooses to withdraw from the tourney, and begs me to make
his apologies to you, for he is too dumpish to wish to see any
one. 'T will make no difference to you, save that you will
have Brigade Major Tarleton in place of the baronet."

"Can nothing be done for him?" asked Janice.

"Be assured, if anything could be, his fellow-officers would
not have allowed the army to lose him, for he is loved by
every man in the service; but he is in for over eight thousand
pounds."

"'T is very sad," sighed Janice. "I thought him a man of
property," she added aloud, while to herself she said, "Then it
could not have been he who bought my miniature."

"Nay, he was sometimes in funds by his winnings, but he
long since scattered his patrimony."

Janice's letter to Tabitha had long before, by its length, become
in truth a journal, and to its pages were confided an
account of the farewell fete to the British general:--

"'The Mischianza,' as 't is styled; Tibbie, began at four
o clock in the afternoon with a grand regatta, all the galleys and
flatboats being covered with awnings and dressed out with colours
and streamers, making a most elegant spectacle. The embarkation
took place at the upper end of the city, mommy and I entering
the 'Hussar' which bore Sir William Howe. Preceded by
the music boats, the full length of the town we were rowed,
whilst every ship was decked with flags and ensigns, and the
shores were crowded with spectators, who joined in 'God save
the King' when the bands played it; and the 'Roebuck' frigate
fired a royal salute. About six we drew up opposite the Wharton
house, and landing, made our way between files of troops and
sailors to a triumphal arch that ushered to an amphitheatre
which had been erected for the guests, of whom, Tibbie, but four
hundred were invited. Behind these seats spectators not to be
numbered darked the whole plain around; held in check by a
strong guard which controlled their curiosity. The fourteen
knights' ladies (selected, Tibbie, so 't was given out, as the fore-most
in youth, beauty, and fashion, and into a fine frenzy it threw
those maids who were not asked) were seated in the front, and
though 't is not for me to say it, we made a most pleasing display.
Our costume was fancy, and consisted of gauze turbans, spangled
and edged with gold and silver, on the right side of which a veil
of the same hung as low as the waist, and the left side of the
turban was enriched with pearls and tassels of gold or silver,
crested with a feather. The jacket was of the polonaise kind; of
white silk with long sleeves, and sashes worn around the waist
tied with a large bow on the left side, hung very low and trimmed,
spangled; and fringed according to the colours of the knight.
But, wilt believe it, Tibbie, instead of skirts, 't was loose trousers,
gathered at the ankle, we wore, and a fine to-do mommy made at
first over the idea, till dadda said I might do as the other girls
did; though indeed, Tibbie, 't is to be confessed I felt monstrous
strange, and scarce enjoyed a dance through thought of them.
And here let me relate that this was the ostensible reason for Mr.
Shippen refusing to allow Margaret and Sarah to take part
after they had their gowns made (and weren't they dancing
mad at being forbid!), but 't is more shrewdly suspected that
't was because of a rumour (which no thinking person credits) that
Philadelphia is to be evacuated, and so, being a man of no opinions,
he chose not to risk offending the Whigs.

"Once seated; the combined bands of the army sounded a very
loud and animated march, which was the signal for the beginning
of the ceremony of the carousel. The seven knights of The
Blended Rose, most marvellously dressed in a costume of the
Henry IV. period of France (which, being so beyond description,
I have endeavoured a sketch), on white horses, preceded by a herald
and three trumpeters, entered the quadrangle, and by proclamation
asserted that the ladies of The Blended Rose excelled in
wit, beauty, and accomplishment those of the whole world, and
challenged any knight to dispute it. Thereupon appeared the
seven knights of The Burning Mountain, and by their herald
announced that they would disprove by arms the vainglorious
assertions of the knights of The Blended Rose and show that the
ladies of The Burning Mountain as far excelled all others in
charms as the knights themselves surpassed all others in prowess.
Upon this a glove of defiance was thrown, the esquires presented
their knights with their lances, the signal for the charge was
sounded, and the conflict ensued, until on a second signal they fell
back, leaving but their chiefs in single combat. These fighting
furiously, were Presently parted by the judges of the field, with
the announcement that they were of equal valour, and their ladies
of equal beauty. Forming in single file, they advanced and
saluted, and a finish was put to this part of the entertainment.

"We now retired to the house for tea, where the knights,
having dismounted, followed us, and paid homage to their fair
ones, from each of whom they received a favour. The ball then
succeeded, which lasted till nine, when the company distributed
themselves at the windows and doors to view fireworks of marvellous
beauty, ending with a grand illumination of the arch.
More dancing then occupied us, till we were summoned to supper,
which was served in a saloon one hundred and eighty feet
long, gaily painted and decorated; and made brilliant by a great
number of lustres hung from the roof, while looking-glasses,
chandeliers, and girandoles decked the walls, the whole enlivened
by garlands of flowers and festoons of silk and ribbons. Here
we were waited upon by twenty-four negroes in blue and white
turbans and party-coloured clothes and sashes, whilst the most
pathetic music was performed by a concealed band. Toasts to
the king and queen, the royal family, the army and navy, with
their respective commanders, the knights and their ladies, and
the ladies in general, were drunk in succession, each followed
by a flourish of music, when once again the dancing was resumed,
and lasted till the orb of day intruded his presence
upon us.

"Sir William left us at noon to-day, regretted by the whole
army, and, as I write this, I can hear a salute of guns in
honour of Sir Henry Clinton's assuming the command. Pray
Heaven he does not remove dadda.

"At last I know, Tibbie, what court life must be like."

Three days after the departure of Howe, the squire came into
dinner, a paper in hand, and with a beaming face. "Fine
news!" he observed. "I am not to be displaced."

"Good!" cried the commissary, while Janice clapped her
hands. "I spoke to Sir Henry strongly in your favour, and
am joyed to hear that it has borne fruit."

"How dost thou know, Lambert?" asked Mrs. Meredith.

"I have here an order to load the 'Rose' tender with such
rebel property as the commissaries shall designate, and superintend
its removal to New York. They 'd ne'er employ me
on so long a job, were I marked to lose my employment, eh,
Clowes?"

"Well reasoned. For 't is not merely a task of time, but one
of confidence. But look ye, man, if ye 're indeed to make a
voyage to York and back, which will likely take a month, 't is
best that we settle this question of marriage ere ye go. I've
given Miss Janice time, I think ye'll grant, and 't will be an
advantage in your absence that she and Mrs. Meredith have
one bound to protect them."

"I'd say ay in a moment, Clowes, but for my word to
Hennion."

"'T is a promise thou shouldst ne'er have made, and which
it is now thy every interest to be quit of, let alone that 't is so
distasteful to thy daughter."

"A promise is a promise," answered the father, with an
obstinate motion of head.

"And a fool 's a fool," retorted Clowes, losing his temper.
"In counsel and aid I've done my best for ye; now go your
gait, and see what comes of it."

A week later, Mr. Meredith bade farewell to wife and
daughter.

"I wish you were n't going, dadda," Janice moaned. "'T is
so akin to last summer that it frights me."

"Nay, lass, be grateful that I have the job to do, and that
with good winds I shall return within a fortnight. Clowes
has passed his word that ye shall want for nothing. I'll be
back ere ye know I've gone."

There was a good cause, however, for the girl's fear of the
future, for in less than a week from her father's sailing, on every
street corner, in every tavern, and in every drawing-room of
the town the news that Philadelphia was to be evacuated was
being eagerly and anxiously discussed.

XLVII
THE EVACUATION

Confirmation of the rumour, so far as Mrs. Meredith
and Janice were concerned, was first received
through the commissary.

"Ay," he told them, when questioned; "'t was
decided at a council of war the very day Howe left us, and
that was why we at once began transferring our stores and the
seized property to New York, one cargo of which your husband
was put in charge. 'T will tax our shipping to the utmost to
save it all."

"But why didst thou not warn us, so that we might have
embarked with him?" asked Mrs. Meredith.

"'T was a military secret to be told to no one."

"Can dadda return ere the evacuation begins?"

"'T is scarce possible, even if his orders permit it."

"Then what are we to do?"

"Thou hadst best apply at once to the deputy quartermaster-general
for transports."

Mrs. Meredith acted on this advice the following day, but
without success.

"Think you the king's ships and transports have naught to
do but act as packet-boats for you Americans?" the deputy
asked. "Hundreds of applications have been filed already,
and not another one will we receive. If you 'd for New York,
hire a passage in a private ship."

This was easier to recommend than to do, for such was the
frantic demand for accommodation that the prices had been
raised to exorbitant figures, quite beyond their means. So
appeal was made once more to Clowes.

"'T is something of a quandary," he remarked; "but there is
a simple way out."

"What?"

"I'd have saved ye all worry over the matter but that I
wished ye to learn the difficulties. I have never made pretence
to doing favours out of mere kindness of heart, and ye
know quite as well as I why I have given ye lodging and other
aids. But for that very reason I am getting wearied of doing
all and receiving nothing, and have come to the end. Give me
Miss Janice, and my wife and mother shall have passage in the
ship I sail in."

"You take a poor way, Lord Clowes, to gain your wish,"
said Janice. "Generosity--"

"Has had a six months' trial, and brought me no nearer to
a consummation," interrupted the baron. "Small wonder I
sicken of it and lose patience."

"'T is not to be expected that I would let Janice wed thee
when her father has given thee nay."

"Because he has passed his word to another, and so holds
himself bound. He said he'd consent but for that, and by acting
in his absence ye can save him a broken oath, yet do the
sensible thing. He'll be glad enough once done; that I'll
tie to."

"It scarce betters it in a moral sense," replied Mrs. Meredith.
"However, we will not answer till we have had a chance to discuss
it by ourselves."

"Janice," said her mother, once they were alone, "thy
dread of that man is a just one, and I--"

"I know--I know," broke in the daughter, miserably; "but
I--if I can make us all easy as to money and future--"

"Those are but worldly benefits, child."

"But, mommy," said the girl, chokingly, as she knelt at her
mother's feet and threw her arms about Mrs. Meredith's waist,
"since live we must, what can we do but--but--Oh, would
that I had never been born!" and then the girl buried her
head in her mother's lap.

"'T is most unseemly, child, to speak so. God has put us here
to punish and chasten us for Adam's sin; and 't is not for us,
who sinned in him, to question His infinite wisdom."

"Then I wish He 'd tell me what it is my duty to do!"
lamented Janice.

"Thinkest thou he has nothing to do but take thought of thy
affairs?"

"Wouldst have me marry him, mommy?" asked the girl,
chokingly.

"Let us talk no further now, child, but take a night's thought
over it."

They were engaged in discussing the problem the following
afternoon, when Lieutenant Hennion burst in upon them.

"Why, Phil!" cried Mrs. Meredith; and Janice, springing
from her chair, met him half-way with outstretched hand, while
exclaiming, "Oh, Mr. Hennion, 't is indeed good to see an old
friend's face."

"'T is glad tidings ter me ter hearn you say that," declared
Philemon, eagerly. "Yestere'en General Lee and the other
rebel prisoners came out from Philadelphia, and we, having
been brought from Morristown some days ago, were at once set at
liberty; but 't was too late ter come in, so we waited for daylight.
I only reported at quarters, and then, learning where you lodged,
I come--I came straight ter--to find how you fared."

Alternating explanation and commentary, the women told of
their difficulties.

"I can't aid you to get aboard one of the ships, for I've had
ter draw my full pay all the time I was prisoner, the rebels nigh
starving us, let alone freezing, so money 's as scarce with me as
with you. But I'll go ter--to my colonel, and see if I can't
get permission that you may go with our baggage train."

"'T will be a benefit indeed, if you can do that," exclaimed
Mrs. Meredith.

"Then I'll not tarry now, but be off about it at once, for
there was a rumour at brigade headquarters that three regiments
had been ordered across the river this afternoon, and that it
meant a quick movement." He picked up his hat as if to go,
then paused, and haltingly continued, "I hope, Ja--Ja--
Janice, that you've come ter--to like--not to be so set
against what I wants so much. It 's nigh a year since I seen--
saw you last, but it 's only made me love you the better."

The girl, with a look of real contrition, answered, "Oh, Mr.
Hennion, do not force--'T would be wrong to us both if I
deceived you."

"You can't love me?"

"I--oh, I believe I am a giddy, perverse female, for I seem
able to care for no man."

"The world I'd give ter win you, Janice; but I'll not tease
you now, the more that I can be doing you a service, and that 's
joy enough."

Philemon went toward the door; but ere he had reached it
Janice had overtaken him and seized his hand in both of hers.
"You deserve to love a better maid," she said huskily, "and I
wish you might; but perhaps 't will be some comfort to you to
know that dadda holds to his promise, and--and that I am
less wilful and more obedient, I hope, than once I was."