Books: Janice Meredith

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"No, no! Let him hold out a few days longer. Clinton
will relieve us yet. He must n't give up. God! Meredith,
they'll hang me! He must n't surrender. I can't die just as
life is worth something. No, no! I can't die now. I'm
rich. Ninety thousand pounds I've made. To be caught
like a rat! He must n't surrender the post." And muttering
to himself, the miserable man shambled away, to repeat the
same hopes and expostulations to the next one he found.

"He had another fit last night," remarked the squire; "and
no one has seen him eat or sleep in four days, nor can he be
persuaded to either, but goes wandering unceasingly about the
town, quite unminding of shot and shell. Ho! what 's here?"
he ended, pointing up the street.

Three officers were coming towards them, arm in arm, the
two outsiders in red coats, and the middle one in a blue
one, with buff facings. Occasionally as they advanced, he
in the blue uniform swerved or stumbled slightly, as if he
might be wounded or drunk. But one look at his face was
sufficient to show the cause, for across his eyes was tied a
broad white band.

"Oh, dadda," murmured Janice, suddenly paling, "'t is
Colonel Brereton they have captured!"

"Nonsense, Jan! 't is impossible to know any man, so covered."

The girl attempted no reassertion, and as the three officers
marched up to the headquarters, the two hastily rose from
the steps.

"Ha!" exclaimed one of the British officers. "Here
stands Miss Meredith now, Colonel Brereton, as if to end your
doubting of my assurances of her being alive."

The blindfolded man, with a quick motion, withdrew the
hand passed through the arm of his guide and raised it
impulsively to the bandage.

"Hold," warningly said the British officer, as he caught the
hand. "Small wonder the handkerchief becomes intolerable,
with her to look at, but stay on it must till you are within
doors."

Jack's hand clutched the officer's arm. "God! man, you
are not deceiving me?"

"Speak up, Miss Meredith, and convince the sceptic
that General O'Hara, though Irish, is yet a truth-teller on
occasion."

"Oh, Colonel Brereton," said Janice, "I have just left Sir
Frederick, who is at the point of death, and he gave me a
message of farewell to you. Can you not go to him for a
moment? 'T would be everything to him."

Jack hesitated. "My mission is so important--General
O'Hara, wilt deliver this letter with a proper explanation to
his Lordship, while I see this friend?"

"Certainly. If Miss Meredith will guide you and Lord
Chewton to where he lies, I'll see that Lord Cornwallis gets
the letter."

In the briefest possible time Brereton stood beside Mobray.
Yet when the officer in charge of him untied the handkerchief
and stepped back out of hearing, Jack's eyes did not seek his
friend, but turned instead to the face of the girl standing beside
him. For a moment they lingered in a gaze so steadfast,
so devouring, that, try as she would not to look at him, Janice's
eyes were drawn to his, despite herself. With a long breath,
as if relieved of some dread, Jack finally turned away and
knelt beside his friend. "Fred, old comrade," he said, as he
took his hand.

"Charlie!" gasped Mobray, weakly, as his eyes opened.
"Is 't really you, or am I wandering?"

"'T is I, Fred, come into town with a flag."

"You've beat old Britain, after all, have n't you?"

"No, dear lad," replied Jack, gently. "'T is the old spirit
of England that has conquered, as it ever will, when fighting
for its rights against those who would rob it of them."

"True. We forgot 't was our own whelps, grown strong, we
sought to subjugate. And you had the better man to lead
you, Jack."

"Ay, and so we ever shall, so long as Britain makes men
generals because they are king's bastards."

"Nay, Charlie, don't let the sore rankle through life. 'T is
not from whence you came that counts; 't is what you are.
I'd take your shame of birth, if I could rid myself of mine.
Fortune, position, and opportunity I've wasted, while you have
won rank and glory."

"And now have not one thing to make life worth the while."

"Don't say it, Charlie. There's something for you to live
for still. Put your hand into my shirt--yes--to the left--
now you have it."

Brereton drew forth a miniature set with brilliants; and as
his eyes lit upon it, he gave an exclamation of surprise.

"'T is the one thing I concealed from my creditors,"
moaned Sir Frederick, "and now I leave it to you. Watch
over and care for her for the sake of your love and of mine,
Charlie."

Brereton leaned down and kissed Mobray on the cheek, as
he whispered, "I will."

"Is--is Miss Meredith here, Charlie?" asked the dying
baronet.

"Yes, Sir Frederick," replied Janice, with a choke.

"I--I--I fear I am a ghastly object," he went on, "but
could you bring yourself--Am I too horrible for one kiss of
farewell from you? Charlie will not grudge it to me."

The girl knelt beside Brereton, and stooping tenderly kissed
the dying man on the same spot that Jack had kissed.
Mobray's left hand feebly took hers, and, consciously or unconsciously,
brought the one which still held Jack's to it.
Holding the two hands within his own so that they touched,
he said chokingly:--

"Heaven bless you, and try to forgive him. Good-by both.
I have served my term, and at last am released from the
bigger jail." A little shudder, a twitch, and he was dead.

For a minute the two remained kneeling, then Brereton
said sadly:--

"He was the only friend left me in the world, and I
know not why he is taken and I am left." He withdrew his
hand from contact with the girl's, and rose. "I cannot stay,
for my mission is not to be slighted, but I will speak to
O'Hara, and see that he gets a funeral befitting his rank."
Brereton squared his shoulders and raised his voice, to say:
"Lord Chewton, I am--"

With a quick motion, the girl rose to her feet and said: "I
have no right to detain you, Colonel Brereton, but--but I
want you to know that neither dadda nor I knew the truth concerning
Mrs. Loring when we said what we did on that fatal
night. We both thought--thought--Your confession to
me that once you loved her, and her looking too young to be
your mother, led me into a misconception."

"Then you forgive me?" he cried eagerly.

"For the words you spoke then I do not even blame you,
sir. But what was, can never be again."

"Ay," said the officer, bitterly. "You need not say it. You
cannot scorn me more than I scorn myself."

Not giving her time to reply, he crossed to where the
officer with the bandage stood waiting him, and once again was
blindfolded, and led to headquarters.

"This way," directed General O'Hara, leading him into a
room where stood Cornwallis.

"Are you familiar, sir, with the contents of General Washington's
letter?" asked the earl.

"No, my Lord; I was its bearer only because I begged the
Marquis de Lafayette to secure me the service."

"He grants a suspension of hostilities for two hours from
the delivery of this, for me to put my proposals in writing.
Did he say aught to you, sir, of the terms he would grant?"

"I am no longer on General Washington's staff" answered
Brereton, "so I know not his expectations."

"From all I hear of him," said the general, "he is not a
man to use a triumph ungenerously. He fought bravely under
the British standards, and surely will not now seek to bring
unnecessary shame on them." Seating himself at the table, he
wrote a few lines, which he folded and sealed. "Will you not,
use your influence with him to grant us the customary
honours, and spare the officers from the disgrace of giving up
their side arms?"

"I no longer possess influence with or the confidence of
his Excellency," replied Brereton, gravely; "but he is a generous
man, and I predict will not push his advantage merely
for your humiliation."

"Will he not forbear making our surrender a spectacle?"

"If the talk of the camp be of value, my Lord, 't is said
you are to be granted the exact terms you allowed to General
Lincoln at Savannah; and you yourself cannot but acknowledge
the justice of such treatment."

"'T was not I who dictated the terms of that surrender."

"Your observation, my Lord, forces the reply that 't is a
nation, not an individual, we are fighting."

The proud face of the British general worked for a moment
in the intensity of his emotion. "We have no right to complain
that we receive measure for measure," he said; "and yet
sir, though the lex talionis may be justified, it makes it none
the less bitter."

Colonel Brereton took the letter, his eyes were blindfolded
again, and he was led back beyond the lines.

With the expiration of the two hours, the firing was not
resumed; and all that day and the next flags were passing
and repassing between the lines, with the result that on the
afternoon of the latter, commissioners met at the Moore
house and drew up the terms of capitulation, which were
signed that evening.

At twelve o'clock on the 19th, the English colours were
struck on the redoubts, and the American were hoisted in their
stead. Two hours later the armies of the allies took up
position opposite each other on the level ground outside
the town, and the British troops, with shouldered arms,
cased colours, and bands playing, as stipulated, an English air,
"The World Turned Upside Down," came marching out of
their lines. As they advanced, Washington turned to an
officer behind him and ordered, "Let the word be passed
that the troops are not to cheer. They have fought too well
for us to triumph over them." In consequence not a sound
came from the American ranks as the British regiments
marched up and with tears in many a brave man's eyes
grounded their arms and colours. But the officers, through
Washington's generosity, were allowed to retain their swords,
sparing Cornwallis the mortification of having to be present
in person; and it was General O'Hara who spoke the formal
words of surrender, and who led the disarmed and flagless
regiments back into the town, once the formalities had been
completed. By nightfall twenty-four standards and over eight
thousand prisoners were in the possession of the allied forces.

But one had escaped them, for in a cellar, hidden behind a
heap of refuse and boxes, his body already stripped of its
clothes by pilfering negroes, his face horribly distorted, and
with froth yet on his lips, lay the commissary, dead.

And at the very moment the next day that two companies,
one of British Fusileers, and one of New Jersey Continentals,
were firing a volley over a new-made grave, in which, wrapped
in the flag of his country, and buried with every military
honor, had been deposited the body of him who had been
Sir Frederick Mobray, a fatigue party were rolling into a trench,
and carelessly covering with earth from the battered redoubts,
along with the bodies of negroes and horses, and of barrels of
spoiled pork and beef, the naked corpse of him who had been
John Ombrey, Baron Clowes.

LXIII
ON BRUNSWICK GREEN

On a pleasant June afternoon in the year 1782, the
loungers about the Continental Tavern in the village
of Brunswick were discussing the recent proclamations
of the governor and commander-in-chief forbidding
illicit trading with New York, both of which called
forth general condemnation, well voiced by Bagby, when he
remarked:--

"A man with half an eye can see what they are working
for, and that their objections to our supplying the Yorkers is
only a blind. What they really wants is that we patriots, who
don't spend our days idling about in camp all winter at Rocky-Hill
and now at Middle-Brook, doing nothing except eat the
people's food, and spend the people's money, but who earn a
living by hard work, sha' n't have no market but the continental
commissaries, and so will have to take whatever they
allow to offer us for our crops."

"'T aint the proclamations ez duz the rale injoory,"
asserted Squire Hennion; "fer printed orders duz n't hurt
nobody, but when the gin'ral sends a hull brigade of sogers
ter pervent us sellin' our craps then I consarned ef it aint
tyranny ez every freeman is baound ter resist, jest ez we did
in '65 an' '74."

Bagby, with a sour look at Hennion, said: "That 's one of
the biggest grievances, but not the way some pretended friends
of the people would have us think. What do your fellows say
to officers having been fixed, so that pickets are only put
where they'll stop us from sending boats to New York, while
there 's one right here is allowed to send cargoes just when he
likes?"

"Does yer mean that, Joe?" demanded a farmer.

"That I does," asserted Bagby, looking meaningly at
Hennion. "I was told as a chance was given to the army to
catch the man deepest in the business--and in worse--red
handed. But what 's done? Instead of laying a trap, and
catching him, they don't stir a finger, but wait ten months
and then sends the very officer who did n't do nothing to put
a stop to it. For weeks that high cock-a-lorum Brereton 's
been smelling about this town, and lining the river at night
with his pickets, when all the time he could have come here
any afternoon, and arrested the traitor."

"Thet 'eres lucky fer yer," snarled Hennion viciously.
"yer ain't the only one ez kin tell tales, I warns yer."

"I have n't done no bribing, and it was n't me as the information
was lodged against," retorted Joe, rancourously.

"You can't mean as General Brereton 's winking at the trade,
when scarce a boat 's got out of the river since his brigade
camped there," demanded one of the loungers, indicating
with his thumb Brunswick Green, whitened by rows of tents.

"I mean as Brereton could lay hands any time he pleased
on one traitor, and why he has n't done so is what I want to
know. What 's more, I'd like to know, why Washington
does n't take any notice of the charges that I've been told
was preferred against Brereton nigh six months ago for this
very matter. I tell you, fellows, that money 's being used, and
that some of those who hold themselves highest, is taking it."

"Don't seem like his Excellency 'ud do anythin' ez sneaky
ez that," observed the publican, glancing upwards with pride
at his signboard, now restored to its former position. "Folks
says he's a 'nation fine man."

I'm just sick of all this getting on the knees to a man,"
grumbled Joseph, "just because he went and captivated
Cornwallis. Washington is n't a bit better than some of us
right here and it won't be long before you'll find it out."

"How do you make that, Joe?"

"Is n't he trying to bully Congress into paying the army,
just as if he was king, as I suppose he hopes to be some day.
You wait till he gets his way, and I guess the tax collectors
will make the people sing a different tune about him. If
I'm elected to the Assembly this spring, I calculate to make
some ears buzz and tingle a bit, once the legislature meets.
I'll teach some of these swaggering military chaps--who
were n't nothing but bond-servants once yet who some of you
fellows is fools enough now to talk of sending to Congress--
that this is a nation of freemen, and that now that the British
is licked, we don't have no more use for them, and--"

"Waal, I declare, if thet don't favour Squire Meredith, an'
his darter," interjected a farmer, suddenly, pointing with his
pipe to where an army waggon was approaching on the
Princeton post-road.

"Swan, ef yer ain't right," cried Hennion. "I did hope we
wuz quit of them fer good an' all."

"Wonder what the gal 's in black fer?" observed a lounger.

"My nigger cook Sukey," said the landlord, "told me that
Gin'ral Brereton told her the ole lady wuz mortal sick o' the
small-pox an' that when he went aboard the pest-ship, she
wuz so weak it did n't seem like she could be moved, but he
an' the doctor got her safe ashore, an' when he last hearn,
'bout the first o' the year, she wuz gainin'."

The publican rose and went forward as the van stopped
in front of his door. "Glad tew see yer, squire," he said,
"an' yer, too, Miss Janice. Seems most like ole times.
Hope nuthin 's wrong with Miss Meredith?"

The squire slowly and heavily got down from the box seat.
"We have her body in the waggon," he said wearily and sadly.

"I vum, but that 's too bad!" exclaimed the landlord, and,
for want of words of comfort, he hesitatingly held out his
hand, but recollecting himself, he was drawing it back, when
Mr. Meredith, forgetful of rank, caught and squeezed it.

"She never really rallied," went on the squire, with tears in
his eyes, "and though she lived on through the winter, she
did n't have the strength to mend. She died three weeks
ago, and we have come back here to bury her."

"Naow yer an' Miss Janice come right intew my place, an
I'll fix yer both ez comfortable ez I kin," invited the publican,
warmly, once again forgetting himself so far as to pat Mr.
Meredith on the back. Then as he helped Janice down, he
shouted, "Abram, mix a noggin o' sling, from the bestest, an' tell
Sukey that she's wanted right off, no matter what she's doin'."

The last direction was needless, for the slave, in some way
informed of the arrival, had Janice in her arms ere the landlord
well completed his speech, and was carrying more than
leading her into the hotel and up the stairs to the room reserved
for people of quality only, where she lifted her on to
the bed and with her arms still clasped about the girl wept
over her, half in misery, and half in an almost savage joy,
while repeating again and again, "Oh, my missy, my Missy
Janice, my young missy, my pooty young missy, come back
to ole Sukey."

"Oh, Sukey," sobbed Janice, "but mommy is dead."

"Doan young missy pine," begged the slave. "De Lord
he know best, an' he bring my chile, dat I dun take care ob
from de day he dun gib her, back to ole black Sukey."

Meantime, the squire, after a question as to where the
coffin could be temporarily placed, and a direction to the
driver of the wagon, asked the publican: "We had word in
Virginia that Greenwood was sold by the state; is 't so?"

"Yes, squire, it wuz auctioned last August an' wuz bought
by ole squire Hennion, an' jes naow his Excellency 's usin' it
fer headquarters, till the army moves north'ard."

A sadder look came on Mr. Meredith's face. "That 's worse
news yet," he grieved, with a shake of his head; "but perhaps
he'll not carry his hatred into this." He walked over
to where the all-attentive loungers were sitting, and going up
to Hennion, said humbly: "We were once friends, Hennion,
and I trust that such ill feeling as ye bear for me will not lead
ye to refuse a request I have to make."

"An' what 'ere is thet?" inquired Hennion, suspiciously.

"'T was Matilda's--'t was my wife's dying prayer that we
should bring her back here, and lay her beside her four babies,
and to let her die happy I gave her my word it should be
done. Ye'll not refuse me leave, I'm sure, man, to bury her
in the private plot at Greenwood."

"Yer need n't expect ter fool me by no sich a story. I
ain't goin' ter let yer weaken my title by no sich a trick!"

"For shame!" cried Joseph, and a number of others
echoed his words.

"Yelp away," snarled Hennion, rising; "If't 't wuz yer
bull ez wuz ter be gored yer 'd whine t' other side of yer
teeth." With which remark he shuffled away.

Not stopping to listen to the expressions of sympathy and
disgust that the idlers began upon, Mr. Meredith entered the
public of the tavern.

"Here yer be, squire, jus' mixed from my very bestest
liquor, an' it'll set yer right up," declared the landlord, offering
him a pewter pot.

The squire made a motion of dissent, but seeing the publican's
look of disappointment, he took the cup and drained it.
"Ye've not lost your skill, Simon," he remarked kindly, as
he returned it. "Canst tell me if 't is possible for me to get
a letter into New York quickly?"

"'T aint ez easy ez it wuz afore the soldiers come here
fer they pervent the secret trade, but if yer apply tew Gin'ral
Brereton, ez lodges with the paason, I calkerlate he kin send
it in with a flag if he hez a mind tew"

Mr. Meredith shook his head in discouragement. "It
seems as if all I ask must be begged of enemies. However,
't is small grief, after what has passed. Wilt give me pen and
ink, man?"

While he was writing, Bagby came into the public, and
interrupted him.

"I did n't offer to shake hands, squire," he said, "seeing
as you were in trouble, and took up with other things, but I'm
glad to see you and Miss Janice back, and there 's my hand to
prove it."

Mr. Meredith laid down his pen, and took the proffered
handshake. "Thank ye, Mr. Bagby," he said, meekly.

"I would n't stop what you're at now," went on Joseph, sitting
down at the table, "if I had n't something in my mind
as I think 'll interest you big, and may make some things
easier that you want."

"What's that?"

"If I put you on to this, I guess you'll be so grateful that
I don't need to make no terms beforehand. You 'd give me
about what I asked, would n't you, if I can get you Greenwood
back again?"

"How could ye e'er do that?"

"It 's this way. That general act was n't drawn very careful,
and when old Hennion bid the place in, I looked it over
sharp, and I concluded there was a fighting chance to break
the sale. You see, the act declares certain persons traitors,
and that their property is forfeited to the state. Now what we
must do is to make out that Greenwood was Mrs. Meredith's
and that as she was n't named in the act, of course the sale
was n't valid and is void."

The squire wagged his head despondingly. "By the colony
law it became mine the moment she inherited it."

"You see if I can't make a case of it," urged Bagby. "I've
come out a great hand at tieing the facts up in such a snarl as
no judge or jury can get them straight again, and this time
the jury will be with us before we begin. You see old
Hennion's been putting the screws on his tenants tight as he
can twist them, and glad enough they 'd be if they could only
have you again, 'stead of him. The whole country's so down
on him that I've been planning to prevent his being re-elected
to Assembly this spring. Now, you know, as well as I, what
I would like, and I guess you won't be so set against it now,
for I've got nigh to twenty thousand pounds specie, laid out
in all sorts of ventures, so even if we don't get Greenwood,
I'll be all the better match, but we won't say nothing about
all that till we've seen what comes."

"Nay, Mr. Bagby, I'll not gain your aid by a deceitful
silence. I owe ye an apology for the way I treated your
overture before, but I must tell you that both my own, and
my girl's word is given to Major Hennion, and so--"

"But he's been attainted, an' 'll never be able to come back
here.

"Aye, and we too expect to accept exile with him. When
we left Williamsburg, we planned once we had buried our
dead, to go to New York, where the two will marry, and then
I shall follow them to wherever his regiment is ordered."

"But you don't need to go, now that General Brereton 's
persuaded the governor to pardon you," protested Joseph,
"and you--"

"Was it Brereton did that?" demanded Mr. Meredith.

"Between you and me, squire, I'd been at Livingston ever
since you was sent away, and had about won him over, when
Brereton got back from Virginia and went to see him."

"I'm glad to hear he's willing to do me a kindness, for
not once at Yorktown did he come nigh us, and so I feared
me he would refuse a favour I must shortly ask of him."

"What 's that?"

"I'm writing to Phil Hennion, begging him to intercede
with his father and get me permission to bury my wife at
Greenwood."

"You would n't need to do no asking if you 'd only let me
get the property back."

"You 're right, man, and if it does nothing more, we'll
perhaps frighten him into yielding us that much."

"'T will take time, you understand, squire, and it can't be
done if you go to York or out of the country."

"We'll stay here as long as there 's nothing better to do."

"That's the talk. And don't you wherrit about your
lodgings, if you 're short of cash. I'll fix it with Si, and chance
my getting paid somehow. I'll see him right off, and fix it
so you and Miss Janice has the best there is." He started
to go; then asked, "I hope--there is n't any danger--I
suppose--she'll keep, eh, squire?"

The husband winced. "Yes," he replied huskily. "The
Marquis de Lafayette, quite unasked, ordered the commissaries
to give us all we needed of a pipe of rum."

"That was mighty generous," said Bagby, "for I suppose
he had to pay for it. Even a major-general, I take it, can't
draw no such a quantity gratis."

"I writ him, asking that I might know the cost, but he
answered that 't was nothing. 'T is impossible to say what we
owe to him. 'T was he, so Doctor Craik told me, who asked
him to bring Mrs. Meredith off the pest-ship, and 't was he
who furnished us with the army-van in which we've journeyed
from Virginia. Had we been kinsmen, he could not have
been kinder."

"Now that only shows how a man tries to take credit for
what he has n't had a finger in. Brereton, who, since he was
made a general and got so thick with the governor, has put
on airs enough to kill a cat, told your Sukey, as now is cook
here, that 't was he went aboard the pest-ship with the doctor,
and brought her off."