The Little Red Foot Part 44

The letter he handed me was from Colonel Dayton. It commended me, enjoined secrecy, approved my Oneidas and my Saguenay, but warned me to remain discreetly silent concerning these red auxiliaries, because General Schuyler did not approve our employing savages.

Further, he explained, several full companies of Rangers had now been raised and were properly officered and distributed for employment.

Therefore, though I was to retain my commission, he preferred that I command my present force as a scout, and not attempt to recruit a Ranger company.

"For," said he, "we have great need of such a scout under an officer who, like yourself, has been Brent-Meester in these forests."

However, the letter went on to say, I was ordered to remain on the Sacandaga trail with my scout of ten until relieved, and in the meanwhile a waggon with pay, provisions, and suitable clothing for my men, and additional presents for my Indians, was already on its way.

I read the letter very carefully, then took my tinder-box and struck fire with flint and steel, blowing the moss to a glow. To this I touched the edge of my letter, and breathed on the coal till the paper flamed, crinkled, fell in black flakes, and was destroyed.

For a few moments I stood there, considering, then dismissed the express; but still stood a-thinking.

And it seemed to me that there was indecision in my commander's letter, where positive and virile authority should have breathed action from every line.

I know, now, that Colonel Dayton proved to be a most excellent officer of Engineers, later in our great war for liberty. But I think now, and thought then, that he lacked that energy and genius which meets with vigour such a situation as was ours in Tryon County.... G.o.d knows to what sublime heights Willett soared in the instant agony of black days to come!... And comparisons are odious, they say.... So Colonel Dayton occupied Johnstown, garrisoned Summer House Point and Fish House, and was greatly embarra.s.sed what to do with his prisoner, Lady Johnson.... A fine, brave, loyal officer--who made us very good forts.

But, oh, for the dead of Tryon!--and the Valley in ashes from end to end; and the whole sky afire!--Lord! Lord!--what sights I have lived to see, and seeing, lived to tell!

My memories outstrip my quill.

So, when I came out of my revery, I turned and walked back slowly to Penelope, who lifted her eyes in silence, clasping her fair hands over idle needles.

"I go back tonight," said I.

"To the forest?"

"To the trail by the Drowned Lands."

"Will you come soon again?"

"Do you wish it?"

"Why, yes, John Drogue," she said; and I saw the smile glimmer ere it dawned.

And now comes my Lady Johnson and her Abagail for a dish of tea on the veranda, where a rustic table was soon spread by Colas, very fine in his scarlet waistcoat and a new scratch-wig.

Now, to tea, comes sauntering our precious plague of suitors, one by one, and two by two, from the camp on the mainland. And all around they sit them down--with ceremony, it's true, but their manners found no favour with me either. And I thought of Ulysses, and of the bow that none save he could bend.

Well, there was ceremony, as I say, and some subdued gaiety, not too marked, in deference to Lady Johnson's political condition.

There was tea, which our officers and I forbore to taste, making a civil jest of refusal. But there was an eggnog for us, and a cooled punch, and a syllabub and cakes.

Toward sundown a young officer brought his fiddle from camp and played prettily enough.

Others sang in acceptable harmony a catch or two, and a romantic piece for concerted voices, which I secretly thought silly, yet it pleased Lady Johnson.

Then, at Claudia's request, Penelope sang a French song made in olden days. And I thought it a little sad, but very sweet to hear there in the gathering dusk.

Other officers came up in the growing darkness, paid their respects, tasted the punch. Candles glimmered in the Summer House. Shadowy forms arrived and departed or wandered over the gra.s.sy slope along the water.

I missed Claudia. Later, I saw Penelope rise and give her hand to a man who came stalking up in a watch cloak; and presently they strolled away over the lawn, with her arm resting on his.

Major Westfall and Lady Johnson were conversing gravely on the north porch. Others, dimly visible, chatted around me or moved with sudden clank of scabbard and spur.

Penelope did not come back. At first I waited calmly enough, then with increasing impatience.

Where the devil had she gone with her Captain Spatter-dash? Claudia I presently discovered with men a-plenty around her; but Penelope was not visible. This troubled me.

So I went down to the orchard, carelessly sauntering, and not as though in search of anybody. And so encountered Penelope.

She and her young man in the watch-cloak pa.s.sed me, moving slowly under the trees. He wore black spatter-dashes. And, as we saluted, it came to me that this was one of the officers from the Canajoharie Regiment; but in the starlight I knew him no better than I had by day.

"Strange," thought I, "that young Spatter-dashes seems so familiar to my eyes, yet I can not think who he may be."

Then, looking after him, I saw his comrade walking toward me from the well, and with him was Colas, with a lantern, which s.h.i.+ned dimly on both their faces.

And, suddenly: "Why, sir!" I blurted out in astonishment, "are you not Captain Hare?"

"No, sir," said he, "my name is Sims, and I am captain in the Canajoharie militia." And he bowed civilly and walked on, Colas following with the lantern, leaving me there perplexed and still standing with lifted cap in hand.

I put it on, pondered for a s.p.a.ce, striving to rack my memory, for that man's features monstrously resembled Lieutenant Hare's, as I saw him at supper that last night at Johnson Hall, when he came there with Hiokatoo and Stevie Watts, and that Captain Moucher, whom I knew a little and trusted less, for all his mealy flatteries.

Well, then, I had been mistaken. It was merely a slight resemblance, if it were even that. I had not thought of Hare since that evening, and when I saw this man by lantern light, as I had seen him by candles, why, I thought he seemed like Hare.... That was all.... That certainly was all there could be to it.

Near to the lilacs, where candle light fell from the south window of the little lodge, I stumbled once again upon Penelope. And she was in Spatter-dash's arms!

For a moment I stood frozen. Then a cold rage possessed me, and G.o.d knows what a fool I had played, but suddenly a far whistle sounded from the orchard; and young Spatter-dash kisses her and starts a-running through the trees.

He had not noticed me, nor discovered my presence at all; but Penelope, in his arms, had espied me over his shoulder; and I thought she seemed not only flushed but frightened, whether by the fellow's rough ardour or my sudden apparition I could not guess.

Still cold with a rage for which there was no sensible warrant, I walked slowly to where she was standing and fumbling with her lace ap.r.o.n, which the callow fool had torn.

"I came to say good-bye," said I in even tones.

She extended her hand; I laid grim and icy lips to it; released it.

There was a silence. Then: "I did not wish him to kiss me," said she in an odd voice, yet steady enough.

"Your lips are your own."

"Yes.... They were yours, too, for an instant, Mr. Drogue."