Mary Devereux

“ He has been fastened there before, but," with a soft laugh, "scarce for a like purpose."
Dorothy clung to the pommel. "I'll not,—I'll not!" she declared. "You shall not dare do so wicked a thing, and Master Weeks will never dare listen to you."
"We'll see to that," he laughed, and lifted her from the saddle. Then, as she reached the ground, he kissed her, as he had that day in the wood.
"Be good to me, and true to yourself, my sweet little rebel," he whispered, "and fight no longer with truth and your own heart. Own that you love me, and know that I love you,—aye, better than my life." ”

“ Then she cried in terror, "Oh, Mary, you did not show it to Jack, nor tell him or my father of the matter?"
"No, my dear," Mary answered with an assuring smile. "I waited until you were well enough to tell me more, or else tell them yourself."
"Good Mary,—good, true sister." And Dorothy pressed her lips to the hand she clasped.
"But the matter has given me such a heartache, Dot, for I feared I might be doing wrong. Surely no one can love you more than your own father and brother. Why not tell them, as well as me, of—whatever it is?"
"I will, Mary," Dorothy said resolutely. ”

“ Dorothy was as impulsive and affectionate as of old, but to Mary's keen eyes there now seemed a new-born womanliness about her. She was sensible of the absence of that childish frankness and ingenuousness which had been so much a part of the girl's nature. She was now more like a woman, and one whose mind held a secret she herself tried to evade, as well as have others blind to its existence. ”

“ There came the sound of men's voices, low at first, but soon growing louder, and then almost menacing, as the outer door was sharply closed.
"And I say, sirrah,"—it was the voice of John Devereux—"that you cannot see her."
Dorothy sprang from her father's side and sped to the door, which she flung wide open, and stood, with widening eyes and pale cheeks, upon the threshold. A moment more, and Mary was alongside her; and then, his face filled with amazement and anger, Joseph Devereux followed them. ”

“ The young man leaned forward until his lips were close to the girl's ear; and his deep voice, now trembling as with suppressed feeling, sent each word to her with perfect distinctness.
"I hope, sweet Mistress Dorothy, I am a gentleman," he said. "As such I was born, and have been accounted. But"—and his voice sank to a tremulous softness—"take you anywhere, I will not, until we have seen good Master Weeks, for whose house we are now bound. And when we leave it, it will be as man and wife." ”

“ Her usually gentle voice sounded unnaturally hard.
"Oh, Mary," her friend cried, regardless of who might be within hearing, "how can you speak so harshly—and he such a handsome young gallant?"
"What is it to us, whether he be handsome or ill-favored?" was Mary's sharp retort. "What interest have you in him?"
"I should be sorry if he were hurt." And Dorothy's tone was almost tender by comparison with that of her companion.
"Shame on you, Dot!" Mary said in a low voice, but quite fiercely. "How can you talk so, and he a hateful Britisher?" ”

“ This, thanks to the diversion afforded by her new surroundings, had begun to be a little dulled; for when one is young it is no easy matter for any sorrow, however heavy, to utterly crush out all the light and hope.
Then, too, it had seemed to Dorothy a most marvellous thing to see Aunt Penine so softened and repentant. And this of itself served to increase the homesick longing the very sight of her had brought to the girl,—a craving for the happy days of the dear old home, when a united family gathered under its roof, with no war-clouds darkening their hearts. ”

“ It was evening when the party reached the headquarters at Cambridge.
A faint afterglow of the brilliant sunset still lingered, but the roadway leading to the entrance of the house was dusky with the shadows of coming night, which almost hid the great trees on either side.
The air about was filled with the faint hum of camp life. Occasionally a voice could be heard, or the neighing of a horse,—figures of men were discernible here and there, and a sentry was pacing before the steps of the mansion.
"Here we are, Dot," said her brother; and dismounting, he helped her from her horse. ”

“ Dorothy ceased her efforts to withdraw her hands—for he now held both of them—from his clasp, and stared up at him in affright.
"Who told you I did?" she gasped. "Who said so?"
The young man threw back his head and laughed exultingly.
"Aha,—and so it was really you, you sweet little rebel! I was almost certain of it, the morning I spoke to your father of the matter, and saw the look that came into your eyes."
"You are hateful!" she cried, her fear now giving place to anger. "Let me go, I say,—let go my hands at once!" Her eyes were filled with hot tears, and her cheeks were burning. ”

“ Her father smiled at this, and pinched Dorothy's cheek; then a sadness came to his face as he looked at her.
"To be a woman does not always mean the doing of over-much baking or housework," said Mary, with a meaning smile, her cheeks fresher and her blue eyes brighter, like the flowers, from the pure morning air.
Joseph Devereux nodded an assent. "If you and Mary," he said to Dorothy, "were to ride to Boston this day, who would there be to do what you are entrusted with the doing on? ”

“ The parting between father and son was full of solemnity, for each felt it to be the last time they would meet on earth.
"God bless and keep you, my dear boy," said Joseph Devereux, showing more of his natural vigor than for many weeks past, as he fixed his large eyes upon the handsome young face, pale, but filled with resolution and high purpose. "God bless and keep you in the struggle in which I know you will do your part unflinchingly. Never be guilty of aught in the future, as you have never in the past, to stain the good name you bear." ”

“ Long after Mary was sleeping, Dorothy was still lying awake listening for her brother's return. She knew she would hear him, for his room was just across the hall, opposite her own.
As she nestled among the lavender-scented pillows, visions would keep coming to her of the handsome face she had seen that morning, and again that very night. The purple-hued eyes, edged so thickly with swart curling lashes, seemed to be looking into her own, as when she held his wounded head pillowed against her knee, while his voice yet thrilled in her ears as had never any man's before. ”

“ Dorothy hesitated no longer, but, in the fewest possible words, unburdened her heart, while Mary listened in speechless amazement.
Her indignation and horror grew apace until the story was all told. Then she cried: "It was a cowardly, unmanly trick,—a traitor's deed! He is no gentleman, with all his fine pretence of manners."
"Ah—but he is." And Dorothy sighed softly, and in a way to have opened Mary's eyes, had she been less absorbed by the anger now controlling her. ”

“ I hate you because your coat is red,—red, like the ruby ring you forced on my finger whether I would or no. And even the ring did not want to stay, for it knew me better than you did. It was so big that you had to hold it on; and now I've put it away safe,—safe, where no one will ever see, ever know. But it is red, and red means cruelty; and that is what this war is to be."
The babbling died away in a moan; but before Jack or his wife could speak, Dorothy began again, now in a stronger voice than before.
"Moll said it must bring sorrow,—sorrow. ”

“ I cannot let you go in this way; for see, you are weeping. Surely this pretence of anger is unjust,—unjust to you and to me!"
Before she could speak, the voice went on, "Little rebel, sweet little rebel, will you not surrender to—a vanquished victor?" And with this, a kiss was pressed upon her lips.
At first Dorothy had been too startled to speak,—too frightened and dumb from the tumult his caressing voice had aroused within her. But the touch of his lips awakened her like a blow.
"How dare you?" she cried, struggling from his arms. "Oh, how I wish I had never seen you!" ”

“ It was as if a new self had been born, dominating the old self, and sending her thoughts far from where her body might be.
"She must be in love with some one, and 't is sure to be Hugh Knollys," said Mary to herself, with a glow of happiness, as the two went downstairs, Mistress Horton and a servant following them, both laden with packages to be stowed away in the Devereux equipage, whereon Leet sat rigidly upright, the darkness hiding his black face and its unusual grin. ”

“ Mary was one who always shrank from doing aught to cause discord; and so, albeit with a mind filled with anxiety, she decided to keep silence.
Dorothy's ailment proved to be an attack of brain fever, and it was many weeks before she recovered. And when she was pronounced well again, she went about the old house, such a pale-faced, listless shadow of her former self that her brother watched her with troubled eyes, while her father was well-nigh beside himself with anxiety. ”

“ No father could have spoken more tenderly to his child; and the words came to Dorothy as a benediction from him who had so recently passed away.
Washington now addressed himself to Captain Southorn.
"You have in this child a priceless treasure," he said. "God grant that you ne'er forget the fact, nor the debt you owe her."
"I never will—I never can, sir," the young man answered with unmistakable sincerity, as he came and took his wife by the hand. "Of that, sir, you may rest assured," he added, in a voice shaking with strong emotion.
Washington bent his head in approval. ”

“ No human skill could prolong the life of him who had been stricken down late in the afternoon, and now lay unconscious, breathing heavily, like a strong swimmer breasting heavy seas. And what sea beats so relentlessly as do the black waters of Death?
Dorothy had stolen for a moment to the window, scarcely able to endure to sit longer by the bed, listening to those gasping breaths that wrung her heart with the passionate sense of impotence to help, or even ease, the dying man. ”

“ Then, realizing that this was little short of murder, she shrank from such musings, shocked to find herself so wicked.
There came still another burden of sorrow when she imparted the whole truth to her husband.
He listened with a brooding face, only the unusual glitter in his eyes showing how it stirred him. Then, after a long silence, while he appeared to be turning the matter in his mind, he exclaimed, not angrily, but with nothing showing in his voice save bitter self-reproach: "Blind fool that I've been, seeking to keep my little sister a child in thought. ”

“ All the outside world lay flooded in the warm golden sunshine that blunted the cold edge of the wind rushing from the north, where sullen cloud-banks were piling up in a way to threaten a change of weather before night. The sea lay a floor of molten silver and burnished steel, and the crows called incessantly from the woods.
Dorothy chose to take a short cut across the fields to old Ruth's abode; and while skirting the ten-acre lot, she cast a furtive glance toward the large shed, as if expecting to see a scarlet coat in the doorway. ”

“ But the little town was lying brooding and peaceful this July afternoon. Its wooded hills to the west sent shadows across the grassy meadows and slopes, rising and falling to meet the sand-beaches, or ending in the headlands of granite that made sightly outlooks from which to scan the sea for threatening ships.
Under the pines that made shadows along the way, a horseman was going leisurely along the road leading to the Fountain Inn.
To his left lay level meadow lands, rising into hills as they neared the inn, the old Burial Hill—the town's God's Acre—being highest of all. ”

“ She heard a half-choked gasp from Dorothy's lips, and saw the look that came to Mary's face as her eyes turned like a flash toward the younger girl.
"Is it possible he can be known to ye?" she asked quickly.
"Yes,—I think we met him once," Mary answered falteringly. "That is, we met a young man of the same name. But he was not a captain—only a cornet of dragoons."
"Still, it is like to be the same man," the landlady said rather insistingly, as though hoping that such was the fact. ”

“ And he took her hands, holding them close, while he tried to look into her averted eyes.
"I—don't know," she said evasively. "These are such dreadful times that have come to us, that no one can tell what is like to happen. Oh," with a sudden impetuous burst, more suited to Dorothy than to her own calm self, "I wish there had never been such a nation as the English!"
When Joseph Devereux had done speaking, the young man turned his eyes from the pale face in which he seemed to have been searching for some hint or suggestion as to what he should now say. ”

“ The golden of the sun was turning to rose, when a clatter of hoofs and the sound of men's voices drew her eyes toward the courtyard below.
Resting her dimpled arms upon the rough stone of the window-ledge, she leaned over and smiled down into the upturned face of her twenty-two-year-old husband, whose dark eyes sought her casement ere he dismounted from his tired horse, which the esquire at its head had now little need to hold. He waved his hand to her, while a bright smile illumined his grave face, and she responded by blowing him a kiss from the tips of her taper fingers. ”