LXV PEACE IN SIGHT LXV PEACE IN SIGHT The occupants of Greenwood were still at breakfast that same morning, when word was brought to the commander-in-chief that Mr. Meredith desired speech with him. “Set another place, Billy, and bid him to come in,” ordered the hostess. “I’ll tell him, Lady Washington,” cried Janice, springing up, and after she had nearly throttled her father on the porch, he was led in. “My thanks to ye, Lady Washington,” said the squire, once the introduction was made, “but I have broken fast already, and have merely come to intercede with his Excellency on a sad matter.” In the fewest possible words he explained Philemon’s situation. “The lad assures me that he came but to serve me, and with never a thought of spying,” he ended. “I trust therefore that ye’ll not hold him as one, however suspiciously it may appear.” “The matter shall have careful consideration at my hands, Mr. Meredith,” replied Washington. “All the more, I trust, that ye are good enough to take an interest in my Jan, who is his promised bride.” Both Washington and his wife turned to the girl, and the former said,— “What, Miss Janice, is this the way thou hast kept thy promise to me to save thy smiles and blushes for some good Whig?” “Janice Meredith! you are the most ungrateful creature that ever I knew!” asserted Mrs. Washington, crossly. The girl only looked down into her lap, without an attempt at reply, but her father took up the cudgels. “Nay!” he denied, “many a favor we owe to Mr. Hennion, and now he has topped them all by signing deeds within the hour that gives to the girl both Greenwood and Boxely.” Janice looked up at her father. “’T is like him,” she said, chokingly. “Oh, General Washington, will you not be merciful to him?” “What is done must depend wholly on General Brereton's report, Miss Janice,” answered Washington, gravely. “Oh, not on him!” besought the girl. “He has reason to dislike Major Hennion, and he is capable of such bitter resentments.” “Hush, child, have you no eyes?” cried Mrs. Washington, and Janice faced about to find Brereton standing behind her. Not a feature of Jack’s face showed that he had heard her, as he saluted and began,— “The manoeuvre was executed last night, your Excellency, and I have the honour to hand you my report.” Washington took the document and began an instant reading of it, while the new arrival turned to give and receive a warm greeting with the hostess. “You’ll eat some breakfast, Jack,” she almost begged, with affectionate hospitality. “Thank you, Lady Washington, I—I—some other morning,” answered the officer. An awkward silence fell, yet which no one attempted to break, as the commander-in-chief slowly conned each page of the report. Once finished, he turned to the squire, and said, “I must ask, Mr. Meredith, that you go into the parlour, where later I will see you. I have certain questions to put to General Brereton.” Mr. Meredith gone, he asked,— “What was the paper you recovered from this Bagby?” “’T was a slip of tissue silk, which proves beyond doubt that he has been supplying the British with information, though unluckily there is nothing to show from whom in our army he received his information.” “’T is unfortunate, for we have long known that a leak existed in our very councils. However, ’t is something gained to have broken the channel of communication, and to have brought one traitor to the gallows. You will deliver the prisoners into the hands of the provost-marshal, sir, and be at headquarters at two this afternoon, prepared to give your testimony and papers to the court I shall order.” Brereton saluted, and made a movement of departure, but Washington spoke again,— “In this report, sir, you speak of having taken Lieutenant Colonel Hennion a prisoner of war. Under the circumstances in which he was captured ’t is a strange definition to give to his footing.” Jack’s bronzed face reddened slightly. “I so stated it, your Excellency, because I overheard the colonel tell his father that he had but stolen within our lines to do Mr. Meredith a service, and having myself read the letter that induced him to take the risk, I had every reason to believe that he spoke nothing but the truth. Yet I knew that no court-martial would take such a view, and so gave him that quality in my report, to save him from a fate he does not merit.” “Once, sir, you were guilty of a deceit,” said Washington, sternly, “and the present conditions are enough similar to make me suspicious. Are you certain that the fact that Miss Meredith’s happiness is concerned in this officer’s fate, has had nothing to do with the quality you have given to his status?” Despite the tan, General Brereton’s cheeks paled. “My God, your Excellency!” he burst out. “It has been one long struggle from the moment I found him my prisoner, until my report was safe in your hands not to—not to send him to the gallows, as I could by mere silence so easily have done. That I reported so promptly was due to the fact that I dared not delay, lest the temptation should become too strong.” Washington’s eye had never left Brereton during his outbreak, and at the end he said: “You will remain at headquarters, and report to me again, sir, in half an hour, after I have duly considered the facts.” Making no reply, Jack saluted, and passed out of the room. As he reached the doorway, Janice, who had risen, said: “I pray you, General Brereton, to forgive me the grave wrong I have just done you in both thought and speech.” Silently Jack bowed, and closed the door. “I should think thee ’d be well ashamed of thyself; miss,” declared Mrs. Washington, fretfully. “I am, Lady Washington,” replied the girl, humbly, “but believe me, that wrong as I was in this instance, I am not so wholly to blame as I seem, for one example of General Brereton’s temper which he gave me, proves that he can carry his resentment to all lengths, and—” “And is it because the man has a temper that you have slighted his suit?” interrupted the matron, peevishly. “Child, child, don’t you know that every man that is worth his salt has a warm constitution? Why, the tales and warnings that were brought to me of the general’s choleric nature when he was wooing me were enough to fright any woman. And true they were, for once roused, his wrath is terrible. Yet to me he has ever been the kindest and most amiable of husbands.” Washington smiled, as he said, “Miss Janice will know who deserves the credit for that. But my wife is right. A man is not apt to vent his wrath on the woman he loves, unless she gives him extreme cause.” “Bitter cause we gave to General Brereton, I own, but— but I can never think that had he truly loved me he would have refused his aid in our extremity.” “Refused thee aid!” snapped Jack’s partisan. “Has he done anything but help thee in every way he could? Who was it brought thy poor mother off that dreadful ship? Who was it has teased General Lafayette with such unending favours for thee, that the marquis asked me what was the source of General Brereton’s interest in one Mr. Meredith? Who only last week wrote me a letter that would have melted a stone—anything, I believe, but thy heart—begging me to offer thee a home, that thou might’st escape the tavern discomfort and crowd? I declare, thy ingratitude nigh makes me regret my having wasted any liking upon thee.” “Oh, Lady Washington,” cried Janice, “not a one of these did I know of; and if you but knew what gladness it brings me to learn that, once he knew we had insulted him unwittingly, he forgave us, and put his resentment away.” “Then you’ll reward him as he deserves?” delightedly exclaimed the match-maker. “I am promised, Lady Washington,” replied the girl, gravely, “and were I not, I could never forget his once cruelty “What did he?” “I cannot bear to tell, now he has, by his kindness, endeavoured to atone for it.” “I make no doubt ’t is more of his masked generosity. Never will I believe that loving you as I know he does, he could be hard-hearted or cruel to you.” “’T was not—’t was worse than if his anger had fallen on me, Lady Washington. He refused to aid my father, and but for his Excellency’s untellable generosity and—” Washington, who had been rereading the report, looked up, and interrupted: “Did General Brereton tell you that it was my act, Miss Janice?” “No, your Excellency, ’t was from Governor Livingston that we learned of the debt we owed to you, for which no thanks can ever—” Once again Washington interrupted. “There are no thanks due to me, Miss Janice,” he said, “for, much as I may have wished to service you, my public duties made it unwise. Your gratitude is wholly due to Brereton.” “I do not understand—What do you mean?” exclaimed the girl. “He—’t was your letter, so the governor said—” “’T was my letter, but his act,” replied Washington; and in a few words explained. “General Brereton expected, and should have been court-martialled and shot for what he did,” he ended; “but he had served me faithfully, and so I refrained from making his misconduct public, and punished him no further than by demanding his resignation from my staff. You lost me a good friend and servant, Miss Janice, but now, with the war in effect ended, I scarce feel regret that his action, however blamable, spared you the loss of your father.” “Now, what do you say, miss?” inquired Mrs. Washington, triumphantly. All the reply Janice made was to let her head fall forward on the table, as she burst into tears. “There, there, my child!” cried the matron, putting her arms about and raising the girl, so that the down bent head might find a resting-place on her bosom. “I did not mean to pain thee.” “Oh, Lady Washington,” sobbed Janice, as she threw her arms about the dame’s neck, “I—I am so miserable, an— an—and so happy!” Ten minutes later, Janice, with pale cheeks, but determined air, sought her father in the parlour, and going on her knees at his feet, said,— “I have that to tell, dadda, which I fear will anger and pain you greatly.” Then in a few words she repeated to him what Washington had told her. “And why should that hurt me, lass? I own I treated the general somewhat scurvily, and that he has repaid it in different kind, but ’t will be no grief to apologise and thank him for what he did.” “’T was not that of which I am apprehensive, but when I wrote to General Brereton, and besought his aid, I promised that I would wed him if he would but save you, and—and, oh, dadda, please be not angry with me, but I—I feel I must fulfil my pledge, if he asks it of me.” “And how of your promise—and mine—to Phil?” “I came to you, ere seeking to see him, to explain—” The squire shook his head doubtingly. “I can’t lay blame on ye, Jan, since I owe my very life to what ye did. Yet ’t is bitter to me to break faith with Philemon.” “I feel as guilty, dadda, but I think he will be generous, and give us back our promise, when I tell him all the facts.” “And ’t is nigh as hard,” went on the father, “to think of letting ye wed General Brereton, though I do owe my life to him.” “Ah, dadda, you will not punish him for the wrong his parents did him?” “’T is not that, Jan, but because he is a rebel to—” The girl gave a little laugh, as if a weight were taken from her thoughts, and she flung her arms about her father’s neck and kissed him. “Why, dadda,” she cried, with the old roguishness, “how can he be a rebel, now that they’ve won?” The squire pulled a wry look. “Little I dreamed I’d ever break faith, or make friends of the enemies of my king, but the times are disloyal, and I suppose one must go with them. If ye can persuade Phil to release us, Jan, have your way.” Again his daughter kissed him, but this time tenderly, with all the archness gone. “Thank you, dadda, for yielding,” she said, “for ’t would have been horrible to me had you not.” The squire kissed her in return. “Better one rebel in the family than two,” he responded with a laugh, which suggested that whatever his compunctions, he knew at heart that the outcome was for the best, and was already reconciled to it. “Thou ’rt too good a lass, Jan, to make into more of a rebel than this same Brereton will no doubt make thee.” “He’ll make no rebel of me to my darling dadda, that I promise,” asserted Janice, joyfully. Mr. Meredith laughed still more heartily. “I’ll rest content if ye don’t declare independence of your old dad, and allegiance to him, within one month of marriage, Jan.” As he ended, came a knock on the door and an officer entered. “His Excellency directs me to say, Miss Meredith,” he announced, “that the provost-marshal has orders to bring Colonel Hennion to you, whenever you are ready to see him.” “I’ll see him now,” replied the girl. “Poor lad!” lamented the squire. “Oh, dadda, what can I say to him?” grieved Janice. “I know not, lass,” replied the father, as he hastened to leave the room. It was a hard interview the girl had with Colonel Hennion, but she went through with it bravely, telling all the circumstances. “’T is not merely that I owe him the fulfilment of the promise I made him before that to you was given, Phil,” Janice ended, “but though I thought my love for him was dead, the moment I heard of how he had risked life and station to spare me grief; I—I—” There she ceased speaking, but her eyes and cheeks told eloquently what her tongue refused to put in words. Philemon, with a sad face, took her hand. “I’ll not make it the harder for you by protests or appeals, Janice,” he said, “for, however it may pain me, I wish to spare you.” “Oh, don’t, please,” she sobbed. “If you—if you would only blame me.” “I can’t do that,” he replied simply. “And—and ’t is as well, perhaps. General Washington just sent me word that I am only to be treated as a prisoner of war, but even when I am exchanged I must henceforth be an exile, with only my sword to depend upon; so it would have been no life for you.” “Oh, Phil, you’ll take back Greenwood and Boxely, won’t—” “Only to have them taken by the state? Keep them, as I would have you, Janice, and if ever I am invalided, and the laws will let me, I’ll come back and ask you for Boxely, provided I can bear the thought of—of—of a life of rust. Till then God prosper you and good-by.” For some time after Philemon left the room the girl wept, but by degrees the sobs ended, and she became calmer. Yet, as the tears ceased, some other emotion replaced them, for thrice, as she sat musing, her cheeks flushed without apparent reason, several times her brows wrinkled, as if some question were puzzling her; and once she started forward impulsively, some action determined, only to sink back, as if lacking courage. Suddenly she sprang to her feet, and, apparently afraid to give herself time for consideration, she ran, rather than walked, into the garden. Here she picked a single blossom from a rose bush, and such sprays of honeysuckle as she could find, and made them into a bunch. Kissing the flowers as if they were the dearest thing in the world, she hurried out of the garden, and glanced about. Seeing a soldier on the road, she hailed him and asked him whither he was going. “Nowhere in pertickerler, miss.” “Dost know where General Brereton is to be found?” she asked boldly, though blushing none the less for some reason. “I just seen him down ter Colonel Dayton’s quarters.” “Wilt favour me by taking him these flowers?” Janice requested, holding them out with one hand, while her other tendered a Spanish milled dollar, her eyes dropped groundward, as if to hide something. “Calkerlate I might; and who’ll I say sent ’em?” “I—say nothing at all—but just give him the bunch.” “Don’t hardly worth seem carryin’,” said the soldier, glancing at the flowers with open contempt, “an’ sartin it ain’t worth no sich money ter take ’em.” Lest she would agree with him, however, he set off with celerity. “Like as not he’ll give me a reprimand fer troublin’ him with a gal’s nonsense,” he soliliquised, as he walked. “Swan ef I ain’t most tempted ter throw ’em in the ditch.” Fortunately he did not commit the breach of faith, though there were distinct qualities of shame and apology in his voice and manner, when he walked up to a group of officers sitting under a tree, and said to one of them,— “A gal gave me this, general, ter take ter you, an’ she would hev it, though I told her she’d no business ter be botherin’ yer with sich plumb foolishness.” The flowers were snatched rather than taken from his hand. “Where was she when she gave them to you?” demanded Brereton. “I seen her go back inter the garding over ter Headquarters House, sir.” The general, without a word of explanation or apology to his fellow officers, started away almost at a run. Halting suddenly after he had gone some fifty feet, he fumbled in his pocket, and pulling out three or four coins, he tossed back a gold piece to the man; then hastened away. “Waal!” ejaculated the soldier, as he stooped and picked it up. “A hard dollar from a gal was bad enough, but I did n’t expect ter see the general go clean crazy like that. A louis, as I’m a livin’ sinner! When Jack entered the hedge, one glance he took, and then strode to the garden seat. “I know you would not torture me with false hopes, yet I—I dare not believe the message I would give the world to read in these,” he said hoarsely. The girl put her hand gently on his arm. “They say, Jack,” she replied, her eyes upturned to his, “whatever you would wish they might.” On the words, her lover’s arms were about her. “Then they say that I am forgiven and—” “Oh, Jack,” cried Janice despairingly, “can you ever forgive me—“Can I ever atone—ever thank you for all—” “Hush, my sweet. Put the past, as I will, out of mind for ever.” “I will, I will—but, oh, Jack, I must tell you how I have suffered—how my heart nearly broke—so that you may know how happy I am!” “Oh, sweetheart,” cried Brereton, clasping her tightly. “Do you mean—can the flowers truly say that you really love me?” “They can, but never how much.” “Then tell me yourself.” “No words can.” “Ah, sweetheart, try,” besought Brereton. “Then stoop and let me whisper it,” said the girl, and obediently Jack bent his head. But what she had to tell was told by her lips upon his. It was Billy Lee who finally interrupted them. “You’ll ’scuse me, Gen’l an’ Missy Janice,” he called, apologetically, from the opening in the hedge, “but Lady Washington dun send me to ’splain dat if she delay de dinner any mo’ dat Gen’l Brereton suttinly be late at de cote-martial.” And as a second couple made a hurried if reluctant exodus from paradise, he continued, “I dun tender youse my bestest felicitations, sah. Golly! Won’t Missis Sukey and dat Blueskin dun be pleased.” “She will be when she and Peg are bought and safe back at Greenwood, Billy, as they soon will be,” predicted Brereton. In the dining room stood the commander-in-chief and Mrs. Washington, and as Jack and Janice entered it through one of the windows, the latter caught the girl in her arms, and kissed her warmly. “Oh, Lady Washington,” cried the maiden, ecstatically, “how can I ever thank you!” “That is my duty, Janice, not yours,” asserted Brereton, taking the matron’s hand and kissing it. Janice, her eyes starry with happiness, crossed to General Washington. “Oh, your Excellency,” she begged, her hand on his arm, “there is but one flaw in my gladness, and ’t is that for my sake he lost your trust and affection. Will you— oh, won’t you forgive him, as he has me, and let my joy be perfect?” Washington smiled indulgently into the winsome face, and turning to Brereton, held out his hand. “You have secured an able pleader,” he said, “and I cannot find it in my heart to give her nay at any such time. Indeed,” he added, as Jack eagerly took the proffered peace-offering, “’t is to be feared, my boy, that had she but made her prayer to me instead of you, I should have found it difficult not to be equally faithless to my duty.” Janice stooped and kissed the two hands as they clasped each other, then, as her father entered the room, she sped to him, and throwing her arms about his neck, kissed him as well. “Mr. Meredith,” said Jack, tendering his hand a little doubtfully, “a bondservant of yours ran off while yet there was four years of service due to you. He is ready now to fulfil the bond, nor will he complain if you enforce the legal penalty of double time.” “’T is lucky for me, general,” answered the squire, heartily, “that ye acknowledge my claim, for I take it that, my lass having sworn a new allegiance, I shall need a hold on you, if I am to retain any lien on her.” “Nay, Mr. Meredith,” said Washington, “you need not fear that the new tie will efface the old one. We have ended the mother country’s rule of us, but ’t is probable her children will never cease to feel affection for the one who gave them being; and so you will find it with Miss Janice.” THE END *** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK JANICE MEREDITH: A STORY OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION *** Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will be renamed. 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