THE SPY - A Tale of the Neutral Ground (Historical Novel). Джеймс Фенимор КуперЧитать онлайн книгу.
Chapter V
Through Solway sands, through Taross moss,
Blindfold, he knew the paths to cross:
By wily turns, by desperate bounds,
Had baffled Percy’s best bloodhounds.
In Eske, or Liddel, fords were none,
But he would ride them, one by one;
Alike to him was time or tide,
December’s snow or July’s pride;
Alike to him was tide or time,
Moonless midnight or matin prime.
—Walter Scott
All the members of the Wharton family laid their heads on their pillows that night, with a foreboding of some interruption to their ordinary quiet. Uneasiness kept the sisters from enjoying their usual repose, and they rose from their beds, on the following morning, unrefreshed, and almost without having closed their eyes.
On taking an eager and hasty survey of the valley from the windows of their room, nothing, however, but its usual serenity was to be seen. It was glittering with the opening brilliancy of one of those lovely, mild days, which occur about the time of the falling of the leaf; and which, by their frequency, class the American autumn with the most delightful seasons of other countries. We have no spring; vegetation seems to leap into existence, instead of creeping, as in the same latitudes of the Old World; but how gracefully it retires! September, October, even November and December, compose the season for enjoyment in the open air; they have their storms, but they are distinct, and not of long continuance, leaving a clear atmosphere and a cloudless sky.
As nothing could be seen likely to interrupt the enjoyments and harmony of such a day, the sisters descended to the parlor, with a returning confidence in their brother’s security, and their own happiness.
The family were early in assembling around the breakfast table; and Miss Peyton, with a little of that minute precision which creeps into the habits of single life, had pleasantly insisted that the absence of her nephew should in no manner interfere with the regular hours she had established; consequently, the party were already seated when the captain made his appearance; though the untasted coffee sufficiently proved that by none of his relatives was his absence disregarded.
“I think I did much better,” he cried, taking a chair between his sisters, and receiving their offered salutes, “to secure a good bed and such a plentiful breakfast, instead of trusting to the hospitality of that renowned corps, the Cowboys.”
“If you could sleep,” said Sarah, “you were more fortunate than Frances and myself; every murmur of the night air sounded to me like the approach of the rebel army.”
“Why,” said the captain, laughing, “I do acknowledge a little inquietude myself—but how was it with you?” turning to his younger and evidently favorite sister, and tapping her cheek. “Did you see banners in the clouds, and mistake Miss Peyton’s Aeolian harp for rebellious music?”
“Nay, Henry,” rejoined the maid, looking at him affectionately, “much as I love my own country, the approach of her troops just now would give me great pain.”
The brother made no reply; but returning the fondness expressed in her eye by a look of fraternal tenderness, he gently pressed her hand in silence; when Caesar, who had participated largely in the anxiety of the family, and who had risen with the dawn, and kept a vigilant watch on the surrounding objects, as he stood gazing from one of the windows, exclaimed with a face that approached to something like the hues of a white man,—
“Run—Massa Harry—run—if he love old Caesar, run—here come a rebel horse.”
“Run!” repeated the British officer, gathering himself up in military pride. “No, Mr. Caesar, running is not my trade.” While speaking, he walked deliberately to the window, where the family were already collected in the greatest consternation.
At the distance of more than a mile, about fifty dragoons were to be seen, winding down one of the lateral entrances of the valley. In advance, with an officer, was a man attired in the dress of a countryman, who pointed in the direction of the cottage. A small party now left the main body, and moved rapidly towards the object of their destination.
On reaching the road which led through the bottom of the valley, they turned their horses’ heads to the north.
The Whartons continued chained in breathless silence to the spot, watching their movements, when the party, having reached the dwelling of Birch, made a rapid circle around his grounds, and in an instant his house was surrounded by a dozen sentinels.
Two or three of the dragoons now dismounted and disappeared; in a few minutes, however, they returned to the yard, followed by Katy, from whose violent gesticulations, it was evident that matters of no trifling concern were on the carpet. A short communication with the loquacious housekeeper followed the arrival of the main body of the troop, and the advance party remounting, the whole moved towards the Locusts with great speed.
As yet none of the family had sufficient presence of mind to devise any means of security for Captain Wharton; but the danger now became too pressing to admit of longer delay, and various means of secreting him were hastily proposed; but they were all haughtily rejected by the young man, as unworthy of his character. It was too late to retreat to the woods in the rear of the cottage, for he would unavoidably be seen, and, followed by a troop of horse, as inevitably taken.
At length his sisters, with trembling hands, replaced his original disguise, the instruments of which had been carefully kept at hand by Caesar, in expectation of some sudden emergency.
This arrangement was hastily and imperfectly completed, as the dragoons entered the lawn and orchard of the Locusts, riding with the rapidity of the wind; and in their turn the Whartons were surrounded.
Nothing remained now, but to meet the impending examination with as much indifference as the family could assume. The leader of the horse dismounted, and, followed by a couple of his men, he approached the outer door of the building, which was slowly and reluctantly opened for his admission by Caesar. The heavy tread of the trooper, as he followed the black to the door of the parlor, rang in the ears of the females as it approached nearer and nearer, and drove the blood from their faces to their hearts, with a chill that nearly annihilated feeling.
A man, whose colossal stature manifested the possession of vast strength, entered the room, and removing his cap, he saluted the family with a mildness his appearance did not indicate as belonging to his nature. His dark hair hung around his brow in profusion, though stained with powder which was worn at that day, and his face was nearly hid in the whiskers by which it was disfigured. Still, the expression of his eye, though piercing, was not bad, and his voice, though deep and powerful, was far from unpleasant. Frances ventured to throw a timid glance at his figure as he entered, and saw at once the man from whose scrutiny Harvey Birch had warned them there was so much to be apprehended.
“You have no cause for alarm, ladies,” said the officer, pausing a moment, and contemplating the pale faces around him. “My business will be confined to a few questions, which, if freely answered, will instantly remove us from your dwelling.”
“And what may they be, sir?” stammered Mr. Wharton, rising from his chair and waiting anxiously for the reply.
“Has there been a strange gentleman staying with you during the storm?” continued the dragoon, speaking with interest, and in some degree sharing in the evident anxiety of the father.
“This gentleman—here—favored us with his company during the rain, and has not yet departed.”
“This gentleman!” repeated the other, turning to Captain Wharton, and contemplating his figure for a moment until the anxiety of his countenance gave place to a lurking smile. He approached the youth with