"O Fairy! Fairy! is not this grand?" Maid Sally stood in a little room, so neat, so prettily furnished, that it was to her like waking up and finding one of her pleasant dreams come true. A cot with a real feather bed was in one corner, a small chest of drawers with a mirror on it, a mirror in a square frame screwed into a little stand, so she could bring it forward or push it back, was at one side of the room; a small wooden rocking-chair stood by the window, and a pretty painted wash-stand, with bowl and pitcher, a soap-dish, and a saucer for brushes, was opposite the bed. Sally looked with pleasure on the simple yet convenient things that she never had had the use of before. Then she said: "I cannot tell you," said her Fairy. "Did you notice," asked Sally, "what slipped from Mistress Cory Ann's tongue? how she asked was I sure of being an American?" "I noticed, surely," said the Fairy, "but many a vain and useless thing will slip from the tongue of an angry woman. I think she meant but to taunt you." "Yet I wonder what she may know." "It would be wiser to stop wondering," returned her Fairy. And now it was not only a new home, but a new life that had come to the pretty maid. Goodwife Kendall did not favor having too much time spent in arranging the hair, dressing up, and such like vanities. Yet much it did please her to see the beautiful fluff and rich curl And a "changeable" silk of pink and gray, making an "ashes of roses" color, that had hung useless in the closet for a year, made so becoming a gown for the blooming maid that Goodwife Kendall feared lest the bright young head might be turned at sight of the fair vision flashed back from the little mirror into the clear, dark eyes. And Parson Kendall had some ado in striving to keep back from her ears sundry and divers compliments and sweet sayings that began to be tossed about, bearing on the growth and beauty of the Maid Sally Dukeen. As winter rolled away and spring came on, the threats and mutterings against the governor and king grew louder and ever louder, and spoken with less fear. Work was going on in the fields and on the plantations, but men met at the corner of the roads and at the stores, talking long and earnestly, and with stern faces and dark brows. One day at dinner,—always the noon meal in those days,—Parson Kendall said: "It is now reported that Sir Percival Grandison, after much thought, feels it his duty to side with the king, and not to aid the colonists. But he hath great todo in striving to keep down the fiery spirit of his young son. The lad thinketh himself old enough to have a mind of his own, as indeed he is, and he greatly desireth to have his name enrolled as a soldier, if fighting must be done. It is sad to have father and son divided at such serious times, and Sir Percival wishes not to deal harshly with his son. "And how old is he?" asked one of the sisters. "He is nineteen, not yet of age." "But if there should be fighting, think you not there would be many a stripling," asked Goodwife Kendall, "of even seventeen or eighteen, who would enter the ranks on our side?" "I have no doubt of it," answered the parson, "and it may be that very glad we shall be of the assistance of the younglings." No one noticed how rosy grew the face of Maid Sally, or how short became her breath as the talk went on. But long ere this had she made up her mind that, should war break out, her Dream Prince would want to be in the thick of the fight, and on the right side. The lad who stood at the edge of the lawn one night, and said, in firm, decided tones, that he meant to act as should a man, would never sit tamely down and let others struggle for the liberty he was to enjoy. No; Sally thought it was he who sat beside his sister Lucretia, but she was mistaken. "I will see if the seat still be there," she said to herself, as, entering the hedge, she saw in a moment that the great stones were just as they had been months before. Ah! but she had been there only a few moments when she blushed and tightly clasped her hands together at sound of a well-known voice, as quick footsteps came toward the arbor. "Now here," said the voice of the Prince, "we can talk without danger of being overheard. "You know, Reginald, I would not willingly do anything to disturb or to anger my sire, but "How can my father allow himself to be so mistaken? Or how can he fail to see that Governor Dunmore has insulted us, and treated us like children in taking away our gunpowder, leaving us as he did with no way of defending ourselves in case of an attack? "I reckon he found out his mistake when he was obliged to pay us for it, for he could not stand before the fury of the people when they found out what had been done." Poor Sally had felt a twinge that hurt when Lionel Grandison said, "Now here we can talk without danger of being overheard." The nicer part of her nature asked if she ought not at once to go away from the rocks. But she could hardly have done that without herself being overheard, and sooner than risk that, she made up her mind that this time she must stay, but that in the future she must sit no more between the wall and the hedge at Ingleside. "I have but an hour ago heard from Boston, and the town is red-hot over the unlawful, daring conduct of the soldiers, and the government that has sent them over here. Mark my words!" exclaimed young Bromfeld, "it won't be long before a blow will be struck that meaneth war, and when it is, it will be near Boston town that the first sharp crack of a gun will be heard. "And also when that blow is struck, I shall be on the ground almost before one could say 'Jack Robinson!'" "I would I could go too," said Lionel, "running like 'Sam Hill!'" Both young men laughed a little, then Reginald asked: "But would that be best? It may be that Virginia's sons will need remain to defend her. You know I hail from Boston, am native there, although business affairs of my mother's have brought me here." "I should not mean to fly from duty," said There came at that moment the sound of gay voices from near the house. "What you say may be true," Reginald hastened to reply, then he added in a sly tone, "but I thought it might be there were fair ones, I might say, a fair one, it would be your first sweet duty to stay and defend." "Oh, prithee, halt!" cried Lionel, half impatiently. "The fair one I would guard and defend, at present, is my native land. All fair dames and maidens have my respect and command my service, but I can think neither of billing or cooing or wooing with sound of clanking guns being raised in our midst, and by those who call us 'rebels!' "Now here come the ladies. And hark ye! the subject must be changed. I like not talking of war with those who think it sin to take up arms against the king." "It would sometimes seem that he loveth the Lady Rosamond not one whit," she said, dreamily. Then she arose, shook out her pretty skirt with its simple but tasteful overskirt of flowered cloth, and began a leisurely homeward walk. Her heart-beats quickened and she turned her head aside, when two soldiers appeared at a turn in the road. She could usually avoid meeting them, but to-night they were so near she must needs pass them. As she hurried by, some green sprays she had held fluttered to the ground. The next instant a tall, graceful form was by her side, and a pair of curious eyes were peeping into her straw bonnet. "Permit me, ma'selle," said a pleasant voice, and the green sprays were offered her. Sally had raised her eyes in surprise, but said "Thank you," and was hurrying on when the soldier suddenly exclaimed "Ah! ah!" as if "There are many abroad to-night," he said, with a strange way of calling his words, "and it might be convenient to have a friend near; would ma'selle permit me to walk beside her?" But Sally, with all her shyness at times, was no coward, and she very well knew that the British soldier and a stranger should not seek to walk with her. So she replied, in a low voice but with a fine, maidenly air: "My home is at the parson's close by. I have no fear, nor is there need that any one should walk with me;" and she raised her eyes part way to his face. The soldier said "Ah!" again, but this time with so great a note of surprise that Sally looked him full in the face, and lo! it was not a young man at all that she saw, but a tall, handsome man with thick moustaches that were going gray. Now neither Englishmen nor Americans wore moustaches in those days. A beard or side-whiskers were often worn, but Sally had never But it was not the brave, distinguished look of the soldier that made Sally pause for an instant with her eyes on his face. Some dim memory was stirred at sight of him. As she dropped her eyes the soldier said, in a gentle voice: "Would not young ma'selle tell her name? I bear myself a name both true and tried, one of which never to be ashamed. I would know what name ma'selle is called by." Sally was quick of thought. "Parson Kendall might better tell my name," she said. "Oh, and here comes Mammy!" And making excuse to dart away, Sally hastened forward at sight of Mammy Leezer, who had come along at the right moment. Mammy was out in great glory. A gay bandanna, really a handkerchief of red silk with yellow dots, was made up into a gay turban, with rabbit's ears that stood erect just over the middle of her forehead. Another gay kerchief was crossed over her "What dat sojer man sayin' to you, honey?" she asked, as Sally flew up to her in a way to do her affectionate old heart good. "Nothing much," said Sally. "I dropped some leaves and he picked them up for me, but I didn't want him stepping beside me, so I ran up to you." "Which am de proper ting to do," said Mammy, with dignity. "Doan't you let none of dem Britishers go sparkin' yo' pritty face, honey, nor doan't you be a bit 'fraid o' dem, neder. I nebber was 'fraid ob de face of clay, and dar doan't no sojers make eyes at me when I goes out walkin' ov an evening." Sally wanted to laugh at the pompous air with which Mammy stalked along, much like an old dragoon, she thought, for the soft spring weather had helped her rheumatism, and she could get along with considerable comfort. She had reached the gate, and was startled as she began going up the gravelled walk to hear a soft voice beside her say: "Allow me, ma'selle," and the tall soldier's sword grated on the walk, as, bending low, he put a card in the curve of her arm. Then lifting his hat gay with gold lace high above his head, he said, with his gentle accent, "Au revoir, ma'selle." And he was gone. "He is French," said Sally, "for he said 'Au revoir, ma'selle,' and that means 'adieu, or good-by, mademoiselle, until we meet again.'" |