THE CRUISER'S THREAT.

Terrence and Sukey both volunteered to accompany Fernando's detached riflemen in the vigorous campaign which was before them. Fernando's riflemen now numbered one hundred and sixty-two, composed mostly of frontiersmen, all dead shots. Sukey declared that he was in the game and would kill a British officer for every stripe Captain Snipes had caused to be laid on his shoulders.

"There were twelve blows, nine stripes each. Nine times twelve are one hundred and eight."

"And have ye got the job all before ye, Sukey?" asked Terrence.

"I've commenced. Eight have been blotted out. Only a hundred remains," Sukey answered solemnly.

No one asked when the eight had been blotted out, but Fernando knew he must have done it while the Macedonian was fighting the American frigate. Sailors, driven to desperation, frequently take advantage of such occasions to wreak vengeance on cruel officers. The boatswain's mate who had flogged Sukey was found dead on the gun deck at the close of the fight.

The American forces were hurried forward to Washington, where everything was in the wildest confusion. The contemptible Peace Party had done all by way of ridicule and argument to keep off the war, and were now doing all in their power to prevent its prosecution. General Winder and Commodore Barney were in command of the land and naval forces of the United States, for the defence of Washington. In vain Winder had called on the government for more troops and supplies.

When Fernando arrived at Washington, Barney had already blown up his flotilla at Pig Point, and with his soldiers and marines joined General Winder.

General Ross, the commander of the British land forces and one of the most active of Wellington's officers, on finding the American flotilla a smoking ruin, marched to upper Marlborough with his troops, where a road led directly to Washington City, leaving Cockburn in charge of the British flotilla. Winder had but three thousand men, most of them undisciplined, to oppose this force; and he prudently retreated toward Washington followed by Ross, who, on the 23d of August, was joined by Cockburn and his seamen.

Uncertain whether Washington City or Fort Washington was the destination of the enemy, Winder left a force at Bladensburg about four miles from the capitol, and with other troops watched the highways leading in other directions, while he hastened to the city to inform the president that the enemy were camped in ten miles of the capitol.

Neither President Madison nor his cabinet slept that night. Fernando and his riflemen were sent to Bladensburg at midnight, and on the morning of August 24, 1814, a small scouting party sent down the road came back reporting that the British army was on the advance.

Fernando with his riflemen went to meet the enemy and hold them in check as long as possible. About ten o'clock, they came in sight of the advance of the enemy. About two hundred redcoats were led by an officer on horseback.

Sukey saw that officer, and he also saw an old tree about a hundred yards nearer the enemy and twenty paces to the left of the road. From it, one would be in long rifle range of the British.

"Fernando, I want to go there," said Sukey, hugging his long rifle as if it were his dearest friend.

"Go."

He went with arms trailed, stooping as he ran, to keep the enemy from seeing him, and gained the tree, which stood on an eminence that overlooked the narrow valley below. The British saw the Americans and halted. The officer was riding up and down the line giving directions, wholly unconscious of the rifle behind the old tree.

Suddenly a little puff of smoke curled up from where Sukey was crouched, and the crack of a rifle rang out. The officer in his gay uniform dropped his sword and fell from his saddle, while Sukey took a small day book from his pocket and wrote "nine" in it.

Fernando's company fell back to Bladensburg, where he deployed them so as to cover the Americans' line, and awaited the approach of the enemy.

It was afternoon before they advanced, and the skirmishers for ten minutes held them in check, then, as they fell back to the main line, Fernando saw Sukey write "twelve" in his book. The fight began in earnest just below Bladensburg in an old field. The roar of cannon and rattling crash of musketry filled the air. General Winder, who had been in Washington the night before, returned just before the battle began. The militia broke and fled in confusion; and the brave Barney, with Captain Stevens' riflemen, sustained the brunt of the battle, until Barney was severely wounded, when Winder, seeing no hope of winning a victory, ordered a retreat. The troops remaining fell back toward Montgomery Courthouse, in Maryland, leaving the battlefield in possession of the invaders. The battle had lasted more than four hours, and the victory was won at fearful cost, for more than five hundred Britons were dead or wounded on the field, among them several officers of distinction, Sukey had added several numbers in his book.

The president and his secretaries of war and state had come to witness the conflict and give assistance if possible. When the day was lost, they mounted swift horses and dashed back to the city. Terrence, who had captured the steed of a British officer, overtook the president's advance party. Whipping his horse alongside the president, he cried:

"Misther Madison, wasn't that as illegant a knock down as iver a man saw in all his life? I enjoy such."

"How are we to save Washington without an army?" cried the president, whose mind was wholly occupied with the safety of the capital.

To this, Terrence responded with his stereotyped:

"Lave it all to me."

Mrs. Madison, at the White House, had already been apprised of danger, by a messenger sent by her husband on the flight of the militia. Her carriage was at the door ready for flight, and she had already sent away to a place of safety silver plate and other valuables. While waiting anxiously for her husband, she cut out of the frame for preservation a full length portrait of Washington, by Stuart. At this moment, her husband's messengers, Mr. Jacob Barker and another man, entered the house. Mr. Barker cried:

"Fly, Mrs. Madison, the day is lost, and the British are coming!"

"Where is my husband?" she asked.

"Safe, and he will join you beyond the Potomac."

Pointing to Washington's picture on the floor, she cried:

"Save that picture! save or destroy it, but do not let it fall into the hands of the British!"

Then, snatching up the precious parchment on which the Declaration of Independence was written, and which contained the names of the fifty-six signers of that document, she entered the carriage with her sister and two others, and the four were driven away to a place of safety beyond the Potomac. The picture was saved, and it now adorns one of the reception rooms in the White House.

The British entered Washington at sunset, August 24, 1814, and at once began to plunder, burn and destroy. The capitol, president's house, treasury buildings, arsenal and barracks were burned, and of the public buildings only the patent office was saved. Some private houses were plundered and others were burned. While these buildings were blazing in the city, the public vessels and other government property at the navy yard were in flames, for Commodore Tingey, who was in command there, had been ordered to destroy this property in case it was likely to fall into the hands of the invaders. Two millions of dollars' worth of public property were destroyed on that night.

On the 27th of August, three days later, Alexandria was plundered of her public stores by the British. Having taken an enormous amount as ransom for the city, the British sailed down the Potomac, annoyed part of the way by the guns from the American forts.

Fernando Stevens' riflemen, after the battle of Bladensburg, hastened toward Baltimore, which they knew to be also threatened. Here they found the people energetically making every possible effort to defend the city. Fort McHenry, which commanded the harbor, was garrisoned by about a thousand men, under Major Armistead, and was supported by redoubts. Fernando's riflemen were assigned to General Stricker.

On September 11, 1814, the enemy appeared off Patapsco Bay, and before sunrise on the 12th had landed, nine thousand strong, at North Point, twelve miles from Baltimore. When news came that the British were landing on North Point, General Smith, who had about nine thousand men under his command, sent General Stricker with more than three thousand of them, to watch the enemy, and act as circumstances might require.

Fernando Stevens' riflemen accompanied Stricker, and were sent forward down a rocky ravine, where they might watch the enemy. Fernando left his men in the deepest hollow while he, with only ten or twelve, crept forward behind some large stones which lay at the roadside. About ten paces to the right of Fernando was Sukey, with his formidable rifle resting in the hollow of his left arm. Soon the head of the long column could be seen advancing up the broad thoroughfare. Fernando saw two gayly-dressed officers riding at the head. He afterward learned that they were Generals Ross and Cockburn.

"Say, Fernando," said Sukey, "those fellows are officers, ain't they?"

"Yes."

"Must be generals by the clothes they wear?"

"Perhaps."

Ross was riding gayly along by the side of Cockburn, laughing and jesting about making Baltimore his winter quarters, when on their left there suddenly rang out the sharp crack of a rifle, while a little puff of smoke curled up from the great black rock almost two hundred paces distant.

"Oh!" groaned the general, and jerking his rein, until his horse reared in the air, his chin fell on his chest, and he began to sink from the saddle. Cockburn caught him and called for assistance. They hurried him back to the boats, where he might have surgical aid; but he died before the boats were reached.

Fernando Stevens heard the sharp report on his right, as Ross fell, and, turning his eyes in that direction, saw the smoke slowly curling up from the muzzle of Sukey's rifle.

"Say, Fernando, I ought to count three or four for that one, shouldn't I?" Sukey coolly asked. "He was a big one." [Footnote: The reader will pardon this slight deviation from history. The real slayers of General Ross were two Baltimore mechanics, Wells and McComas, both of whom fell in the conflict on the same day, and to whose memory a monument has been erected by the citizens of Baltimore.]

The British were thrown into momentary confusion by the sudden death of General Ross; but Colonel Brooke rallied them, and Fernando's riflemen fell back until they joined General Stricker's men.

The British came on and a severe fight, which lasted two hours, ensued, when Stricker ordered a retreat to his reserve corps. There he reformed a brigade and fell back toward the city, as far as Worthington's Mill, where they were joined by General Winder and some fresh troops.

Fernando witnessed the bombardment of Fort McHenry during that terrible night, when Mr. Francis S. Key, a prisoner on board an English vessel, composed the song which immortalized him,--"The Star-Spangled Banner."

Not only Baltimore, but all the Chesapeake and coast was threatened by the British. Cruisers by the score were threatening almost every seaport town.

The day after the unsuccessful bombardment of Fort McHenry, General Smith sent for Fernando Stevens, and when he was in the general's head quarters, that officer said:

"Captain Stevens, I would like to have you do a little detached duty."

"General, I am willing to do whatever you wish. You can command me at your pleasure."

"There is a cruiser on the coast threatening a little town where some government stores have been placed for safety. Will you undertake the defence of the town?"

"Certainly; I will do the best I can; but success will depend on my means."

"How many men have you?"

"One hundred and fifty."

"I will send fifty marines with you."

"But artillery?"

"There are some nine-pounders and one long thirty-two at the village. Muster your men, hasten there at once, and do the best you can."

"But, general, you have not yet told me the name of the village."

"Mariana."

"What?" gasped Fernando, starting to his feet. "Did you say Mariana. Perhaps I misunderstood you."'

"No; I mean Mariana. Captain Lane, an old privateer officer of the Revolution, is there. He has organized a company of Marylanders on the peninsula on which Mariana is situated, and will be able to help you some. You will find an abundance of ammunition for your artillery."

Fernando left the general's quarters with his heart beating in a way which he could not explain. Terrence had just returned to the company. Fernando ordered his men to be ready to march at dark, and was hastening across the street to a tavern for his supper, when he was suddenly accosted by a familiar voice with:

"Golly! massa Stevens, am dat you?"

"Job, where have you come from?"

"Everywhar, Massa. I done been rovin' de worl' over huntin' for de massa I belong to when I war taken by de Britishers; but I can't find him. Whar ye gwine?"

Fernando explained, and the negro said:

"Golly! ye goin' dar?"

"Yes, Job."

"De ship what am goin' ter bombard dat town am de Xenophon."

"Xenophon!" cried Fernando; "surely Providence must be in this."

Job volunteered at once to accompany the riflemen, and, having some knowledge of gunnery, his services were very acceptable.

At dusk, with competent guides, Fernando set out for the village.

Five years had been added to the weight with which time was crushing Captain Lane; but his spirit was still as undaunted as ever, and when he found the town threatened by a British cruiser, he hastily organized the people into militia companies, and began throwing up a line of earthworks, which extended from his own house to the lowest extremity of the village.

The plan of the breastwork was well laid and executed; but the artillery was poorly mounted and they were sadly in need of experienced gunners.

"Father, don't exert yourself until you are sick!" said Morgianna, when her father came home one evening exhausted. "Surely, if the British come, they will not harm us."

"My child, the plunderers have sacked other towns and insulted the inhabitants, and why not ours?"

"But no ship is in sight."

"No; yet one has been hovering about the coast and Tris Penrose, who was far out in his fishing smack to reconnoitre, says it is the Xenophon."

"The Xenophon!" and the pretty face grew pale. She remembered that that vessel, five years before, had paid the village a friendly visit. Captain Lane was watching her closely. She knew it and guessed the reason. After a moment's silence, she asked:

"Father, isn't Lieutenant Matson on the Xenophon?"

"I suppose he is."

"Surely he is your friend."

"In war there are no friends among the enemy, child, and no enemy among friends. We are simply Americans or British."

"Yet, father, there are personal ties stronger than loyalty to nation or political party."

The old man heard her argument with evident anxiety. He loved his little sea-waif as ardently as ever father loved a child, and for five years he fancied and feared she loved the lieutenant of the Xenophon.

"True, child, you speak the truth, yet my heart tells me that we cannot trust to friendship now, seeing that this quarrel has grown so bitter." He was sorry to say this, for he felt that every word he uttered was like a dagger at the heart of Morgianna. After a painful silence, the old, white-haired seaman added, "Forgive me, Morgianna; but I am an old man, and I may not look at things as you do. I love my country and her flag. I have seen our poor sailors too often enslaved to be a friend to any Englishman while the war lasts."

"What do you mean, father?"

"You love him, Morgianna. I felt it, I knew it all along, but I couldn't help it. I knew I ought to do something, but, child, I didn't know what to do. If you had had a mother she could have advised you, but I didn't."

"Father, you talk so strangely; what do you mean?"

"I knew all along, my child, that you loved him; but Lieutenant Matson is a bad one, even if he is the son of my old friend. I could see the devil glinting in his eyes, and the mock of his smile, when he met the young Ohioan here five years ago. He's a bad man accompanied with foul weather wherever he goes, and I know it just so long as I know the cat's paw, the white creeping mist, like a dirty thing which makes me cry out to my crew, 'All hands to reef! Quick! All hands to reef!'" The old man was silent for a moment, smoking his pipe, while his eyes were on the floor. Had he looked up, he would have seen a decidedly mischievous look in the face of Morgianna, which certainly did not indicate that she was seriously affected. After a few moments, without looking up, the old man with a sigh continued:

"Ah, my little maid, if you could only have listened a bit to the noble Ohioan;--if it could have been him instead of Matson, love and patriotism could have gone hand in hand. The night we went to the cliff, I thought you did like him; but it was not to be. 'Tis dreadful! dreadful! why did God make woman so? Poor Fernando; there was good love going a-begging and getting nothing for it but a frown and a hard word; while--" he did not finish the sentence, for a pair of white arms were put around his neck, and a voice as sweet as the rippling music of the hillside brook said:

"Never fret yourself, father, for Morgianna loves you first of all and best of all," and she slipped on his knee and kissed away the anxious cloud gathering on his brow. The old man was quite overcome by this caress, and before he could make any answer there came a heavy tread on the piazza, a heavy knock, and a moment later a servant announced, Tris Penrose and John Burrel. They were admitted and Penrose, who had made another reconnoisance that afternoon in his fishing yacht, said:

"Aw, captain, I be just returned, and having somewhat of importance to impart I came to tell you."

Captain Lane asked the Cornish fisherman to be seated and asked:

"What have you seen, Tris?"

"You see, captain, it be like this. I be out at sea beyond the bay, and I see a great ship beating up in the bay against wind and tide, and I watch her for a long time as she do go first on one tack and then on the other, until I make sure she be heading for Mariana, and I hasten to tell, with all sail."

Burrel explained that from the farthest point of Duck Island the vessel had been sighted, and that there was no longer any question of her destination. Captain Lane rose to go down to the village, where the greatest excitement prevailed. Turning to Morgianna, he asked:

"Will you be afraid to remain here, my gem o' the sea?"

"No, father."

The captain went and quieted the people. A strong breeze was blowing from the land, and he knew full well that the Xenophon could not possibly come near enough to harm them for several hours. He gave some directions concerning the strengthening of the fort, and went home and retired to bed.

Next morning the ship-of-war, the Xenophon was reported lying without the harbor, and at noon, being unable, owing to contrary winds, to enter the harbor, they saw her long-boats landing troops on the northern point of land. Soldiers to the number of two hundred were landed on the point of land, which, two miles north of Duck Island, projected far out into the sea and was called O'Connor's Point. Mariana was situated on a peninsula from half a mile to two miles wide and the troops hurried to the narrowest neck of this peninsula where they halted and proceeded to throw up light earthworks, so as to completely cut off all retreat of the inhabitants.

That evening some officers and a marine guard with a white flag were seen coming down the great road leading from the neck of the peninsula to the mainland and thence to Baltimore. Many of the inhabitants recognized Lieutenant Matson before he came to the fort. They were halted and asked what they wanted.

Lieutenant Matson stated that it was his wish to see Captain Lane.

Mounting the earthworks, Captain Lane asked:

"Do you come in peace or in war?"

"In peace."

"Then, as the son of an old friend, you are welcome. You can send back your guard and flag of truce, for I am sufficient surety for your safety."

The lieutenant told his guard to retire, while he went over the parapet and ascended the hill to the great white house. Lieutenant Matson was very grave and silent, when they reached the house, which was lighted, for it was now growing dark. Captain Lane asked his visitor to be seated and said:

"Now, Lieutenant Matson, you may proceed with your business."

A pair of soft, dark eyes were fixed on them from a door which was slightly ajar, and even the darkness seemed lighter from the glow of golden hair. The lieutenant's back was toward this room, and he did not see the beautiful, anxious face and roguish eyes. Lieutenant Matson, after a brief silence, said:

"Captain Lane, I am come on a matter of business in which friendship and regard are mingled. Believe me that, had it not been for my great esteem for yourself and Morgianna, I should have sent an under officer with my message instead of bringing it myself."

Captain Lane bowed and hoped that Lieutenant Matson would not allow friendship to stand in the way of duty. Lieutenant Matson continued:

"First, I have come, captain, to demand of you the surrender of this post,--that is, of all the government stores in it, assuring you that private property shall not be molested, and the men in arms shall be treated as prisoners of war."

Without a moment's hesitation, the old sea captain answered:

"I refuse to comply with your demand."

"Surely, Captain Lane, you must know that you cannot hope to resist the Xenophon. Her heavy guns will soon batter down your walls and destroy your houses."

"When that is done, it will be time enough to think of surrendering."

"Surely you do not know that Washington is burned and Baltimore surrounded. All night long the fleet bombarded the town."

"Yes, we could hear the roar of cannon even here."

"Well, you must ultimately surrender."

Lieutenant Matson was greatly distressed by the stubbornness of Captain Lane. He reminded him of the helpless women and children in the town, and asked him, for their sakes, to consider the crime of resisting; but it was all in vain. Captain Lane had been chosen by the people to defend them, and he swore he was no Hull to yield at the sight of an enemy.

"No, sir; when our guns are dismounted, our walls battered down, our houses burned, and there is not a man able to hold a lanyard, then it is time to think of surrendering."

"Very well, Captain, if such is your resolution, I must leave you; but permit me to conduct Miss Morgianna to a place of safety. She would be safe on board the Xenophon and I offer her----"

"What!" interrupted Captain Lane, his eyes flashing fire. "Lieutenant Matson, do you wish to insult me?"

"No, Captain Lane, I merely wish to secure the safety of Morgianna."

"Morgianna! Morgianna!" called the old man, starting to his feet and pacing the floor anxiously.

"Here, father!" and, clothed in spotless white, looking like some celestial being just reached this earth, Morgianna entered the room. "What do you want, father?" she asked, paying no heed to the lieutenant, who had risen to his feet with a most gracious smile and bow.

"Morgianna, Lieutenant Matson announces that the English frigate Xenophon is coming to destroy our town and kill our people. He offers you a place on board that vessel where he says you will be safe. Do you accept it?"

[Illustration: "MY FATHER WILL PROTECT ME; I WANT NO OTHER PROTECTION."]

"No!" she answered, stamping one little slippered foot on the floor. Then going to the captain's side, she laid her head on his shoulder and said:

"My father will protect me; I want no other protection."

"Morgianna," began the baffled lieutenant, "I would like a word with you in private--"

"Lieutenant Matson, I don't care to hear you--I will not listen to you. As my father's friend, I once did tolerate you; but now, as my country's enemy, I have no forbearance with you. Begone!" and her white, jeweled hand pointed to the door.

The Briton's face flushed crimson, as he retorted:

"Morgianna, you may regret--"

"Lieutenant Matson!" interrupted the captain fiercely. "Not another word, lest I forget your father was my mate. Begone!"

With an oath, Matson left the town and returned to his men on the neck of the peninsula. When he was gone, Captain Lane turned to his daughter and was surprised to see a look of contempt instead of the grief he had expected. That one glance convinced him that he had been mistaken, and that she did not love the Englishman after all.

"Father, that man's true spirit was revealed to-night. Even though he is your old friend's son, he is a villain."

Next day some of the Marylanders had a skirmish with the British on the neck of land, and one of the villagers was wounded. The Xenophon still hovered near the mouth of the narrow harbor and only waited a favorable wind to enter the bay, and commence the siege which could have but one result.

Captain Lane strove hard to be cheerful; but his heart was heavier than lead. Again night came, with the Xenophon anchored off Mud Island. The night was dark, and the wind from shore strong, so that Captain Lane knew she could not enter the harbor.

He was sitting at his fireside, when suddenly from the narrow inlet south of the peninsula there rang out a volley of musketry followed by wild cries and cheers. The volley was followed by heavy firing, and Captain Lane, donning his hat, snatched his sword and ran down to the works, where the drum was beating, and the Marylanders were seizing muskets and falling into line.

"What is it? whom have they attacked?" was the general query asked by all. The pickets were called in and the only sentries were the chain guards just outside the parapet. Suddenly the sound of footsteps came from the darkness, and the sentries knew that two or three men were running toward them. Zeb Cole, a large, powerful Marylander, finding one of them coming directly at him, dropped his musket and, seizing the fellow's throat, hurled him to the ground.

"Halt! ye wanderin' Israelite. Stop an' tell me who you are?"

"Oh, let go me, massa, lem me up!" pleaded the captive, struggling to his feet. "I ain't no Britisher! dar ain't no Angler Saxun blood in dese veins. I is a Yankee nigger, massa, bet I am."

Another man who had come up at a run cried in language in which the Hibernian was plainly distinguishable:

"Hould hard, ye haythin! The redcoats are afther us!"

"Who be ye?" demanded Zeb.

"The advance guard of two hundred Americans comin' to help ye whip the Britisher. Jist as we landed, afther crossing the mouth of the creek, the dirthy spalpeens fired on us; but we drove thim back, and here come our boys at double quick."

Terrence was correct, for Fernando and his riflemen having cut their way through the British, hurried into the fort. Captain Lane was amazed to find their friends led by the young Ohioan, whom he had entertained at his house five years before.

"Did you lose any of your men in the skirmish?" asked Captain Lane.

"Two were wounded, none killed or missing. Has the Xenophon commenced the bombardment yet?"

"No; but she will as soon as the wind shifts to bring her in."

"How many men have you capable of bearing arms, Captain Lane?" asked Fernando.

"Almost two hundred."

"I have two hundred more, we will die together or beat off the ship."

"Did General Winder send you to defend the town?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then I will serve under you. Captain Stevens."

Fernando tried to get the old captain to assume command; but he said he was too old; that he would gladly advise him and serve with him and under him; but he did not want the responsibility of the command. Then, all being quiet, Captain Lane went to his house to sleep and rest.

"He is gone," said Fernando when left alone near the big gun; "gone and not a word said about Morgianna. What will she say, what will she think, when she knows it is I who came to defend her?"

Fernando sighed and was very unhappy.