The Loyalist. James Francis Barrett

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СКАЧАТЬ cut coat, with skirts hooked back displaying a buff lining, and with lappets, cuff-linings and standing capes of like color. His bearing was overmastering as he stood at perfect ease, his hand resting gently on a small sword hanging at his side; his right wrist showed a delicate lace ruffle as he gestured to and fro in his conversation. As he slightly turned in her direction, she saw that he wore his hair drawn back from the face, with a gentle roll on each side, well powdered and tied in a cue behind. His features were pleasant to look upon, not large but finely chiseled and marked with expression. Marjorie thought what a handsome figure he made as he stood in earnest conversation, dominating the little group who surrounded him and followed his every move with interest and attention.

      "Let me call him," suggested the Governor to Marjorie who at that moment stood with her eyes fixed on the Captain. "I am sure he will be pleased to learn the identity of his fair partner," he added facetiously.

      "Oh! do," agreed Peggy. "It would afford pleasure to all of us to meet him."

      The General whispered a word to an attendant who immediately set off in the direction of the unconcerned Captain. As the latter received the message he turned, looked in the direction of the dais and gazed steadily at the Governor and his company. His eyes met Marjorie's and she was sure that he saw her alone. The thought thrilled her through and through. He excused himself from the company of his circle, and as he directed his footsteps towards her, she noted his neat and close fitting buff waistcoat, and his immaculate linen revealing itself at the throat and ruffled wrists. Nor did she fail to observe that he wore a buff cockade on his left breast and gilt epaulets upon his shoulders.

      "Captain Meagher," announced General Arnold. "I have the honor of presenting you to your partner for the evening, Mistress Allison."

      Marjorie courtesied gracefully to his courtly acknowledgment.

      "And the Misses Shippen, the belles of the Mischienza!"

      Stephen bowed profoundly.

      "I was just remarking, Captain, that General Washington has honored you with a special mission, and that you have run away from your duties tonight to mingle with the social life of the city."

      "Or rather, Your Excellency, to acquaint myself with their society," Stephen replied good-naturedly.

      "Then you do not relax, even for an evening," inquired Peggy, with a coquettish turn of the head.

      "It is the duty of a soldier never to relax." Stephen's reply was more naïve than usual.

      "And yet one's hours are shortened by pleasure and action," continued Peggy.

      "As a recreation it is far sweeter than as a business. It soon exhausts us, however, and it is the greatest incentive to evil."

      "But you dance?" interrupted the General.

      "Oh, yes! Your Excellency," replied Stephen, "after a fashion."

      "Well, your partner is longing for the music. Come, let ye assemble."

      And as the dance was announced, the first one being dedicated to "The Success of the Campaign," Stephen and Marjorie moved off and took their places. Peggy and her sisters were soon attended and followed. They were soon lost in the swirl of excitement among the throng.

II

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      "And you live alone with your father and mother?"

      Marjorie and her partner were sitting in a distant corner whither they had wandered at the conclusion of the dance. Stephen began to find himself taking an unusual interest in this girl and was inquiring concernedly about her home life.

      "Yes, Father's time is much consumed with his attention to the shop. Mother and I find plenty to occupy us about the house. Then I relieve Father at times, and so divide my hours between them," quietly answered Marjorie.

      "You have not as yet told me your name," Stephen reminded her.

      "Marjorie," was the timid reply.

      "Marjorie!" Then, taking advantage of her averted look, he stole secret glances at her small round face, her lips, firmly set but curving upwards, her rose-pink cheeks. Presently, his eye rested on her finger-ring, a cameo with what looked like an ectypal miniature of the "Ecce Homo." Was this girl of his faith?

      "Marjorie Allison," he repeated again. "Do you know that sounds like a Catholic name?"

      "It is," Marjorie replied proudly. "Our family have been Catholics for generations."

      "Mine have, too," Stephen gladly volunteered the information. "Irish Catholics with a history behind them."

      "Is your home here?" asked Marjorie.

      "Here in this country, yes," admitted her escort. "But I live in New York and it was there I volunteered at the outbreak of the war, and saw my first service in the New York campaign."

      "And are your parents there, too?" inquired the girl.

      And then he told her that his father and mother and only sister lived there and that when the war broke out he determined to enlist in company with a number of his friends, the younger men of the neighborhood. How he took part in the campaign about New York and his "contribution to our defeat," as he styled it. Of the severe winter at Valley Forge and his appointment by Washington to his staff. She listened with keen interest but remained silent until the end.

      "And now you are in the city on detailed duty?"

      "Yes. Work of a private nature for the Commander-in-chief."

      "It must be a source of satisfaction to be responsive to duty," observed Marjorie.

      "It is God's medicine to detach us from the things of this world. For, after all has been said and done, it is love alone which elevates one's service above the domain of abject slavery. In such a manner do the commands of heaven afford the richest consolations to the soul."

      "And still, a certain routine must manifest itself at times."

      "Not when the habit is turned to pleasure."

      "You are a philosopher, then?"

      "No. Just a mere observer of men and their destinies."

      "Have you included the duration of the war in your legitimate conclusions?"

      "It is not over yet, and it will not terminate, I think, without an improvement in the present condition of affairs. The proposed help from France must become a reality of no ordinary proportion, else the discordant factions will achieve dire results. Tell me," he said, suddenly changing the topic of conversation, "were you in attendance at the Mischienza?"

      "No, I did not care to attend."

      "I would I had been present."

      "You would have been expelled in your present capacity."

      "Ah, yes! But I would have affected a disguise."

      "You СКАЧАТЬ