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Ticonderoga; A Story of Early Frontier Life in the Mohawk Valley

<h4>CHAPTER XXIV</h4> When Edith rose on the day following the visit of poor Captain Brooks, somewhat later than was her custom--for the first half of the watches of the night had known no comfort--Woodchuck was gone. He had waited for no leave-taking, and was on his way toward the mountains before the dawn of day. It was better for all, indeed, that he should go, and he felt it. Not that there was any chance of his resolution being shaken, but as he had himself said, he wished to forget that resolution--to think no more of his coming fate than the dark remembrance of it within his own heart forced him to think; and the presence of Mr. Prevost and his daughter--the very absence of Walter from their fireside--would have reminded him constantly of the rock on which his bark was inevitably steering. With Mr. Prevost and Edith his presence would have had the effect of keeping up the struggle between affection for Walter and a kindly sense of justice toward him. His every look, his every word, would have been a source of painful interest, and the terrible balancing of very narrowly divided equities, where life was in the scale and affection held the beam, would have gone on, in the mind at least, continually. When he was gone the agitating feelings gradually subtranspose themselves, and they almost looked upon him as a thing decided; the mind was relieved from a greater apprehension by a lesser, and a quiet melancholy, whenever his coming fate was thought of, took the place of anxious alarm. In some sort the present and the past seemed to transpose themselves, and they almost looked upon him as already dead. True, all fear in regard to Walter was not completely banished. There was nothing definite, there was no tangible object of apprehension. They felt perfectly sure that Woodchuck would execute his resolution, but yet the heart, like an agitated pendulum, vibrated long after the momentum had ceased. It grew quieter and quieter by degrees, however, on the part of Mr. Prevost; a change of thought and of object did much. All his preparations had to be made for the proper execution of the office he had undertaken. He had more than once to go to Albany, and on each occasion he took his daughter with him. Each change had some effect, and both he and Edith recovered a certain degree of cheerfulness at last in general society. It was only in the quiet and the silent hours, when either was left alone, when those intervals took place during which, sleep refuses to visit the eye, when all external sounds are still, when all external sights are absent, and the mind is left alone with thought, and nothing but thought for its companion--it was only then that the fear, and the anxiety, and the gloom returned. Every moment that could be spared from military duties were passed by Lord H---- at Edith's side, whether in her own home or in the city. Thus passed nearly three weeks, by which time the bustle of active preparation, the marching of several regiments toward the north, and signs of activity and haste in every department, gave notice to the inhabitants of Albany that some important military movement was about to take place. The fife and drum, the lumbering roll of the cannon, were daily heard in the quiet streets. Boats were seen collecting on the river, parades and exercises occupied the greater part of every day; scouts and runners were hurrying about in all directions, and clouds of Indians, painted and feathered for the warpath, hovered round the city, and often appeared in the streets. Lord H---- had advanced with his whole regiment to the neighborhood of Sandy Hill; other bodies of troops were following, and the commissary general, whose active energy and keen intelligence surprised all who had only known him as a somewhat reserved and moody man, had advanced to a spot on the Hudson where a small fort had been built at the commencement of what was called the King's road, to see with his own eyes the safe delivery and proper distribution of the stores he had collected. Long ranges of huts had gathered round the fort, which was judged so far within the English lines as to be a place of perfect security, and many a lady from Albany, both young and old, had gathered together there to see the last of husband, brother, or father, before they plunged into the forest and encountered the enemy. Here everything was done, as usual, to smooth the front of war and conceal ugly features, and certainly after the arrival of Lord H---- with his regiment and the wing of another, the scene was brilliant and lively enough. Bright dresses, glittering arms, military music, fluttering flags, and prancing chargers, were beheld on every side, and gay and lively talk, only interrupted now and then by the solemn words of adieu, of caution, or direction from anxious heart to anxious heart, hid in a great degree the deeper, stronger, sterner feelings that were busy underneath. In all such expeditions, amidst the bustle and excitement, there come lapses of quiet inactivity, especially before the first blow is struck. Some accident causes a delay; some movements have not been combined with sufficient accuracy; one party has to wait for another, and is left unoccupied. Thus it was in the present instance. A small but important division of the army, to be accompanied by a large body of Indians, was retarded by a deficiency of boats, and the news arrived that two days must elapse before they could reach the fort. A superior officer was now present, and both Lord H---- and Mr. Prevost felt that it would be no dereliction of duty to seek leave of absence, in order to visit once more the house of the latter, and personally escort Edith to the place where she was to remain till the object of the expedition was accomplished. The same day it was first made known what the object of that expedition was. The word Ticonderoga was whispered through the encampment, running from the general's quarters through every rank down to the private soldier, and a strange sort of feeling of joy spread throughout the force; not that many knew either the importance of the object or the state of the place, but simply that all were relieved from an uncertainty. The comment of Lord H---- was very brief. He had long known, indeed, the fact now first published, but as he told it to Edith while seating her on her horse to set out, he said: "The place is, luckily, near, and the business will soon be brought to an end, my love." A something indefinable in his heart made him add mentally, "one way or another," but he gave no utterance to the gloomy doubt, and the little party rode away. A calm, quiet evening, with the wind at the south, the sun setting red in clouds, and a gray vapor stealing over the sky, with every prospect of a coming storm, and yet everything still and sober in solemn tranquillity, often puts me in mind of those pauses in the busy course of life which precede some great and decisive event. Such an evening was that which Lord H---- and Edith and Mr. Prevost spent together at the house where so many of these scenes have been laid, after quitting Fort Edward in the morning. Their journey had passed quite peaceably. They had encountered no human being but a few bands of friendly Indians going to join the army, and the ride, as everyone knows, was, and still is, a very beautiful one. It had occupied hardly four hours, and thus the principal part of the day had been spent in calm tranquillity in a scene endeared to all. Mr. Prevost had retired to his room to write, and Lord H---- and Edith sat together in front of the house, gazing out toward the setting sun. They talked of many things, some not at all connected with the circumstances of the present or the future; they feared to dwell upon them too long, and they often sought relief in indifferent topics, but still the coming hour was vaguely present to the mind of each. It was like sitting near a waterfall, with the quiet, melancholy murmur of the cataract mingling harmoniously but sadly with every other sound. "I trust, dear Edith, that we shall see them together," said Lord H----, speaking of distant lands where they both had birth. "There is many a lovely thing to be met with in the old world, both in nature and in art, and though I love these beautiful scenes well, and enjoy as much as anyone the magnificence of unadorned nature, yet methinks that is no reason why we should not appreciate to the full all that is fine and lovely, though of a different character. It is the narrow-minded man alone, the man of an uncapacious soul, who suffers one sort of excellence to take possession of his taste or heart. Beauty and goodness are infinitely varied, and though I may love some aspects best, yet I trust ever to be capable of deriving pleasure from each and all." "But you have seen all these things, George," she answered. "Will it not weary you to go over them all again with so untutored a companion as myself?" He gazed at her for a moment with a look of earnest affection, and gently pressed the hand he held in his. "I take a new light with me, Edith," he replied, "a light that will give new loveliness to everything that is beautiful. I have often thought, my beloved, that to see our own sensations--I mean happy ones: enjoyment, admiration, satisfaction--reflected from the mind of one so dear as you are to me, must be like beholding a loved scene reflected from the bosom of a calm lake, when every fair feature and bright hue acquires a magic luster and a brightness greater in the borrowed image than even in the tangible reality. These are happy dreams, Edith; let us trust to renew them some few weeks hence, and then, whenever this campaign is over, I will quit this busy, perilous game of war, if Edith will then be mine, and realize the visions we love so well. In the meanwhile, dear one, as everyone who goes into battle encounters certainly some peril, let us speak a word of the future in case the worst should befall. You will remember me, Edith, I am sure, if I should not return. I do not think you will ever love another so well; but remember, I am not so selfish in my love as to wish you to sacrifice the whole comfort and happiness of a life to the memory of one departed. Be happy when and in what way you can. Consult your own feelings solely, and I do believe that if spirits can look down on earth when parted from this frail body, your happiness, however it is attained, will add to mine; for I cannot believe that when we quit this earth we carry the selfishness of clay along with us." The tears swam in Edith's eyes, and gemmed the long, black lashes round them, but they ran not over. "I have but one wish on earth, George," she answered, "when I think of the chances that you mention. It is that I may not survive you, even for an hour. If I had not known it could not be, I would have asked to go with you, in the hope that if you are to fall, one hour might take us both." Lord H---- smiled sadly, and shook his head. "That might entail greater sorrows still," he answered, "and in no sense could it be, my Edith. No soldier should have his wife with him. While in the field he should be detached as much as possible from every thought but that of duty. I doubt, indeed, that he should have any tie to earth whatever, except those which God imposed upon him at birth. This is one reason why I shall quit the army. I am less fit to be a soldier than I was, but I should be utterly unfit if I thought you were in peril. From all apprehension on that score, indeed, I go free. I felt some uneasiness, indeed, while I thought that you were to remain alone here, with none but the servants round you. As matters are arranged at present, however, you will be quite safe with Colonel Schneider and his wife. Besides his servants, the host of workmen employed in finishing his house and all the other works he has going on, will prove a little bodyguard in itself." "I should have felt myself perfectly secure here," replied Edith, "for the familiar aspect of all things round gives a sort of confidence which I could feel nowhere else. These Schneiders I hardly know, but if you and my father are better satisfied, I am content to be with them. What hour are we to set out to-morrow?" "Between one and two o'clock," replied Lord H----, "will be quite time enough. The distance is but six miles, and your father and I can very well escort you thither and reach Fort Edward before night." "I am glad of that," answered Edith. "To-morrow is the day that poor Captain Brooks is to be here. I should much like to see him once more, and I hope that he will arrive before we go. If not, I must tell the servants to provide for him well, and show him every kindness. Oh, George, is it not terrible to think of his encountering such a fate? The very idea of providing his last meals for him when going to a voluntary death makes my heart sink with horror and regret." "The only chance is between him and poor Walter," answered Lord H----; "and we must not forget that this act of Woodchuck's has not been pressed or even asked by us. He judges, and judges rightly, I think, that it would be ungenerous to allow Walter to suffer for his acts; and though I would not urge him to adopt the course he has chosen, I certainly would say nothing to dissuade him." "His self-devotion only makes it more terrible," answered Edith, "at least in my eyes, and yet I cannot help hoping," she continued, looking up inquiringly in her lover's face, "that something may occur. Why should I not say that something would be provided to rescue them both without this awful sacrifice?" Lord H---- would say nothing to quell a hope which he thought would give relief, but yet he did not share it; for his faith was less than Edith's--man's faith always is less than woman's. Not many minutes more passed before Mr. Prevost rejoined them, speaking to one of the servants as he entered, in a calm but rapid tone, and giving various orders and directions for the morrow. Although not likely to be exposed so much as if entrusted with a military command, some danger, of course, attended the mere fact of his accompanying the army, and he had spent the last hour or two in making many arrangements, in view of probable death. All the proceedings of the following day were then definitely arranged. After a hasty dinner he and Lord H----, with the four mounted men who accompanied them, and Edith's old traveling companion, Chaudo, were to escort her to the dwelling of Colonel Schneider, the new house built that spring, even farther in the wild than that of Mr. Prevost, of which the Indians on the hill had spoken. There, leaving her at once, the two gentlemen were to return to the camp, which they calculated upon reaching before nightfall. The night passed quietly; day followed, and while Edith was dressing she saw from her window the expected figure of Woodchuck walking toward the door, with a firmer tread and a more resolute and easy bearing than he displayed when he had last appeared. On descending, she found him talking with her father and Lord H----, with perfect calmness and ease. His look was firm and self-possessed, his air was bold, though tranquil, and he seemed to have gained health since she saw him last. Edith was almost tempted to believe that some happy change of circumstances had taken place, but his first words dispelled her illusion. "No, I thank you, Mr. Prevost," he said, "I must go on. I'll just take some breakfast with you, and then begin my march. I have calculated well my time, and should like to have a day or two to go and come upon. It does not do to leave things to the last. I guess I shall leave Johnson Castle to-night. Then, mayhap, I shall get a lift up the river in a canoe. But, at all events, even if I am obliged to foot it all the way, I shall be in time." Mr. Prevost looked down, and fell into thought, while Woodchuck advanced to Edith, shook hands with her, and spoke upon indifferent subjects. She now remarked that he was dressed in different guise from that which he had assumed during the winter. A light brown hunting shirt, loose in the body and the sleeves, seemed to be his principal garment; and in the belt which bound it round him was stuck the tomahawk and scalping knife of an Indian. His rifle stood in one corner of the room. On his head he wore a fur cap, as usual, and a pouch and powder horn, with moccasins on his feet, completed his equipment. "Well, general," he said, turning to Lord H----, "I saw some of your people as I came up the river. There had been a fuss about batteaux, but I showed them how they could find some, for a set of knaves, more French than English at their hearts, had drawn a crowd of them up the creek. So Abercrombie and the rest are all up at Fort Edward by this time." Lord H---- looked toward Mr. Prevost, but he was still in thought, and only roused himself to lead the way into the hall to breakfast. Woodchuck ate heartily; but to touch a single mouthful was a hard task for the other three. While still at the table, however, the sound of horses' feet galloping up to the door was heard, and Lord H----, starting up, looked out of the window. There were a young officer and a trooper of dragoons at the door; and the moment the former saw Lord H---- he handed him in a letter by the window, dismounting and entering the moment after, himself. By this time the despatch had been read by the young nobleman and Mr. Prevost, and the latter exclaimed: "This is most unfortunate! An immediate recall, Edith! We must not delay a moment, for the march commences to-morrow at daybreak! Get ready as fast as possible, my love. We will see you safely to Colonel Schneider's, and then gallop back to the fort." "Excuse me for observing," said the young officer, "that the order is peremptory. Of course, his lordship will judge for himself, but I only follow General Abercrombie's commands in saying that he wishes not a moment's delay." "But my daughter, sir, my daughter!" said Mr. Prevost. The young gentleman bowed stiffly, but made no answer, and the countenance of Lord H---- was very grave. "Surely," said Mr. Prevost, "'twould be no great disobedience of orders to see my daughter safely to the house of my friend, Colonel Schneider, a distance of not more than six miles?" "Which would take nearly two hours to go and come," said the young officer, drily, "at least over roads such as these. But you and his lordship are the best judges. I do not presume to dictate, and only convey to you the commander-in-chief's orders." "Leave her to my care, Prevost," said Woodchuck, starting up. "I will see her safe. It's all in my way. Some of the servants can go with us, and there is no danger." "I am in no fear, indeed, my dear father," said Edith. "Do not risk a censure. I shall be quite safe with our friend here." "I believe, indeed, you will," said Lord H----; "otherwise I should be tempted to disobey, myself. But the terms of this despatch are so pressing that unless there were immediate and positive peril I think we are bound to return to camp at once." He spoke aloud, and very gravely; but then, advancing to Edith's side, he added a few words in a lower tone. Mr. Prevost walked up and joined in their conversation, a sufficient indication, it might have seemed, that they wished for a few moments' privacy. Woodchuck understood, and advanced quietly to the door, for natural delicacy of feeling is but the reality of that of which politeness is the shadow. But the young officer, who was of that coarse, common stuff of which martinets are ultimately made, still kept his ground, till Lord H----, somewhat provoked, turned round and said: "Captain Lumley, you will have the goodness to return to headquarters, and inform the commander-in-chief that his orders shall be peremptorily obeyed." The young man paused a moment, with a look of surprise and discontent, and a moment or two after, when he passed Woodchuck at the door of the house, he was muttering: "Without asking me to take any refreshment." His murmurs were, perhaps, natural; for those who concede least to the feelings of others invariably exact most for their own. It is true that Lord H----, occupied with thoughts that engrossed him altogether, dismissed the aide-de-camp without remembrance of his needs, as well as without any feeling of resentment, and omitted a courtesy which no resentment, assuredly, could have curtailed. But the young man, swelling with indignation and offended dignity, mounted sullenly, and proceeded but slowly on his way. He had not gone one-half the distance, however, between Mr. Prevost's house and Fort Edward, when Lord H---- and the commissary passed him at great speed; and he did not reach headquarters till half an hour after they had announced their own return. <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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