Maid Sally Part 22

"No good," answered the first man; "but it was a dirty piece of work at best. I would that Sir Percival could have found another way of keeping back his young son. Strange it were to spirit away the lad in that style. He really thought he was showing us the way, not seeing the colors we wore until too late."

"My Fairy Prince!" gasped Maid Sally, "my Fairy Prince!"

"Make no more talk," said the third man, stoutly. "No harm hath been done, no harm whatever! And well paid are we to be. The lad will simply be detained until too late to join his comrades, a matter of two days or so."

"I half fear me the sharp wits of the lad will find him a way of escape," said the first speaker, "and he is but six hours' ride from Pamunkey turnpike, where the others will ride at noon to-morrow."

"Aha!" said the third man, "but Farmer Hinds will watch him well. His reward will sharpen his eyes, no doubt."

"He would be all right could he but get a horse," said the first man.

"And no horse will he get within miles of Darius Hinds's old farm place for days to come," said the second man. "Plenty of oxen, but never a horse or a mule. But come on! Tired out I am. Our work is done. And no one knoweth aught, except that the pert young plotter Bromfeld was told that, at the last moment, Sir Percival Grandison's upstart warrior had changed his mind and started on a little journey."

CHAPTER XIX.

ONE NIGHT

Home went Maid Sally, head down, heart full. She knew the whole story.

What should she do? Tell Parson Kendall, and let him fly to the rescue?

Then might the king's men interfere, and great trouble come to the good parson.

Ah! she knew what to do. Find Reginald Bromfeld, and let the gay troop pa.s.s that way on the morrow and release their comrade. That they could easily do, even should it take a little time.

She went home to her supper, and then, saying she would take a walk, started for the Widow Bromfeld's, about a mile away. When near the place she met an old colored uncle, and asked where she might find Master Reginald Bromfeld.

"Nowhar," answered the old man. "He done gone with young Mars' Sutcliff, Mars' Byrd, Mars' Spottswood, Mars' Norris, and Mars' Culpeper for Bosting town, an' only de good Lawd know whedder any ob em ebber come walkin' back alibe."

"When did they go?" panted Sally.

"Two hour ago, missy. For some reason 'bout gettin' guns, dey mus' stop on de way. But dey all gets to de big turnpike to-morr' noon. Den dey cuts fo' Bosting."

Sally turned back, and, walking briskly, was soon at home and in her room. While it was still early she went to bed.

But sleep was as far from the maiden's eyes as though such a thing had never been known. Her Fairy Prince had been trapped, gently it was true, yet trapped, and led off where he would be watched, and not be able to meet his friends until too late to join in the great battle they felt was near at hand.

"And he is at the farm of Darius Hinds, six hours from Pamunkey turnpike," she said, as if repeating a well-learned lesson.

When she laid herself down that night, Sally had felt almost sure that there was no help for her poor Prince. The times were dangerous. To tell what she knew might make strife right in their midst. She was afraid for others, but never for herself.

As the clock on the stairs struck eleven, she heaved a great sigh. "If I could only help him!" she cried, softly, to herself.

"I _will_ help him!" she cried again, "I will."

Then she paused in self-surprise.

"What is there inside me," she asked, "that leaps up with such strength whenever I say 'I will?' And what makes me say it? Have I strange, hardy blood in my veins making me want to fight? I do want to fight! They tell that boys twelve years of age are shouldering guns and rus.h.i.+ng into battle at Boston. A gun I would shoulder this very night and march forth to fight those redcoats were I a boy. I am but a maid of fourteen years, but something I would gladly do for my country, and, alas! for my Fairy Prince."

She put her red-gold head down on her arms, which were folded across her knees as she sat up in bed, and for several moments she neither spoke nor stirred.

All at once, as though some one had touched a match to a pouch of powder, up she started, her eyes wild with excitement.

"I have it!" she exclaimed, springing softly to the floor, "I have it!

May I but have the luck I crave, and my Dream Prince shall go free!"

What she meant to do her red lips did not utter. But she dressed plainly and carefully, and from a drawer she took a piece of black lace and wound it about her head and over her forehead.

Down-stairs she crept, and in the porch put on a long, straight coat worn by the parson when for exercise he worked in the garden, and on her head she put an old straw hat with a broad rim, half shading her face.

Then she pa.s.sed out at a rear door that was not locked, and walked into the road with a long, careless stride.

The colored boys were often thus seen going from place to place late at night. And with her goldy hair pressed under the dark lace, her face partly covered by the big hat, and the coat closely b.u.t.toned and reaching nearly to her heels, Sally might well have been taken for a tall boy bound on an errand, or striding homeward from a late dance.

She made straight for Ingleside, reaching it from the parson's at a point below the stables, and, oh, joy! she nearly cried out with delight.

Hotspur was tethered in a square paddock, well behind the stables, Sampson, or "Samp," an enormous watch-dog who would have let no stranger approach, beside him. But Samp she knew well, and quieted him with a soft word.

What made Sally so sure that she could ride a great fiery horse she could not have told, but some natures there are so fearless and yet so sweet that animals will follow them wherever they may lead.

And when Maid Sally went up to Hotspur and drew down the beautiful short head and patted and pinched the soft nose, then, letting down a couple of bars and pulling at the bridle, led him over the thick turf, the great creature followed with slow, silent tread as the brave young girl went out into the back road. Samp went back as he was bidden, obedient as a child.

On went Sally, her heart thumping lest some one should hear and sharply order her back.

At a little distance she led Hotspur to a stile, and climbing up, still holding the bridle, she mounted without accident.

"Now up and away, Hotspur!" she cried, pressing her feet to the powerful sides. And up and away it was!

For Sally neither drew rein, nor did Hotspur once break his long, splendid stride until nearly an hour had pa.s.sed.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "FOR SALLY NEITHER DREW REIN NOR DID HOTSPUR ONCE BREAK HIS LONG, SPLENDID STRIDE."]

Sally had noted the direction from which the three hors.e.m.e.n had come in the afternoon. She knew also that Pamunkey turnpike was almost a day's journey from Williamsburg.

Fully four hours must she ride before going half the distance. But the stage-wagon was slow compared to Hotspur's fleet hoofs.

The meeting-house clock had struck twelve as she rode through the town, and now it must be about one. But a single help could she have to guide her, and she said to herself:

"Well it is that Parson Kendall hath taught me somewhat about the stars.

I must keep the big dipper directly before me or I shall alter my course. Pamunkey turnpike lieth before me as the crow flies. Often enough have I heard that."

As if her own voice was like company, she asked:

"Now, good Fairy, what must I do?"

And she pretended her Fairy made answer: