A Captured Santa Claus Part 4

Bob, who was working in front of the hall-fire, went to the door. His mother heard him answer doubtfully some question. She opened the door of her chamber and went out into the hall. A stranger with a large bundle or pack on his back stood on the threshold. His clothes were shabby and old, his hat, which was still on his head, was pulled down over his eyes, and he wore a beard.

"An', leddy, wud ye bay so koind as to shelter a poor sthranger for a noight at this blissed time of pace and good-will?" he said, in a strong Irish brogue.

"Certainly," said Mrs. Stafford, with her eyes fixed on him. She moved slowly up to him. Then, by an instinct, quickly lifting her hand, she pushed his hat back from his eyes. Her husband clasped her in his arms.

"My darling!"

Bob, with a cry, seized him. "I knew you'd come, father," he said.

"They all said you would," declared Mrs. Stafford.

"Well, I _had_ to come. I had given my word," said Colonel Stafford, smiling.

The Colonel was borne into the hall.

A little later the pack was opened, and such a treasure-house of toys and things was displayed as surely never greeted any other eyes. The smaller children, including Ran, were not awakened, at their father's request, though Mrs. Stafford wished to wake them to see him. But Bob was let into the secrets, except that he was not permitted to see a small package which bore his name. Mrs. Stafford and the Colonel were like two children themselves as they "tipped" about, stuffing the long stockings with candy and toys. The beautiful doll with flaxen hair, all arrayed in silk and lace, was seated, last of all, securely on top of Evelyn's stocking, with her wardrobe just below her, where she would greet her young mistress when she should first open her eyes, and Charlie's little blue uniform was pinned beside the gray one his mother had made, with his sword buckled around the waist.

Bob was at last dismissed to his room, and the Colonel and Mrs.

Stafford settled themselves before the fire, hand in hand, to talk over the past.

They had hardly started, when Bob rushed down the stairs and dashed into their room.

"Papa! papa! the yard is full of Yankees!"

Both the Colonel and Mrs. Stafford sprang to their feet.

"Through the back door!" cried Mrs. Stafford, seizing her husband.

"He cannot get out that way--they are everywhere--all around the house; I saw them from my window," gasped Bob, just as the sound of trampling without came to their ears.

"Oh! what will you do! Those clothes! If they catch you in those clothes!" began Mrs. Stafford, and then stopped, her face growing ashy pale. Bob also turned even whiter than he had been before. He remembered the fate of the young man who was found in citizen's clothes in the autumn. He burst out crying. "Oh, papa! will they hang you?"

he sobbed.

"I hope not, my son," said the Colonel. "Certainly not if I can prevent it." A gleam of humor stole into his eyes. "It's an awkward fix, certainly," he added, gravely.

A number of footsteps sounded on the porch, and a thundering knock shook the door.

"You must conceal yourself," cried Mrs. Stafford. "Come here." She pulled him almost by main force into a closet or entry, and locked the door, just as the knocking was renewed. As the front door was apparently about to be broken down, she went out into the hall. Her face was deadly white, and her lips were moving in prayer.

"Who's there?" she called, tremblingly, trying to gain time.

"Open the door immediately, or it will be broken down," replied a stern voice.

She turned the great iron key in the heavy, old, bra.s.s lock, and a dozen men pushed into the hall. They all waited for one, a tall, elderly man in a general's fatigue-uniform, with a stern face and a grizzled beard. He addressed her.

"Madam, I have come to take possession of this house as my head-quarters."

Mrs. Stafford bowed, unable to speak. She was sensible of a feeling of relief; there was a gleam of hope. If they did not know of her husband's presence--? But the next word destroyed it.

"We have not interfered with you up to the present time, but you have been harboring a spy here, and he is here now."

"There is no spy here, and has never been," said Mrs. Stafford, with dignity. "But if there were, you should not know it from me. It is not the custom of our people to deliver up those who have sought their protection." She spoke with much spirit.

The officer removed his hat. His keen eye was fixed on her white face.

"We shall search the premises," he said, still sternly, but more respectfully than he had yet spoken. "Major, have the house thoroughly searched."

The men went striding off, opening doors and looking through the rooms.

The General took a turn up and down the hall. He walked up to a door.

"That is my chamber," said Mrs. Stafford, quickly.

The officer fell back. "It must be searched," he said.

"My little children are asleep in there," said Mrs. Stafford, her face quite white.

"It must be searched," repeated the General, more gently. "Either they must do it, or I. You can take your choice."

Mrs. Stafford stood aside and made a gesture of a.s.sent. She could not trust her voice. He opened the door and stepped across the threshold.

There he stopped. His eye took in the scene. Charlie was lying in the little trundle-bed in the corner, calm and peaceful, and by his side was Evelyn, her little face looking like a flower, lying in the tangle of golden hair which fell over her pillow. The noise disturbed her slightly, for she smiled suddenly, and muttered something about "Santa Tlaus" and a "dolly." The officer's gaze swept the room, and fell on the overcrowded stockings hanging from the mantel. He advanced to the fireplace and examined the doll and trousers closely. With a curious expression on his face he leant over and gazed earnestly down at the two little heads on their pillow. Then he turned and walked out of the room, closing the door softly behind him.

"Major," he said to the officer in charge of the searching party, who descended the stairs just then, "take the men back to camp, except the sentinels. There is no spy here."

In a moment Mrs. Stafford came out of her chamber. The old officer was walking up and down in deep thought. Suddenly, as the last soldier disappeared through the door, he turned to her: "Mrs. Stafford, be so kind as to go and tell Colonel Stafford that General Denby desires him to surrender himself."

Mrs. Stafford was struck dumb. She was unable to move or to speak.

"Kindly present my compliments and say he need not hurry; I shall wait for him," said the General, quietly, throwing himself into an arm-chair, and looking steadily into the fire.

VII

BOB SECURES A UNIFORM

As his father concealed himself, Bob had left the chamber. He was in a perfect agony of mind. He knew that his father could not escape, and if he were found dressed in citizen's clothes he felt that he could have but one fate. Once the men went toward the pa.s.sage that led through to the rear entry in which his father was concealed. Bob's heart stood still; but he acted quickly. He flung himself on the floor right in the entrance and began to work quietly by the dim firelight.

The searchers pa.s.sed by. All sorts of schemes for rescue entered his head. Suddenly he thought of a small group of prisoners he had seen pa.s.s by about dark. He had talked with one of them, a major. A guard said they were on their way to General Denby's camp. He would save him! Putting on his hat, he opened the front door and slipped out. A sentinel tramping up and down on the porch accosted him surlily to know where he was going.

"Won't you come in and get warm?" said Bob, hospitably.

"Can't. Wish I could. It's cold enough out here. Cold as th' State of Maine. I wish I was in old York right now by a good stove."

"I wish you were, too," said Bob, with sincerity.

"I'd give a mite to see that old white steeple again, and the moonlight on the snow stretching down toward the mill-pond; and hear the tide ripping in."

"What do you do with your prisoners when you catch them?" inquired Bob.

"Send some on to prison--and hang some."