“Good to begin well, better to end well.”
What was next to be done was as puzzling to our friends as the passage of that classic trio, the fox, the goose, and the corn, was to our childish ingenuity. Duty and safety were involved in Linwood’s return to the American camp with all possible expedition. General Washington was at Morristown, and the American army was going into winter quarters in its immediate vicinity. Thither Linwood must go, and so thought Lady Anne must she. “Fate,” she said, “had seconded her inclinations, and to contend against their united force was impossible; why should she not give her hand to Herbert at once and be happy, instead of returning to vex and be vexed by her disappointed aunt? After they had made sure of happiness and Heaven’s favour, for Heaven would smile on the union of true and loving hearts, let the world gossip to its heart’s content about Linwood running off with an heiress; he who was so far above a motive so degrading and soul-sacrificing, could afford the imputation of it, and would soon outlive it.” There was both nature and truth in her reasoning, and it met with her lover’s full and irrepressible sympathy; with Isabella’s too, but not with her acquiescence.
Poor Isabella! it was hard for one who had her keen participation in the happiness of others to oppose it, and to hazard by delay the loss of its richest materials. There was an earnest seconding of their entreaties, too, from a voice in the 424secret depths of her heart, which whispered that Eliot Lee was at Morristown; but what of that? ay, Isabella, what of that? Once at Morristown, her return to the city might be indefinitely delayed; innumerable obstacles might interpose, and to return to her father was an imperative and undeferable duty. To permit Lady Anne to proceed without her would be to expose her to gossip and calumny. Isabella’s was the ruling spirit; and after arguments, entreaties, and many tears on the lady’s part, the lovers deferred to the laws of propriety as expounded by her; and it was agreed that Linwood should escort the ladies to the outskirts of the Dutch village of Bergen, which could not be more than two or three miles distant; that there they should part, and thence the means of returning to the city without an hour’s delay might easily be compassed.
Accordingly, two hours before daylight, they set forth, following, through obscure and devious foot-paths, the general direction of Bergen. Miranda truly says, “it is the good-will to the labour that makes the task easy.” Lady Anne had no goodwill to hers, and her footsteps were feeble and faltering. The day dawned, the sun rose, and as yet they saw no landmarks to indicate the vicinity of Bergen. Herbert feared they had missed their way; but without communicating his apprehensions, he proposed the ladies should take shelter in a log-hut they had reached, and which he thought indicated the proximity of a road, while he went to reconnoitre.
He had been gone half an hour, when Isabella and Lady Anne were startled by the firing of guns. They listened breathlessly. The firing was repeated, but unaccompanied by the sound of voices, footsteps, or the trampling of horses.
“It is not near,” said Isabella to her little friend, who had clasped her hands in terror; “Herbert will hear it and return to us, and we are quite safe here.”
425“Yes; but if he is taken—murdered, Isabella? Oh, let us go and know the worst.”
“It would be folly,” replied Isabella, “to expose ourselves, and risk the possibility of missing Herbert; but if you will be quiet, we will creep up to that eminence,” pointing to a hill before them; “if it is cleared on the other side, we may see without being seen.”
They forthwith mounted the hill, which presented a view of an open country, traversed by several cross-roads. The point where they intersected, a quarter of a mile distant, at once fixed their gaze. A party of some thirty Americans, part mounted and part on foot, were engaged in a hot contest with more than an equal number of the enemy. Lady Anne grasped Isabella’s arm, both were silent for a moment, when a cry burst from Lady Anne’s lips, “It is—it is he!”
“Who? where—what mean you?”
“Your brother, Isabella!—there, the foremost! on the black horse!”
“It is he! God have mercy on us!—and there is Eliot Lee!”
Lady Anne’s eye was riveted to Linwood. “There are three upon him,” she screamed; “fly, fly!—Oh, why does he not fly?”
“He fights bravely,” cried Isabella, covering her eyes. “Heaven aid you, my brother!”
“It’s all over,” shrieked Lady Anne.
Isabella looked again. Herbert’s horse had fallen under him. “No, no,” she cried; “he lives! he is rising!”
“But they are rushing on him—they will cut him to pieces!”
Isabella sprang forward, as if she would herself have gone to his rescue, exclaiming—“My brother, Herbert—Oh, Eliot has come to his aid! God be praised!—See, Anne!—look 426up. Now they fight side by side!—Courage, courage, Anne! Mercy upon us, why does Eliot Lee turn back?”
“Oh, why does not Herbert turn too? if he would but fly while he can!”
“Ah, there he comes!” exclaimed Isabella, without heeding her companion’s womanly wish, “urging forward those men from behind the wagons—On, on, good fellows! Ah, that movement is working well—see, see; the enemy is disconcerted! they are falling back! thank God, thank God! See what confusion they are in; they are running, poor wretches; they are falling under that back fire!”
The flying party had taken a road which led to an enclosed meadow, and they were soon stopped by a fence. This opposed a slight obstacle, but it occasioned delay. The Americans were close upon them; they turned, threw down their arms, and surrendered themselves prisoners.
Shortly after, Eliot Lee, his face radiant with a joy that fifty victories could not have inspired, stood at the entrance of the log-hut, informing the ladies that Linwood had confided them to his care; Linwood himself having received a wound, which, though slight, unfitted him for that office, and rendered immediate surgical aid desirable to him. His friend had bidden him say to Miss Linwood that they had wandered far from Bergen; and that as they could not now get there without the danger of encountering parties of the enemy, nothing remained but to accept Captain Lee’s protection to Morristown.
“Do you hesitate now, Isabella?” asked Lady Anne, impatiently.
“No, my dear girl, there is now no choice for us.”
“Thank Heaven for that. Nothing but necessity would conquer you, Isabella.” The necessity met a very willing submission from Isabella; and she was half inclined to acquiesce in a whispered intimation from Lady Anne, “that it was undoubtedly 427the will of Heaven they should go to Morristown.” They were soon seated in a wagon, and proceeding forward, escorted by Eliot and a guard, and hearing from him the following explanation of his most fortunate meeting with Linwood.
Eliot Lee had been sent by Washington, with wagons, and a detachment of chosen men, to afford a safe convoy for some important winter-stores that had been run across from New-York to the Jersey shore for the use of the officers’ families at Morristown. In the meantime, a vigilant enemy had sent an intimation of the landing of these stores, and of their destination, to the British station at Powles Hook, and a detachment of men had been thence despatched with the purpose of anticipating the rightful proprietors.
Eliot, on his route, encountered one of the enemy’s videttes, whom he took prisoner, and who, to baffle him, told him the stores were already at Powles Hook. Eliot, warily distrusting the information, proceeded, and directly after, and just as he came in view of the enemy’s party, he met Herbert issuing from the wood. A half moment’s explanation was enough. The vidette was dismounted, Herbert put in his place, armed with his arms, and a golden opportunity afforded (to which the brave fellow did full justice), to win fresh laurels wherewith to grace his return to the dreaded, and yet most desired, presence of his commander.