Part 18 (1/2)
'Twas, after all, a most natural request. A brother may wish to speak to his sister in private, and 'tis more fitting to put a gentleman than a lady to the trouble of an absence. Seeing it thus, and speaking with recovered composure as if nothing were wrong, the captain courteously replied:
”Most certainly. Mr. Russell, after you, sir--nay, no precedence to rank, while we are simply private gentlemen.”
He bowed low to Margaret, and we two rode out to the highway, there to pace our horses up and down within call. Of what pa.s.sed between brother and sister, I afterward received a close account.
”I must have a straight answer,” Tom began, ”for I must not be put to the folly of acting without cause. Tell me, then, upon your honour, has there been reason between you and Captain Falconer for me to fight him? The truth, now! Of course, I shall find another pretext. It looks a thousand to one, there's reason; but I must be sure.”
”Why, I think you have lost your wits, Tom,” said she. ”If a gentleman known to the family happens to meet me when I ride out, and we chance to talk--”
”Ay, but in such a private place, and in such familiar tones, when you scarce ever converse together at home, and then in the most formal way! Oh, sister, that it should come to this!”
”I say, you're a fool, Tom! And a spy too--d.o.g.g.i.ng my footsteps! What right have you to call me to account?”
”As your brother, of course.”
”My younger brother you are; and too young to understand all you see, for one thing, or to hold me responsible to you for my actions, for another.”
”I understand when your honour calls for my actions, however! Your very anger betrays you. I will kill Falconer!”
”You'll do nothing of the kind!”
”You shall see! I know a brother's duties--his rights, by heaven!”
”A brother has no duties nor rights, concerning a sister who is married.”
”Then, if not as your brother, I have as your husband's friend. For, by G.o.d, I _am_ Phil's friend, to the death; and while he's not here to see what's pa.s.sing, I dare act on his behalf. If I may not have a care of my sister's honour, I may of Philip Winwood's! And now I'll go to your captain!”
”But wait--stay, Tom--a moment, for G.o.d's sake! You're mistaken, I tell you. There's naught against Philip Winwood's honour in my meeting Captain Falconer. We have conferences, I grant. But 'tis upon a matter you know nothing of--a matter of the war.”
”What nonsense! To think I should believe that! What affair of the war could you have to do with? It makes me laugh!”
”I vow there's an affair I have to do with. What do you know of my secrets, my planning and plotting? 'Tis an affair for the royal cause, I'll tell you that much. Nay, I'll tell you all; you won't dare betray it--you'd be a traitor to the king if you did. You shall be let into it, you and Bert. Call back Captain Falconer and him.”
Puzzled and incredulous, but glad to test any a.s.sertion that might clear his sister of the suspicion most odious, Tom hallooed for us.
When we re-entered the glade, Margaret spoke ere any one else had time for a word:
”Captain Falconer, I think you'll allow me the right to admit these gentlemen into the secret of our interviews. They are both loyal, both so dear to me that I'd gladly have them take a part in the honour of our project--of which, heaven knows, there'll be enough and to spare if we succeed.”
”Madam,” said he, ”its chance of success will be all the greater, for the partic.i.p.ation of these gentlemen.”
”Well?” said Tom, looking inquiringly at his sister.
”You promise your aid, then, both?” she asked.
”Let us hear it first,” he replied.
She obtained our a.s.surances of secrecy in any event, and proceeded:
”Everybody knows what this rebellion costs England, in money, men, and commerce; not to speak of the king's peace of mind, and the feelings of the nation. Everybody sees it must last well-nigh for ever, if it doesn't even win in the end! Well, then, think what it would mean for England, for the king, for America, if the war could be cut short by a single blow, with no cost; cut short by one night's courage, daring, and skill, on the part of a handful of men!”
Tom and I smiled as at one who dreams golden impossibilities.
”Laugh if you will,” said she; ”but tell me this: what is the soul of the rebellion? What is the one vital part its life depends on? The different rebel provinces hate and mistrust one another--what holds 'em together? The rebel Congress quarrels and plots, and issues money that isn't worth the dirty paper it's printed on; disturbs its army, and does no good to any one--what keeps the rebellion afoot in spite of it? The rebel army complains, and goes hungry and half-naked, and is full of mutiny and desertion--what still controls it from melting away entirely? What carries it through such Winters as the rebels had at Valley Forge, when the Congress, the army, and the people were all at sixes and sevens and swords' points? What raises money the Lord knows how, finds supplies the Lord knows where, induces men to stay in the field, by the Lord knows what means, and has got such renown the world over that now France is the rebels' ally? I make you stare, boys; you're not used to seeing me play the orator. I never did before, and I sha'n't again, for heaven forbid I should be a woman of that kind! But I've studied this matter, and I hope I have a few ideas upon it.”