Part 27 (1/2)

Mammy put her hand, edgewise, side of her mouth, and whispered, loudly:

”Sperrits, honey! Sperrits!”

Sally laughed and shook her s.h.i.+ning head.

”Oh, no, Mammy,” she said, her voice full and bubbling, ”no, no! spirits don't come with strong hands and feet and take a horse away. Bill had a nap, little Jule got easy, and you dozed, then some person led Hotspur away.”

Mammy looked carefully around, then said, with a twinkle in her eye:

”Ennyway, I'se glad dat boy get away. Dis yere war won't help de Inglish any. De ole king needn't tink he can put his big foot on de people's neck, and dey not kick back.

”Let Mars' Perc'val and Mistis Gran'son go back to Inglan' ef dey wants to. Dey soon come totin' back 'gain. And Mars' Lion, ef he is a young man, can run de place all it want to be run while dese times is goin'

on.”

So he was coming back! her Fairy Prince!--

”I must learn yet more,” said Maid Sally.

And so, while the dragon-fly buzzed in the hot summer sun, and the lazy breeze scarcely stirred the cobwebs strung from bush to bush, while the flaming poppies were seen through mists of heat, and the cattle stood knee-deep in the streams, Maid Sally studied, recited, sewed, picked over fruits, baked, and grew skilled both in pantry and in parlor.

Truly a little woman of the olden time.

Not often did the old-time parson freely praise any one. But Parson Kendall one day said to Sally:

”I deem it but just, Maid Sally Duquesne, to say that very n.o.bly hast thou done with thy lessons. Many a fine lady might well be proud could she stand by thy side, equal with thee in learning.”

And Sally could have hugged herself from very happiness.

Then came the cooler days of autumn. The cotton had burst its bolls, the sugar-cane given up its sweets, the tobacco was stored, the fruits preserved.

One fine day in November, Sally saw Hotspur go das.h.i.+ng by, her Fairy Prince holding the rein.

It was like a waft of new, sweet air thus to behold him. Too much a child of nature was Maid Sally to lose or cast aside the dearest fancy of her life as she grew older, and the Fairy Prince of poorer days was the Fairy Prince still in her deep young heart.

He was also her hero now. She had helped him do battle for his country and hers. He was her relation. What a secret to hug within her breast!

But now, hotter and hotter grew the news from all directions. Lord Dunmore, gone from Williamsburg, yet made mischief in other parts of Virginia.

And soon came reports of trouble from near Norfolk, south of Williamsburg.

Sir Percival Grandison, who yet lingered in his Virginia home, no longer tried to keep his young son from fighting with the ”rebels.”

There was in very truth something he kept very quiet about, in connection with the Boston affair.

And he was not surprised when, with young Spottswood, Norris, Byrd, and others, Lionel again mounted Hotspur and went clattering off toward Norfolk to see what trouble the British were making in that quarter.

One morning, when December was in its second week, Sally was in the wide kitchen plucking a goose, that she might learn how, when Parson Kendall came to the door, his wig somewhat awry, his face flushed with excitement, his manner hurried.