CHAPTER XXI
AGAIN THE CELLAR-ROOM
The father sank back in his chair, breathing heavily.
"Eric here, making use of this house, and my servants," he muttered. "I can scarcely believe it true. Was--was he here yesterday morning when you came?"
"I found no trace of his presence, sir."
There was a moment of silence, broken unexpectedly by the rustle of a dress. I turned in surprise, and saw Claire standing quietly in the doorway.
"Pardon me, gentlemen," she said softly, "but perhaps I can explain much of this mystery, and establish the ident.i.ty of Major Lawrence."
Seldon sprang forward and offered her a chair, but she merely thanked him with a bow, and remained standing, her eyes upon her father. Not once had she even glanced toward either Grant or me, but I noticed the deep flush of color on cheek evidencing her excitement. What was she going to explain? How account for the strange actions of the past few days? How came she to be here at all? Would she confess the truth openly before us all, or would she feel justified in concealment? I could not, did not, doubt the honesty of the girl's intent, and yet was it possible for her to compel these men to accept her version of all which had occurred?
Would she venture a falsehood to protect me, or to save herself?
"I--I have already explained much," I hastened to say, thinking she might wish to know.
"I overheard what has already been said," she returned quickly, but without looking toward me, "and appreciate the care with which my name has thus far been guarded. Now I am ready to make my own explanation."
"But, first, Claire," said her father soberly, "how does it happen you are here? We supposed you in the hands of 'Red' f.a.gin, and a squadron of my men are out now tracking the fellows."
"I was not in the house when they came, father; Peter and I were back of the stables, fortunately mounted. We were obliged to ride hard as we were chased several miles, and returned as soon as it appeared safe."
"And Eric?"
"He departed before Captain Grant arrived," she replied unhesitatingly, "and must be already safe within his own lines."
"It was Eric, then?"
"Who else could it be? Surely Captain Grant told you as much."
The Colonel's eyes wandered about the little group, and his doubt and bewilderment were clearly evident.
"Do you know Eric's purpose in coming here? in presuming to act as an officer in Delavan's company?"
"He did not inform me, sir."
"You know this man?"
She turned, and looked at me for the first time, a silent plea in her blue eyes.
"I do--he is Major Lawrence of General Washington's army," her voice low, but distinct. "I have known him since the Continental troops were first quartered in Philadelphia."
I started slightly, yet as instantly recovered my outward composure, realizing that this strange girl again purposed protecting me from exposure, even at the expense of a falsehood.
"Indeed; you were doubtless aware then that he was within Sir Henry Clinton's lines as a spy?"
"Far from it," she laughed easily, not glancing toward me, but permitting her eyes to rest upon the bewildered face of Captain Grant. "Why, that idea is perfectly absurd. Did you tell my father so ridiculous a story, Captain?"
"Did I! What else could I say?" he growled indignantly. "He was within our lines in British uniform."
Her long lashes veiled the blue depths modestly.
"Yet there might be other reasons for such masquerade, gentlemen," she confessed. "Would it be impossible, think you, that he should have taken so great a risk to again meet with me?"
There was a silence following the simple question, broken by Seldon's laugh, as he slapped his knee in appreciation.
"Good enough, by Gad!" he exclaimed heartily. "The la.s.s has cleared the mystery with a word. The fellow would be a poor soldier indeed to fail in such a test--eh, Grant?"
The Ranger scowled at him in sullen response, his face dark with pa.s.sion.
"h.e.l.l's acre! This sort of thing may touch your humor, but not mine. What is the meaning of your words, Mistress Claire? Are you shameless, forgetting the pledge between us?"
She turned her face toward him as a queen might, her head held high, her cheeks flaming.
"You have had your answer once for all, Captain Grant. There is no pledge between us."
"But, daughter," broke in the Colonel, still bewildered by this sudden explosion. "I can scarcely comprehend; surely it was understood that you were affianced to this son of an old neighbor."
"Understood, yes, by those who kindly arranged the affair, but the fact that I might possess a heart of my own was entirely overlooked. As a child I permitted you to plan my future without protest. I am a woman now; I have been out in the world; the war has taken all girlhood from me. If this were not true the way Captain Grant has watched my every action in Philadelphia would have disgusted me with the thought of ever intrusting my happiness to him. He has openly quarrelled with every man I have spoken to, or danced with. He has made me the sport of all the city gallants by jealous wrangling. Now it is done with. 'Tis in shame that I am driven to say all this here in presence of these gentlemen, but I will not stand in silence while Major Lawrence is being condemned as a spy. He was at the dance to meet again with me, and for no other purpose."
Colonel Mortimer's face had expressed many emotions, while she was speaking, but now it hardened into military severity, his hand clinched on the arm of the chair.
"Do I understand then that this officer was there at your request?"
"I think," hesitating slightly, "he knew he was not unwelcome."
"And," his voice breaking slightly, "he came here also to meet you?"
"Certainly not," her head lifting indignantly. "I am your daughter, and am guilty of nothing unworthy our family name. I have no shame to confess. Major Lawrence is an officer and a gentleman, the friend of Washington, and my friend also. At any other time he would be a welcome guest at our table. If he risked his life to meet with me in Philadelphia it was done openly and honorably in the midst of acquaintances. There has been nothing hidden or clandestine. He was brought to Elmhurst a prisoner, bound to his horse, guarded by armed men. In the morning I learned his ident.i.ty, and at once had him released. That is all," and she gave a gesture with her hands, "and I trust, gentlemen, my explanation will be sufficient."
"And you warned him of my suspicions in Philadelphia," exclaimed Grant, "causing him to attack me, and then released him from arrest here."
"That is partially true; you endeavored to provoke a quarrel the moment you met. I had no desire he should fall into your hands as a prisoner.
When you appeared at this house I a.s.sisted his escape."
"But, Claire, how came you here? Why did you leave Philadelphia?"
"Because I have a brother, sir, whom I can only meet in secret," she replied quietly. "I came without thought of danger, for war has not cost us friends in this country; our home has remained until now untouched by vandals, and I felt amply protected by those who accompanied me upon the ride--our old house servants." She knelt at the side of his chair, her head bowed upon its arm, and his hand stroked her hair. "I regret if I have seemed unmaidenly, or done what you may deem wrong, father, for it has all seemed right to me."
The Colonel looked at us silently for what seemed a long while, his fingers fondling the tresses of the girl's hair.
"This situation leaves me in an embarra.s.sing predicament," he admitted at last slowly. "I hardly know what is my duty either as a father, or an officer of the King. No matter what his purpose may have been this man penetrated our lines in disguise; he admittedly exercised command of those irregulars who attacked and routed Delavan's column, and has since been prowling about disguised as a countryman. Merely because my daughter confesses to a friendship between them can hardly justify me in setting him at liberty."
He paused, rising to his feet, his eyes on my face. The girl lifted her head, looking up at him.