"Therefore, it would be wise for you to treat us politely and not rail at us like a spoiled child. Our duty here is not of our own choosing, nor is it to our taste. No man desires to play jailer to any woman. But for the present it must be so. Therefore, as I say, it might prove more agreeable for all if you and Claudia observe toward us the ordinary decencies of polite usage!"
There was a silence. Lady Johnson"s back remained turned toward me; she was weeping.
Claudia took her hand and turned and looked at me with all the lively mischief, all the adorable impudence I knew so well:
"La, Mr. Drogue," says she mockingly, "some gentlemen are born so and others are made when made officers in armies. And captivity is irksome.
So, if your friends desire to pay their respects to us poor captives, I for one shall not be too greatly displeased----"
"Claudia!" cried Lady Johnson, "do you desire a dish of tea with tinkers and tin-peddlars?"
"I hear you, Polly," said she, "but prefer to hear you further after breakfast--which, thank G.o.d! I can now smell a-cooking." And, to me: "Jack, will you breakfast with us----"
She stopped abruptly: the door of Sir William"s gun room opened, and the Scottish girl, Penelope Grant, walked out.
"Lord!" said Claudia, looking at her in astonishment. "And who may you be, and how have you come here?"
"I am Penelope Grant," she answered, "servant to Douw Fonda of Caughnawaga; and I came last night with Mr. Drogue."
The perfect candour of her words should have clothed them with innocence. And, I think, did so. Yet, Claudia shot a wicked look at me, which did not please me.
But I ignored her and explained the situation briefly to Lady Johnson, who had turned to stare at Penelope, who stood there quite self-possessed in her shabby dress of gingham.
There was a silence; then Claudia asked the girl if she would take service with her; and Penelope shook her head.
"I pay handsomely, and I need a clever wench to care for me," insisted Claudia; "and by your fine, white hands I see you are well accustomed to ladies" needs. Are you not, Penelope?"
"I am servant to Douw Fonda," repeated the girl. "It would not be kind in me to leave him who offers to adopt me. Nor is it decent to abandon him in times like these."
Lady Johnson came forward slowly, her tear-marred eyes clearing.
"My brother, Stephen, has spoken of you. I understood him to say that you are the daughter of a Scottish minister. Is this true?"
"Yes, my lady."
"Then you are no servant wench."
"I serve."
"Why?"
"My parents are dead. I must earn my bread."
"Oh. You have no means to maintain you?"
"None, madam."
"How long have you been left an orphan?"
"These three years, my lady."
"You came from Scotland?"
"From France, my lady."
"How so?"
"My father preached to the exiled Scots who live in Paris. When he was dying, I promised to take ship and come to America, because, he said, only in America is a young girl safe from men."
"Safe?" quoth Claudia, smiling.
"Yes, madam."
"Safe from what, child?"
"From the unlawful machinations of designing men, madam. My father told me that men hunt women as a sport."
"Oh, la!" cried Claudia, laughing; "you have it hind end foremost! Man is the hunted one! Man is the victim! Is it not so, Jack?"--looking so impudently at me that I was too vexed to smile in return, but got very red and gazed elsewhere.
"And what did you then, Penelope Grant?" inquired Lady Johnson, with a soft sort of interest which was natural and unfeigned, she having a gentle heart and tender under all her pride and childishness.
"I took ship, my lady, and came to New York."
"And then?"
"I went to Parson Gano in his church,--who was a friend to my father, though a Baptist. I was but a child, and he cared for me for three years. But I could not always live on others" bounty; so he yielded to my desires and placed me as servant to Douw Fonda, who was at that time visiting New York. And so, when Mr. Fonda was ready to go home to Caughnawaga, I accompanied him."
"And are his aid and crutch in his old age," said Lady Johnson, gently.
"What wonder, then, he wishes to adopt you, Penelope Grant."
"If you will be my companion," cried Claudia, "I shall dare adopt you, pretty as you are--and risk losing every lover I possess!"
The Scottish girl"s brown eyes widened at that; but even Lady Johnson laughed, and I saw the loveliest smile begin to glimmer on Penelope"s soft lips.
"Thank heaven for a better humour in the house," thought I, and was pleased that Claudia had made a gayety of the affair.
I went to the window and looked out. Smoke from the camp fires of the Continentals made a haze all along the reedy waterfront. I saw their sentries walking their posts; heard the noise of their axes in the bush; caught a glimpse of my own men lying in the orchard on the new gra.s.s, and Nick cooking jerked meat at a little fire of coals, which gleamed in the gra.s.s like a heap of dusty jewels.
And, as I stood a-watching, I felt a touch at my elbow, and turned to face the girl, Penelope.
"Your promise, sir," she said. "You have not forgotten?"
"No," I replied, flushing again under Claudia"s mocking gaze. "But you should first eat something."
"And you, also," said Lady Johnson, coming to me and laying both hands upon my shoulders.
She looked into my eyes very earnestly, very sadly.
"Forgive me, Jack," she said.