CORNELL 
 
 UNIVERSITY 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 GIFT OF 
 
 Misses Jane and Helen Meyei 
 
Cornell University Library 
 PS 3503.L22H55 
 
 A heroine of 1812 :a Maryland romance /b 
 
 3 1924 022 273 837 
 
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Cornell University 
 Library 
 
 The original of this book is in 
 the Cornell University Library. 
 
 There are no known copyright restrictions in 
 the United States on the use of the text. 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924022273837 
 
A Heroine of 1812. 
 
You'd do well to come out here. Aunt Martha. 
 
A Heroine of 1812 
 
 A Maryland Romance 
 
 BY 
 
 AMY E. BLANCHARD 
 
 Illustrated by Ida Waugh 
 
 $223 EZ£- 
 
 W. A. WILDE COMPANY 
 
 BOSTON CHICAGO 
 
Copyright, igoi, 
 
 By W. A. Wilde Company. 
 
 All rights reserved. 
 
 A Heroine of 1812. 
 
THE GRANDSON OF AN " OLD DEFENDER " 
 
 I LOVINGLY DEDICATE THIS STORY OF 
 
 HIS MARYLAND AND MINE 
 
 A. E. B. 
 
Contents. 
 
 CHAPTER I PAGE 
 
 When the Ship came in . . . .11 
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 The Work of a Mob 25 
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 On the Bay . . . ... 41 
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 The Earn Frolic 56 
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 Sojie Coquetries 71 
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 A Ball 86 
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 Captured 100 
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 First Blood . . . . , .115 
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 Love and Politics ...... 129 
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 Suspicions 144 
 
 7 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER XI page 
 
 An Interrupted Duel 161 
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 Escape 178 
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 Confidences 193 
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 " Sorrow an' Trouble " 209 
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 JUBAL 226 
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 
 A Time of Rest 244 
 
 CHAPTER XVII 
 
 A Day of Disaster 262 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 A Time of Dreadful Night .... 280 
 
 CHAPTER XIX 
 
 The Star-Spangled Banner .... 300 
 
 CHAPTER XX 
 
 Her Valentine 318 
 
Illustrations. 
 
 " ' You'd do well to come out here, Aunt Martha ' " . 
 
 Frontispiece 12 
 
 " ' It is plain to see why you like to come to market ' " . 30 
 
 " ' Come on,' she yelled " 123 
 
 "' What yuh doin' hyar dis time o' night ?' " . . .185 
 
 " ' How he has grown ! ' " 248 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 When the Ship Came In. 
 
 A WARM evening in early June of the year 
 18 1 2 showed the streets of Baltimore city 
 gay with groups of people crowding the steps of the 
 houses, or sauntering up and down from corner to 
 corner. Slender girls with arms around each other, 
 circles of children merrily piping out some ring-a- 
 round-a-rosy, young men stopping before this or that 
 door for a few minutes' chat, — all served to make a 
 lively scene. 
 
 Lettice Hopkins, in short-waisted gown of sprigged 
 muslin, stood with one slippered foot tapping impa- 
 tiently the marble step before her uncle's door. " Is 
 yuh see him, Miss Letty ? " asked a little colored boy 
 who stopped his occupation of sliding down the cellar 
 door to make his inquiry. 
 
 " No, I don't," Lettice returned petulantly, " and 
 11 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 poor old Mrs. Flynn is moaning and going on because 
 her Patrick is aboard the vessel, and she thinks he's 
 drowned. Run to the corner, Danny, and see if 
 there is a sign of your master." She sat down on 
 the step and looked anxiously in the direction of the 
 street corner toward which Danny was making his 
 way, taking time in doing so, and stopping frequently 
 to switch a chip from the running water in the gutter, 
 or to send a pebble hopping over the cobblestones. 
 
 " It certainly is warm for so early in June," Lettice 
 remarked, as she vigorously fanned herself. " You'd 
 do well to come out here, Aunt Martha," she con- 
 tinued, addressing some one in the hall behind her. 
 " There is a breath outside, but little indoors. Don't 
 you think uncle must be here soon? He surely can- 
 not be at the wharf all this time." 
 
 " Perhaps he is," her aunt answered. " It is a 
 week since the vessel was due, and in good weather 
 that is too long. It is nothing of a run from here to 
 Boston and back, and your uncle has reason to be 
 somewhat anxious, especially in these days." 
 
 "These days," Lettice repeated; "that is what 
 father is always saying, as if these were not good 
 enough days." 
 
 Mrs. Hopkins did not answer, but instead, asked, 
 " Where is your father ? " 
 
 12 
 
WHEN THE SHIP CAME IN. 
 
 " Down at the Fountain Inn, I suppose ; it is where 
 he always goes of an evening. They have a deal to 
 talk about, it seems, down there." 
 
 "They have, indeed, but isn't that your uncle 
 coming now ? " Mrs. Hopkins had come out upon the 
 step and was peering out into the dimly lighted 
 street. 
 
 "To be sure it is," Lettice replied. "I will go to 
 meet him, for Mr. Gilmore will stop him if I don't 
 get him over on this side the street." She started 
 off with rapid step, her light scarf floating from her 
 shoulders as she walked. 
 
 " She's in ! " shouted Danny, who came running on 
 ahead of his master. 
 
 At this news Lettice slackened her pace andwalked 
 soberly forward to meet her uncle. " Good news, I 
 hear, Uncle Tom," she said as she came up to him. 
 
 " Ye-es," he returned, " so far as I am concerned, 
 but — " 
 
 "What?" Lettice interrupted. "Hurry and tell 
 me, Uncle Tom. What's wrong? Did anything 
 happen to the vessel ? " 
 
 " Not to the vessel, except that she was stopped by 
 a British cruiser, and three of our men were carried 
 off as British subjects." 
 
 " Oh ! And who were they ? Not Patrick Flynn, 
 13 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 I hope. His mother declares that something has 
 happened to him, for she has had a certain dream 
 three nights in succession, — a dream which she insists 
 forebodes ill." 
 
 " Poor Patrick, indeed ; one of the best hands 
 aboard, and born on American soil, though his 
 brogue is rich enough for any son of the Emerald 
 Isle." 
 
 " Alas, poor Patrick ! Who will tell his mother ? " 
 
 " I will, of course," her uncle quietly replied. And 
 Lettice hesitating to enter the house, he passed in 
 before her, spoke a few words to his wife, and then 
 walked back to where a long garden showed borders 
 abloom with the roses of June glimmering faintly 
 from out the dusky green. 
 
 Presently arose sounds of wailing and lamenting, 
 and Lettice, unable to restrain her sympathies, rushed 
 back to see poor old Mrs. Flynn rocking back and 
 forth, wringing her hands, and making her moan 
 over the capture of her son. 
 
 "There, Winnie, there," Lettice heard her uncle 
 say. "After all, it is not as bad as it would 
 seem. Pat will find his way back, or I'm mis- 
 taken, and there are pienty of persons who will 
 tell you he should be proud to serve in the 
 British navy." 
 
 14 
 
WHEN THE SHIP CAME IN. 
 
 "Ah, but they'll be battherin' the life out av 
 'im, sorr, an' be markin' up his poor back wid the 
 cat, an' indade, sorr, I'm thinkin' he'd betther be 
 dead than alive." 
 
 "Pshaw! not a bit of it. Pat's too good a hand 
 for that, and Mr. Joe gave him a word to make no 
 cause for offence, but to do his duty by the ship he 
 is on, just the same as if she were the Delight." 
 
 "'Tis a hard day, sorr, when our min must be 
 dragged from their proper places an' be put to 
 wurruk for thim as has no right to be dhrivin' 
 thim. Not that I'm so down on the ould coun- 
 thry, sorr, but I'm not upholdin' thim British min 
 stealers, Misther Tom, sorr, an' it goes agin me 
 grain for a son o' mine to be slavin' for the inimy 
 av the counthry where he was born." 
 
 Lettice sat down on the step beside the old 
 woman and began softly to stroke the wrinkled 
 hand which was nervously fingering the hem of 
 Mrs. Flynn's gingham apron. " Never mind, Mrs. 
 Flynn," the girl said ; " it will be no time before 
 Patrick will be back again. Why, if he had gone 
 on a long cruise from this port, you'd not see him 
 for years, maybe, and this is no worse. Cheer up, 
 now. Ah, there is Cousin Joe. I'll bid him come 
 out here. I think my father is with him." 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 The two men approached, gesticulating excitedly. 
 " It is an outrage," Lettice's father was saying, 
 "and one that Americans will not stand much 
 longer. Odious servitude for our citizens ! im- 
 pressed into a service they despise! our commerce 
 impeded! insults, injuries of all kinds heaped upon 
 us I We will not stand it. There will be a war, 
 sir, for, as the wise Benjamin Franklin so aptly 
 said, 'Our War of Independence has yet to be 
 fought.' " 
 
 " Nonsense, William, what was our war of the 
 Revolution ? " put in Mr. Hopkins. 
 
 " It was the Revolution. We are not yet free, 
 if indignity can be offered us which we must 
 accept silently." 
 
 "Ah, Masther Joe, dear," whined Winnie, "ye 
 let thim steal me bhy." Joseph Hopkins, a tall 
 young fellow, sunburnt and stalwart, looked down 
 at her with kindly eyes. "Indeed, Winnie, I did 
 my best to save him and two others, but it was 
 no use." 
 
 "Tell us about it, Cousin Joe," said Lettice. 
 
 "I have told the tale more than once, cousin, 
 but since you and Winnie will likely give me no 
 peace till I tell it again, I'll spin you my yarn. 
 We were just turning into the bay, after having 
 
 16 
 
WHEN THE SHIP CAME IN. 
 
 had to go out of our way to escape from the 
 clutches of more than one British cruiser, when 
 we saw a sail which gave us chase, and though 
 the Delight was in her own waters, our pursuers 
 were within gunshot in a short time. Then they 
 demanded to search us for deserters. At first I 
 refused, as I knew father would have me do ; but 
 we were scarcely prepared to fight a ship of the 
 size . of the enemy, and discretion being the better 
 part of valor, and to save a whole skin for the 
 majority of my crew, at last it seemed best to 
 submit to the demand. So poor Patrick, Johnny 
 Carter, as good an Eastern-shoreman as ever lived, 
 and Dick Bump, who never saw the plank of a 
 British ship before, were carried off. Every 
 mother's son of them was born on American 
 soil, and they were claimed as British subjects. 
 It is an outrage! But trust to Pat, Mrs. Flynn, 
 he'll be with us again before long, or my name's 
 not Joe Hopkins. I saw Uncle Edward in Bos- 
 ton, mother," he went on to say, "and he prom- 
 ised to come on with the next ship." 
 
 Leaving Mrs. Flynn somewhat comforted, the 
 others took their way again to the front steps, 
 where the men plunged into a discussion of the 
 questions of the day, and Lettice, who cared little 
 
 *7 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 for letters-of-marque and general reprisals, sat 
 watching the passers-by, once in a while putting 
 a question when the talk became particularly 
 exciting. 
 
 She had come up from the Eastern shore of 
 Maryland but a few months before, and had 
 hardly yet become accustomed to life in a big 
 city, having always lived upon the plantation now 
 managed by her eldest brother. The marriage of 
 this big brother had eventually brought about the 
 change which made of Lettice a city girl, for her 
 father concluded to join his brother in Baltimore, 
 and Lettice must perforce accompany him. It 
 was not altogether a happy arrangement for the 
 girl ; her uncle's wife was a New England woman, 
 and did not understand her husband's light- 
 hearted little niece, over whom she was disposed 
 to exert an authority which Lettice, if she had 
 been less sweet-tempered, would have resented. 
 Then, too, Aunt Martha did not like negro ser- 
 vants, and Lettice knew no others. Nevertheless, 
 she made friends with old Mrs. Flynn, who 
 reigned over the kitchen, and the other maids did 
 not count, she told her father. 
 
 She sat on the step, her thoughts travelling to 
 her old home. How pleasant it must be there this 
 
WHEN THE SHIP CAME IN. 
 
 hot night, she reflected, with the bay in sight, and 
 the moon shining down upon it. She would like 
 to be dashing down the long level road upon her 
 pretty bay mare, and after a while to come in and 
 find Mammy waiting for her with some cooling drink, 
 and Lutie ready to undress her. She wished Aunt 
 Martha would let her have Lutie, or she wished her 
 father would let her keep house for him and have 
 the old servants about her. Perhaps he would in 
 another year, for she would be seventeen then. 
 
 She was aroused from her revery by her father 
 saying: "War? yes, war say I. Joe, I told you, 
 didn't I, of our meeting at Fountain Inn, and of 
 our resolutions upon the subject ? ' No alternative 
 between war and degradation ' we decided." 
 
 "Oh, father," put in Lettice, " is there really to 
 be war? I thought it was only talk." 
 
 "Pray God not. There's been too much talk; 
 now is the time for action." 
 
 " And shall you go and fight ? And Cousin Joe 
 and Uncle Tom, will they go too ? " 
 
 " If we are needed, yes. I can answer for all of 
 us." 
 
 Lettice slipped her arm across the back of her 
 father's chair. "Oh, father, dear, you'll not go and 
 leave me all alone?" 
 
 19 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 "Not all alone, with your Aunt Martha and the 
 servants," spoke up her Uncle Tom. 
 
 Lettice looked down a little confused, but her 
 Cousin Joe changed the subject by saying, "They 
 are not for war in Boston, Uncle William." 
 
 " So I am told ; and that Massachusetts, so valiant 
 in the Revolution, should be willing tamely to submit 
 to England's insults, is beyond my belief. I cannot 
 understand her indifference." 
 
 "A war with England would touch her pocket- 
 book too nearly," Joe replied, laughing. 
 
 "Yes, it would interfere with her trade, and she 
 has not the other resources that we have," said Mr. 
 Tom Hopkins, reflectively. " I suspect that you had 
 more than one controversy with Edward, Joe." 
 
 " That I did ; and he'll soon be on his way here 
 to resume the argument." 
 
 " Does he bring Rhoda with him ? " asked Mrs. 
 Hopkins. 
 
 "Yes, so he said." 
 
 " She'll be a companion for you, Lettice," said 
 Mrs. Hopkins. " She is but a year older. We 
 must try to keep her here for a good long visit. 
 I've not seen Rhoda for five years, but she was a 
 very good child then, and I have no doubt will be 
 a useful influence for you." 
 
 20 
 
WHEN THE SHIP CAME IN. 
 
 Lettice touched her cousin's arm. "Come, walk 
 to the corner with me," she said. " I'm tired of 
 sitting still, and you all talk nothing but politics." 
 
 "You'd rather the subject would be dress, I 
 fancy," Mrs. Hopkins remarked, with a little severity. 
 
 "To be sure I would," Lettice laughed, as she 
 walked off. "Sometimes I feel as if I must be 
 saucy to Aunt Martha," she said to her cousin. 
 " Tell me about Rhoda, Cousin Joe. Is she pretty ? 
 What does she look like ? " 
 
 " She is fair, with light hair and blue eyes. She is 
 rather slight, and is quiet in her manner. She does 
 not talk very much unless she is deeply interested, 
 and then she is very earnest." 
 
 "Then there will be a chance for my chatter," 
 returned Lettice, the dimples showing around her 
 rosy mouth. " Does she wear her hair in curls, as 
 I do, Cousin Joe ? " 
 
 "No, she wears it quite plainly." 
 
 "And is she tall?" 
 
 "Yes, rather so." 
 
 "Taller than I?" 
 
 " Yes ; you are not above what I should call 
 medium height." 
 
 " I may grow." 
 
 " True ; there is time for that." 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 " Should you like me better then ? " Lettice gave 
 a side glance, and then dropped her curly black lashes 
 over her big blue eyes. 
 
 Her cousin laughed. "You would coquet even 
 with me, I verily believe ; with me, who am as good 
 as married." 
 
 The violet eyes opened wide. "I am not trying 
 to at all. Would I coquet with my blood cousin, 
 who, moreover, is a double cousin ? " 
 
 " Perhaps not, if you could help it ; but you do 
 coquet even with Pat Flynn." 
 
 "Now, Cousin Joe, you are trying to tease me." 
 
 "And with Mrs. Flynn," Joe continued, "and 
 your father and your brothers." 
 
 " My brothers — That reminds me, Cousin Joe, 
 that if there is going to be a war, I suppose they 
 will want to fight too. Alas ! I've a mind to turn 
 Yankee and cry down war." 
 
 " And let Patrick go unavenged, after all the sweet 
 looks you have cast on him and the honeyed words 
 to his mother ? " 
 
 "Quit your nonsense, sir. You know I would 
 never give soft glances to a common sailor." 
 
 "Thank you, and what am I ?" 
 
 " No common sailor, but an uncommonly pert 
 young gentleman. You may walk to Julia Gittings's 
 
When the ship came in. 
 
 with me, and there leave me ; I'll warrant her brother 
 will see me home." 
 
 " I warrant he will if I give him a chance, but I've 
 no notion of deserting you, Cousin Lettice. You 
 asked me to walk with you, and I'll complete my part 
 of the contract." 
 
 Lettice gave him a soft little dab with her white 
 fingers, and another moment brought them to a stand- 
 still before one of the comfortable houses fronting 
 the square below their own home. They found Miss 
 Julia surrounded by a bevy of young gentlemen in 
 short-waisted coats, and by as many young ladies in 
 as short-waisted gowns. 
 
 " Law, Lettice, is it you ? " cried Julia. " Have 
 you heard the news ? They say we'll surely have 
 war. Won't it be exciting ! Howdy, Mr. Joe. 
 Come sit here and tell me of your exploits. Mr. 
 Emery has just been trying to fool us by relat 
 ing a story of your being overhauled by the 
 British." 
 
 "It is true. Isn't it, Joe?" spoke up one of 
 the young men. 
 
 "True enough, as three of my boys have sad 
 reason to know," Joe replied. And then again 
 must an account of his experiences be given, amid 
 soft ejaculations from the girls and more emphatic 
 
 J?3 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 ones from the young men. It was not a specially 
 new theme, but one that had not come home to 
 them before, and not a youth that did not walk 
 away toward his home that night with a deter- 
 mination to avenge the outrage at the first oppor- 
 tunity. The next day came the news that war 
 was declared. 
 
 S4 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 The Work of a Mob. 
 
 WITHIN the week Rhoda Kendall arrived 
 with her father from Boston. As her 
 Cousin Joe had described her, Lettice was not 
 surprised to meet a quiet, reserved girl. By the 
 side of Lettice's dark hair, pink and white com- 
 plexion, and deep blue eyes, Rhoda's coloring 
 seemed very neutral, yet the New England girl 
 was by no means as supine as her appearance 
 would indicate, as Lettice soon found out ; for 
 before twenty-four hours were over she was argu- 
 ing with her new acquaintance in a crisp, decided 
 manner, and was so well-informed, so clever with 
 facts and dates, that Lettice retired from the field 
 sadly worsted, but with the fire of an ambitious 
 resolve kindled within her. 
 
 "She made me feel about two inches high," 
 she told her father, "and I appeared a perfect 
 ignoramus. Why don't I know all those things 
 about politics and history, father ? " 
 
 25 
 
A HEROINE OF i8i2. 
 
 "Go along, child," he replied. "Deliver me 
 from a clever woman ! Learn to be a good house- 
 wife, and be pretty and amiable, and you'll do." 
 
 "No, but I'll not do," Lettice persisted. "I 
 am not going to let that Boston girl make me 
 feel as small as a mouse, and I don't mean to sit 
 as mum as an owl while she entertains the gen- 
 tlemen with her knowledge of affairs. She'll be 
 having them all desert our side yet." 
 
 Her father laughed. "That's the way the crow 
 flies, is it ? My little lass is like to be jealous, 
 and she'll have no one stealing her swains from her. 
 I see. Well, my love, what do you want to know?" 
 
 "I want to know why we shouldn't have war. 
 When I listen to Rhoda, she fairly persuades me 
 that we would be a blundering, senseless lot, to 
 war with a great nation like England. She has 
 such a big navy, and we have none to speak of, 
 Rhoda says, and she laughs when I say we won't 
 let ourselves be beaten. We will not, will we, 
 father ? " 
 
 "No, we will not" he emphasized; "and as for 
 our navy, we have not a bad record. Their ships 
 can sail no faster and are no better manned than 
 ours." 
 
 "I'd like to see any one manage a vessel better 
 26 
 
THE WORK OF A MOB. 
 
 than you or Uncle Tom, and even Brother Will- 
 iam or Brother James, and Cousin Tom can dq 
 anything with one of our clippers. Why, they 
 are as much at home on the water as on the 
 land." 
 
 "To be sure. There are no better seamen any- 
 where than America can produce, and we can 
 show fight. At all events, daughter, we do not 
 mean to be bullied, and though New England 
 has little mind to help us, we'll make our fight on 
 righteous grounds of complaint." 
 
 " But won't our trade be spoiled ? Rhoda says 
 so." 
 
 "You let me talk to Rhoda," said Mr. Hopkins, 
 rising, "and leave politics alone, little one. Run 
 along and help your aunt." 
 
 " She doesn't want any help, and she doesn't 
 like me to be in the kitchen. Father, dear, when 
 shall I be oid enough to keep house for you, and 
 have Aunt Dorky, and Lutie, and all of them for 
 our servants ? " 
 
 He put his arm around her caressingly. "We 
 cannot think of such things till this war matter is 
 settled, my pet. I must be on hand to serve if 
 need be, and I couldn't leave my little girl alone, 
 you know." 
 
 27 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 " I wish I could fight," said Lettice, solemnly. 
 
 Her father smiled. "Pray heaven that you'll 
 never see fight," he said. 
 
 But Lettice was soon to see the first effects of 
 war, for the following evening Rhoda's father came 
 in and pulled a paper out of his pocket as he sat 
 down to the table. "What do you think of this, 
 Tom ? " he said. " There's a level-headed man for 
 you ! " and he read : " We mean to use every con- 
 stitutional argument and every legal means to 
 render as odious and suspicious to the American 
 people, as they deserve to be, the patrons and con- 
 trivers of this highly impolitic and destructive war, 
 in the full persuasion that we shall be supported 
 and ultimately applauded by nine-tenths of our 
 countrymen, and that our silence would be treason 
 to them." 
 
 "What do I think of that?" said Mr. Hopkins, 
 " I think that Mr. Hanson is laying up trouble for 
 himself, for I suppose that is the Federal Republi- 
 can you have there." 
 
 " It is, and I fully agree with Mr. Hanson, if he 
 is the editor." 
 
 "You of Massachusetts may, but we of Maryland 
 do not," returned Mr. Hopkins, with some heat ; 
 " and Mr. Hanson will find out to his cast that he 
 
 28 
 
THE WORK OF A MOB. 
 
 cannot disseminate such a publication without 
 endangering himself and his property." 
 
 Sure enough, on the following Monday evening a 
 party of indignant citizens destroyed the type, 
 presses, paper, etc., of the Federal Republican, and 
 razed the house to its foundations, following out 
 Mr. Hopkins's predictions. 
 
 "Outrageous!" cried Rhoda, when she heard the 
 reports. "What a lawless set you are here." 
 
 "Almost as much so as you were up in Boston 
 some forty years ago," retorted her Cousin Joe, 
 lazily, at which Rhoda's pale blue eyes flashed, and 
 she set her lips defiantly. 
 
 " You are talking nonsense ! " she said. "That was 
 for our liberty, and this is but the furthering an 
 unnecessary conflict which will ruin the country 
 our fathers so bravely fought for." 
 
 "And for which our fathers will bravely fight 
 again, won't they, Cousin Joe?" Lettice broke in. 
 " Mine will, I know, although I don't suppose 
 yours will, Rhoda." 
 
 "Sh! Sh!" cried Mrs. Hopkins. "Don't quar- 
 rel, children. I hoped you two girls would be good 
 friends, but you are forever sparring. You are not 
 very polite, Lettice. You'll be sending Rhoda home 
 with a poor opinion of Southern hospitality.'' 
 
 29 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 This touched Lettice to the quick. She looked 
 up archly from under her long lashes. "Then I'll 
 be good, Rhoda," she said. " Come, we'll go to 
 market for aunt. I want you to see our Marsh 
 market. Strangers think it is a real pretty one." 
 And the two girls departed, Lettice with basket 
 on arm, curls dancing, and step light ; Rhoda with 
 a deep consciousness of the proprieties, giving not 
 so much as a side glance to the young blades who 
 eyed them admiringly as they passed down Market 
 Street. But Lettice dimpled and smiled as this or 
 that acquaintance doffed his hat, so that presently 
 Rhoda said sarcastically, " It is plain to see why 
 you like to come to market, Lettice." 
 
 " And why ? " asked Lettice, opening her eyes. 
 
 " Because of the many pretty bows you receive." 
 
 Lettice gave her head a little toss, and then asked, 
 a trifle wickedly, " Is it then a new experience to 
 you to count on receiving a bow from a gentleman ? " 
 
 " No," returned Rhoda, somewhat nettled ; " but 
 from so many." 
 
 " Oh, so many ; then you girls in Boston cannot 
 account your acquaintances by the dozen." 
 
 "We don't want to," returned Rhoda, shortly. 
 " We are not so lavish of our smiles as to bestow 
 them upon every masculine we meet." 
 
 3° 
 
' It is plain to see why you like to come to market* 
 
THE WORK OF A MOB. 
 
 "That's where you lose a great deal," replied 
 Lettice, suavely. " Now, I've been taught to be 
 sweetly polite to everybody, and my father would 
 bow as courteously to Mrs. Flynn as to Mrs. Dolly 
 Madison, and so would my brothers." 
 
 " You have two brothers, I believe," said Rhoda, 
 changing the subject. 
 
 "Yes; one has not been long married and lives 
 at our old home in eastern Maryland." 
 
 "A farm?" 
 
 "A tobacco plantation, although we raise other 
 crops. My younger brother, James, lives there, 
 too." 
 
 "And how old is he?" 
 
 " Old enough to be a very fitting beau for you," 
 laughed Lettice. 
 
 Rhoda frowned, to Lettice's delight. " Why don't 
 you say, Such frivolity ! that is what Aunt Martha 
 always says when I mention beaux. One would 
 suppose it a wicked thing to marry or to receive a 
 gentleman's attention. I wonder how Aunt Martha 
 ever brought herself to the point of becoming 
 Uncle Tom's second wife ; but I believe she says 
 he carried her by storm, and she was surprised into 
 saying yes. How do the young men carry on such 
 things up your way, Rhoda? Do they sit and 
 
 3i 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 tweedle their thumbs and cast sheep's eyes at you, 
 as some of our country bumpkins do ? or do they 
 make love to the mother, as I have heard is the 
 custom in some places ? " 
 
 "Nonsense, Lettice, how your thoughts do run 
 on such things ! Is that the market ? " 
 
 "Yes, and now you will see as fine a display as 
 you could wish." 
 
 A moment after Lettice had become the careful 
 housewife, selecting her various articles with great 
 judgment, tasting butter, scrutinizing strawberries 
 to be sure their caps were fresh and green, lifting 
 with delicate finger the gills of a fish to see if they 
 were properly red, and quite surprising Rhoda by her 
 knowledge of and interest in articles of food. 
 
 " One would suppose you were the housekeeper," 
 she said to Lettice. " How did you learn all those 
 things ? " 
 
 " My mother taught me some, and our old cook 
 others. My mother considered certain matters of 
 housekeeping the first for a girl to learn, and I hope 
 to keep house for my father in another year, if this 
 wretched war is over then." 
 
 " War ! " replied Rhoda, scornfully. " It is so absurd 
 to talk of war." But not many days after came the 
 first ominous outburst of the future storm. It was 
 
 32 
 
THE WORK OF A MOB. 
 
 on July 27, about twilight, that Lettice and Rhoda, 
 who were slowly sauntering up and down the pave- 
 ment, saw a crowd beginning to gather before a 
 respectable-looking house on Charles Street. 
 
 " I wonder what can be the matter," said Lettice, 
 pausing in her account of a fox-hunt. " Do you see 
 yonder crowd, Rhoda ? " 
 
 "Yes, let us go and find out what it means." 
 
 " Oh, no ! " And Lettice, who had surprised Rhoda 
 by telling how she could take a ditch, was not ready 
 to cross the street to join the crowd. 
 
 "There can't be any danger," said Rhoda. 
 
 "Oh, but there is. See there, Rhoda, they are 
 throwing stones at the windows. Oh, I see, it is the 
 house which Mr. Hanson now occupies, since they 
 tore down his printing-press. Oh, this is dreadful ! 
 Come, Rhoda, run, run ; the crowd is growing larger ; 
 we'll be. caught in the midst of it." 
 
 But Rhoda still hesitated. "Is that the gentle- 
 man whose paper my father commended ? " 
 
 " Mr. Hanson ? Yes, it is ; he is the editor of the 
 Federal Republican, and it is evident that he has 
 written something to enrage his enemies. Come, 
 Rhoda, do come. I am afraid we shall be hurt, and 
 anyhow, we must not mingle in such a rabble. I'm 
 going to run," and suiting the action to the word, 
 
 33 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 she ran swiftly along the street toward home, Rhoda 
 following at a slower gait. 
 
 They met their Cousin Joe hurrying toward them. 
 Oh, Cousin Joe, Cousin Joe," cried Lettice, grasping 
 his arm, " there is something dreadful going on ! 
 Take us home ! I am scared ! I don't want to see or 
 hear what they are doing. They are throwing stones 
 at Mr. Hanson's house, and are breaking the windows, 
 and yelling and howling like mad ! Listen ! What do 
 they mean to do ? Why are they so fierce ? I am so 
 afraid some one will be killed." 
 
 " It means that war has begun," said her cousin, 
 slowly. 
 
 " But what a way to do it ! " said Rhoda, indig- 
 nantly. " A rabble like that, to attack a few inno- 
 cent people !" 
 
 " Innocent from your point of view, but not from 
 the mob's." 
 
 " You uphold the mob ? " 
 
 " No ; but I don't uphold the utterances of the 
 Federal Republican. Come home, girls, and don't 
 poke your noses out of doors, or at least don't leave 
 our own front doorstep." 
 
 "I'll not," cried Lettice, clinging to him. "I 
 will go out into the garden and sit there. Where 
 are my father and Uncle Tom ? " 
 
 34 
 
THE WORK OF A MOB. 
 
 "They have gone down to see Major Barney, 
 to inquire what can be done about this disturb- 
 ance. I will keep you informed about what goes 
 on." 
 
 "Don't go back into that mob, Cousin Joe," 
 Lettice begged. "You might get killed." 
 
 "I must see what is going on, but I will take 
 no part in violence." 
 
 " But what would Patsey say ? " Lettice asked 
 half archly. 
 
 Joe looked down at her with a little smile. 
 " If she is the brave girl I take her for, she'll 
 trust to my good sense to look out for myself." 
 
 " But they are firing from the house. Listen ! 
 you can hear the reports." 
 
 Joe listened, and then he said, "I will not go 
 too near, little cousin. I promise you that. Run 
 in now." 
 
 "You'll come back and tell us if anything more 
 serious happens," said Rhoda. " I wish my father 
 were not in Washington." 
 
 "He's better off there," Joe assured her. "For 
 my part, I am thankful he is not here." 
 
 The girls retired to the garden at the back of 
 the house. Danny with wide-open eyes peeped 
 out of one of the lower windows. "What's de 
 
 35 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 matter, Miss Letty?" he asked in a loud whisper. 
 " Is dey fightin' ? " 
 
 "Yes; at least there is a riot out there. Some 
 people are attacking the house where Mr. Hanson 
 is — Mr. Wagner's house on Charles Street. It 
 began by a rabble of boys throwing stones ana 
 calling names." 
 
 "Golly, but I wisht I'd been there!" 
 
 "Danny, go back to bed, and don't get up again," 
 his mistress ordered. 
 
 Danny crawled reluctantly down from his place 
 on the window-sill. " Whar Mars Torm ? " he 
 asked. 
 
 " He has gone down town," Lettice informed 
 him. 
 
 Danny still hung back. "Miss Letty," he whis- 
 pered. She went a few steps toward him, despite 
 her aunt's reproving voice, " You and your Uncle 
 Tom ruin that boy, Lettice." 
 
 "What is it, Danny?" Lettice asked. 
 
 "Ef anythin' tur'ble happen, I skeered you all 
 gwine leave me hyar." 
 
 Lettice laughed. "There isn't anything terrible 
 going to happen to this house, and if there should, 
 I'll let you know, you needn't be scared, Danny." 
 
 The noise in the street increased. As yet no mili- 
 36 
 
THE WORK OF A MOB. 
 
 tary appeared to quell the mob. Mrs. Flynn, worked 
 up into a great state of excitement, trotted from 
 corner to corner, coming back so often to report 
 that it would seem as if she would wear herself 
 out. "There be a gintleman addhressin' the crowd, 
 Mrs. Hopkins, mum," she said. 
 
 "They do say they'll be rig'lar foightin' nixt. 
 Glory be to Pether! but hear thim cracks av the 
 goons ! " And back she trotted to return with : 
 "Howly mother av Moses! they're murtherin' the 
 payple in the streets. A gintleman, be name 
 Dr. Gale, is kilt intoirely, an' siveral others is 
 hurthed bad, an' the crowd is runnin' in ivery 
 direction. Do ye hear thim drooms a-beatin' ? 
 I'll be afther seein' what's that for." And out 
 she went again. 
 
 "Come, girls, go to bed," said Mrs. Hopkins. 
 "It is near midnight, and you can do no good by 
 sitting up. I wish Mr. Hopkins would come in." 
 
 But neither Mr. Tom Hopkins nor his brother 
 appeared that night, and all through their troubled 
 slumbers the girls heard groans and hoarse cries, 
 and the sound of a surging mass of angry men 
 bent on satisfying their lust for revenge. Even 
 with the dawn the horrors continued to be carried 
 on throughout the day. 
 
 37 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 It was not till late in the afternoon that 
 Mr. Tom Hopkins returned home. He looked 
 pale and troubled. "We have heard terrible re- 
 ports, Uncle Tom," said Rhoda. "Is it really 
 true that some of your most respectable citizens 
 have been murdered by a brutal horde of lawless 
 villains, and that they have been tortured and 
 almost torn limb from limb ? " 
 
 "I fear there is much truth in it," he replied 
 gravely. 
 
 " Oh ! " The tears welled up into Letty's eyes. 
 "Is General Lingan killed, and General Lee? Oh, 
 Uncle Tom, is it so dreadful as that ? And where 
 is my father ? " 
 
 " He is with Major Barney. General Lingan, I 
 fear, is killed. General Lee, I am not so sure 
 about. I hope he is safe. There has been much 
 wrong done, and an ill-advised mob is hard to 
 quell, especially when it is a principle rather than 
 a personal grudge which is involved, because it is 
 the whole mind of the party which works with 
 equal interest. I regret exceedingly the manner 
 of their opposition to Mr. Hanson's paper, but — " 
 He frowned and shook his head. 
 
 Rhoda fired up. " It is a disgrace. I should 
 think you would feel it to be a blot on your city 
 
 38 
 
THE WORK OF A MOB. 
 
 and state, that such things have been allowed by 
 the authorities. I wish I had never come to this 
 place, peopled by a set of villanous murderers." 
 
 " Rhoda ! " Her aunt spoke reprovingly. 
 
 " I don't care." Rhoda's cheeks were flushed. 
 " It is true. It is a dreadful, dreadful thing to 
 murder men for saying they will not countenance 
 a war with England." 
 
 "It is a dreadful thing," returned her uncle, 
 "but we have many wrongs to avenge. Our poor 
 seamen have been flogged to death, have been as 
 brutally treated as this mob has treated the Fed- 
 eralists, and a desire for vengeance which will not 
 be satisfied with less than an eye for an eye, is 
 the motive power which has controlled these late 
 horrible scenes. It is the first battle of our war 
 for freedom, ill-advised as it is." 
 
 Lettice was sobbing nervously. " I want to go 
 home, too," she cried, "I don't want to stay 
 here, either. I want to go home, Uncle Tom. 
 I am afraid more dreadful things will happen." 
 
 "I am afraid so, too, and I think you would all 
 be safer and more at ease down in the country. 
 I think, Martha, you had better take the girls and 
 go down to Sylvia's Ramble as soon as you can 
 get off." 
 
 *9 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 "And leave you?" 
 
 " I am safe enough ; at least, if need comes, you 
 know what I shall do." 
 
 Mrs. Hopkins sighed and shook her head. 
 
 "At all events," continued Mr. Hopkins, "you 
 all will be better off in the country, and I will 
 come down as soon as I can feel free to do so." 
 
 Then Lettice dried her eyes, and while Rhoda 
 was protesting that she could not go away in the 
 absence of her father, Mr. Kendall walked in. 
 
 40 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 On the Bay. 
 
 THE curiously indented shore of the Chesa- 
 peake Bay presents a country so full of little 
 rivers and inlets that it is oftener easier to cut 
 across a narrow channel by boat than to drive 
 from one place to another. Especially is this true 
 of the Eastern shore : in consequence, the dwellers 
 thereon are as much at home on the water as on 
 the land, and are famous sailors. This Rhoda 
 soon discovered, and was filled with amazement to 
 find that Lettice could manage a sailing vessel 
 nearly as well as could her brothers. 
 
 It was much against Rhoda's will that she finally 
 made ready to accompany her aunt and Lettice 
 to the country. Her father informed her that he 
 must return to Washington, and though she begged 
 to be allowed to go with him, he said she would be 
 better off in the hands of her aunt, and he would 
 join her at Sylvia's Ramble a little later. 
 
 Mr. Tom Hopkins's plantation lay next to his 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 brother's. The two formed part of an original 
 tract granted by Lord Baltimore to an ancestor of 
 the Hopkins family. Part of the land lay along the 
 bay, and one or two small creeks ran up from 
 the larger body of water, so that when one ap- 
 proached the houses, it seemed as if a vessel must 
 be moored in the back yard, for tall spars shot up 
 behind the chimneys, seemingly out of a mass of 
 green. Rhoda's puzzled look upon being told that 
 their destination was the next place made Lettice 
 ask what was wrong. 
 
 " What in the world is it that looks so curious ? " 
 said Rhoda. " Aunt Martha tells me that the 
 house is the next one, and surely that is a vessel 
 behind it ? Do you use ships for barns ? " 
 
 Lettice laughed. "You will see when we get 
 there. We don't land in the creek. Uncle Tom 
 has a landing this side, on the bay shore. Just 
 there it is." 
 
 Their little sailing vessel was gliding in, having 
 passed Kent Island on the left. The fresh breeze 
 had brought them down in a comparatively short 
 time, and Lettice was soon scanning the small 
 wharf to see who stood to meet them. "There's 
 Brother James," she cried ; " and I do believe it is 
 Patsey Ringgold herself, Cousin Joe. Yes, there 
 
 42 
 
ON THE BAY. 
 
 she sits on her white horse." And almost before 
 the boat had touched the sands, Lettice was ashore, 
 crying : " Howdy, Brother James ! Howdy, Patsey. 
 Here we are, safe and sound, and so glad to get 
 here." 
 
 A warm color came into the face of the 
 girl sitting on her horse ready to welcome them, 
 and she slid down, before James could help her, 
 to be heartily kissed and embraced by Lettice, who 
 said : " I am dying to hear the neighborhood news, 
 and, Patsey dear, there is so much to tell you, and 
 I have brought a new sleeve pattern, and oh, tell 
 me, have the gowns come home yet ? " 
 
 " They are on the way," Patsey told her. " Who 
 is the young lady, Lettice?" 
 
 " That is Rhoda Kendall, my Aunt Martha's niece, 
 from Boston. I see Brother James is already mak- 
 ing his manners to her. 1 ' 
 
 "Yes, I have heard of her," returned Patsey; 
 "but I wonder that she should come down here 
 just now." 
 
 " Her father is obliged to be in Washington, 
 and thought it safer that she should come down 
 here with us, since there are such troubles in the 
 city." 
 
 " Troubles, yes ; and there are like to be more of 
 43 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 them, if what we hear is true. Every one is talking 
 of the war, and the planters are making ready for 
 defence." 
 
 " And they are sending out vessels from Baltimore 
 to chase the British cruisers; Cousin Joe — " Lettice 
 paused, for Patsey cast an apprehensive look at the 
 tall figure then stepping over the side of the vessel. 
 " Cousin Joe," Lettice repeated, " will tell you all 
 about it." 
 
 Up toward a white house set in a grove of locust 
 trees, they all took their way, attended by an escort 
 of negroes, big and little, who lugged along whatever 
 was portable. Lettice linked her arm in that of her 
 brother, when her Cousin Joe joined Patsey, and this 
 youngest pair fell behind the rest. "You'll take 
 me straight home, Jamie dear, won't you ? " Lettice 
 coaxed. " I do so want to see Sister Betty and the 
 baby, and Brother William, and oh, so many things ! 
 You don't know how glad I am to get back ! Does 
 Betty make a good housekeeper, and has she changed 
 the place much ? " 
 
 " No, very little," her brother made reply ; " and, 
 yes, she is a fair housekeeper ; perhaps not so good 
 as our mother was, but Betty has some years before 
 she will need to have great things expected of her. 
 How is father ? and what is this I hear of his going 
 
 44 
 
ON THE BAY. 
 
 to join the troops ? Joe says Uncle Tom is talking 
 of going, too." 
 
 Lettice gave a little start. " I knew they talked of 
 it, but I didn't know it meant that they would go soon. 
 Do they really mean to join the army at once ? " 
 
 "So Joe says." 
 
 "And will you go? and Brother William?" Let- 
 tice asked in visible distress. 
 
 " If we are needed. They are getting up compa- 
 nies everywhere, to protect the state." 
 
 Lettice gave a deep sigh, and clung closer to him. 
 He was a pleasant-looking lad of eighteen, with 
 curling, ruddy brown locks and fearless blue eyes, 
 and with such a winning, careless, happy nature as 
 caused many a little lass to give her smiles to him. 
 "So you don't want to stay under Aunt Martha's 
 wing any longer," he said, smiling. 
 
 " No, I'd rather be under Betty's. Does she know 
 I am coming?" 
 
 " She expects you, and is in a twitter of delight 
 over having you back again with us." 
 
 "Then don't let us tarry." And, indeed, she cut 
 her good-bys very short, and with her brother was 
 soon cutting across fields to her old home, there 
 to be welcomed joyously by Sister Betty and the 
 servants. 
 
 45 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 " I declare, Letty, you grow like a weed ! " was 
 Betty's greeting as, with her baby in her arms, she 
 came into her sister-in-law's room that evening, to 
 watch her make her evening toilet. "Have you 
 many pretty things ? " 
 
 "A few. Aunt Martha doesn't encourage extrav- 
 agance in dress." Lettice drew down the corners 
 of her mouth and dropped her eyes in a little prim 
 way, while Betty laughed. 
 
 " Nonsense ! she is an old Puritan. It is natural 
 for girls to like pretty things, just as it is for babies 
 to want to catch at something bright. Isn't it, my 
 pretty ? " And Betty gave her cooing baby a hug, 
 as he vainly tried to clutch the shining chain his 
 mother had been dangling before him. Lettice 
 smiled and surveyed her dainty little figure com- 
 placently, then held out her hands for the baby. 
 
 "No, don't take him now," said Betty; "he'll 
 rumple your pretty frock. He'd rather be with his 
 mammy than either of us, anyhow." 
 
 "Is dear old Dorcas his mammy?" 
 
 " Yes, of course ; ' she done nuss de whole mess 
 o' Hopkins, an' she right spry yet,' " replied Betty, 
 laughing. " Come, let's go find her. William will 
 be coming in pretty soon, and I must be ready to 
 meet him, and oh, Lettice, I remembered how fond 
 
 46 
 
ON THE BAY. 
 
 you were of buttermilk, and I told Randy to put a 
 bucket of it down the well to keep cool for you." 
 
 Lettice gave a sigh of content and followed her 
 sister-in-law down the broad stairway. It was so 
 good to be at home again ; to see the table set with 
 the familiar dishes, and Speery standing there with a 
 green branch beating away the flies. Speery giggled 
 gleefully as she caught sight of the figure which had 
 paused before the door. " Law, Miss Letty, yuh is 
 a gran' young lady, sho 'nough," she said. " I mos' 
 skeered to speak to yuh." 
 
 "You needn't be, Speery," Lettice replied, her 
 eyes wandering over the dark mahogany furniture, 
 and returning to take in the details of old silver and 
 India china upon the table. " Is that one of Miss 
 Betty's wedding presents — that pitcher ? How 
 pretty it is." 
 
 "Yass, miss, dat one o' 'em. I done fergit who 
 given it to 'er." 
 
 "Don't forget my buttermilk, Speery," said Let- 
 tice, as she turned away. 
 
 " Naw, miss," giggled Speery. And then Lettice 
 went out on the porch to be hugged and kissed by 
 her big brother, she declaring that even though she 
 could no longer lay claim to being the baby of the 
 family, she meant to be as much of a pet as ever. 
 
 47 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 But at the table the talk became very serious, and 
 a cloud settled on Betty's fair brow as her husband 
 questioned minutely as to the trouble in the city, 
 and when, after supper, they all gathered on the 
 porch to get the cool breezes from the bay, Betty 
 drew very close to William, and, despite the glad- 
 ness of her home-coming, Lettice felt that she was 
 not beyond an atmosphere of anxious dread, even 
 here in this quiet corner of the world. 
 
 Rhoda chafed at being obliged to remain in a com- 
 munity of fire-eaters, as she called them, to James's 
 amusement. The lad loved to tease, and more than 
 once brought tears of rage to Rhoda's eyes. She 
 liked him, too ; perhaps that was the reason he could 
 so easily annoy her. His curly head was wont to 
 appear very often over the railing of the porch at 
 Sylvia's Ramble, and his greeting was usually, 
 " Howdy, Miss Rhoda, have you heard the news ? " 
 
 " No," Rhoda invariably returned, looking around 
 sharply. And then James would lean indolently 
 against the porch and gaze up at her with a beguil- 
 ing expression in his eyes, and would make some 
 such remark as, "They say Massachusetts is get- 
 ting ready to secede." 
 
 Then Rhoda would turn away with a fling and 
 say, " I don't believe a word of it ! " 
 
 48 
 
ON THE BAY. 
 
 "If she does, you'll stay down here with us, 
 won't you, Miss Rhoda?" James would say, giv- 
 ing her one of his fetching glances. Then Rhoda 
 would look confused, and say that she would call 
 her aunt. 
 
 Once or twice they quarrelled in good earnest, 
 for Rhoda pretended to despise everything which 
 savored of the South, while James never failed to 
 sound Maryland's praises. "You know," he said 
 one day, " Maryland is mighty plucky. She stood 
 out against you all in 1778, when the question of 
 setting a limit to Western lands came up. You 
 know she wouldn't yield an inch, and was the 
 only one of the states that stood up for the public 
 good against all odds. She just wouldn't, and she 
 wouldn't join the confederation of states unless 
 they'd come around to her way of thinking." 
 
 " Pshaw ! " returned Rhoda, but half convinced. 
 "I never heard so much talk about nothing. We 
 never hear that discussed up our way." 
 
 " Course not," James answered. " Good reason 
 why. Massachusetts was one of the states that 
 held Western lands. When did she ever want to 
 give up anything for the public good ? " 
 
 "When did she? You are crazy to talk so! 
 You forget Lexington and Bunker Hill." 
 
 49 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 "Humph!" James's eyes twinkled. "That's 
 what you always say. One would think you all 
 up there had won the independence of the colo- 
 nies by your two or three little skirmishes. The 
 real battles took place farther south than New 
 England. Precious little she suffered compared 
 to the Southern states ! We'd never have won 
 if the South hadn't given Washington, and hadn't 
 sent their troops and their supplies and their help 
 of all kinds to get you out of your scrape up 
 there. I think you are right-down ungrateful to 
 us. Why, laws, child, you didn't know anything 
 about fighting up there. They didn't get at it hot 
 and heavy till the war left Massachusetts soil. 
 You have no reason to be stuck up over your 
 little old Bunker Hill." 
 
 "We began the war, anyhow," retorted Rhoda. 
 
 "You flatter yourselves. The Regulators in 
 North Carolina did the starting." 
 
 "That wasn't till after our Stamp Act riot." 
 
 " Sure enough ; you score one there. At all 
 events, you would still be under England's domin- 
 ion if we hadn't come to your aid ; though from 
 the looks of it, that's where you want to be, and 
 your Bunker Hill will go for nothing." 
 
 Then Rhoda arose in a towering rage. " You 
 So 
 
ON THE BAY. 
 
 are a detestable creature ! I wish I had never 
 seen you. If I were a man, I'd — I'd fight a duel 
 with you, and — " 
 
 "Kill me?" said James, leaning toward her. 
 " You can slay me now with your killing glances 
 if you will. 'Deed, Miss Rhoda, I do love to 
 make you mad. You are always running down 
 Maryland, you know, and calling us fire-eaters, 
 and it just does me good to make the sparks fly. 
 Look around here — please look." 
 
 But Rhoda persistently kept her head turned 
 away, perhaps to hide the tears of anger standing 
 in her eyes. She was not to be mollified by any 
 soft speeches. 
 
 "What are you up to, James?" called his aunt. 
 " How you do love to tease. I don't think you will 
 give Rhoda a very good idea of Southern gallantry." 
 
 James looked properly repentant. "'Deed, Miss 
 Rhoda," he said softly, " I'm sorry, I'm dreadfully 
 sorry. You're not crying ? " in troubled surprise. 
 
 "No, I'm not," snapped Rhoda. And, getting 
 up, she passed him swiftly, with head up, to enter 
 the house. 
 
 " Sho ! " exclaimed James, looking after her, 
 "I've been and gone and done it this time, Aunt 
 Martha. She'll never forgive me, will she ? " 
 
 5 1 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 "I am sure I don't know; she oughtn't to," 
 returned Mrs. Hopkins. " You have no right to 
 berate her native state in that way ; it is very rude, 
 to say the least." 
 
 " So it is, for a fact. It's right-down mean of 
 me. I'll have to find some way to make up for it." 
 
 And find a way he did. First his special mes- 
 senger, black Bounce, came over that afternoon 
 with a basket of the finest peaches that Rhoda 
 had ever seen, and next Lettice was seen gallop- 
 ing up the lane on her bay mare. She stopped 
 in front of the porch where Rhoda sat sedately 
 sewing. "Rhoda, Rhoda," cried .she, "put down 
 your work ; we are going fishing, and will take 
 supper with us, and Mr. Sam Osborne is going to 
 let us have a dance in his new barn this evening." 
 
 Rhoda made no response, but sewed quietly on. 
 
 Lettice slipped down from her horse, and, still 
 holding the bridle, tapped on the step with her 
 whip. " Don't you hear, you sober sides ? " she 
 cried. " We're going fishing, and we're going to 
 Mr. Sam Osborne's new barn for a dance. Old 
 Hank is going to bring his fiddle. How I do love 
 to dance ! I assure you there are few things I 
 like better. Hurry up and get ready." 
 
 " I ? " 
 
 5 2 
 
ON THE BAY. 
 
 " ' I ? ' Of course you. Jamie will be here in 
 a minute for you. He begged me to offer his 
 excuses for sending so sudden an invitation — we 
 only had the message from Mr. Osborne a few 
 minutes ago — and Jamie asks that he may be 
 your escort." 
 
 " No, he may not," Rhoda answered in a very 
 dignified tone. 
 
 "And why, pray?" 
 
 " Because I don't choose to give him the oppor. 
 tunity to abuse my state and to mock me." 
 
 "Did he do that? He didn't mean it; he was 
 only teasing. Law me, Rhoda, he's teased me 
 nearly to death ever since I was born. There 
 never was such a tease, nor such a dear boy, so all 
 the girls say. No one can stay angry with him 
 very long. He would be distressed to death if he 
 thought he had really hurt your feelings. I never 
 can stay angry with him." 
 
 "I can." 
 
 " Oh, well, I'll ride back and tell him. Becky 
 Lowe will be glad enough that you are not going. 
 I will stop by for Becky, and we can all go to- 
 gether." 
 
 She again mounted her horse, calling back as 
 she rode off : " Better change your mind. You'll 
 
 53 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 miss a lot of fun." At the gate which a little 
 darkey scrambled to open for her, she stopped and 
 called again, "Rhoda, Rhoda, come to the steps." 
 Rhoda hesitated, but came slowly forward. " Some- 
 body said she'd bet a sixpence that you wouldn't 
 go with James," Lettice said. 
 
 " Who was it ? " 
 
 "Becky Lowe." And Lettice rode off, leaving 
 Rhoda half angry, and wholly uncertain as to 
 whether she did not regret her decided refusal. 
 
 Within the next half-hour she was sure that she 
 did regret it. There was something very fascinat- 
 ing in this pleasure-seeking life of these care-free 
 Marylanders, who gave little thought for the mor- 
 row, and gathered their delights without any com- 
 punctions, and never questioned whether, for the 
 sake of practising self-denial, it was a duty to stay 
 at home from any entertainment which might offer. 
 "No one will care whether I stay or not," Rhoda 
 told herself. "They will call me stiff and unsocia- 
 ble, and will be glad they are rid of me, perhaps ; 
 but — I needn't have had much to say to James 
 if I had gone, and indeed, I might have found a 
 way to punish him." She sighed, and sat with 
 rather a melancholy expression, looking out upon 
 the sparkling blue waters of the bay. 
 
 54 
 
ON THE BAY. 
 
 Her revery was broken in upon by a voice say- 
 ing cheerily, " Hurry up, Miss Rhoda, I'm afraid 
 I'm late, but I had to go around by the mill." 
 
 Rhoda arose. " Didn't Lettice tell you ? " she 
 asked in some confusion. 
 
 " That you didn't mean to go ? Yes, but I knew 
 you wouldn't be so hard-hearted as to cheat me 
 out of an evening's pleasure, not but that it would 
 be a very great pleasure to stay here with you." 
 " Why, what do you mean ? " 
 "If you don't go, I shan't, that's all." 
 " Oh ! " Rhoda looked at him, to see determina- 
 tion written on every feature, but withal a most 
 tenderly pleading look in his eyes. " I'll go," she 
 said faintly. 
 
 55 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 The Barn Frolic. 
 
 IF Rhoda doubted James's chivalric attitude 
 toward her, she had reason to change her mind 
 before the day was over. Her escort was all atten- 
 tion, and when it became evident that Becky Lowe 
 had lost her wager, Lettice cast a merry glance at 
 Rhoda, giving her a nod of approval. In spite of the 
 fact that Becky was a neighbor, Lettice felt that she 
 must champion her uncle's guest. As they stepped 
 aboard the little vessel which was to take them on 
 their short sail, she whispered to Patsey, " We must 
 make Rhoda have a good time." And Patsey gave a 
 responsive smile. 
 
 Patsey had been a little jealous of Rhoda on Joe's 
 account, but the evident devotion of his Cousin James 
 rather relieved her feelings in that direction, and she 
 confessed to herself that Joe had paid Rhoda only 
 such attentions as were becoming that he should 
 show to a visitor in his father's house. 
 
 " Now what are we going to do ? " asked Becky, 
 56 
 
THE BARN FROLIC. 
 
 when they were all safely aboard the graceful sail- 
 boat which, with canvas set, was speeding toward 
 Love Point. 
 
 "We're going to Kent Island, you know," Lettice 
 told her. " We are not going anywhere else first, are 
 we, Birket ? " She turned to address a very young 
 gentleman at her side. 
 
 " No, miss," he returned, " so Joe Hopkins says. 
 I was over at the Ringgold's, and Joe asked me to 
 come along." 
 
 " But you didn't come without knowing where we 
 were going, did you, Birket ? " 
 
 The young man murmured something unintel- 
 ligible, and gave his attention to the jib-boom which 
 threatened to annihilate Rhoda, who was not used to 
 a sailing vessel. 
 
 " You don't go sailing up your way much, do you, 
 Miss Kendall ? " Becky said. " We all down here go 
 about on the water as much as we do on the land." 
 
 "We don't have to," Rhoda returned, a trifle 
 defiantly. She was on the defensive since her late 
 talk with James. She had scarcely spoken to the 
 young man since they had started from home, but 
 had managed to seat herself near Patsey and Joe. 
 
 " No, they don't have to up there," spoke up James. 
 " They have good roads, and go straight at a thing 
 
 57 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 instead of driving over roundabout ways for miles to 
 a place not a mile off, as we have to do. I tell you 
 that is a fine harbor they have there at Boston, Miss 
 Rhoda ! Ever been there, Becky ? " 
 
 " No, you know I haven't ! " she returned with 
 some vexation. 
 
 "And it's a beautiful coast," James went on; 
 "rocky, you know ; not sandy like ours. It certainly 
 seems right pretty after our level country, where we 
 go miles on a stretch without so much as one little 
 hill to break the monotony." 
 
 Becky was silenced for the time, but she had shafts 
 in reserve. She resented the presence of this fair- 
 haired Northern girl. What business had she down 
 there usurping Becky's own right to an admirer? 
 Lettice watched the manoeuvres of Miss Becky with 
 sly glances at Patsey. Lettice herself was entirely 
 heart -free. She was too young to be greatly troubled 
 by affairs of sentiment, although she had twice 
 imagined herself violently in love ; once with a young 
 gentleman who had passed an evening at her uncle's, 
 and who had made himself particularly agreeable to 
 her ; even now she liked to think about him, wonder- 
 ing if she should ever see him again. He was from 
 New York, she remembered, and she became so 
 absorbed in her recollections of him, that she did not 
 
 58 
 
THE BARN FROLIC. 
 
 notice the youthful cavalier who stood waiting to help 
 her ashore. 
 
 " Lettice is going to stay where she is," 
 laughed Becky ; " she doesn't care to dance, you 
 know, nor does she care for supper." 
 
 " Don't I ? " cried Lettice, on her feet at once. 
 " I do care. Your hand, Birk, and I'll be ashore 
 before any one;" which indeed she was, and stood 
 laughing to greet the others as each made the 
 landing. 
 
 A supper of oysters, crabs, biscuits, and such- 
 like Maryland dainties, was eaten merrily enough. 
 Rhoda was a little reserved, but chatted pleasantly 
 with Patsey, Joe, and the one or two whom she 
 knew; Lettice was full of fun, and was as sport- 
 ive as a kitten, ready to go crabbing, or to row 
 out into the creek whose waters reflected a gor- 
 geous sunset sky, to tease her Cousin Joe, or her 
 Brother James, till finally she dropped down on 
 the sands in quite a thoughtful mood, listening to 
 Becky's lazy voice as she inquired of Rhoda, 
 " Do you go fox-hunting, Miss Kendall ? " 
 
 "No, I do not," was the reply. "I ride some- 
 times, but we are not much given to the chase." 
 
 " Oh ! " Becky lifted her eyebrows. " It's very 
 exciting, and we all think it's great fun. Shall 
 
 59 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 you stay long enough to go this fall when the 
 season begins ? " 
 
 " I hardly know ; it will depend upon my 
 father's plans. He is in Washington now." 
 
 " Is he getting ready to fight ? " 
 
 " I hope not," Rhoda returned severely. 
 
 " Oh, don't you want war ? We all do ; we 
 think it must come. Isn't it funny, Mr. Dean ? 
 Miss Kendall doesn't approve of the war." 
 
 "That's because she's from Massachusetts," Mr. 
 Dean made reply, having reasons of his own for 
 wanting to please Miss Becky. 
 
 Rhoda bit her lip, but James came to the res- 
 cue. "Look here," he said; "it seems to me 
 that it's pretty early to be flinging at Massachu- 
 setts. The war's hardly begun, and if she wants 
 to be cautious, what's that to us ? I think 
 her Revolutionary record will stand investigation. 
 We know well enough how she gave everything 
 to the cause ; her men didn't spare themselves, 
 neither did her women. I say it's too early, 
 Dean, to criticise." He had moved closer to 
 Rhoda, and she looked up at him gratefully. 
 "Perhaps we are the ones who are wrong, after 
 all," James continued. 
 
 Stephen Dean gave a low whistle. " Whew ! " 
 60 
 
THE BARN FROLIC. 
 
 he exclaimed, " I thought you were hot foot for 
 war." 
 
 " So I am ; but that isn't saying that I'm infalli- 
 ble, is it ? If we get whipped, maybe we'll wish 
 we hadn't been quite so peart in stirring up old 
 England — Hallo ! there's a boat coming in. It's 
 your father, Miss Rhoda, and Uncle Tom, and a 
 stranger." 
 
 The small vessel containing the new arrivals 
 now gracefully approached the landing, and in a 
 moment Rhoda was welcoming her father, Joe 
 was rapidly putting questions, while before Let- 
 tice, who was standing shyly apart, was bowing 
 the young gentleman of her dreams. " Fair Miss 
 Lettice, this is a very happy meeting," said young 
 Mr. Robert Clinton. "I am fortunate to have 
 arrived in time for a jubilee. What is the occa- 
 sion ? a birthday ? " 
 
 " No special occasion ; it is but one of the 
 frolics we often have. Mr. Sam Osborne has 
 built a new barn, and the young people in the 
 neighborhood are going to have a dance there this 
 evening. We have just been having a crab supper." 
 
 "Am I too late for scraps?" 
 
 " No, there is an abundance left. I will order 
 Bounce to get you all something." 
 
 61 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 "Don't run away." 
 
 "I will come back. I must see if my father 
 sent me a message." She approached her Uncle 
 Tom, having stopped to bid Bounce serve the 
 gentlemen with the best that was left of the 
 feast. 
 
 " Free trade and sailor's rights ! that is the 
 cry," her uncle was saying, and on the other side, 
 Mr. Kendall replied, "As our great Josiah 
 Quincy says, sir, 'we're not going to be kicked 
 into a war.' Sailor's rights, indeed ! Where is 
 your navy ? " 
 
 "There," Mr. Hopkins waved his hand toward 
 the blue Chesapeake dotted with the white sails 
 of her schooners and clippers. 
 
 Mr. Kendall smiled sarcastically. "And your 
 marines ? " 
 
 " Here," returned Mr. Hopkins, indicating the 
 party of sunburnt young men before them. 
 " Think you, sir, that we shall endure the heel of 
 England upon our necks ? You may be willing 
 meekly to accept her abuse for the sake of the 
 profit that will accrue from swallowing her insults, 
 but we of the South are of a different mould." 
 
 "Your John Randolph is not so eager to voice 
 your cry of free trade and sailor's rights." 
 
 62 
 
THE BARN FROLIC. 
 
 "But our Henry Clay and John C. Calhoun do 
 voice it." 
 
 "Politics! Politics!" cried Lettice. "Just a 
 short rest from them, Uncle Tom. Will you and 
 Mr. Kendall partake of some refreshments, and 
 leave politics till another time ? It seems to me 
 that you will find it vastly more agreeable to dis- 
 cuss a devilled crab. Uncle Tom, did you bring 
 me any message from my father ? " 
 
 " His love, and he will see you before we are 
 ordered off." 
 
 "Ordered off! Oh, Uncle Tom, you are really 
 going to join the troops?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "What is the news from Canada, father?" 
 Rhoda asked. 
 
 "What might have been expected," he returned; 
 "Hull has surrendered." 
 
 " Oh, do you mean General William Hull ? " 
 
 "That's the man." 
 
 Rhoda cast a triumphant glance at James who had 
 joined them, and the lad flushed angrily. "Is that 
 really true, or is it only a report?" he asked his uncle. 
 
 "Too true," he answered; "but," laying his hand 
 on the boy's shoulder, "we shall have need of you 
 yet, Jamie. We are disgusted, but not defeated, 
 
 63 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 for another Hull has given us a glorious victory 
 on the sea to offset our defeat on land." 
 
 "What's that, sir? We haven't heard the news 
 yet." 
 
 "You might have heard it fast enough, if you 
 had been a little nearer to Baltimore, for they 
 fired salutes in honor of the news, and every ship 
 in the harbor ran up her flag. Captain Isaac 
 Hull has taken the Guerrikre as a prize into 
 Boston, and the whole country is jubilant." 
 
 " The Guerrihe ? Dacres's ship ? Then Hull 
 has won his hat," James cried. " Hurrah for Hull 
 and the old Constitution!" 
 
 " What's that about a hat ? " Lettice asked. 
 
 "Why, Dacres and Hull laid a wager of a hat, 
 each declaring that he would whip the other if 
 they ever met on the high seas, and old Hull has 
 won." And James struck up a song written by 
 Mr. Francis Hopkinson and called "The Favorite 
 New Federal Song," although we know it now as 
 "Hail Columbia." 
 
 "And you, sir?" said Lettice to Mr. Clinton, 
 who, with a devilled crab in one hand and a sand- 
 wich in the other, was about to throw himself at 
 her feet. "You, Mr. Clinton, what do you think 
 of this war question ? " 
 
 64 
 
THE BARN FROLIC. 
 
 " It's all nonsense ! " he exclaimed with an amused 
 glance at her. " Surely, Miss Lettice, a pretty girl 
 doesn't need to bother her head about loans, taxes, 
 navies, and war news." 
 
 Lettice regarded him gravely. "I am, not so 
 sure about that," she rejoined. "I don't really 
 know all about it, but I don't think the British 
 have any right to steal our sailors." 
 
 "And what do you think of the letters-of- 
 marque and reprisal ? And will you favor me with 
 your opinion on carrying trade and the constructive 
 blockade ? " 
 
 Lettice looked bewildered, and Mr. Clinton 
 laughed. " I did but tease you, fair demoiselle. 
 'Tis not for ladies to bother their heads about 
 such things ; what concerns them more is a 
 question of a becoming gown or a new dancing 
 step. What, by the way, is this that I hear of 
 a dance in a barn ? May I hope to have the 
 honor ? " 
 
 "Yes, if you like." 
 
 "The first?" 
 
 "That is promised," returned Lettice, reluctantly. 
 
 "The second, then?" 
 
 "That, too." 
 
 "The third, then?" 
 
 65 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 "I told my Cousin Joe that I would give him 
 that, but — " 
 
 "Since he is your cousin, perhaps I can per- 
 suade him to exchange places with me, if you will 
 allow." 
 
 "Oh! ye-es," Lettice replied, trying to cover 
 her first exclamation of eagerness by a little show 
 of reluctance. " If you like, you can settle it with 
 Cousin Joe. I don't care." 
 
 Her uncle was watching her amusedly. "Don't 
 go over to the enemy, Letty," he said as she passed 
 him. 
 
 " No fear of that," she replied, laughing, but with 
 a little fluttering at heart. What was the use of 
 a girl's bothering about politics, after all, she 
 thought ; even James had said that perhaps a war 
 was not right, and — yes, of course she was what 
 her father was, but that didn't mean she could not 
 have friends on the other side. Look at Mr. 
 Kendall and her Uncle Tom, they were brothers-in- 
 law and friends, yet they didn't agree. So she 
 put all disturbing questions aside, and danced her 
 prettiest with this new gallant, feeling that she 
 was the envy of the older girls, for no one was led 
 out more gracefully than she, though all the neigh- 
 borhood was famous for its good dancers. The 
 
 66 
 
THE BARN FROLIC. 
 
 tobacco barn with its big floor was a fine place for 
 a dance, and the courtseyings and dippings and 
 bowings went on till all hours. The fashion of 
 round dances had not yet reached the place, and 
 more stately measures were used. 
 
 "Across there, where you see the lights twin- 
 kling, is Annapolis," Lettice told Mr. Clinton on 
 their homeward voyage. She had turned a cold 
 shoulder on Birket Dean, and was listening with 
 evident pleasure to the newcomer's low-spoken 
 words. " It was from there the Constitution sailed, 
 only last month ; we saw her go out. I wonder 
 what will be the next news," she said in one of the 
 pauses of the conversation. 
 
 " Still troubling your pretty head with such 
 matters?" returned Mr. Clinton, smiling at her. 
 " Rather let us speak of yonder moon sailing so 
 serenely across the heavens." And he began to 
 quote poetry to her, till she did indeed forget war's 
 alarms. 
 
 Lounging at Rhoda's feet, James every now and 
 then turned his curly head toward the slim girl 
 figure. She was very kind to him on this home- 
 ward trip, and they did not once get into an argu- 
 ment. 
 
 Joe and Patsey sat suspiciously close together. 
 
 67 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 They were both very quiet. " If I were going to 
 be married at Christmas, I wonder if I should find 
 no more to talk about than Joe and Patsey," 
 Lettice thought. But she did not know that the 
 wedding day was an indefinite matter, and that 
 Joe had just informed his sweetheart that he 
 should, in a few days, take command of one of 
 his father's clippers, and that his business would 
 be to harass English vessels whenever he could. 
 "I'd like to meet that wretched thief who stole 
 Pat Flynn," he said ; " I'd make him suffer for it." 
 But Patsey was silent. Privateering for her Joe ! 
 The uncertainty of the sea was bad enough, but 
 add to that the dangers of warfare, and it was too 
 much. The girl's heart was very full ; she could 
 only let her hand lie in Joe's strong clasp, and be 
 thankful for the present, for the future seemed 
 suddenly to slip into an impenetrable cloud. 
 
 At first Joe had urged an immediate marriage, 
 but Patsey shook her head. " You'll be back by 
 Christmas?" she faltered. 
 
 " Surely, unless — " His clasp on Patsey's 
 hand tightened, and he had no further words. 
 
 The little craft rounded Love's Point and turned 
 into the waters of the Chester River. " Your uncle 
 promises me some rare sport during the shooting 
 
 68 
 
THE BARN FROLIC. 
 
 season down here. The country is a very paradise, 
 not only because of its delights, but because of 
 the angelic beings who dwell here," Mr. Clinton 
 remarked sentimentally to Lettice. 
 
 "Angels?" laughed Lettice. "Do you perhaps 
 mean ghosts ? The darkies are dreadfully afraid 
 of them, and won't go near our graveyard." 
 
 " Have you a special graveyard of your own ? " 
 
 " Yes, haven't you ? Ours is such a quiet, dim 
 little corner of the plantation. It is all moss-grown, 
 and the trees are so thick and green there." 
 
 "Will you show it to me some day?" 
 
 " Yes, if you like ; but I don't believe I'd care 
 to go there at night myself." 
 
 " Not if I were with you ? Surely, you'd not be 
 afraid then." 
 
 " You couldn't keep off haunts," returned Lettice. 
 " Don't let's talk of them, it makes me creepy. I 
 like the place in the daytime, when the sun shines 
 in between the leaves and nickers down on the 
 headstones. It is pleasant to go there then, and 
 lie in the long grass, only I always like to have 
 Lutie, even then." 
 
 "And who is Lutie?" 
 
 " My maid. She belonged to my mother, and 
 was given to me when I was born." 
 
 69 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 " And your mother ? " 
 
 " She lies in the graveyard ; so does my little 
 sister. My eldest brother's headstone is there, 
 too." Lettice gave a sigh ; she always did when 
 she spoke of this brother ; a wild young fellow whc 
 had been a trial to his family, and who one day 
 set off for Norfolk with a set of roistering fellows, 
 as feather-brained as himself, and had fallen over- 
 board. A stone to his memory had been set up 
 in the family burying-ground, although his body 
 had never been recovered. This loss was the 
 shock which hastened his mother's death, and the 
 family rarely spoke of him. 
 
 Just then the old darkey who had been playing 
 such tunes as " Cooney in de Holler " and " Jim 
 along o' Josey " struck up a plaintive melody on 
 his fiddle. They were nearing home. Overhead a 
 waning moon was low in the heavens, athwart 
 which, now and then, sped a meteor; all was still, 
 save for the lapping of waves against the sides of 
 the boats or the sound of the light breeze in tht. 
 sails. One could not realize that soon from shore 
 to shore would reverberate the cannon's booming, 
 and that terror would overspread the fair and 
 quiet land. 
 
 70 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 Some Coquetries. 
 
 WHILE the long summer days lasted, Robert 
 Clinton remained a guest at Mr. Tom 
 Hopkins's. It was a pet scheme of Rhoda's father 
 that she should marry the young New Yorker, and 
 he trusted to his sister to further the scheme ; yet, 
 as is so often the case, neither of the two most 
 concerned seemed to evince any great heartiness 
 in the matter. Rhoda, as was proper, received 
 from Mr. Clinton such attentions as he was bound 
 to pay to the niece of his hostess, but there was 
 scarcely a day that did not see him riding down 
 the road toward the neighboring plantation of Mr. 
 William Hopkins, with the excuse to Mr. Kendall 
 that Will Hopkins had promised him a young 
 hound, and he wanted to look after the training 
 of the animal, or he and James were going crab- 
 bing or sailing. 
 
 On one of the days in the latter part of the 
 summer, Lettice was sitting on a sunken gray slab 
 in the old graveyard, with Lutie lying at her feet 
 
 7i 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 in the tall grass. Lettice was soberly setting neat 
 stitches in a delicate bit of cambric. There were 
 many things on her mind, and she had fled to this 
 quiet spot for reflection. She was silent so long 
 that at last Lutie raised a timid voice, " Huccome 
 yuh so qui't, Miss Letty ? " 
 
 " Because I want to think," returned Lettice. 
 
 Lutie raised herself on her elbow and peeped 
 through the thicket of green ; just beyond in the 
 garden old Unc' Eph'am was pottering about, water- 
 ing the flowers, which he did, rain or shine. It 
 was his only duty; and since the old man was fast 
 losing his wits, but still retained his habits, he 
 never failed to give the flowers their daily water- 
 ing, whether they needed it or not. " Dey a 
 gemp'an comin' up de lane, Miss Letty," drawled 
 Lutie. 
 
 " Is there ? " A faint little blush tinged Lettice's 
 cheek. 
 
 " Yass, miss. He dat dan'ified Mars Clinton, dat 
 ain't nuvver rid behin' de houn's, Jubal say." 
 
 "Jubal is a goose." 
 
 " Is yuh gwine to de house, Miss Letty ? Shall 
 I fetch yo book and yo wuck-bag ? " 
 
 A smile flickered around Lettice's lips. " No," 
 she answered, "I am going to stay here." 
 
 72 
 
SOME COQUETRIES. 
 
 Lutie sighed, and sank back again in the grass ; 
 she didn't "y'arn fo' de grabeyard" at any time, 
 and hoped for an excuse which would set her free 
 to go elsewhere. Lettice looked at her with an 
 amused expression. " I believe you are scared 
 to stay here, even in the daytime, Lutie," she 
 remarked. 
 
 "No, ma'am, Miss Letty, I ain't 'zactly skeert, 
 but I feels kin o' creepy when I sees yuh a-settin' 
 on yo gre't gran'daddy grabe." 
 
 "I don't see why." 
 
 "Kase he de one dat ha'nt de place," replied 
 Lutie, in a whisper. 
 
 "Nonsense! I don't believe it at all." 
 
 "Yass, miss, he do so ; he go on tur'ble, Jubal 
 say, uvver since Mars Torm go 'way." 
 
 " Hush, Lutie," said Lettice, peremptorily. " I 
 don't like such talk." 
 
 Lutie looked properly abashed and sought to 
 change the subject. " Is yuh skeert o' Poly Bony- 
 part, Miss Letty?" 
 
 " No ; why should I be ? " 
 
 "'Cause he a — a — . He mos' wuss an' anybody. 
 He got gre't big eyes, an' he tall as a tree, an' 
 he cuts off folkses haids if dey dar's look at him, 
 an' he go rampagin* roun' an' kills folks fo' fun. 
 
 73 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 Yuh reckon he uvver come dis way, Miss Letty? 
 When Jubal tell me 'bout him, I so skeert I pulls 
 up de kivers when I goes to baid, an' I keeps mah 
 haid un'er dem, an' I jes' shivers an' shakes." 
 
 "And let your feet stick out where he can 
 see them ; that's what you always do," Lettice 
 observed. 
 
 " Law, Miss Letty ! " Lutie sat up in alarm. 
 "Yuh talks lak you 'spected him." 
 
 Lettice's peal of laughter discovered her where- 
 abouts to a rather annoyed young man who had 
 been sauntering up and down the porch while 
 a couple of small negroes scudded upstairs and 
 down in a vain search for the young lady, and 
 before Lettice was aware of his presence, Robert 
 Clinton looked over the hedge, exclaiming tri- 
 umphantly : " Ah, here you are ; and this is the 
 graveyard that you would never show me. I 
 might have known that you would be in hiding 
 here." 
 
 " I'm not in hiding," Lettice replied, rising to 
 her feet. "It is one of my favorite retreats, as I 
 told you ; and if you had paid the heed to my 
 words that you pretend, you would have remem- 
 bered." 
 
 The young man looked rather disconcerted. 
 74 
 
SOME COQUETRIES. 
 
 "But, you know, you have always refused to come 
 here with me, and how was I to know the way?" 
 
 "You could have asked." 
 
 " May I come in now ? " he inquired humbly. 
 
 "I don't think my father would object," Lettice 
 returned demurely, and the young man vaulted the 
 hedge instantly. "You should have gone around; 
 at the other side there is an opening," Lettice 
 told him. 
 
 "I didn't see it. This is an interesting spot, 
 isn't it ? " he said, throwing himself down by her 
 side. " What fair, sweet flowers grow here ; but 
 the fairest of all — " 
 
 "Lutie," cried Lettice, "there's that old turkey- 
 hen now. I saw her run out from behind The- 
 ophilus Hopkins's grave. Go head her off. Excuse 
 me, Mr. Clinton, you were saying something about 
 flowers." 
 
 " I was saying," he returned, a little put out, 
 " that you have planted some very pretty flowers 
 in here." 
 
 " Oh, yes ; we like to keep the place as pretty 
 as we can. Come, we will go over there on the 
 other side of the hedge by that big tree. I have 
 been in here long enough. Was it warm riding 
 over? " 
 
 75 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 " Yes, more than warm, hot ; but there's a 
 refreshing breeze from the creek just here ; I'd 
 like to take you out there." 
 
 Lettice looked at him with a twinkle in her eye. 
 " You mean you would like me to take you out 
 there. You can't sail a boat." 
 
 "I can row." 
 
 "On this hot afternoon? No, sir." 
 
 "Am I never to see you alone for as much as 
 half an hour ? " 
 
 "Why should you?" 
 
 " Because I — Do you know what keeps me down 
 here ? " 
 
 "Politics, I suppose," returned Lettice, suavely. 
 " I suppose you are waiting to hear what Mr. Kendall 
 will report when he next comes from Washington, 
 and if it is news to your liking, you will start home, 
 and Rhoda — By the way, how is Rhoda?" 
 
 " She is well. I left her with your brother on the 
 porch." 
 
 "Jamie is a dear lad. So that is why you came 
 over, because your devoirs to Miss Rhoda were 
 interrupted by my brother ? " 
 
 " Now, Miss Lettice, you know my firmament con- 
 tains but one ruling star, and that is — " 
 
 "Not there, Lutie," Lettice cried. "I'll come 
 76 
 
SOME COQUETRIES. 
 
 and help you, or she'll get away. Excuse me, Mr. 
 Clinton, but I must help Lutie with that turkey-hen ; 
 she is so wild, and has a brood in the bushes. If she 
 once gets off in the woods, there'll be no catching 
 her again," and off she started. Then, after many 
 flappings of her sunbonnet to shoo the turkey-hen, 
 and many beatings about the blackberry bushes, the 
 creature was headed off, and Lutie was bidden to call 
 Anstice Ann to come and help to drive her up. 
 Then Lettice returned to her visitor. "You were 
 saying something about stars, weren't you, or was it 
 meteors ? Are you versed in astronomy ? What is 
 our evening star just now ? " 
 
 " I know but one, and that is a lode-star which is 
 both morning and evening star to me." 
 
 " Gracious ! you're like those children of Israel, 
 aren't you ? Oh, no, I mean — What do I mean ? 
 Did you ever go to camp-meeting ? " 
 
 "No, I never had that experience." 
 
 4 
 
 " Then you must go ; your education has been 
 sadly neglected, for you don't know about lots of 
 the things that we do. We always go over to Wye 
 Camp." 
 
 " Perhaps I shall not be here when it begins." 
 " Oh, shall you not ? I thought you were to stay 
 to learn to ride after the hounds." 
 
 77 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 " Learn to ride ! Do you suppose I never mounted 
 a horse ? " 
 
 " No, indeed ; but you've never been fox-hunting. 
 I expect you will enjoy it." 
 
 " If the fox is as elusive as — " 
 
 "As what?" Lettice looked up saucily. 
 
 The young man caught her hand. "You know 
 who eludes me and defies me and makes miserable 
 my days and nights, and makes me advance and 
 retreat till I am driven to distraction." 
 
 " No, does she ? What a wicked girl Rhoda is. 
 I never dreamed she could be so cruel. Thank you, 
 I do not need your hand to assist me to rise." 
 
 " You will not leave me yet ? Just one moment 
 more. I have not spoken to you alone for so long, 
 and you are so good to give me this opportunity." 
 
 "I give it? What do you mean, sir?" Lettice's 
 blue eyes grew dark with disapproval. 
 
 " You sent off your maid, you know," he mur- 
 mured deprecatingly. 
 
 "That you might speak to me alone? You are 
 mistaken, sir; it was all on account of the turkey- 
 hen ; I had forgotten your existence." 
 
 "Forgive me." 
 
 " I will try to ; but I am sorry I cannot listen 
 to your confidences about Rhoda. I forgot entirely 
 
 78 
 
SOME COQUETRIES. 
 
 that I promised Sister Betty that I would see to 
 the syllabub." 
 
 "You know it isn't Rhoda," persisted the young 
 man. 
 
 " Oh, isn't it ? Well, never mind ; it is Becky 
 Lowe, probably. She told me you were there last 
 week. No, another time. You will excuse me, I 
 know, and I shall see you at tea time. There 
 comes Brother William, if your call was upon him. 
 He will be glad to see you. Adieu." And Let- 
 tice, with work-bag dangling from her wrist, and 
 Moore's poems under her arm, ran swiftly up the 
 garden walk to the house. She held her sun- 
 bonnet closely together, and her hands were 
 covered with long sheepskin mittens, lest the sun 
 should mar the whiteness of her skin. Her sister 
 Betty met her by the grape arbor ; she was 
 similarly protected, and had a light basket on 
 her arm. 
 
 " Law, Lettice, what makes you run in the sun ? " 
 she said. "Why didn't you come around the other 
 way ? " 
 
 " I wanted the shortest way," returned Lettice, 
 panting a little, and letting go the strings of her 
 bonnet. 
 
 Betty looked at her quizzically. " I don't believe 
 79 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 I ever ran from a young gentleman in my life," 
 she said, laughing. "You ought to be ashamed 
 to be such a scare-cat, Letty." Then she seized 
 the sides of the girl's bonnet and looked fixedly 
 at her. "Lettice Hopkins, are you going 'way 
 off to New York with that Tory ? Do you mean 
 to separate yourself from your family and become 
 an English subject ? " 
 
 "'Deed I'm not, Sister Betty." 
 
 "Then go 'long into the house, and don't make 
 yourself look too bewitching at supper. I finished 
 the syllabub myself. There comes Birk Dean. 
 After all, perhaps you'd better not put on your 
 least becoming frock." And Lettice ran up to her 
 room, pouting. 
 
 It was not long before Lutie followed, and, after 
 much indecision and the turning over of many 
 gowns, Lettice was finally arrayed in a blue tissue, 
 made with a very short waist and a skimp skirt, 
 and around her shoulders was thrown a scarf of 
 India muslin. She descended the stairs demurely, 
 and walked out upon the porch, where her two 
 admirers sat looking daggers at each other. 
 
 "Since I leave the neighborhood to-morrow, per- 
 haps you will honor me with your company for a 
 walk," said Mr. Clinton. 
 
 80 
 
SOME COQUETRIES. 
 
 Lettice gave a quick side glance at Birket. "I 
 came over to see if you'd ride to camp this even- 
 ing, Miss Lettice," said Birket, blushing to the 
 roots of his hair. 
 
 " Has camp begun ? " Lettice asked ; then with 
 a little laugh, "I can't walk and ride both, can 
 I ? " She turned her smiling face to first one 
 and then the other. "I will tell you what we 
 will do : we'll get Brother William to let us have 
 the big wagon and the mules, and all go over 
 in a party; that will be much the best way. 
 Supper is ready, gentlemen. Mr. Clinton, will 
 you escort Sister Betty? She is just here wait- 
 ing for you to give her your hand." And in 
 the pretty old-fashioned way they were led out to 
 supper. 
 
 "Mr. Clinton leaves us, Brother William. Did 
 you say to-morrow?" said Lettice, turning to the 
 young man. 
 
 " I am going up with Mr. Kendall to Washing- 
 ton," he answered, without a smile. 
 
 " He will miss the fox-hunting, won't he, Brother 
 William ? I thought that was what you came down 
 here for." She turned again to Mr. Clinton. 
 
 "Washington isn't so far away but that he 
 can come back again," said William. " That's what 
 
 81 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 you intend to do, of course." He turned to his 
 guest. 
 
 "Perhaps," he replied, giving a meaning glance 
 at Lettice, who hastened to say lightly, "Then 
 it is not a long farewell." And she turned her 
 attention to young Birket Dean, who was mightily 
 complacent in consequence. 
 
 During the entire evening Lettice chose to 
 ignore Mr. Clinton, whom she relegated to a 
 place by Rhoda's side when the big wagon-load 
 of young folks started to camp-meeting. It was 
 no new experience to any of them except to 
 Rhoda and to Robert Clinton, who viewed the 
 proceedings with interest and with some wonder; 
 they were not used to seeing such exhibitions 
 of religious excitement at their own homes. 
 But instead of camp-meeting hymns, on their 
 way back, the young people started up such war- 
 songs as : — 
 
 " Too long our tars have borne in peace 
 With British domineering ; 
 But now they've shown that trade should cease, 
 
 For vengeance they are steering. 
 First gallant Hull, he was the lad 
 
 Who sailed a tyrant hunting, 
 And swaggering Dacres soon was glad 
 To strike to striped bunting." 
 82 
 
SOME COQUETRIES. 
 
 " Why don't you sing ? " Lettice asked Mr. 
 Clinton, with fun in her eyes. "Rhoda says you 
 have a right pretty voice. And you, Rhoda, are 
 silent, too. What is the matter? One would 
 suppose the same complaint had seized the two 
 of you and given you husky throats." 
 
 "Well, you see, I know Dacres," Mr. Clinton began. 
 
 " He knows Dacres ! Think of it, girls ! " said 
 Lettice, bent on teasing. "How proud he must 
 be of the acquaintance." 
 
 "I am proud. He is a gallant, brave fellow," 
 returned Mr. Clinton, in some heat. 
 
 " But that didn't save him from getting whipped," 
 Lettice chanted in glee. "Let us make our man- 
 ners, ladies and gentlemen, to a friend of Lieuten- 
 ant Dacres, who is a friend of England, consequently 
 no friend of ours." 
 
 "Now, Lettice," Rhoda interposed, "don't stir 
 every one up." 
 
 "You called for a song," cried Robert Clinton, 
 springing to his feet. "We will give you one. 
 Join in, Miss Rhoda." And he began: — 
 
 " Huzza for our liberty, boys, 
 These are the days of our glory ; 
 The days of true national joys, 
 When terrapins gallop before ye. 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 There's Porter and Grundy and Rhea 
 In Congress, who manfully vapor, 
 Who draw their six dollars a day, 
 And fight bloody battles on paper. 
 Ah, this is true Terrapin war." 
 
 But before they had proceeded very far with their 
 song, every lad in the wagon was on his feet, and 
 the Terrapin war was drowned out by the lusty 
 singing of : — 
 
 " Firm as our native hills we stand, 
 And should the lords of Europe land, 
 We'll meet them on the furthest strand ; 
 We'll conquer, or we'll die! " 
 
 And the discord of the two different songs strik- 
 ing the quiet of the. night, as they passed the 
 farm-houses along the way, brought more than one 
 person to the gate to see what was this noisy 
 crowd. 
 
 Hospitable, polite, and ready as they were to offer 
 their best to a guest, the young men of the party 
 showed some coolness to Robert Clinton when they 
 made their adieux; but Lettice, with a pricking of 
 conscience at having brought about the condition 
 of affairs which led to the situation, felt sorry for 
 the young man, and, leaning down from the wagon 
 as it stopped at her Uncle Tom's gate, she said in 
 
 84 
 
SOME COQUETRIES. 
 
 a soft whisper, "You'll be over to-morrow to say 
 good-by, won't you ? " 
 
 The young man, with a sudden lifting of the 
 gloom on his face, whispered back eagerly, " May 
 I come?" But the noise of the wagon as it rum- 
 bled off drowned Lettice's answer, if she made any. 
 
 85 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 A Ball. 
 
 BY the time the summer was over, many of 
 Lettice's friends had left the neighborhood. 
 Rhoda had gone to Washington to join her father, 
 who was still detained in the capital city. Mr. 
 Clinton, too, was there. In October both Mr. Tom 
 Hopkins and Lettice's father marched away to the 
 Canada border, and among the armed vessels which 
 Baltimore sent out to annoy the enemy was one 
 commanded by Joe Hopkins ; this had started down 
 the Chesapeake in August, and Patsey was wistfully 
 looking for news from her absent lover. Betty's 
 pleadings had kept her husband at home, so far ; and 
 Jamie, although he threatened each day to follow 
 his father, still lingered. 
 
 " You'd better stay at home and protect us," 
 Betty and Lettice would say. " Suppose the enemy 
 should come up the Chesapeake, where would we be ? 
 And if I were left a young widow, William, think 
 how sad," Betty would say as a final argument. 
 
 86 
 
A BALL. 
 
 "I think I will go to sea with Cousin Joe when 
 he comes back," James at last concluded. "I tell 
 you we're licking the British on the water, what- 
 ever we may be doing on land. Commodore 
 Barney captured fifteen vessels in the forty-five 
 days he was running along the coast, and news 
 has come that the Wasp has captured the Frolic, 
 and the United States has the Macedonian, if last 
 reports are correct." 
 
 " Good ! " cried Lettice. " I wonder how Rhoda 
 likes that." 
 
 James looked down, and with the toe of his boot 
 rolled over one of the hounds at his feet ; then he 
 looked up, saying, " And Robert Clinton, how do 
 you suppose he takes it ? " 
 
 Lettice gave her head a little toss. "What do I 
 care how he takes it ! Is there news from Canada, 
 Brother William ? " 
 
 "No good news. We must be content with our 
 victories at sea, for the present. Our little state 
 has nothing to be ashamed of in her naval exploits." 
 
 Just then the smart rap of a whip-handle on the 
 door announced a visitor, and Birket Dean walked 
 in. " I was coming this way, Miss Lettice," he 
 said, after greeting them all, "and I brought along 
 this letter that came for you on one of the boats." 
 
 87 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 "A letter?" Lettice eagerly held out her hand, 
 and tore open the letter fastened with seals, for as 
 yet envelopes were unknown. She gave her atten- 
 tion to the closely written pages, then looked up, 
 and said animatedly : " Oh, brother ! oh, Sister Betty, 
 Rhoda wants me to come to Washington for a 
 visit ! I should so love to go to see the President 
 and Mrs. Madison, and oh, do say I may go ! " 
 
 "Alone?" returned her brother William, smiling. 
 "You wouldn't expect me to leave Betty and the 
 baby to take you, would you ? " 
 
 "Jamie could take me. You would like nothing 
 better, would you, Jamie ? " 
 
 "I'd like to, yes; but — " 
 
 " Oh, well, never mind ; I can go as far as Balti- 
 more with Aunt Martha, and she can find some one 
 in whose charge to place me. I will see Aunt 
 Martha this very evening." 
 
 " Will you ride over with me ? " Birket asked 
 eagerly. 
 
 " Yes, if you will stay to supper. Here, Jamie, I 
 know you are dying to see this, and as there are no 
 secrets in it, you may as well have the pleasure of 
 perusing it." And Lettice tossed her letter to her 
 brother James. 
 
 It was a lovely ride down the road in the hush of 
 88 
 
A BALL. 
 
 an October evening ; the landscape, taking on an 
 autumnal hue, showed a soft envelopment of purple 
 mist. To the right lay the blue bay, across which 
 dimly appeared the spires of the little town of 
 Annapolis. 
 
 " It is truly a beautiful scene," said Lettice, gazing 
 around her. She looked like a bit of autumn her- 
 self in her scarlet jacket, and with the shining wing 
 of a swamp blackbird in her hat. She had, it is 
 true, some compunctions in accepting the wing, 
 being of a most tender heart. Birket had given it to 
 her, and "quieted her protests by telling her how the 
 thieving birds had stolen the corn and must be shot, 
 if the crops must be protected. " Better that than 
 to have them caught by a prowling beast, for we 
 shoot them and they die instantly, otherwise who 
 knows but that they may suffer tortures." 
 
 Lettice had stroked the bright feathers thought- 
 fully, saying, " Since he is dead, I may as well wear 
 his feathers, but bring me no more, Birk ; it makes 
 me sad to see them." 
 
 "And how about the foxes ? " Birket had said. 
 
 " Ah, the foxes, they are thieves, too ; but I always 
 shut my eyes when the hounds pounce on them. 
 "Tis a pity the world is not big enough for us and 
 them, too." 
 
 89 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 The conversation had taken place a day or two 
 before, for Birket was a frequent visitor. His 
 father's plantation lay on the other side of Mr. Will- 
 iam Hopkins's, but on account of the wrigglings in 
 and out of a little creek, it was easier reached by 
 water than by land. 
 
 " It is a truly lovely scene," Lettice repeated. 
 
 "And yet you want to leave it," Birket returned 
 reproachfully. 
 
 " So I do, for I love new scenes, and Rhoda says 
 there are many gay doings at the capital." 
 
 " It is not much of a place," Birket remarked ; 
 " not near so fine as Baltimore." 
 
 " No, of course not. Baltimore is the third city in 
 the Union. Nevertheless, seeing that I have been to 
 Baltimore and have never been to Washington, I 
 shall like to go to the least familiar place." 
 
 " Mr. Clinton is there ? " Birket asked hesitatingly. 
 
 Lettice gave her horse a gentle flick with her 
 whip. " I don't know," she said shortly, as the 
 horse changed his walk to a canter. 
 
 A few weeks later saw the two girls, Lettice and 
 Rhoda, together in Washington, Aunt Martha having 
 readily found an escort for Lettice in the person of 
 one Mr. Francis Key, whose affability and courtesy 
 lessened the tedium of the long trip, for it was a 
 
 90 
 
A BALL. 
 
 day's journey by coach from Baltimore to Washing- 
 ton. 
 
 Dark though it was when Lettice arrived, she 
 could perceive that Washington had little preten- 
 sions to being a fine place. After leaving the busy 
 city of Baltimore, with its forty thousand inhabitants, 
 its streets bright with lamps and full of the noise of 
 rushing feet, of singing sailors, and rumbling carts, 
 Washington, where scarce more than five thousand 
 persons dwelt, seemed little more than a village, full 
 of mud-holes, and showing a small number of houses 
 at scattered distances. Lettice, however, was not to 
 stay in Washington, for after the coach had rattled 
 over the newly laid pike, and she had dimly dis- 
 cerned the white walls of the unfinished Capitol, she 
 was helped down from her seat and entered a hack- 
 ney coach, which was driven up and down hi 11 ., over 
 Rock Creek, through mud and mire, until it arrived 
 in Georgetown, a more habitable place than that 
 which they had just left. Comfortable, spacious 
 houses stood to the right and left of them — houses 
 which to-day, dingy and dilapidated, give small evi- 
 dence of having witnessed the brilliant scenes once 
 of frequent occurrence within their walls. 
 
 Lettice was welcomed with more heartiness than 
 she had expected from the reserved Rhoda, and she 
 
 9 1 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 parted with her kind escort, after many thanks for 
 his thoughtful attentions. 
 
 " You must be sadly weary, Lettice," said Rhoda, 
 as she led her friend upstairs to a room overlook- 
 ing the blue Potomac. " I well remember how 
 fatigued I was when I arrived ; but I hope you will 
 soon get over your journey's effects, for there are 
 to be fine doings here next week, and you must be 
 in your best trim. Did you bring your prettiest 
 gowns ? " 
 
 " I did, indeed, and a new one is to be sent as soon 
 as the mantua-maker has it finished. Are you hav- 
 ing a good time here, Rhoda ? " 
 
 "Fairly pleasant, though the wretched war stirs 
 up all sorts of ill feeling, and one never knows what 
 will happen, or what unpleasant things one may 
 hear ; yet I have much less to stand than the Presi- 
 dent's wife, and should not complain." 
 
 " The President's wife, Mrs. Dolly Madison ? Is 
 any one so churlish as to show ill-will toward her ? " 
 
 " Indeed, yes. She is sometimes treated with 
 much discourtesy, because they impute all the woes 
 of the country to her husband." 
 
 " As if she could help that ! What gumps some 
 people be ! And have you seen Mrs. Madison, 
 Rhoda ? Do you know her ? " 
 
 92 
 
A BALL. 
 
 " I have met her several times, and she is a charm- 
 ing lady." 
 
 " And your beaux, Rhoda ? What of them ? " 
 The two girls looked at each other, and both blushed 
 faintly ; then Lettice, summoning up courage, asked, 
 "Are you promised to Mr. Clinton, Rhoda? " 
 
 Rhoda looked down and answered faintly, " Not 
 yet." 
 
 Lettice gave her head a little toss, and a haughty 
 look came into her dark blue eyes. "You mean 
 that you could be if you wanted ? " 
 
 " My father wishes it very much." Rhoda's eyes 
 were still downcast. 
 
 " Your father ? And how about you and the 
 gentleman himself ? " 
 
 "I don't know." 
 
 " Oh, you don't ? " There was some consolation 
 in this, Lettice thought, and she determined to watch 
 for herself. 
 
 The capital, raw and incomplete as it looked, still 
 furnished more gayeties than Lettice found at home. 
 Here were gathered the statesmen of the day, and 
 the girl was all eagerness to have this or that im- 
 portant personage pointed out to her. Henry Clay 
 and John C. Calhoun, John Randolph of Roanoke, a 
 great friend of Lettice's late travelling companion, 
 
 93 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 Mr. Frank. Key, and many other distinguished men 
 were to be seen in the city during the session of 
 Congress. The appearance of some of these rather 
 disappointed Lettice. She thought the President a 
 very insignificant person for so great an office, she 
 wrote home to James, and Mr. Randolph was the 
 oddest looking man she had ever seen. 
 
 " There is to be a great ball at Tomlinson's hotel," 
 was one of the first pieces of news that Rhoda gave 
 her friend. 
 
 "And shall we go?" Lettice asked. 
 
 " I am not sure. My father, you know, disapproves 
 of the war, but — " 
 
 " Mine doesn't," Lettice interrupted triumphantly, 
 " and perhaps I can get some one to take me. 
 Should you mind if I did, Rhoda ? " 
 
 "I should like to go, too," Rhoda returned, "for 
 there will be a most distinguished company present : 
 the President and Mrs. Madison, the Secretaries, 
 and — oh, everybody. It is to be in honor of the 
 capture of the Guerriere and the Alert." 
 
 "We must go, if there is any way," Lettice cried. 
 " Rhoda, tell me, do you really feel so incensed at 
 the idea of a war as you pretend ? " 
 
 Rhoda did not answer at once, and then she said 
 slowly, " I think with my father that it is unwise ; 
 
 94 
 
A BALL. 
 
 but once in it, I think we should do our best to 
 win." 
 
 " Good ! " cried Lettice. " I'd like to tell Brother 
 James that." 
 
 " Your brother James ? " Rhoda repeated a little 
 unsteadily. " Has he gone to the war ? " She had 
 not made any inquiry about him, and Lettice had 
 wickedly refrained from mentioning him. 
 
 " He hasn't gone, exactly. • He belongs to the 
 militia, and so does Brother William, but James 
 says when Cousin Joe comes back he intends to 
 join him, for he prefers service at sea." 
 
 " Your cousin Joe, then, has not come back yet ? 
 And his marriage, is it postponed ? " 
 
 "He has not returned, and the marriage has to 
 be put off indefinitely. Poor dear Patsey ! All those 
 pretty gowns waiting for her wedding day, and she 
 does not know when she can wear them ! Cousin 
 Joe made one short trip, and then came back to 
 Baltimore. He started out again, but not a word 
 has been heard from him." 
 
 " Poor Patsey ! " Rhoda looked very thoughtful 
 for a moment ; then she jumped up from the stiff chair 
 in which she was sitting. " I'll write a note, Lettice," 
 she said. " I don't doubt we can go to the ball if 
 you so desire it. I have friends at court, even if my 
 
 95 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 father does not uphold the administration. I can 
 write to Mrs. Paul Hamilton, who knew my mother 
 well, and has been most kind to me." 
 
 " The wife of the Secretary of the Navy ? " 
 
 "Yes, she has a son in the navy and a daughter 
 here. No fear, Lettice, but that we can go with 
 them, and take Mr. Clinton as our escort." 
 
 Lettice shrugged her shoulders, but made no 
 comment, though when it was known that they 
 were to go to the ball, she was in a twitter of 
 excitement, and declared she meant to captivate 
 the highest dignitary there, if she could. 
 
 "That will not be difficult," Mr. Clinton murmured, 
 for her ear alone. The girl turned, and gave him a 
 little scornful look. Despite the young man's efforts 
 at being polite and attentive, he had not met with 
 much encouragement, and never was allowed an 
 opportunity for one of those confidential talks he 
 had found so pleasant during the summer. 
 
 Into a gay and brilliantly lighted room in Tomlin- 
 son's hotel, on the night of December 8, 18 12, Rhoda 
 and Lettice entered. The former looked very fair and 
 elegant in her India muslin, her delicate features 
 and fair skin set off by a scarf of pale blue. Lettice, 
 with her brilliant color, her dancing curls, and pretty 
 figure, looked not less fair in her gown of pink, with 
 
 96 
 
A BALL. 
 
 her floating scarf of white, skilfully embroidered. 
 They had scarcely come into the ball-room, the 
 walls of which were decorated with the captured 
 flags of the Alert and the Guerriere, when there was 
 heard a great cheering and noise of excitement. 
 " What is it ? " whispered Lettice, half in alarm. 
 
 "Nothing to be terrified at, you may be sure," 
 returned Mr. Clinton, " for every one is smiling and 
 eager. See, Mrs. Madison is talking quite gayly." 
 
 Lettice stood on tiptoe the better to see, as into 
 the room trooped a crowd of young gentlemen all 
 escorting a young man who bore aloft a flag. 
 
 "'Tis young Mr. Hamilton," cried Rhoda. "See, 
 Captain Hull and Captain Stewart receive the flag. 
 They are taking it to Mrs. Madison. It must be a 
 captured flag." 
 
 Lettice watched while, amid resounding cheers, the 
 flag was placed by the side of those taken from the 
 Alert and the Guerriere. " It is a fine sight," she 
 exclaimed. " I am so glad I came ! " 
 
 She was so full of enthusiasm that she did not 
 notice that she spoke to a stranger, but the young 
 man addressed smiled down at her and replied : " So 
 am I. Have you heard what it is all about ? " 
 
 "No, please tell me." 
 
 " It is the flag of the Macedonian. She was cap- 
 97 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 tured on October 25, by Captain Decatur of the 
 frigate United States, and Mr. Hamilton has just 
 brought official notice of it to his father." 
 
 "Oh, thank you." Lettice's lovely eyes were 
 shining with delight. "I am so glad." 
 
 "Lettice," came Rhoda's voice severely. Then 
 Lettice realized that she did not know this young 
 man, and blushing, she followed Rhoda's lead. The 
 young man stood looking after them. " I wonder 
 who the dear little girl is," he said to himself. " I 
 must find out." 
 
 "Who was that, Lettice?" Rhoda asked. 
 
 " I don't know. Oh, Rhoda, I was so excited 
 that I spoke to him without realizing that he was 
 a stranger. I am afraid it was a dreadful thing 
 to do. Don't tell Aunt Martha nor Mrs. Hamil- 
 ton." 
 
 " No, I will not ; but you must not do such 
 things. I shall have to keep a strict eye upon 
 you. 
 
 " I am afraid you will," replied Lettice, meekly. 
 However, after the supper, when the manager of 
 the ball proposed as a toast, "Decatur and the 
 officers and the crew of the frigate United States," 
 and after the most exciting evening she had ever 
 known, as Lettice was about to leave the ball-room, 
 
 98 
 
A BALL. 
 
 she turned for one last, parting look, and from 
 across the room came a smile of recognition from 
 the strange young gentleman, and though Lettice 
 was following Rhoda most decorously, she could 
 not resist an answering smile as she turned away. 
 
 99 
 
CHAPTER VTl. 
 
 Captured. 
 
 BY this time the ports and harbors of the Chesa- 
 peake were declared in a state of blockade, 
 and after her visit in Washington was over, Let- 
 tice returned to Baltimore to hear that little fleets 
 of British ships were appearing off the coast. 
 
 "You are much safer here than at home," Mrs. 
 Tom Hopkins said ; " for if the British should come 
 up the bay, there is no knowing what will happen. 
 Think how they have burned and plundered lower 
 Virginia. We may yet see our homes in the coun- 
 try burned over our heads." 
 
 " Do you really think so, Aunt Martha ? " Lettice 
 asked apprehensively. 
 
 "One cannot tell," Mrs. Hopkins returned, shak- 
 ing her head. "Alas, this foolish war! It has 
 taken my husband from me and may rob me of 
 my home." 
 
 " Why don't you go to Boston when Mr. Kendall 
 and Rhoda go ? " Lettice asked demurely. 
 
CAPTURED. 
 
 "Because my duty is here," her aunt replied, a 
 little sharply. " I shall not neglect that for the 
 sake of my own comfort and convenience. I was 
 not brought up that way." 
 
 " Isn't it a pity that all the Massachusetts people 
 don't feel so ? " Lettice said slyly. 
 
 " Why, child, what do you mean ? " 
 
 "I mean that they don't want the war to go on 
 because it interferes with their comfort and con- 
 venience, and yet it is their duty to stand by their 
 country's rights." 
 
 "You don't know what you are talking about," 
 replied her aunt. "A chit of a girl like you 
 doesn't know anything about politics." 
 
 "I've been to Washington, and I heard, oh, so 
 much talk about it there ! I know all about war 
 matters," Lettice returned triumphantly. "You 
 ought to have heard Mr. Clay and Mr. Calhoun ! 
 And even Mr. Randolph, I believe, would think we 
 ought to defend ourselves if the enemy invades 
 the country." 
 
 Mrs. Hopkins went back to her first grievance. 
 "And they will invade it. Nothing but discourag- 
 ing news from your uncle, and no news at all from 
 Joseph. We are not strong enough to resist this 
 invading foe." 
 
 101 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 " But just look at the victories at sea ! " 
 
 " A few, to be sure ; but as soon as the British 
 are roused to a sense of the real situation, our little 
 navy will be wiped out. I am told that they have 
 said they will chastise us into submission." 
 
 "They will, will they? I'd just like to see 
 them ! " Lettice's eyes flamed, and she stamped 
 her foot in rage. 
 
 "Why, Lettice, what a temper you display!" said 
 Mrs. Hopkins, viewing Lettice's angry tears with 
 disapproval. "You never see Rhoda fairly cry 
 with temper." 
 
 Lettice's remembrance of Rhoda's reserved man- 
 ner and her quiet self-control served to calm her. 
 " I don't care," she said. " I know she boils inside, 
 whether she shows it or not." Then she sat very 
 still for a time. A picture of Rhoda's tranquil 
 face with its small features, her smooth light 
 hair, her neat slim figure, rose before her. She 
 wondered if at that moment she and Robert Clin- 
 ton were walking the streets of old Georgetown. 
 From this her thoughts wandered to the old grave- 
 yard, and she jumped up with a suddenness that 
 startled her aunt. " Do you suppose, Aunt Mar- 
 tha," she said, "that Brother Tom wasn't drowned 
 after all?" 
 
 102 
 
CAPTURED. 
 
 Mrs. Hopkins put down her work and looked at 
 her niece in surprise. " What in the world gave 
 you that notion, Lettice ? " 
 
 " I don't know. Often when I've been down in 
 the graveyard at home I've thought of it." 
 
 "His body was never recovered, it is true," 
 Mrs. Hopkins returned thoughtfully. " It is possi- 
 ble, but not probable, and I'd put any such notion 
 out of my head, if I were you. He was not only 
 a trial to your parents, but he was not a benefit 
 to society." 
 
 " No, he wasn't, and yet, at his best, he was a 
 dear fellow. No one was so thoughtful of mother, 
 and no one ever loved me so much as Brother 
 Tom. Nothing was too much trouble for him to 
 do for others, and if he had let those wild fellows 
 alone, he would have been all right." Lettice's 
 eyes were full of tears again, but this time they 
 were not tears of anger. 
 
 Her aunt viewed her with a puzzled smile. 
 "How you do fly from one thing to another, 
 child. One minute you are in a rage, and the 
 next you are melted to tears of sorrow. Come, 
 give that fantasy no more thought. Run down 
 and tell Mrs. Flynn that she must not let that 
 barrel of oysters go to waste, even if we have 
 
 103 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 them three times a day. We have such a little 
 family now that it is hard to dispose of things, 
 but with prices so high, there is need of econ- 
 omy." She sighed as she spoke, and Lettice, who 
 had been planning an excuse to get back to the 
 country, felt conscience-smitten, and would not 
 suggest such a thing, now that she realized how 
 utterly alone her aunt would be. 
 
 It was very dull for her in the quiet house, and 
 Mrs. Hopkins would not allow her to have even 
 Lutie. She endured Danny, to be sure, because 
 his master had a fondness for the little fellow, 
 and, moreover, he made himself useful in many 
 ways. But Lettice spent a tedious winter, and 
 though she tried to be patient, and did enjoy a 
 few frolics, she was glad to see the first signs of 
 spring. 
 
 All through the winter had come cheering 
 reports of naval victories of more or less impor- 
 tance. Many prizes had been brought in by the 
 Baltimore privateers and letters-of-marque, for this 
 city took the lead in sending out such vessels. 
 From the port of New York came the news that 
 Joseph had been successful in capturing more 
 than one English vessel, and had taken them into 
 the Northern ports. Thirteen merchant vessels 
 
 104 
 
CAPTURED. 
 
 were captured off the coast of Spain by one Balti- 
 more ship alone, and this record was equalled by 
 more than one gallant cruiser. Not a day passed 
 but news arrived of some valiant sea-fight. In 
 February Bainbridge took the Java. In March 
 the Hornet worsted the Peacock, and the names of 
 Hull and Decatur, Bainbridge and Jones, were on 
 every one's lips. Throughout all this naval war- 
 fare Baltimore was foremost in energetically show- 
 ing fight, and against the state of Maryland, in 
 consequence, the strongest enmity of the foe 
 seemed to be directed. 
 
 It was in April that Rhoda and her father 
 announced that they would return to Baltimore, 
 and then Lettice saw that her desire to go home 
 could be granted, and she wrote to her brother 
 James to come for her. James, nothing loath, 
 responded at once, so that he arrived in time to 
 welcome Rhoda. Under her father's watchful eye 
 Rhoda was not very demonstrative in her greet- 
 ings, and Mr. Clinton, following close in her wake, 
 was not received with much enthusiasm by Let- 
 tice — a fact he was not slow to notice and to com- 
 ment upon. 
 
 "I am coming down to Sylvia's Ramble again," 
 he whispered to Lettice. 
 
 i os 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 "When Rhoda comes, I suppose," Lettice 
 returned in chilling tones. 
 
 "Don't be jealous," Mr. Clinton begged. 
 
 Lettice turned upon him with scornful eyes. 
 " Jealous ! I jealous ? You are vastly mistaken, 
 sir ! " and not another word did she vouchsafe him 
 the remainder of the day. 
 
 The next morning early she and James started 
 down the bay on one of the packets running from 
 Baltimore to Queenstown. It did not seem possi- 
 ble to those whose plantations lay along the 
 inland creeks that the enemy could have any 
 object in penetrating into their part of the coun- 
 try ; yet at that very time the British were rav- 
 aging the southern shores of the Chesapeake, 
 plundering plantations, and carrying off not only 
 slaves and household valuables, but even robbing 
 women and children of their clothing. In spite of 
 their straits but little protection was given them 
 by the government — this partly because it was not 
 able — and the unfortunate inhabitants had to pro- 
 tect themselves as best they could. 
 
 On the morning that Lettice and her brother 
 departed there were lively preparations going on 
 in the city of Baltimore. Lookout boats were 
 established far down the river ; troops were sta- 
 
 106 
 
CAPTURED. 
 
 tioned along the shores, for the news had come 
 that the enemy was approaching, and that Balti- 
 more was to be the object of attack. 
 
 Mrs. Hopkins and the newly arrived visitors 
 absolutely refused to venture down the bay. "We 
 will escape in another direction, if need be," they 
 said. 
 
 "You mean you will stay to welcome your 
 friends, the British," Lettice said saucily. "That's 
 not what I will do. If we are to meet them, let 
 it be in our own home." 
 
 " Pray, Miss Lettice," Mr. Clinton said, "remain 
 with us. We will have the means to protect you 
 and your brother — a means which may be lacking 
 when you pass beyond our influence." 
 
 Lettice shot him a withering glance. "Your 
 protection, indeed! I'd rather die than be in- 
 debted to your complaisance for my safety ! " And 
 those ever ready and passionate tears began to 
 gather in her eyes. 
 
 Rhoda made a slight movement toward her, but 
 her father laid his hand on her arm and she passed, 
 pressing her lips tightly together. Lettice gave a 
 toss of her head, and said, " Come, Brother James, it is 
 time we were off ; the packet will be starting without 
 us." 
 
 107 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 "I most devoutly wish it would !" Mr. Clinton 
 exclaimed. 
 
 "Well, it won't ! " Lettice retorted, moving toward 
 the door. "Come, James, cut short your adieux. 
 Good-by, all of you. I leave you to the tender mer- 
 cies of Admiral Cockburn." And without a turn of 
 her head she hastened down the street. 
 
 James followed and overtook her at the corner. 
 "You are a spoiled little minx, Letty," he said. 
 " Why do you speak so disrespectfully to your elders ? " 
 
 " Do you perchance mean Robert Clinton ? Am 
 I to have such an inordinate amount of considera- 
 tion for him because of his advantage of a few 
 years ? " 
 
 " Oh, Robert Clinton, was it ? But you included 
 Mr. Kendall and Aunt Martha in your remarks." 
 
 "Well, if I did, I am glad; I'd not have had the 
 temerity to attack them but that I was so hot against 
 that weathercock." 
 
 " Weathercock, is it ? Humph ! " James was silent 
 a moment, and then he added, " Weathercocks seem 
 to be a product of New England." 
 
 " Are they then male and female ? " Lettice asked 
 mischievously. Then seeing her brother's face 
 looked really grave and troubled, she linked her arm 
 in his and said coaxingly : " Never mind, Jamie, there 
 
 108 
 
CAPTURED. 
 
 are as good fish in the sea as ever yet were caught, 
 and one doesn't need to go so far from home for them. 
 Let's whistle these weather-vanes off, and let them 
 whirl to the tune their north wind blows. Is that 
 the Patapsco ? I'm glad to be aboard her once more. 
 There seems to be a fair number of passengers in 
 spite of the alarms. We will have a right merry 
 time, I reckon. There is Becky Lowe, as I live ! and 
 Tyler Baldwin, and — Come, Jamie, help me up." 
 And in a few minutes a jolly little party was estab- 
 lished in one corner of the boat, Lettice and her 
 brother being welcomed heartily. 
 
 "I'm scared to death!" Becky cried. "Jamie, I 
 was so relieved to see you come aboard ; it guarantees 
 one more protector if we are attacked by the British. 
 You will fight for me, won't you ? " And she turned 
 a coquettish glance upon him, moving a little aside 
 that he might take a seat next her. 
 
 Lettice, leaning over the rail, watched the water 
 as the boat moved out of her dock and started down 
 the Basin, moving slowly between the shores now 
 showing their first suggestion of spring. 
 
 "Are you scared, Miss Lettice?" asked Tyler 
 Baldwin by her side. 
 
 "No, are you?" she asked, without raising her 
 eyes. 
 
 109 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 "Yes, for you." 
 
 Lettice looked up, startled. "What do you 
 mean ? " 
 
 " I mean that I wish to heaven that all the ladies 
 were safe inland, miles from the coast. I've no con- 
 fidence in our being safe, although the captain says 
 so." 
 
 "What would they do to us if they were to 
 take us?" asked Lettice, looking sober. 
 
 "They'd not treat you ill, I hope, but they 
 might scare you to death. Miss Lettice, I have 
 not seen you since your visit to Washington. 
 Did you enjoy the naval ball ? " 
 
 "You are changing the subject. Do I look 
 pale with fright ? " 
 
 " No, you do not ; but it is not a pleasant thing 
 to anticipate, and I should not have spoken of it. 
 Why harrow ourselves with what may not happen 
 at all?" 
 
 "Why, indeed. Yes, I was at the ball. How 
 did you know ? " 
 
 " I didn't know, positively ; I promised to find 
 out. I judged from the description given me by 
 one who saw you that it might be you whom my 
 cousin, Ellicott Baldwin, met." 
 
 " Is he a naval officer ? A young man ? Yes, 
 no 
 
CAPTURED. 
 
 I see, it is you of whom he reminded me. Did 
 he tell you- — Oh, Tyler, I hope he didn't think 
 me a forward piece. I spoke to him in a moment 
 of excitement, not realizing that he was a stranger. 
 How came he to mention it ? " 
 
 " He was most desirous of discovering who you 
 were. He could not learn your name, and the 
 best he could do was to find out the names of 
 your companions. When he told me who they 
 were, and described you, I was able to tell him 
 that I was almost certain that the lady of his 
 fancy was none other than Miss Lettice Hopkins, 
 of Queen Anne's County. Do not trouble your- 
 self over having met him in so chance a way; he 
 has only admiration for you, and spoke of you in 
 a most respectful manner. He told me of your 
 meeting, and some day — Heavens ! what is 
 that ? " 
 
 They both started up, for the boat was now 
 opposite North Point, and they saw bearing down 
 upon them several small vessels belonging to 
 the enemy's squadron which lay just within the 
 mouth of the river. Soon followed a scene of 
 confusion. Becky Lowe fell fainting into James's 
 arms. Lettice, with pale face and imploring 
 eyes, clung close to Tyler Baldwin. "What will 
 
 in 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 they do ? " she whispered. " Shall you have to 
 fight ? " 
 
 "It would do little good, and so I think the 
 captain will conclude. In such a case discretion 
 is the better part of valor. The captain, for the 
 sake of all concerned, will probably submit with 
 the best grace he can summon. We are not pre- 
 pared for a battle." And the event proved the 
 truth of his words. 
 
 "We are prisoners," said Tyler, after return- 
 ing to her from a tour of investigation. " All 
 we have to do is to make the best of k. 
 They are preparing to put us under guard, and 
 are helping themselves to whatever they can 
 find." 
 
 Becky had recovered sufficiently to sit sobbing 
 by James's side. He was trying to comfort her, 
 and looked pleadingly at his sister, that she might 
 understand that her assistance would be appreci- 
 ated. 
 
 "Come, Becky," said Lettice, in quiet tones, 
 "there is no use fussing over the matter. We 
 may be thankful that we are not hurt, and that 
 there is not going to be any fighting. I think 
 we should submit with dignity, and show them 
 what stuff American girls are made of." But 
 
 112 
 
CAPTURED. 
 
 Becky was not to be comforted at once and con- 
 tinued weeping hysterically. 
 
 "Law, Becky," Lettice said, at last out of pa- 
 tience, "you fairly provoke me. What is the use 
 of your snivelling and sniffling ? There is nothing 
 to be gained by it, and you only draw attention to 
 yourself; that is what you want, I shall believe, 
 if you don't stop. Look at Sally Weeks, she is 
 as still as a mouse." Nevertheless, in spite of 
 any effort to make light of the situation, it was 
 a hard ordeal for them all ; for instead of reaching 
 their homes that evening, as they had expected, 
 they were all night under guard, and the next 
 morning saw a wan and weary company. 
 
 " How much longer shall we be kept here ? " 
 Lettice asked her brother, wistfully. But the an- 
 swer came with the order to remove the prison- 
 ers to an old boat. " You are allowed a permit 
 from the admiral to proceed to Queenstown," 
 they were told, and they did not dare to resent 
 the impertinence of the message. 
 
 It was a long and uncomfortable trip which was 
 before them ; for with scarcely any food, and with 
 no water at all, after their night of detention, and 
 upon a miserable hulk of a boat, which made but 
 slow progress, it was as forlorn a company as one 
 
 "3 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 might wish to see, which at last landed at Queens- 
 town in Chester River. But the effect of this was 
 that not one of the party but felt that when the 
 moment came, he or she would do the utmost to 
 work revenge. 
 
 114 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 First Blood. 
 
 " •"^OCKBURN is coming ! " This was the news 
 V_-^ that was borne from lip to lip, and Lettice 
 was made to repeat her experience over and over. It 
 must be '.aid that she did rather needlessly enlarge 
 upon th<: terrors of the occasion when Lutie was the 
 listener; and the eyes of that sable maiden grew 
 bigger and bigger as Lettice described Admiral 
 Cockburn's appearance : a great big man, as tall as 
 a locust tree, with fiery red hair and blazing eyes and 
 a long - beard that blew out like the tail of a comet ; 
 so he appeared to Lutie's vision, her imagination 
 adding hoofs and horns ; and he became the theme 
 of Jubal's perorations, taking the place of " Poly 
 Bonypart " as a bugaboo to scare the children and 
 the more timid girls. And not without reason ; for a 
 terrifying account of a raid upon Havre-de-Grace 
 and other towns in the upper Ches&psake was cause 
 enough for alarm. 
 
 It was Birket Dean who came galloping ovei with 
 115 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 news : " Cockburn, with a big force of men, has been 
 playing havoc up in Kent and Cecil counties, and 
 even beyond. Havre-de-Grace has suffered ; every 
 one has been plundered, and the ravagers weren't 
 satisfied with that, but went up the Sassafras and 
 destroyed Fredericktown and Georgetown. They 
 say that the women pleaded and begged that he would 
 spare their homes, but he refused, and the houses 
 were burned to the ground ; and he says he'll not be 
 satisfied till he has burned every building in Balti- 
 more." 
 
 " Oh, does he mean to go there next ? " Lettice 
 asked in excitement. 
 
 " They say he doubtless did intend to, but he has 
 heard through his friends among the Peace men that 
 the lookout boats are stationed all the way down 
 the Patapsco, and that there are videttes along the 
 shores of the bay and the river, and besides, the City 
 Brigade will be ready for them. They fired alarm 
 guns in Baltimore and had all the troops out, but the 
 redcoats passed by Annapolis and Baltimore and 
 went to the upper bay. A great many people moved 
 out of the city, I am told." 
 
 " Do you suppose there can really be any danger 
 of their coming here ? " Betty asked, holding her 
 baby very closely. 
 
 116 
 
FIRST BLOOD. 
 
 The men looked at each other and were silent, 
 then William, caressing the top of his little son's 
 silky head, said, " If they do, we'll defend our 
 homes to the last drop of blood." 
 
 "And you'll not leave us, William?" said Betty, 
 scanning his face eagerly. 
 
 " My place is near home, I have determined," he 
 replied, smiling down at her. 
 
 The next few days brought tales of further 
 marauding ; tales of such horror that Betty and 
 Lettice clung to each other in terror. And, indeed, 
 the atrocities committed were such that in some 
 places the word " Hampton " was used instead of 
 "Attention" to call the men to order, and the 
 accounts of the terrible ravages lessened greatly the 
 number of those who opposed the war. 
 
 But as days went by and no Cockburn appeared, 
 the fears even of those most easily frightened were 
 quelled, and affairs went on as usual. 
 
 " It's desperately tiresome, this staying at 
 home," Lettice said to her brother James. " I 
 don't mean to do it any longer. Would there 
 be any harm, do you think, in our going out for 
 a wee bit of a way on the water ? We know full 
 well that the British are away down the bay, and 
 I haven't had a sail this many a day. Do take 
 
 117 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 me out, Jamie, or I'll go alone." It was a lovely 
 morning in July, somewhat warm, and promising 
 greater heat. Lettice sat discontentedly on the 
 lower step of the porch, looking off toward the 
 creek. 
 
 "You'll not go alone," said James, swinging 
 his long legs over the railing of the porch, and 
 sitting down beside her. 
 
 "Then you'll take me." 
 
 " Yes ; there's not a sail in sight, and I reckon 
 we'll have it all to ourselves, besides — " 
 
 "Besides what?" 
 
 " I think I'd like to be at Queenstown when the 
 boat comes in." 
 
 Lettice turned and looked at him. " Why ? 
 You have a reason. I see it in your eyes." 
 
 "So I have." He took a letter from his pocket 
 and held it off at a little distance. Lettice made 
 a grab for it, but he caught her hand, and laugh- 
 ing, held her firmly. " It isn't for you," he 
 said. 
 
 "Whose is it, then?" 
 
 "Mine." 
 
 "Let me see the handwriting. Please do, Jamie." 
 
 He held the letter at a careful distance, and 
 she read the address in Rhoda's neat hand : Mr. 
 
 118 
 
FIRST BLOOD. 
 
 James Hopkins. " From Rhoda ! Oh, is she 
 coming down on the packet ? " 
 
 "Yes, so the letter says, and will I meet her 
 and Aunt Martha. It seems that Aunt Martha 
 has been ill, and the city is hot, so she thinks she 
 may venture down to this neighborhood ; unwisely, 
 I think, with the enemy so near and ready to 
 pounce on us at any moment." 
 
 "Now, James, quit talking so to scare me. And 
 where is Rhoda's devoted cavalier, that she must 
 call on you for an escort ? " 
 
 "I do not know where he is; her father has 
 gone to Philadelphia, and probably the young man 
 is there too ; they seem to travel in company." 
 
 " I wonder if they went on the new steamboat. 
 I should think they would go that way ; such a 
 novelty as it is." 
 
 " Perhaps they did ; Rhoda does not say." 
 
 " Well come, then ; if we are to meet the packet, 
 we ought to be off. I hope there will be news from 
 father. It seems a long time between letters, and 
 so very long since we have seen him. I think I 
 will take Lutie along with me, and we can stay all 
 night at Sylvia's Ramble. I'll run in while you 
 get the boat ready and tell Sister Betty that we 
 are going." 
 
 119 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 " Don't go, Letty," Betty advised. " Suppose 
 you should encounter the British." 
 
 " We'll not, I am sure ; they are away off down 
 the bay, and we'll not go far." 
 
 "Well, I wish you wouldn't go at all. James 
 ought to have more sense than to take you." 
 
 " He had to, because I told him I'd go alone 
 if he didn't." 
 
 " Sauce-box ! you'd do no such thing." 
 
 "Wouldn't I?" 
 
 " Lettice, you wouldn't. Don't you ever dare 
 to do such a thing. Remember Hampton." 
 
 Lettice looked suddenly grave. "I reckon I'd 
 better not go alone," she said, as she turned away. 
 
 "It is such a lovely afternoon for a sail," she 
 remarked, as she settled herself in the boat. " You 
 don't expect to shoot any game, do you, Jamie ? 
 What's the gun for?" 
 
 "For defence, if need be, and this pistol, too." 
 He laid it down by the side of the gun. 
 
 Lutie put both hands to her ears. "Law, Mars 
 Jeems, yuh ain't gwine in de way o' dem Britishers, 
 is yuh ? " she asked in terror. 
 
 " I'm not going to get in their way if I can 
 help it, but they may get in ours. I think, after 
 all, Lettice, you and Lutie had best go back." 
 
 120 
 
FIRST BLOOD. 
 
 "Not I!" Lettice returned. "I'm here, and here 
 I'll stay, Britisher or no Britisher. I don't mean 
 to have you go alone ; besides, Aunt Martha is not 
 well, and I ought to go over as soon as I can, she 
 might need me." 
 
 " Rhoda said they might need me, not you." 
 
 " How self-satisfied some one is all of a sudden ! 
 I say they may need me. Now, push off ; there's 
 no use parleying. I'll jump in and swim there 
 if you don't hurry." 
 
 " I believe you are capable of it," Jamie returned. 
 
 "Of course I am. I am sure the packet would 
 not be running if there were any danger, and you 
 told me, yourself, that none of the enemy had 
 been seen around here." 
 
 " I know I did ; I would bear you back to the 
 house by force if I thought there would be any 
 danger for you. At all events, we'll trust to luck, 
 and get over to the landing as quickly as possible." 
 
 " We've plenty of time, haven't we ? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Then do let us stop at Betty's cove. Mrs. 
 Cooke promised me a plant, and I've long wanted 
 a chance to get it." 
 
 James consented, and before long they were turn- 
 ing into a little creek which lay back of Mr. Cooke's 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 property. The boat, however, hardly touched her 
 moorings before a shout was heard, and two men 
 started up from behind some bushes, crying : " Halt 
 '■.here ! We've got you, have we, you foul deserter ! " 
 
 James, who had scarce set foot on shore, turned 
 and dealt the man about to grab him a heavy 
 blow ; but before he could regain his footing upon 
 the boat, the second man gave a shout, and a couple 
 of others came running from a small boathouse near 
 by. The first seized James and dragged him off, 
 despite his manful resistance. 
 
 For a moment Lettice was nearly paralyzed with 
 fright, then she recovered her wits, and, grabbing 
 the gun, she pointed it at James's assailant. The 
 gun was heavy, and her hands trembled with the 
 weight of it. Suppose she should shoot wildly and 
 kill her brother. With a swift, silent prayer that 
 James might be spared, she took aim, fired, and 
 dropped the gun. " Hand me the pistol," she cried 
 to Lutie. " Run, Jamie, now's your chance ! " she 
 shouted, for one of the men holding James, being 
 wounded in the shoulder by the shot Lettice had 
 fired, had dropped his prisoner's arm ; and James, 
 with a wrench, tore himself from the remaining 
 hold upon him. 
 
 He had too often shared in the athletic sports 
 
Mtfttf^Mgxj^l^ 
 
 f Come on" she yelled. 
 
FIRST BLOOD. 
 
 common upon holidays not to be a good runner, 
 and he was but an instant in reaching the edge 
 of the water ; dashing in, he swam around to the 
 other side of the vessel, which was slowly drifting 
 farther and farther out, Lettice meanwhile stand- 
 ing resolutely pointing her pistol at his pursuers. 
 " Lutie," she cried, without turning her head, 
 "pick up that axe, and if any one dares to touch 
 this boat, brain him. You hear me ? " 
 
 Lutie, though quaking with fear, gained courage 
 from the attitude of her young mistress and picked 
 up the axe. " Come on," she yelled. " Come on, 
 yuh po' white trash, yuh ! Jes' lemme ketch one 
 o' yuh techin' mah young mistis, an' I'll lay dis 
 axe 'bout yo neck lak yuh was a chicken fo' 
 brilin'. Yuh ole good-fo'-nothin' tu'key buzza'ds, 
 yuh ! " She stood with axe raised, and the two 
 defenders of the little vessel did present such a 
 formidable aspect that the men fell back. Only 
 one or two were prepared to fire. They had been 
 disturbed in the taking of an afternoon nap, and 
 had previously divested themselves of all super- 
 fluous accoutrements. Therefore, though one or 
 two bullets whizzed across the bows of the vessel 
 as she retreated, not one touched the occupants. 
 
 Slowly, farther and farther out the little craft 
 123 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 floated, and finally James, who had scrambled 
 aboard, was setting sail for the opposite shore, and 
 told Lettice they were beyond danger. " I feel 
 like a cowardly wretch," he said, "to run from the 
 foe at the very moment you needed me for de- 
 fence. What would 'have happened to us all, but 
 for my brave little sister ? " 
 
 And then Lettice sank down and began to cry 
 hysterically, thus demanding Lutie's administra- 
 tions ; and for some time the maid found herself 
 fully occupied in soothing her young mistis. " Law, 
 Miss Letty, yuh is safe," she repeated. " Huccome 
 yuh cry when 'taint nobody daid?" 
 
 " I want to go home, I want to go home ! 
 Jamie, take me home ! " Lettice wailed. 
 
 "I will, sis. We are getting there as fast as 
 we can. Don't you see we have turned about and 
 are going back ? " 
 
 " And you won't go to meet the packet ? Say 
 you won't." 
 
 " Never mind about that now. If I do go, it 
 will be on horseback, and I will go around by the 
 road ; so you needn't worry about that." 
 
 "I don't want you to go," Lettice persisted. "I 
 don't want you out of my sight." 
 
 James laughed. "You're funny, sis. I can't 
 124 
 
FIRST BLOOD. 
 
 help laughing at you. A minute ago you were so 
 fierce and valiant, and now you're weeping and 
 going on like a baby." 
 
 "But you're all wet," sobbed Lettice. 
 
 " Suppose I am ? That's nothing ; and on a 
 hot afternoon, too. I have often been as wet as 
 this when I've been out ducking, and when it was 
 a good bit colder. Come, sit up here and help me. 
 We shall have to tack across, for the wind has 
 died down." 
 
 " You are sure you are not hurt at all ? " said 
 Lettice, drying her eyes. 
 
 " No, not a bit. I look rather the worse for 
 wear, that is all." 
 
 "It was so awful to see them dragging you 
 off," and Lettice burst into tears again. 
 
 "They didn't drag me very far, did they? 
 Thanks to my little soldier girl of a sister. There, 
 honey, don't cry any more ; we're nearly home." 
 And he hugged and petted her till, by the time 
 they reached their own landing, she had some- 
 what calmed down. But as James led her up the 
 steps to her sister Betty, she lapsed again into a 
 woful state, and it required the combined efforts 
 of Mammy, Dorcas, Lutie, and Betty to quiet her ; 
 for one minute she would burst into wild laughter 
 
 12 5 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 as she looked at Lutie, and would say, "She 
 looked so funny standing there threatening to 
 chop off their heads like chickens," and then she 
 would fall to weeping because it was so awful to 
 see them dragging off her brother. At last, under 
 the combined effects of red lavender, salts, and 
 finally a mint-julep, she fell asleep. "I don't 
 trust you off this place again without me," said 
 Betty, bending over the exhausted little figure and 
 kissing the white forehead around which damp 
 curls clustered. And with Mammy to fan her on 
 one side, and Lutie on the other, she was left in 
 the quiet of her own room. 
 
 James hurried off his wet clothes, donned another 
 suit, and springing upon his horse, galloped across 
 country to the landing, arriving just in time to 
 see the packet come in, and to welcome his aunt 
 and Rhoda. A flush mounted to his face when he 
 saw in attendance Mr. Robert Clinton. "I don't 
 see what they needed me for," he muttered. 
 
 " Mr. Clinton surprised us by arriving from 
 Philadelphia last night," Rhoda told him. "My 
 father was not willing that I should come down 
 here, he sent word." 
 
 "But you came. Why?" 
 
 " Because it is my duty to remain with my aunt, 
 126 
 
FIRST BLOOD. 
 
 and I cannot let my personal convenience stand in 
 the way of duty," replied Rhoda, a little primly. 
 
 " And Mr. Clinton came because it was his duty, 
 or because you did, which ? " said James, in a 
 vexed tone. 
 
 " My father would have it so. When he learned 
 that I intended to remain with Aunt Martha, he 
 said that he should prefer that we have the pro- 
 tection of either Mr. Clinton or himself, and since 
 his affairs did not permit of his presence here 
 just now, he sent Mr. Clinton." 
 
 " I see." James looked at her fixedly, and she 
 looked down, blushing faintly. 
 
 " Where is Lettice ? " she asked, to turn the sub- 
 ject. James told her of their late experience. 
 
 Rhoda shivered. "Is it as bad as that ? " she 
 asked. 
 
 "Yes, and may be worse. I wish you had not 
 come down." 
 
 Rhoda bit her lip. " Aunt Martha insisted," she 
 murmured. 
 
 "Unwisely, I think. I should advise that you 
 return at once." 
 
 Rhoda shook her head. " I will stay as long as 
 Aunt Martha does. She will need me." 
 
 " But you will persuade her that there is danger ? " 
 127 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 "I will try." 
 
 But Aunt Martha, once she took a decision, was 
 not to be moved, and she refused utterly to return 
 to the city, saying that her husband's interests 
 demanded her presence on the plantation, and she 
 felt it her duty to remain at all hazards. " The place 
 will go to rack and ruin while he is away, if I don't 
 look out for it," she declared, "and I cannot neglect 
 my husband's affairs when he is away. I am willing 
 to take the risks, for I think my presence may be a 
 saving means for us all, in case of a visit from those 
 bands of foragers." 
 
 And therefore Lettice heard with mixed feelings 
 that her uncle's home was likely to hold for some 
 time, not only her aunt and Rhoda, but Robert 
 Clinton. 
 
 128 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Love and Politics. 
 
 THE presence of the enemy in the neighbor- 
 hood convinced every one of the necessity of 
 taking every precaution to protect themselves and 
 their property. At first alarm many persons had hid- 
 den their plate and other valuables, and many had 
 sent their families farther inland. But beyond the 
 discomforts occasioned by raids, when houses were 
 sacked and often burned to the ground, and when 
 slaves were enticed away, the people of Maryland 
 did not suffer as much as did those of lower Virginia. 
 Where there was no marked resistance, and where 
 there was no reason to suppose the heads of families 
 were in the American army, allowance was made for 
 property taken, and pay given. Therefore Aunt 
 Martha had reason on her side when she said, " I 
 shall simply let them take what they want and shall 
 expect pay for it." 
 
 " That is not what we will do," Lettice said. " We 
 are not going to pretend that we are friends, but of 
 
 129 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 course it is different with you, Aunt Martha." Let- 
 tice had recovered from her fright and was really 
 enjoying life. If James lost no opportunity in visit- 
 ing Sylvia's Ramble, neither did Robert Clinton fail 
 to make a daily appearance at Hopkins's Point, till 
 Lettice came to look for his coming as part of her 
 day's pleasure. He was truly a very attractive young 
 man, every one conceded. 
 
 "I haven't a word against him," said Lettice's 
 brother William, " except for his politics. You'll not 
 go over to the enemy, will you, sis ? " he said, pinching 
 her cheek. 
 
 " Never ! " returned Lettice, steadily. Nevertheless, 
 the telltale blush upon her cheek was not caused by 
 the pink sunbonnet she wore. The little maid of 
 seventeen found it hard to remember her politics 
 when she was listening to the beguiling words of the 
 young New Yorker, who by this time had declared 
 himself her devoted suitor. 
 
 "Why do you deny me, sweet Lettice?" he said. 
 " Must I leave you altogether ? Am I so hateful to 
 you ? " This was but the night before, when the two 
 were coming home from a frolic at Becky Lowe's. 
 
 "There is Rhoda, you know," Lettice had answered 
 in a low tone. 
 
 " Rhoda, yes ; but — " he looked down as he gath- 
 130 
 
LOVE AND POLITICS. 
 
 ered Lettice's hand in his — " but you see, I don't love 
 Rhoda, nor does she love me." 
 
 " How do you know ? " Lettice asked, wondering 
 if it were right to allow her hand to lie so long in his 
 clasp. 
 
 " I know that Rhoda feels toward me as I do toward 
 her. We are excellent friends. I admire and re- 
 spect her greatly, and to no one would I be more 
 ready to give my confidence, for she is discretion 
 itself ; but I know full well who it is that has cap- 
 tured my heart, and besides, did you see your brother 
 James and Rhoda as we passed them just now? I 
 do not think they were thinking of either of us." 
 
 " No, I did not notice them, I wasn't looking ; 
 besides, Rhoda doesn't love James's politics any more 
 than I do yours." 
 
 " Politics ? What have sweet lasses like you to 
 do with politics ? Let the men settle the affairs 
 of the nation, and let the maidens rule in the 
 court of love, where they are more at home." 
 
 Then Lettice sighed and did not draw her hand 
 away. The witching moonlight, the summer night, 
 the low pleading tones of her lover — all these cast 
 a glamour over her, and so swayed her that it 
 seemed that the present alone were the only thing 
 to consider, and Robert walked across the fields 
 
 131 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 to Sylvia's Ramble, feeling that his wooing would 
 soon come to a happy ending. 
 
 And yet, the next morning Lettice said never 
 would she go over to the enemy. " I told Brother 
 William I never would. I have promised him," 
 she said to herself, as she ran swiftly along 
 the path to the old graveyard. Lutie started up 
 from where she was sitting before one of the 
 cabins in the quarter, but Lettice waved her back. 
 " I don't want you, Lutie," she said. " You can 
 go back.'' 
 
 "Whar yuh gwine, Miss Letty?" 
 
 "Never mind where I am going. I don't need 
 you, and I don't want you to follow me. Stay 
 where you are." 
 
 " Miss Letty gwine whar she gwine. She got 
 no use fo' nobody dis mawnin'," Lutie remarked 
 to the old woman before whose cabin she sat. 
 
 Lettice made a detour and came around by the 
 rear of the old graveyard. The thicket was closer 
 here, and hid her from the view of any one passing. 
 She threw herself down in the long grass, hiding 
 her face in her arm. " I said that, and I am 
 afraid I am growing to love him," she murmured. 
 " I have made one promise to my brother, and 
 how can I make another to him?" She lay still 
 
 132 
 
LOVE AND POLITICS. 
 
 a long time, and once in a while a tear trickled 
 down her cheek. 
 
 Presently she sat up. A sudden thought had 
 struck her. Suppose she could win her lover over 
 to her side of thinking. That would be a triumph 
 indeed ! Why shouldn't she ? Did he love her, he 
 certainly would not give her up ; yet as she pon- 
 dered upon the subject, she felt that she was by 
 no means certain of the success of her effort, and 
 her face grew grave again. 
 
 From over the hedge came a voice, calling 
 softly, " Lettice ! Sweet Lettice, where have you 
 hidden yourself?" 
 
 She sprang to her feet and stood where she 
 could be seen. Robert pressed aside the detaining 
 vines and came up to her. " Lettice, sweetheart, 
 I could not stay away. Do you forgive me for 
 coming so early ? Was it a dream ? a beautiful 
 dream which I had last night, or did I see a light 
 in your dear eyes ? I love you so, sweet Lettice, 
 that I could not sleep last night for thinking of 
 you." He gently pushed back the sunbonnet she 
 had drawn over her face. "Sweetheart, you have 
 been weeping," he said in a troubled tone. "Your 
 sweet eyes are wet. What is wrong ? " 
 
 Lettice gave a little sob, and for one moment 
 i33 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 yielded to the clasp of his arm, burying her hot 
 face on his breast. She felt a sudden joy to be 
 thus near him, to hear him speak, but only for 
 an instant she allowed herself to remain thus, and 
 then she sprang away, and stood a little beyond 
 him. "Tell me," she said, "do you love me 
 enough to join the cause of my father and my 
 brothers?" 
 
 He looked at her gloomily, and then, leaning on 
 the tall headstone which her movement had placed 
 between them, he said slowly : " Do you make that 
 an issue between us ? You love me less than you 
 love the platform upon which rests the opinion of 
 certain members of your family?" 
 
 She looked troubled in her turn. There was a 
 long pause. An utter stillness prevailed. Once in 
 a while a bird darted from the faintly rustling 
 leaves. The distant sound of water plashing 
 against the side of the bay shores, or the mur- 
 mur of voices from the fields struck their ears. 
 Lettice noted these things unconsciously, and with 
 them the faint odors of the growing greenness 
 about her, and the shapes of the shadows on the 
 grass. She drew a long breath. "You do not 
 love me, if you are willing to lose me because I 
 love my country." 
 
 i34 
 
LOVE AND POLITICS. 
 
 "It is my country, too. There is not a differ- 
 ence in our love for our native land, but in our 
 belief in what is good for her. I believe that 
 the war is unrighteous and will be the country's 
 ruin. I am hostile to nothing except the war. I 
 am for peace at any cost. You pin your faith on 
 your father's beliefs, that is all ; and it cannot, it 
 shall not, separate us." He made a step toward 
 her, but she drew back. 
 
 "No, no," she cried. "While my father is fight- 
 ing on the Canada border, so far away, perhaps 
 at this moment lying wounded, or dead," she 
 whispered, "can I promise myself to one who is 
 willing to encourage his foes to work his destruc- 
 tion ? No, I cannot, I cannot ! " 
 
 The young man turned aside and leaned heavily 
 against a gnarled old tree which overshadowed 
 them, and again there was silence. When Robert 
 spoke, it was very quietly. " That I would encour- 
 age a foe of yours is a thought too terrible to 
 contemplate ; that I could ever do aught to bring 
 you one moment's pang seems to me impossible. 
 The war cannot last. I do not give you up, I 
 but wait till the war is over, and then — Lettice ! " 
 He held out his hands yearningly, but she did not 
 move. "Promise me, dearest, promise me, that 
 
 i3S 
 
A HEROINE OF i8i4. 
 
 when the question is settled, that you will no 
 longer deny me my place, and meantime keep me 
 in your heart." 
 
 "Provided you do us no wrong, provided you 
 do nothing to bring trouble upon us, after the 
 war — I will — consider it." 
 
 " Even that ray of hope is much. I make this 
 concession, and you, dearest, can never know what 
 it costs : I promise to take no active part in the 
 measures against the carrying on of the war. I 
 have been an earnest partisan, I acknowledge ; yet 
 I will henceforth be a neutral. God forgive me, 
 if I am wrong ; if to win your favor is more to me 
 than the approval of my countrymen. Can you 
 not give me a proof of a like measure of love ? " 
 
 " If when the war is over, you come to me with 
 hands unstained, and with a conscience clean of 
 having done no injury to our side, I think I may, 
 perhaps, be ready to promise you — what you ask." 
 She hung her head, and the last words were in a 
 whisper. 
 
 "And you will seal the bond, beloved, you 
 will ? " He advanced and would have kissed her, 
 but she retreated, crying : — 
 
 "No, no, the war is not over yet." She spoke 
 gayly, however, and held out her hand, which he 
 
 136 
 
LOVE AND POLITICS. 
 
 pressed to his lips. But just then Lutie's voice 
 broke in upon them. 
 
 " Miss Letty, Miss Betty say huccome yuh fo'git 
 yuh-alls is gwine to yo Aunt Marthy's to dinner? 
 She say yuh bleedged ter come an' git dressed 
 e'ssen dey leave yuh 'thout nothin' but cold pone." 
 Lutie's giggle followed the message, and Lettice, 
 with Robert at her side, took her way to the 
 house. 
 
 " Law, Letty," cried Betty, meeting her in the 
 hall, "you certainly are feather-brained these days. 
 Here I am all ready, and you are mooning about, 
 nobody knows where. It is high time we were off. 
 This is to be a state dinner, remember, and Aunt 
 Martha will never forgive us if we are late." 
 
 " I didn't know what time it was," said Lettice, 
 as she ran upstairs. 
 
 Aunt Martha's state dinners were rather dreary 
 affairs. Solemn dinings to which dignified heads 
 of families were invited. In this instance it was 
 in honor of an elderly bride that the invitations 
 were sent out. One of Mr. Hopkins's cousins had 
 taken to himself a second wife, and Lettice did 
 not anticipate any great joviality ; yet her hopes 
 were high, for she had gained a great point, she 
 considered. Robert would be true to his promise, 
 
 i37 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 she knew he would ; and if the war would but end, 
 then he would make his request of her father in 
 proper form, and her father would not refuse. 
 She was entirely unworldly in her thought of it all, 
 and hardly gave a passing consideration to the fact 
 that her lover was a wealthy man, and considered 
 an excellent match ; all that troubled her was his 
 politics. She stopped so often, and was so pre- 
 occupied in the making of her toilet, that Lutie 
 finally exclaimed : • — ■ 
 
 " Yuh sholy mus' be in lub, Miss Letty. Yuh 
 ain't gwine put on bofe dem scarfs, is yuh ? " 
 
 Then Lettice laughed and told Lutie she was a 
 saucy minx, that if she didn't behave she should 
 be sent out with the field hands. And Lutie, who 
 knew just what that threat amounted to, having 
 frequently heard it before, giggled and further re- 
 marked that : " Mars Clinton a mighty fine gemman," 
 and when Miss Letty went to New York to live, 
 Lutie hoped she wasn't " gwine be lef behin'," for 
 which speech she received a rap of Lettice's 
 knuckles, and then mistress and maid descended 
 the stairs, the latter as proud of her young lady, 
 in her best summer attire, as the young lady was 
 of herself. 
 
 It may have been that Lettice was not willing 
 1 <8 
 
LOVE AND POLITICS. 
 
 to risk sitting by Betty's side under the ardent 
 gaze of her lover on the opposite seat of the car- 
 riage, and with Betty to watch every glance of his 
 eye, for at the last moment she declared that she 
 wanted Jamie to drive her over, and would wait 
 for him, and wouldn't the others please go on 
 without her. 
 
 "You are a contrary little piece," said Betty, 
 out of patience. " Here you have kept us waiting 
 all this time, and now you won't go with us. 
 Why didn't you say so in the first place?" 
 
 " I didn't think of it," returned Lettice, calmly. 
 "You flustered me so by telling me it was late, 
 that I forgot about Jamie." And seeing she was 
 bound to have her own way, Betty and Mr. Clinton 
 drove off without her. 
 
 The company had all assembled when the last 
 guests from Hopkins's Point reached Sylvia's Ram- 
 ble, and Lettice wished she had come earlier 
 when she saw that Mr. Clinton was at the gate 
 to meet her, and that with him in attendance 
 she would be obliged to pass under the scrutiny 
 of a dozen mature cousins, each of whom felt it 
 a prerogative to make as many personal remarks 
 as he or she desired ; so that the girl was glad to 
 escape with Rhoda, who, thor h critical, was not 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 so aggressively candid as one's relative are likely 
 to be. 
 
 The guests, although knowing that Mrs. Tom 
 Hopkins was a Boston woman, supposed her frankly 
 siding with her husband, and therefore they did 
 not scruple to discuss at the dinner-table politics 
 from their point of view. News of the Remon- 
 strance Act of Massachusetts had just been re- 
 ceived, and those favoring the war policy were 
 hot against the Bay State, and did not hesitate 
 to voice their feelings. 
 
 "With our brave Lawrence not cold in his grave," 
 said Mr. Jacob Seth, "the Massachusetts people 
 adopt a resolution that it is not becoming a moral 
 and religious people to express any approbation of 
 military or naval exploits not immediately con- 
 nected with the defence of their sea-coast and 
 their soil." 
 
 "And it was in Boston harbor that the fight 
 between the Chesapeake and the Shannon took 
 place," said another guest. 
 
 Rhoda bit her lip and glanced quickly at James, 
 who regarded her with an amused look, while 
 Lettice's eyes sought Robert. His face was 
 flushed, and he was looking steadfastly into his 
 plate. 
 
 140 
 
LOVE AND POLITICS. 
 
 "Massachusetts believes the war to be caused 
 by ambition and desire for conquest," put in Aunt 
 Martha, stiffly. 
 
 "I beg your pardon, Cousin Martha," said Mr. 
 Seth, "we forget that you are not a Marylander. 
 Cousin Tom has taken such a decided stand, that 
 we do not realize that perhaps you may be less 
 enthusiastic. The women of our land whose hus- 
 bands have gone to the war could scarcely be ex- 
 pected to approve it." 
 
 " It is not a cheerful subject, anyhow," the bride 
 remarked. 
 
 " And I am sure the occasion warrants a livelier 
 one," returned Mr. Seth, gallantly. And they fell 
 to chaffing each other, and in the end, Lettice 
 declared a more pleasant dinner she had never 
 enjoyed at Aunt Martha's. 
 
 " I am surprised that Robert did not immediately 
 take up the cudgels ; he is not wont to be so circum- 
 spect," said Rhoda, musingly, as she and Lettice 
 were walking in the garden. 
 
 " Isn't he ? " returned Lettice. " Perhaps we are 
 converting him to our way of thinking." 
 
 " That would scarcely be possible," Rhoda replied. 
 " He is pledged to support his cause, and is too 
 ardent an adherent to give in easily. My father 
 
 141 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 says he is a strong aid to him, and he depends 
 much upon him in various important matters, 
 although Robert is so much the younger." 
 
 "I suppose that is true," said Lettice, thought- 
 fully. " I do not wonder, then, that he is anxious 
 that you should be fond of each other. How about 
 it, Rhoda ? " she asked teasingly. 
 
 Rhoda showed no special emotion except by the 
 nervous closing of her hand. "When the war is 
 over," she replied, "these vexing, political prob- 
 lems will not interfere with our decisions in other 
 directions, as now they must do." 
 
 "That is very true, Rhoda," Lettice answered 
 softly. " Let us suppose the war over, and each 
 of us free to act as she would ? Is there then no 
 reason why you should not favor Mr. Clinton ? 
 What says your heart ? " 
 
 Rhoda looked her squarely in the eyes. "I ad- 
 mire Robert. I have known him since I was a 
 little child. He is entirely worthy any woman's 
 regard." Then suddenly. "And you? What 
 does your heart say ? " 
 
 Lettice looked confused ; then she replied, laugh- 
 ing, " I'll tell you when the war is over." 
 
 Rhoda regarded her gravely. " Robert Clinton 
 will never desert his party," she said; "and I 
 
 142 
 
LOVE AND POLITICS. 
 
 think he will spare no means to forward the inter- 
 ests of those whose opinions he endorses." 
 
 " Perhaps," Lettice returned lightly ; " but men 
 are not infallible. The best of them are mistaken 
 sometimes, and he may yet change. Rhoda, would 
 or could any one in the world make you differ from 
 your father in politics ? " 
 
 Red grew Rhoda's cheeks. " I don't know," 
 she returned faintly. 
 
 «43 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 Suspicions. 
 
 SO far, with the exception of the raid into the 
 upper Chesapeake, the eastern shore of Mary- 
 land had not suffered greatly from the enemy's 
 depredations, but during the spring and summer 
 of 1813, St. Mary's County, on the western shore, 
 was seldom safe from marauders, who plundered 
 and burned and destroyed till the people were 
 reduced to extreme poverty. The men compelled 
 to perform constant military duty received no 
 help from the government, and in consequence 
 of the deplorable condition of affairs, many took 
 their families and emigrated to the far West. Dur- 
 ing the summer over one thousand volunteers 
 and recruits were sent from Maryland to the 
 Canada border, sadly as their help was needed at 
 home. 
 
 Many of the people of the Eastern shore, with 
 the enemy terrorizing them, likewise abandoned 
 their homes ; for Kent Island, a point lying directly 
 
 144 
 
SUSPICIONS. 
 
 opposite the city of Annapolis, was taken posses- 
 sion of by the enemy early in August, and when 
 three thousand British troops landed, it was to 
 find but a small remnant of the population left. 
 From this point foraging expeditions were con- 
 stantly sent out, keeping the inhabitants of the 
 neighboring shores in a constant state of uneasi- 
 ness. On August 8, three ships of the line, five 
 frigates, three brigs, two schooners, and some 
 smaller vessels, advanced toward Baltimore, but 
 the prompt appearance of those who were deter- 
 mined to defend the city, and the visible prepara- 
 tions which had been made, were sufficient to 
 ward off any attack, and the enemy moved off and 
 threatened Annapolis which lay across the bay 
 from their station on Kent Island. Here likewise 
 there was no lack of preparation, and the British 
 finally withdrew. 
 
 All this set astir those in the neighborhood of 
 Lettice's home. Many fled, and those who had 
 not already buried their valuables, or had not 
 placed them in some safe hiding, made haste to 
 do so. Lettice and Betty had long since seen to 
 it that the family treasures were safely hidden; but 
 since no one knew where the next attack might 
 be made, they declared that as far as their per- 
 
 145 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 sonal safety went, they might as well be in one 
 place as another. 
 
 It was on the morning of August 7, that Will- 
 iam came hurriedly in, saying : " The British are 
 making for our shores ! I must hurry off, Betty. 
 Don't look so terrified, my love. I trust we 
 shall not suffer from the attack, but the militia 
 are ordered out, and James and I must go. Here, 
 Lettice, take these papers and put them in safe 
 hiding somewhere ; they are valuable. I ought to 
 see to it myself, but I shall not have time. If 
 anything happens, get over to Uncle Tom's as 
 quickly as possible. I fancy Aunt Martha can 
 hold her own, and there is strength in numbers." 
 And kissing his weeping wife and trembling sister, 
 he mounted his horse and was off, accompanied by 
 James, who made his adieux with a last whisper 
 to Lettice, " If I fall, Lettice, give this little packet 
 to Rhoda." 
 
 Lettice nodded, too full of distress to speak, and 
 the two women, holding each other closely, watched 
 the young men as they galloped out of sight. 
 " Oh, Lettice, Lettice," Betty sobbed, " suppose we 
 never see them again ! " 
 
 "Don't!" cried Lettice, sharply. "Betty, don't 
 say such things. Let us busy ourselves about some- 
 
 146 
 
SUSPICIONS. 
 
 thing, or we shall not be fit to face trouble when it 
 comes. I must hide these papers at once." She 
 concealed them under her apron, and stole through 
 the orchard to the graveyard, where, dropping on 
 her knees, she hastily dug a hole close by the lean- 
 ing footstone of Theophilus Hopkins's grave, and 
 in the cavity she placed the box of papers. From 
 time to time she glanced apprehensively around to 
 be sure that no one observed her, and she was 
 startled in the very act of covering up the place 
 of hiding, by hearing some one say : " I knew I 
 should find you here. Are you honoring your 
 ancestor by planting fresh flowers upon his grave ? 
 It is rather late in the season, isn't it ? " 
 
 Lettice, looking greatly confused, stammered : " I 
 — yes — no, I was not. It is rather late for some 
 flowers, to be sure, but some can be planted at 
 almost any time, you know." As she recovered 
 herself, she spoke with more assurance. " How 
 long have you been watching me, Mr. Clinton ? " 
 she asked. 
 
 "Only a few moments. I saw you digging 
 away for dear life, but I didn't disturb you, for 
 I liked to watch your little white hands." He 
 tried to take them in his, but Lettice drew them 
 away. 
 
 147 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 "They are all covered with earth and stuff," she 
 said. "You came very early." 
 
 "Yes, I came from your aunt with a message. 
 We have heard that the British are moving in this 
 direction, and Mrs. Hopkins thinks you will all be 
 safer under her roof. I suppose your brothers are 
 off at first alarm." 
 
 " Yes, they have gone ; but I am not sure what 
 Betty will consent to do. The negroes, to be sure, 
 are scattering off toward the woods, and our being 
 here will scarcely keep them together. The older 
 and more faithful ones will stay anyhow, and we 
 could take Lutie, and Mammy, and Speery with us. 
 Jubal has been stirring them all up with his fear- 
 some tales, and I shouldn't be surprised if he 
 coaxed off a lot of the field hands. I never did 
 trust Jubal," she said meditatively. 
 
 "Then I will escort you over, if your sister 
 consents." 
 
 Lettice agreed, and they started for the house. 
 " Do you know if it is simply a foraging party of 
 British on the way here, or is it really a large 
 force ? " Lettice asked. 
 
 " I believe it is quite a large force ; at least I 
 was told so by some one who brought the news. 
 A company of scouts under Captain Massey made 
 
 148 
 
SUSPICIONS. 
 
 the discovery that the British were advancing, and 
 there has been a skirmish. Major Nicholson and 
 his troops are at Queenstown, which I believe is 
 expected to be the point of attack." 
 
 " Has it come to that ? Then we may look for 
 anything. I am sure Brother William would want 
 to have us go to Uncle Tom's." 
 
 They found Betty quite willing to follow Mr. 
 Clinton's advice ; therefore, taking the baby and 
 three of the servants, they hastened over to Sylvia's 
 Ramble, to find Mrs. Hopkins somewhat nervous, 
 but outwardly determined, while Rhoda was quietly 
 alert, and not the least discomposed, to all appear- 
 ances. 
 
 Lettice, eager and anxious, was at times so pre- 
 occupied that she scarcely heeded what Robert said 
 to her. Once she turned on him fiercely. " If we 
 are raided upon here, shall you fight for or against 
 us ? " she asked. " Let us know what to expect." 
 
 " Lettice ! " he exclaimed. " How can you ask such 
 a question ? I will defend you to the last drop of 
 blood, but I hope there will arise no such emer- 
 gency." 
 
 Lettice gave him a lovely smile. " I almost wish 
 there would," she said. 
 
 " Why such a wish ? " 
 
 149 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 " Because you would then have an opportunity of 
 proving yourself a true American." 
 
 He bit his lip and made no reply for a moment ; 
 then he said, " I think there is no one, whatever his 
 views, who would not be ready to defend those he 
 loves, should they be in danger, but I think we have 
 no cause for alarm ; non-combatants will be shown 
 every courtesy, I am sure." 
 
 " By whom ? That pirate, that thief, that ma- 
 rauder, Cockburn ? " 
 
 " Sh ! " exclaimed Mrs. Tom Hopkins, hearing the 
 words. "Even walls have ears. We must be dis- 
 creet, Lettice." 
 
 " Discreet ! " began Lettice, passionately, but the 
 distant sound of great guns came upon their ears, 
 and the words died upon her lips. 
 
 It was a day of dread and great gloom which no 
 effort could dispel. They sat waiting, they knew 
 not for what, till at last Rhoda cried : " Here comes 
 a messenger riding hard. Go out, Robert, and see 
 if he brings news." 
 
 Not only Robert, but all of them, hastened to 
 meet the newcomer, Betty and Lettice fairly out- 
 stripping the others. It was young Birket Dean. 
 He looked tired and travel-worn, but he cried trium- 
 phantly : " All safe, Mrs. Hopkins ! Our men had 
 
 *5° 
 
SUSPICIONS. 
 
 to beat a retreat, but not before they had made the 
 enemy taste of their shot. We didn't lose a man, 
 but there were several killed and wounded on the 
 other side, and more than one deserted. Every one 
 thinks that St. Michael's is threatened, and Talbot 
 County is up in arms. I must ride on and tell them 
 at home of what has happened. I promised William 
 I would stop by and tell you all how matters stood. 
 He says you'd better stay here for the present, for he 
 took it for granted I would find you all here to- 
 gether." And he galloped off, leaving them all with 
 a great weight removed. 
 
 The next news that came was that the little town 
 of St. Michael's was in danger of an attack. It was 
 the place where nearly all the famous " Baltimore 
 Clippers " were built, and because of this it attracted 
 the attention of Cockburn, who intended destroying 
 the shipyards and the vessels then in course of con- 
 struction. But he met so valiant a resistance that 
 he finally withdrew, and although the houses in the 
 little town showed the effects of the shot, which flew 
 like hail, not one of the militia was hurt. 
 
 The next day Lettice and Betty returned to their 
 own home. 
 
 " You'd better not be too hasty in getting back," 
 warned Aunt Martha. 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 "I believe Aunt Martha is disappointed in not 
 having had a visit from Admiral Cockburn," said 
 Lettice, laughing. 
 
 " Indeed, then, I am not ! " returned the lady with 
 some asperity ; " but I've an older head than yours, 
 miss, and I think I may consider that I have more 
 discretion." 
 
 " Maybe," Lettice nodded ; then said saucily, " If 
 you should receive a call, send us word, and we'll 
 come over and help you entertain your Britishers." 
 
 "And you'd do it well," said Mr. Clinton in a low 
 tone. 
 
 Lettice gave a toss of the head and sprang into 
 her saddle. For some reason she was not pleased 
 with this young gentleman this morning; he had 
 been far too cautious in showing her attentions, and 
 had been too evidently anxious that no one should 
 discern any difference in his manner toward the two 
 girls ; and besides, Lettice resented his saying that it 
 would be as well that they should not take Rhoda 
 into their confidence, and yet she had several times 
 come upon the two in close conference, and once 
 had overheard Rhoda say, " I will see that the mat- 
 ter is kept a secret, but we must be very cautious." 
 So Lettice, with a feeling that she could not quite 
 trust him, and that he might be playing a double 
 
 152 
 
SUSPICIONS. 
 
 part, was most cool toward him, and eagerly sec- 
 onded her sister Betty's proposition to go. 
 
 It was a few days later that William and James 
 returned. They came galloping in one evening full 
 of accounts of their skirmishes. 
 
 "It's a great life," said Jamie; "but I mean to 
 join Barney. We don't get enough service here on 
 shore, and on sea they are always popping at each 
 other." 
 
 "Then I needn't return you the packet you gave 
 into my keeping," Lettice said. 
 
 James smiled. " No, keep it safe, and if I want it 
 when the war is over, I will ask you for it, and if I 
 fall, bestow it as I directed you." 
 
 " Lettice," her brother William's voice broke in, 
 " where are those papers ? Are they safely hid- 
 den ? " 
 
 " Yes, I hid them with my own hands," she 
 replied. 
 
 " I shall want them soon." 
 
 " To-night ? " 
 
 " Hardly, I think. I will let you know if I re- 
 quire them ; but they must be sent off the first 
 opportunity, for there are government secrets among 
 them." 
 
 " Oh, really? I am glad they are out of my hands, 
 *53 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 then. Who is coming ? I hear the clatter of horses 
 on the walk." 
 
 William arose and went down the steps, and Let- 
 tice heard him say : " Ah, General, welcome, right 
 welcome. Good evening, Tyler. Glad to meet you, 
 Mr. Baldwin. Come in, gentlemen, and let me 
 present you to the ladies." And Lettice was soon 
 in the presence of the veteran, General Benson, Cap- 
 tain Dodson, her old friend, Tyler Baldwin, and, 
 whom but the young naval officer, Ellicott Baldwin, 
 of whom Tyler had spoken to her, and whom she 
 well remembered. 
 
 "A fortunate circumstance it was which led me 
 to my cousin's this week," said the young man, who 
 bowed low before Lettice. " I trust you remember 
 me, for I have never forgotten you." 
 
 Lettice blushed and dropped her eyes. " I was 
 very bold," she murmured; "but I was so excited 
 that I forgot I was speaking to a stranger." 
 
 " Not bold," the young man hastened to say. " It 
 was but the charming naturalness of a child ; the 
 spontaneity of trusting youth. You cannot think I 
 had feelings other than those of admiration for your 
 ingenuous words, and I have ever since desired an 
 opportunity of meeting you again. May I tell you 
 how I happen to be here ? Shall we sit here ?" He 
 
 iS4 
 
SUSPICIONS. 
 
 led her to a corner of the wide piazza, and seated 
 himself by her side. " The general and Captain 
 Dodson were coming this way to get some papers 
 which I am to deliver at Washington, to which place 
 I am to start by daybreak. They have been having 
 a lively time at St. Michael's, as you probably 
 know." 
 
 " Yes, we have heard of it ; but those papers — 
 they must be the ones my brother was just speaking 
 about, and I shall have to go and get them at once, 
 for it is I who know where they are hidden. I will 
 have to ask James to go with me." 
 
 " Are they within doors ? " 
 
 "No, they are down yonder." She made a move- 
 ment of the hand in the direction of the graveyard. 
 
 " May I not accompany you ? Your brother seems 
 occupied at this moment." 
 
 "I do not object, if you are willing to help with 
 the digging." 
 
 " Will I not be ? Try me. I shall like the fun, I 
 assure you." 
 
 " Then we will go at once. I will get a spade as 
 we go along. Are you afraid of haunts ? " 
 
 "Not I. And it is moonlight and not midnight, 
 so I fancy we are safe from evil charms." 
 
 " Perhaps you have a rabbit foot." 
 i5S 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 " No ; nor any charm, except such as is possessed 
 by my companion, whose youth and beauty should be 
 sufficient to protect me from all malign influences." 
 They sauntered down the moonlit garden path. 
 Sweet clove pinks and August lilies freighted the 
 air with their heavy perfume. Lettice remembered 
 that night, not so long ago, when she and Robert 
 had felt the spell of the moonlight, and when she 
 had almost — She drew a sigh which her compan- 
 ion noted. " Does anything trouble you ? " he asked 
 gently. 
 
 " No ; it was only that I suddenly remembered 
 something. See, here by this footstone is the place. 
 The soil is light, and the box is not very deeply 
 placed. I think we can soon reach it." She knelt 
 down on the grass and began to brush away some 
 of the loose leaves and sticks. 
 
 Mr. Baldwin struck his spade into the dry soil, 
 throwing out the earth deftly and easily. He had 
 been digging for some minutes when Lettice ex- 
 claimed : " Surely, that should be far enough. Haven't 
 you struck the box yet ? " 
 
 " No ; I seem to come upon nothing harder than 
 the earth." 
 
 She peered over into the hole, resting one hand 
 upon the footstone. Then she exclaimed in an agi- 
 
 156 
 
SUSPICIONS. 
 
 tated tone, " That is much deeper than I dug, and 
 nothing is there ! " 
 
 " Are you quite sure this is the exact spot ? " 
 
 " Yes, very sure — exactly on a line with the foot- 
 stone, and a little to the right. Oh, no, I could not 
 possibly be mistaken, for there is not room on the 
 other side, you see. There is some mystery here." 
 She took the spade and began to feel around with it. 
 "It is gone!" she exclaimed. "Some one has stolen 
 it away. I am as sure as of my existence that it has 
 been stolen away." 
 
 " I will dig a little further, and more to the right ; 
 you may have gone deeper than you thought." He 
 threw out a few more spadefuls of earth, but discov- 
 ered nothing. "There is no box here," he said at 
 last. " Who could have taken it ? " 
 
 Lettice was silent a moment ; then she said in 
 a tense way, " I think I know. The deceitful 
 wretch ! The cowardly spy ! I will denounce him 
 before the world." 
 
 At this very moment a shadow fell upon the white 
 footstone. Lettice turned quickly — Robert Clinton 
 stood before them. " There he is ! " she cried. 
 " That is he, the spy ! No one else saw me, and I 
 do not know how long he may have been watching 
 me." 
 
 »S7 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 " What do you mean ? " cried Robert. " Lettice, 
 what do you mean ? Of what do you accuse me ? 
 A spy ? I ? Is it possible — " 
 
 " It is possible that I have learned the value of 
 fair words alone," she returned scornfully. " I un- 
 derstand many things now. I understand your con- 
 fidences with those who, like you, would be willing 
 to play into the hands of our country's enemies. 
 Yes, I believe you are a spy." 
 
 The young man turned to Mr. Baldwin, who, lean- 
 ing upon his spade, regarded the two. " Sir," said 
 Robert, " will you tell me if this young lady is sud- 
 denly crazed ? Can you explain this to me ? " 
 
 " Oh, you are very innocent ! " Lettice broke in. 
 "Add deceit to deceit. Tell him, Mr. Baldwin, 
 since he is so innocent of the charge. Refresh his 
 memory." 
 
 " Miss Hopkins secreted some valuables in this 
 place," Mr. Baldwin said, turning to Robert. "We 
 came down here to unearth them, and we find them 
 gone." 
 
 " And you charge me with taking them ! Lettice, 
 you can do that ? Great Heaven ! what do I hear ? 
 Lettice, you are but joking. You do not really mean 
 it. This is but one of your tricks." 
 
 " I wish to Heaven it were so, sir. For my part, 
 158 
 
SUSPICIONS. 
 
 if you have taken the box to plague me, it is a sorry 
 joke ; but return the papers quickly, I beg of you, 
 and I will forgive you. Have you them ? This is 
 no time for play ; say quickly." 
 
 "I have not," he answered slowly. He was very 
 pale, and was trembling from head to foot. 
 
 "You may not have them, but did you take 
 them ? " Mr. Baldwin asked. 
 
 Robert whirled around upon him. " You dare ask 
 me that ! And who are you, who take the right 
 to question me ? I am not answerable to you, sir, 
 but you shall be answerable to me." And, taking 
 a step forward, he gave the other a slap in the face. 
 
 From Lettice came a cry of dismay, and Mr. Bald- 
 win, with eyes flashing, said in a low, even voice : " I 
 will meet you, sir, when and where you please, as 
 soon as this charge made by Miss Hopkins is dis- 
 proved. At present I do not forget that we are in 
 the presence of a lady." 
 
 " Lettice, Lettice, forgive me ! " cried Robert. 
 But she gave him not so much as a look or a word. 
 She extended her hand to Mr. Baldwin. " Take me 
 to my brother," she said. "I must tell him at once 
 of his loss." 
 
 Mr. Baldwin hesitated, and Lettice understood 
 that he would fain secure the man she had accused. 
 
 '59 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 " No, no," she whispered, " do not arrest him. I 
 may have been too hasty. We have no proof as yet. 
 I beg of you, Mr. Baldwin, take no further steps till 
 we consult my brother. He — he may be innocent, 
 and- — and — we have been friends." Therefore, 
 leaving Robert standing wretched and alone, they 
 moved toward the house. 
 
 ibo 
 
CHAPTER XI. 
 
 An Interrupted Duel. 
 
 PALE and agitated, Lettice stood before the 
 company now gathered indoors. "It is 
 gone ! " she whispered. " Gone ! " 
 
 " What do you mean ? " asked her brother. 
 "What is gone?" 
 
 " The box with the papers. I hid it by the foot- 
 stone where Theophilus Hopkins is buried, and just 
 now, when Mr. Baldwin and I went to get it, we 
 found nothing there. Some one has taken it." 
 
 " Have you any idea of who could have done it ? " 
 
 Lettice twisted her fingers nervously, and gave 
 a quick distressed look toward Ellicott Baldwin, but 
 she made no answer. 
 
 " Have you any idea of who could have taken the 
 box ? " General Benson asked. " Speak up, my 
 child. Remember that you are a loyal little girl, and 
 that it is for the good of your country that we dis- 
 cover these papers. Beyond that, your brother's 
 honor is involved, and you will place him in a most 
 
 i0i 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 embarrassing position if the papers fail to appear. 
 Did any one see you secrete these papers ? " 
 
 "Yes." Lettice spoke so low that she could 
 scarcely be heard. Mr. Baldwin watched her 
 silently, but with an expression of deep sympathy. 
 
 "Will you tell us whom you suspect?" said her 
 brother, gently. " My little sister is so tender- 
 hearted, gentlemen, that she is loath to divulge the 
 name of the culprit, if indeed she knows it. Sup- 
 pose we talk it over by ourselves, little sister, if these 
 gentlemen will excuse us." And putting his arm 
 around her, he led her from the room. 
 
 When they were alone she put her head down 
 on his shoulder and wept silently. " I don't want 
 to tell, brother," she said, when she had become 
 more composed. " I was very angry at first, but I 
 don't want to get any one into trouble, and of course 
 I have no proof ; I only suspect. But one person 
 saw me as I was covering up the box, and — Oh, 
 if I could only get the papers back, would I need 
 to tell?" 
 
 Her brother considered the question. "Perhaps 
 not. It would depend upon the person. If a dan- 
 gerous enemy were working us harm, you would 
 want him to be put where he could do us no injury, 
 wouldn't you ? " 
 
 162 
 
AN INTERRUPTED DUEL. 
 
 " If that could be managed ? If he should leave 
 the country ? " said Lettice, eagerly. 
 
 " I cannot promise what leniency would be shown ; 
 but if you can recover the papers and will tell whom 
 you suspect, I will do my best to see that nothing 
 shall be done without full proof of treachery." 
 
 " Then if I can get the papers, and I promise to 
 tell you why they were taken, will that do ? " 
 
 " So far as you are concerned, yes, I think it will. 
 Wait here and I will confer with the general." 
 
 But her brother had no sooner left the room than 
 Lettice flew out by the back way, ran to the stable, 
 flung the saddle on her horse, and was off like a shot. 
 She would take no risks. Down the road she gal- 
 loped, and dashed up before the porch where Rhoda. 
 was sitting alone. 
 
 " Lettice ! " cried Rhoda, coming hastily forward, 
 "what are you doing here? Is there no one with 
 you ? Have you brought bad news ? " 
 
 Lettice slipped down from her horse, twisted the 
 bridle through the ring of the hitching-post, and 
 ran up the steps. "Are you alone, I ask in turn?" 
 
 " Yes. What is it ? You are so agitated. Has 
 anything happened to — anybody ? " 
 
 Lettice did not heed the eagerness of the ques- 
 tion nor the sudden pause before the last word, 
 
 163 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 "I am alone, yes. And something has happened 
 No, no one is hurt, but some valuable papers have 
 been stolen. Do you know anything about it?" 
 
 "I? What should I know?" Rhoda drew her- 
 self up, and held her head high. 
 
 " I overheard you talking one day to Mr. Robert 
 Clinton, and you said things which made me sus- 
 pect that you might try to help the enemy, if you 
 had a chance. And — Oh, Rhoda, never mind if 
 I do seem to accuse you ! it is to save Mr. Clinton. 
 If you have any love for him or for me, tell me 
 truly, do you know anything about the papers ? " 
 
 " I know nothing of any papers in which you 
 could possibly be concerned," she replied coldly. 
 "Tell me your story more clearly." 
 
 Lettice tried to do so, ending with, "If you have 
 not been concerned in the matter, he must have 
 done it entirely of his own accord." 
 
 "Do you suppose that either of us would so 
 degrade ourselves as to stoop to theft ? " returned 
 Rhoda, frigidly. 
 
 " I don't know ; I can't tell. I am so distracted 
 that I hardly know what I do think. I know you 
 are not friendly to our cause, and that in war it is 
 not thought wrong to avail one's self of all sorts 
 of methods to carry out an intention. Oh, Rhoda! 
 
 164 
 
AN INTERRUPTED DUEL. 
 
 if I do not recover the papers, they will make me 
 tell whom I suspect, and he will be arrested and 
 perhaps shot for a spy." 
 
 "Sh! sh! Aunt Martha may hear." 
 
 "Where is she?" 
 
 "Gone to bed with a sick headache. It was 
 warm, and I did not care to go so early." 
 
 "What shall I do? What shall I do?" 
 
 "Do you care so much for Robert Clinton's 
 safety ? " 
 
 " I care ! Of course I do. I don't know whether 
 much or little. One would rather one's friends 
 should be safe. I denounced him to his face for 
 a spy, and if it is true that he is one, I despise 
 him, but I do not want him taken and hung. Oh, 
 Rhoda, will you warn him ? And, oh, those papers ! 
 What can I do ? I don't know which way to turn." 
 
 "Robert will tell me the truth," said Rhoda, 
 after a moment's thought ; " I am sure he will." 
 
 "And will you try to get the papers back again ? " 
 
 " Yes ; but I am quite convinced that he did not 
 take them." 
 
 "Who, then? No one else saw me." 
 
 " How do you know ? " 
 
 "I know that he did see me." 
 
 "But you cannot swear that another was not 
 
A HEROINE OE 1812. 
 
 peeping, so I think you should give him the benefit 
 of the doubt." 
 
 " I cannot help my suspicions, knowing his devo- 
 tion to his party." 
 
 "Yes, but he is not a traitor to his country, and 
 does not love her enemies any more than you do." 
 
 "And I have given my word that I would tell 
 the name of the one I suspect. Please, Rhoda, 
 get him away if you can, but do not tell him that 
 I begged it of you. Promise me that." 
 
 " I will do my best. It is a great pity that you 
 were not more cautious. Are you going back to- 
 night ? Must you ? " 
 
 "Yes, I must. I am not afraid." 
 
 " No one knew of your coming ? " 
 
 "No, I sneaked out, and shall probably be well 
 scolded for it. And what excuse can I make ? " 
 
 "You are all well?" 
 
 "Yes. You have not seen Jamie yet, I suppose." 
 
 "No." 
 
 "He has just come from down the country, and 
 to-night had to remain at home to help entertain 
 this array of soldiers I left there. You will see 
 him to-morrow, no doubt." 
 
 " You volunteer the information as if you thought 
 I had demanded it." 
 
 166 
 
AN INTERRUPTED DUEL. 
 
 " Well, don't you demand it ? There, Rhoda, I 
 will not tease you. You have been very sweet 
 and forbearing, and I thank you, and will thank 
 you still more if you can help to get this dreadful 
 matter righted." 
 
 "One thing you have forgotten." 
 
 "And what is that?" 
 
 "Your companion, Mr. Baldwin. You say you 
 denounced Robert before him. What is to prevent 
 him from telling the whole thing ? " 
 
 "True. I didn't think of that; yet I don't think 
 he will until I give him leave. But so much the 
 more need of a speedy warning. When Robert — 
 Mr. Clinton comes in, you will see to it that he is 
 on his guard. They may come after him at any 
 moment." 
 
 " I will wait till he comes in. He should be 
 here by now." 
 
 "And I must get off at once. I would not en- 
 counter him for the world. Kiss me, Rhoda. I 
 never loved you half so well. You are a dear good 
 girl. I wish I were half so wise and discreet." 
 
 Rhoda smiled, and gave her the asked-for kiss ; 
 then Lettice again mounted her horse and turned 
 down the level road. 
 
 She had not travelled very far before she heard 
 167 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 the hoofs of horses coming rapidly toward her. Sud- 
 denly there was a pause in the advancing sound, 
 and she drew in her horse. In the moonlight she 
 could see the forms of two horsemen ahead of her. 
 She watched them for a few moments as they car- 
 ried on an excited conversation. Presently each 
 led his horse to one side and tied him to the 
 fence ; then they stood apart in the middle of the 
 road. Again there seemed to be a heated discus- 
 sion. Lettice wondered what it was all about. She 
 longed, yet feared, to draw nearer ; but at last her 
 curiosity overcame her fear, and she too led her 
 horse to the shadow of a tree, tied him, and crept 
 along by the fence till she came within hearing 
 distance. At this point she gave a quick exclama- 
 tion which nearly betrayed her to the two young 
 men, in whom she recognized Robert Clinton and 
 Ellicott Baldwin. She cowered close to the fence, 
 her heart beating very fast. She dreaded to advance 
 or retreat. 
 
 "I am at your service at any time and at any 
 place," Mr. Baldwin was saying. " I will accept 
 any challenge sent in the regular way." 
 
 " Now ! I insist upon it now. If you refuse, I 
 shall deem you a coward and a braggart," cried 
 Robert. 
 
 168 
 
AN INTERRUPTED DUEL. 
 
 " Then," returned the other, hastily, " choose 
 your position." 
 
 At that moment Lettice arose to her feet. This 
 was a duel, she comprehended, and perhaps one 
 or the other would be killed. She ran forward 
 and held up her hand. "You should have 
 witnesses," she said. " Here is one." She 
 stood between them, looking from one to the 
 other. 
 
 The men were thunderstruck. "You, Miss Hop- 
 kins ! What are you doing here ? I rode out to 
 find you," Mr. Baldwin said, but Robert spoke 
 never a word. 
 
 " I beg of you to desist," Lettice went on. " I 
 chanced to be coming this way. I have been to 
 the house of a sick relative and was on my way 
 home. This is our own ground, and I forbid you 
 to make it a place of bloodshed." 
 
 "I bow to a lady's decree," Mr. Baldwin said, 
 returning his pistol to its place. "Why did you 
 give us the slip, Miss Hopkins ? And what is 
 your desire concerning yonder gentleman ? You 
 denounced him in my presence, and yet when 
 the moment came to declare his offence to your 
 brother, you ran away. As for me, my lips are 
 sealed till you give me permission to speak." 
 
 169 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 "I do not give you permission to do anything 
 but leave him and let his conscience be his ac- 
 cuser." 
 
 " But who is to be responsible for his appearance 
 if we find he is guilty of the act for which you 
 denounced him ? " 
 
 " I will be. We have been friends," she said 
 softly, as she half turned to where Robert stood 
 with arms folded and eyes cast down. For an 
 instant Lettice's heart melted within her, and she 
 took a step forward, but she retreated again to 
 Mr. Baldwin's side. 
 
 " Take me home," she said faintly, " and let 
 this affair be settled there. My horse is but a 
 few steps back." 
 
 "I will bring him to you," Mr. Baldwin said, 
 "and yes, I shall be glad to defer this. You 
 understand," he said, turning to Robert, "I am 
 at your service when you will. This address will 
 always find me." He handed out a card with an 
 elaborate bow. He stood evidently thinking deeply. 
 " If you are innocent, sir," he went on to say, 
 "you will not be afraid to answer a few questions 
 should you be required to do so. If you are 
 guilty, you owe your escape from immediate arrest 
 to the good offices of this young lady. Whatever 
 
 170 
 
AN INTERRUPTED DUEL. 
 
 may be my own opinion, I owe you no more of 
 an apology than you do me, and in the interest 
 of my country I am bound to say that you are 
 free only through extreme tolerance." And he 
 turned away. 
 
 Lettice and Robert stood facing each other. 
 " How could you ? How could you ? " Lettice 
 murmured. "This dark suspicion has blighted all 
 the memory of our happy hours." 
 
 "This dark suspicion, indeed," replied the young 
 man. 
 
 "And you will not clear yourself, will not tell 
 me ? " she said eagerly. " But give up the papers, 
 and I will screen you and will think of you as 
 gently as I can." 
 
 "I have said that I have no papers." 
 
 Lettice wrung her hands. " O dear ! O dear ! 
 if you would but be candid and tell me, I could 
 help you, I could indeed. For the sake of our 
 past friendship, will you not tell me ? " 
 
 He came to her side. " Lettice," he began ; 
 then dropping the hand he had taken, he turned 
 away. "'Twould be no use," he said. "Farewell, 
 the dream is over. Tell your friend that I shall 
 not run away either from arrest or from him." 
 And he sprang on his horse and disappeared into 
 
 171 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 the woods, leaving Lettice with her face buried 
 in her hands. 
 
 She brushed away her tears as Mr. Baldwin 
 approached, and stood ready to mount her horse 
 again. They were fairly on their way when he 
 spoke. "This is a hard ordeal for a young lady to 
 go through, Miss Hopkins, but I cannot leave the 
 subject just yet. You are very positive that my 
 late adversary, whose name, by the way, I do not 
 know, is the one who took the papers ? " 
 
 " No, I am not certain. I only think so because 
 he saw me secure them, and because he is violently 
 opposed to the war, and belongs to the Peace party. 
 I know he has been very energetic in working for 
 his side." 
 
 " It looks suspicious, certainly." 
 
 " Yet it would be a shame to arrest a man, 
 unless we were sure." 
 
 " Yes, I think so, too." 
 
 " I think he should be given the benefit of the 
 doubt." 
 
 "That is dangerous, sometimes." 
 
 " Yes ; but I would rather let a dozen guilty 
 ones go free than to cause an innocent person to 
 suffer misfortune." 
 
 "A very lovely way of thinking, but I fear few 
 172 
 
AN INTERRUPTED DUEL. 
 
 offenders would come to justice if all agreed with 
 you. However, in this case we shall have to trust 
 to chance. Your gentleman was very eager for 
 a fight, which it would perhaps have been as well 
 to allow him. I do not feel comfortable over that 
 part of it." 
 
 " Oh, but I think it would have been terrible ! 
 He has been a friend of ours ; has been received 
 at our house on the most intimate terms. Suppose 
 he had fallen, or had caused your death ; it would 
 have been dreadful ! I should never have ceased to 
 reproach myself for having been the cause of it." 
 
 " You are right. I should have remembered your 
 part in the matter. But this other affair of — 
 What did you say the gentleman's name is ? " 
 
 " I didn't say. He is Robert Clinton, a relative of 
 our former Vice-President of the same name. He 
 is from New York, and is a great friend of some 
 connections of ours." 
 
 "Well, we must settle this affair of his before we 
 go home. They are waiting for your return. You 
 can imagine your brother is in something of an 
 awkward position; the papers gone, and you gone. 
 It would simplify matters if we could have returned 
 with a prisoner. I fear Mr. Clinton will be beyond 
 our reach by to-morrow." 
 
 173 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 " He bade me say to you that he would not run 
 away from either you or the authorities, but if he 
 should, and if at last he is proved innocent, we will 
 both be glad." 
 
 "In that case, yes. You do not seem to be so 
 enraged against him as at first." 
 
 "No, I was truly angry. I always fly off like 
 that and regret it afterward. I have had time for 
 reflection, and I needed it. I spoke too impulsively. 
 Think what a dreadful dreadful state of affairs I have 
 stirred up by my quick tongue!" 
 
 "It was natural that you should speak in the 
 excitement of the moment. Where does this turning 
 take us ? " 
 
 " Around by the bay." 
 
 " Shall we take it ? " 
 
 "Yes, if you like. It is not quite so near a 
 way." 
 
 She had hardly spoken the words before three men 
 sprang out from a fence corner. One snatched 
 Lettice's bridle ; two more dragged Mr. Baldwin 
 down from his horse. " I'll take the girl, pretty 
 creature that she is," cried the first, "and you can 
 have the Yankee." 
 
 " Save me ! Oh, save me ! Let me go ! " shrieked 
 Lettice. But the captor only laughed, and catching 
 
 J 74 
 
AN INTERRUPTED DUEL. 
 
 her around the waist, he pulled her down beside him, 
 while a terrible tussle went on between the other two 
 men and their prisoner, who fought like a tiger, and 
 finally managed to secure his pistol. A shot rang 
 out on the air, and one man fell. The one by Lat- 
 tice's side sprang forward. " Poor old Jerry, are 
 you done for ? " he cried, as he leaned forward. 
 
 Like a flash Lettice sprang up. At her feet lay 
 the man's pistol which he had dropped. The girl 
 picked it up. Providence had come to her rescue. 
 She raised the pistol, but almost immediately her 
 hand dropped to her side. She noted that the man 
 had lifted the head of his former companion to a 
 more comfortable position. To shoot him would be 
 murder, she reflected. She could not, no, she could 
 not. Yet her own life and Mr. Baldwin's lay in the 
 balance. Now her adversary was about to rise. 
 The horror of what might come next rushed over 
 her, and she hesitated no longer, but darted forward, 
 and dealt the man a desperate blow on the head with 
 the butt of the pistol. He dropped heavily by the 
 side of his fallen comrade, and was very still. Had 
 she killed or only stunned him ? She shuddered and 
 turned aside. 
 
 Meanwhile Mr. Baldwin and his opponent fought 
 for their lives. Lettice's friend had discharged the 
 
 *75 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 last load from his pistol, and now it was a question 
 of which would prove the best man in a hand-to-hand 
 fight ? Lettice watched them breathlessly. The 
 strength of one or the other must at last give out. 
 Suppose it should be her one dependence, this des- 
 perate man who was giving his assailant no time for 
 anything but to attend to the matter in hand. 
 Breathlessly Lettice put into execution a plan. If 
 Mr. Baldwin could only hold out long enough, she 
 might save both herself and him. She quickly undid 
 the long silken scarf she wore, tied one end tightly 
 around the wrist of the man she had sent to the 
 ground, and then tied the other end to a little tree 
 under which they had been sitting. It was suffi- 
 ciently small for her to be able to make her tether 
 quite secure. 
 
 The man began to move slightly, and Lettice 
 realized that he was merely stunned by her blow. 
 Another moment and he might recover sufficiently 
 to add to the hopelessness of the situation. In the 
 distance there was a faint plash of oars ; it might be 
 that those who approached would reenforce these 
 assailants. Her wits were sharpened by despair. 
 She leaned over and extricated the pistol from the 
 belt of the wounded man, and rushed to a safe dis- 
 tance from her prisoner. If he had a knife it would 
 
 176 
 
AN INTERRUPTED DUEL. 
 
 take him but a moment to cut his bonds as soon as 
 he should be aware of them. She must act quickly, 
 for the regular plash of the oars came nearer and 
 more near. 
 
 Ellicott Baldwin, still struggling desperately, heard 
 a cry, " Look out ! " A shot whizzed through the 
 air, and his adversary loosened his hold, and in a 
 second was felled to the earth. Lettice's pistol had 
 done good service. She had wounded the man in the 
 ankle, for she had purposely fired low. " Here, 
 here," she cried, thrusting the second pistol into Mr. 
 Baldwin's hand, and he, with one dazed look, rushed 
 to where she stood. 
 
 177 
 
CHAPTER XII. 
 
 Escape. 
 
 LETTICE ran desperately fast to gain her 
 horse, but for a moment it seemed that all 
 were lost, for the sound of oars had ceased, and 
 instead, shouts were heard ; an approaching party 
 of men answered their comrades, who, worsted by 
 a girl's stratagem, would stand at nothing. It 
 took but a few minutes for Lettice's captive to 
 free himself, and his first movement was toward 
 the girl. He was in a fury. One sweep of his 
 sword, one shot from his pistol, and their chances 
 were gone. 
 
 Ellicott Baldwin, between his set teeth, hissed, 
 " I will kill her and myself, too, before she shall 
 fall into their vile hands." Suddenly, as if to 
 favor them, the moon disappeared behind a dense 
 cloud, and when it struggled forth again, the man 
 and the maid had vanished. Where ? It seemed 
 as if the earth had swallowed them up. The 
 horses stood there, but not a sign of their riders. 
 
 178 
 
ESCAPE. 
 
 On each side of the road lay level stretches over- 
 grown with weeds and bordered by straggling 
 blackberry bushes. Farther away, where a shallow 
 creek made up into the land, were trees growing 
 to the water's edge. 
 
 "Beat the bushes! Search everywhere!" cried 
 Lettice's late captive. " I'll have that girl if she's 
 above ground. The little jade, to play me such a 
 trick ! " 
 
 But not a sign of the fugitives could be found, 
 and after more than an hour's fruitless search, the 
 men returned to their boats and to their station 
 on Kent Island. 
 
 Meantime, Lettice and her companion had made 
 their escape through the girl's knowledge of the 
 country. She had whispered, " Over the fence ! 
 Quick ! " and herself had led the way by springing 
 into the bramble bushes on one side the road. 
 The thorns played havoc with her light gown, but 
 she tore herself free from them, ran along a few 
 steps, and leaped into a hollow filled with rubbish. 
 Here an old house had stood ; now it was burnt 
 to the ground, and among and around its black- 
 ened foundations grew tall weeds which com- 
 pletely hid it from view. Lettice led the way, 
 and her companion followed blindly. At the rear 
 
 179 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 the ground sloped gradually down to the creek, so 
 that by stooping low, as they made a pathway 
 through mullein, wild carrot, and ragweed, they 
 could not be seen by those nearer the road. For- 
 tunately, their followers did not strike upon the 
 tumble-down house, or it would not have been an 
 easy matter to reach the creek without being 
 seen. 
 
 Neither spoke till the silver gleam of the little 
 creek showed in the moonlight, now struggling 
 through the clouds. 
 
 "I am almost spent!" gasped Lett ice ; "but if 
 they have left the boat this side, we are safe. 
 Over yonder in the woods lives an old negro 
 woman. She is considered a real hoodoo by the 
 darkeys, but she is devoted to all our family, for she 
 belonged to my grandfather, who set her free, and 
 gave her this bit of land in those woods of his." 
 She gave the information in detached sentences, 
 as she limped along the shores of the creek. 
 
 "You can scarcely walk," said Mr. Baldwin. 
 " You have lamed yourself." 
 
 " Have I ? I was scarcely conscious of it. I 
 have stepped on many sharp stones, and these 
 thin slippers are not much protection. No, there 
 is no boat," she said, after some searching. " What 
 
 180 
 
ESCAPE. 
 
 shall we do ? We have made a short cut, but 
 those wretches may yet find us, if we keep this 
 side of the creek. Oh, I am afraid they will ; I 
 am afraid ! " She caught Mr. Baldwin's arm with 
 a sudden fear. 
 
 " God forbid that they should find us ! " 
 
 "You are hurt too. You are wounded, I know, 
 but do you think you could swim to that little 
 island in mid-stream ? I would rather drown in 
 making the attempt than have them get me." 
 
 " And I would rather you did. I think I can 
 make it, and I can help you." 
 
 "Oh, I can swim, if I have the strength. I 
 but need that. Hark!" 
 
 There was a sound of voices and of crackling 
 branches among the trees behind them, and, with 
 one accord, they plunged into the stream, and 
 with slow, but sure progress, swimming, floating, 
 or making feeble strokes, managed to reach the 
 opposite shore, and when they drew themselves 
 up on the sands, their pursuers were parted from 
 them by a considerable stream of water. 
 
 Lettice dropped almost fainting on the ground, 
 and her companion was hardly less exhausted. It 
 would have been a very trifling feat for either one 
 of them, ordinarily, but the previous strain had 
 
 181 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 nearly robbed them of their strength, and they sat 
 there for some moments, scarce able and scarce 
 daring to move. 
 
 " We are very wet," said Mr. Baldwin at last. 
 
 Lettice gave a feebly hysterical laugh. " I am 
 very conscious of it. It is a warm night, but I 
 confess to feeling cooler than is agreeable. Do 
 you think they will attempt to cross ? " 
 
 " No ; and I am sure they did not discover us. 
 They did not dream of looking in this direction." 
 
 "That good, kind moon," said Lettice, raising 
 her face. " She was so good to screen us with 
 her clouds just at the right moment." 
 
 " There are times when clouds can be of more 
 use than sunshine, it seems." 
 
 " In this case, surely. Now I am thinking that 
 if it should come on to rain, we would be in a 
 sorry plight. We cannot be much wetter than we 
 are, but there would be no chance of getting dry 
 if it should rain. When we are rested, I think we 
 can find the boat we want to take us over to the 
 mainland. The water is quite shallow beyond, and 
 persons often ford the stream to this island, leave 
 their horses here and boat over to the shore we 
 have left. Since we found no boat there, I con- 
 clude it is here." 
 
 182 
 
ESCAPE. 
 
 " That is good news. We are not cast on a 
 desert island then." 
 
 "No, as long as we can find the means to leave 
 it. I think the boat would be over in that direc- 
 tion, among the bushes. We shall have to row 
 around the island to the other side. Do you sup- 
 pose we can do so without fear of being seen ? " 
 
 " I think our pursuers have given up the hope of 
 finding us, for they seemed to be going back the 
 way they came. I think we are safe, but it will 
 not do to take any needless risk." 
 
 " It was a party of Cockburn's men from Kent 
 Island, I suppose. They are raiding around in every 
 direction. At St. Michael's they have not dared to 
 use any lights, except such as they must have, for 
 months, and it is the same everywhere about. We 
 live in constant dread of them." She shuddered 
 and hid her face in her hands, but in a moment 
 she looked up. "Mr. Baldwin," she said, "I have 
 brought you into great danger which I might have 
 spared you if I had consented to do as my brother 
 wished. I must seem disloyal, as well as obstinate 
 and over impulsive." 
 
 " None of those things. You have been brave, 
 and true to your compassionate nature. As for me, 
 save that you were in great danger, the experience 
 
 183 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 is one that I might meet at any time. I am not 
 seriously hurt ; a cut or two ; no bones broken. I 
 have come off well. Pray do not distress yourself 
 on my account. My sole concern is for you." 
 
 "Shall we try to get across now? It must be 
 very late." 
 
 " I think it is, and growing cloudier all the time. 
 Did you say the boat was this way ? Sit still. 
 Please do not make any more effort than you need. 
 Those little feet have been too sorely tried already." 
 
 The boat was found in its place, and they embarked 
 upon the little creek, by degrees making their way 
 around the island, and then across to the opposite 
 shore. 
 
 "I trust it is not far, for your sake," said Mr. 
 Baldwin, seeing how utterly exhausted the girl was. 
 
 " No, it is but a little way." Yet every step was 
 torture to the already bruised feet, and tears were 
 running down the girl's cheeks when at last they 
 stopped at the door of old Hagar's little hut. 
 
 Mr. Baldwin rapped sharply. "Who dar?" came 
 a startled response. 
 
 " It is I, Aunt Hagar ; Lettice, Mars Jeems's 
 Lettice." 
 
 " Law, chile ! Fo' de Lawd ! " came the reply, 
 and in an instant there was a withdrawal of bolts 
 
 184 
 
What yuh doiri' hyar dis time c? night ? " 
 
ESCAPE. 
 
 and bars, and the old woman's head was thrust 
 out. 
 
 "What yuh doin' hyar dis time o' night, honey 
 chile ? " she asked, peering out into the darkness. 
 " Huccome yuh lookin' up ole Hagar ? I specs yuh 
 in lub," she chuckled ; but when Lettice and her 
 companion stepped into a cabin and Aunt Hagar 
 had struck a light, she looked at the two in aston- 
 ishment. " Law, chile," she exclaimed, " yuh look 
 lak ole rag-bag. What got yuh ? Mos' bar' footy, 
 an' all yo' clo'es tattered an' to'n ; an' who dis ? " 
 She peered up into Mr. Baldwin's face. " I knows 
 him. He one o' de Bald'in tribe. Dat a Bald'in 
 nose. I know dat ef I see it in Jericho. What yuh 
 doin' wif mah young miss out in de worl' dis time 
 o' night ? " she asked suspiciously. 
 
 " We were at Uncle Tom's, and were attacked by 
 a party of Britishers on our way home," Lettice 
 told her. 
 
 " Some o' dat mizzible gang from Kent Island, 
 I reckons." 
 
 "Yes, we suppose so. Well, we had a desperate 
 time getting away from them. Mr. Baldwin fought 
 — oh, how he fought ! " 
 
 " And you, Miss Hopkins, how well you did your 
 part." 
 
 185 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 " It was life or death, and we at last did escape, 
 but we have lost our horses, and are too footsore 
 and bruised and scared to go farther." 
 
 " Ole Hagar fix yuh up. I has 'intment, yuh 
 knows I has ; an' I has yarbs ; but, fo' de Lawd, I'll 
 cunjur dera Britishers, ef dey is a way to do it, dat 
 I will. Dere now, honey, let me wrop up dem po' 
 litty footies. Hm ! Hm ! dey is stone bruise, an' 
 dey is scratch, an' dey is strain an' sprain, an' what 
 ain' dey ? But dis cyo' 'em. Now lemme see what 
 young marster a-needin'. Hm ! Hm ! he slash an' 
 slit ; swo'd cut on he shoulder. Huccome he fight 
 an' swim an' row, I dunno, wif all dese yer slashes, 
 an' t'ars, an' all dat. Yuh bofe has sholy been froo 
 de mill. I say yuh has." And talking all the time, 
 the old woman managed to make her visitors really 
 comfortable, as she ministered to them with deft, 
 experienced fingers. 
 
 "Now, Aunt Hagar," said Mr. Baldwin, when she 
 had put on her last bandage, " I will leave Miss 
 Lettice in your care, and I will go to her home 
 and report that she is safe. They will be very 
 anxious." 
 
 "Oh, but you are not fit to go any farther," 
 Lettice protested. 
 
 " Oh, yes, I am. You do not know what a charm 
 186 
 
ESCAPE. 
 
 Aunt Hagar has put into these ointments. Your 
 family will be in great distress of mind, and I think 
 it would be best that I should go and reassure 
 them." 
 
 " Yes, honey, he better go," said Aunt Hagar, 
 from the corner where she was busying herself 
 with some mysterious mixture. " Mars Bald'in, 
 drink dis, honey, hit give yuh stren'th, an' mek 
 yuh git over de groun' lak a rabbit. Jess follow 
 de paf to de spring, den strike off to de lef, an' 
 whenst yuh come to de hayricks by de right side 
 de road, yuh is jes back o' Mars William's barn. 
 Hit a roun'erbout way, but hit's better dan crossin' 
 de water. I'll look out fo' Miss Letty. Yuh tell 
 'em Aunt Hagar got her, an' dey satify she all 
 right. An' tell 'em," she went to the door and 
 spoke in a whisper, "tell 'em not to raise a cry 
 all roun' de neighborhood dat she out dis-a-way. 
 Dey is folks dat love to talk, an' I don' want de 
 chile's name to be made free wif, an' have 'em say 
 she traipsin roun' de country wif young men all 
 hours of de night. Yuh hyar me ? " 
 
 "I agree with you, certainly, Aunt Hagar, and I 
 shall do my part in keeping the matter quiet. A 
 young lady's name is too delicate a thing to be 
 bandied about by those who are merely curious. 
 
 187 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 I will see you again soon, Aunt Hagar. I haven't 
 thanked you half as I should for your kindness." 
 
 Aunt Hagar beamed, and as she reentered the 
 room and stood over Lettice, where she sat in a 
 low splint-bottomed chair, she said : " He blue blood. 
 I knows dat. Some folkses has money but dey 
 hasn't nothin' e's. He got de name an' de manners 
 of a gent'man." She stroked Lettice's hair with 
 her withered old hand. "Now, honey," she went 
 on, " I gwine give yuh a drink o' sumpin' to put 
 yuh to sleep, an' yuh ain' gwine wake up no mo' 
 twel de sun three hours high ; an' I gwine put a 
 name in dis cup so yuh dreams gwine be sweet an' 
 pleasant. Yuh is had a bad 'sperience, an' yuh 
 might have turr'ble dreams ef yuh didn't have no 
 chawm ter stop 'em. Drink dis, honey, hit tas' es 
 sweet an' good, an' won' hu't a kitten. I mek yo' 
 baid up nice an' clean, an' yuh sleep lak a baby." 
 
 " But where will you sleep ? " Lettice asked. 
 
 "I sleep whar I sleep. Yuh reckon I uses dat 
 baid ? I sleeps whar I sleeps ; in dis cheer, on de 
 flo', anywhar I lak. Yuh don' reckon I sleeps in 
 dat baid dese hot nights ? No, ma'am, I sleeps 
 whar I sleeps." And despite Lettice's protests she 
 would have her take possession of the high four- 
 posted bed with its bright patchwork quilt, and its 
 
 188 
 
ESCAPE. 
 
 fresh white sheets ; and in a few minutes the 
 exhausted girl was fast asleep. 
 
 She awakened the next morning to hear the 
 patter of rain on the roof, and to see Aunt 
 Hagar crouching over a fire, giving her attention 
 to a fine pone browning in the bake kettle. There 
 was an odor of sizzling bacon, of coffee, and of some 
 herby mess which Lettice could not identify. She 
 sat up in bed, and called, " Aunt Hagar." 
 
 The old woman arose with alacrity. "I 'lows 
 hit mos' time fo' yuh to wek up. I has yo' brek- 
 fus mos' done, an' yo' clo'es is dry an' ready fo' 
 yuh. Yo' stockings is too raggety fo' yuh to w'ar, 
 an' yo' purty frock ain' nothin' but strips an' 
 strings. Yuh has to w'ar hit though ; hit clean. 
 An' 'tain' no matter 'bout de stockin's, yuh ain' 
 gwine put yo' footies to de groun' f o' a week ; dat 
 I say." 
 
 " But they feel much better ; so much. And, 
 oh, Aunt Hagar, you must have been up very 
 early to have washed and ironed all my things." 
 
 " I gits up when I ready. I nuvver has no 
 rug'lar time fo' gittin' up an' gwine to baid," she 
 explained; and then she helped Lettice on with 
 her clothes, after bringing her warm water in a tin 
 basin, and attending to her wants. Then she made 
 
 189 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 ready the breakfast on a deal table to which 
 Lettice was assisted, after having been made to 
 drink a copious draught of herb tea. 
 
 " Mek yuh eat hearty, chile. Mek yuh feel nice, 
 an' keep off de chills, an' mek yuh rosy an' purty. 
 Yuh doan' want dem pale cheeks when Mars 
 Bald'in' aroun'," coaxingly said Aunt Hagar. 
 
 Lettice laughed, and, with a wry face, swallowed 
 the draught, and, to her surprise, she found her- 
 self ready for a hearty breakfast, which seemed to 
 taste uncommonly good, for Aunt Hagar was a 
 famous cook and nurse, as she was a noted "conjur 
 woman." 
 
 The girl had hardly finished her meal when 
 "rap-rap" came at the door, and the latch was 
 lifted to disclose her brother and her sister Betty, 
 with the carriage, pillows, wraps, and all such para- 
 phernalia. Sister Betty fell on Lettice's neck, 
 kissing and compassionating her. " Oh, you dear 
 child, I was afraid you would be in a raging fever 
 this morning. Oh, you poor little thing, what a 
 dreadful, dreadful time you have had ! Naughty 
 girl, to run away from your home. Come, Will- 
 iam, pick her up and carry her out to the car- 
 riage. It is not raining so hard, but her poor 
 little tootsie-wootsies are all bound up, and she 
 
 190 
 
ESCAPE. 
 
 must be in a sorry plight, in spite of her brave 
 looks." 
 
 "Aunt Hager has been so good to me," Lettice 
 told them. " She has made a new girl of me. I 
 am in rags, but they are clean ones, thanks to 
 Aunt Hagar. I feel wonderfully peart this morn- 
 ing, after my woful adventures. And how is Mr. 
 Baldwin ? I judge he reached you safely." 
 
 "Yes, but in rather a sorry plight, for it was 
 raining hard when he arrived, and the extra effort 
 was none too good for him ; but we have kept him 
 in bed, and we will cosset him, and he will soon 
 be well, I hope. He has come off worse than you, 
 for he has a high fever, and I was loath to leave 
 him ; but Mammy is a good nurse, and I thought 
 she could do better for him than I." 
 
 " He is a brave fellow," William put in. " He 
 made little of his part in your affair, and much of 
 yours, but his condition shows that he fought man- 
 fully. Ah, little sister, if you had but stayed at home." 
 
 "Now, William, you shall not scold," Betty in- 
 terrupted. "The child has suffered enough, and 
 she did what she thought was right, no doubt." 
 
 " I did hope I could get the papers," said Lettice, 
 wistfully, " and I thought the matter would be most 
 easily settled so, and I was afraid that it would be 
 
 191 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 too late if I waited till morning, so I went, and it 
 was no use after all." 
 
 "Yet, perhaps it was," her brother said gravely, 
 "for the papers have come to light." 
 
 Lettice opened her eyes wide. "And how were 
 they found?" 
 
 "There is the mystery. Lutie brought them to 
 me with a marvellous tale of their being handed 
 to her to be placed in my hands, and she either 
 pretended or she did not know who brought them. 
 I questioned her, but she stuttered and stammered, 
 and told about some one in a great cloak, and 
 whose face she did not see, and she declared she 
 was so mortal scared that she couldn't have told 
 who it was, anyhow, and a lot of stuff from which 
 we could make neither head nor tail. But the 
 papers are safe, although no one knows but that 
 they have been copied. I would like to get at the 
 bottom of the matter." 
 
 " Perhaps I can," replied Lettice, thoughtfully. 
 " At all events, I am glad they have been returned. 
 And now we will go home." So she was bundled 
 into the carriage, and reached home with a thank- 
 ful heart. But Aunt Hagar's predictions came 
 true, for it was a week before she could put her 
 feet to the ground. 
 
CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 Confidences. 
 
 THE r61e of patient which was enforced upon 
 both Lettice and Mr. Baldwin was not alto- 
 gether disagreeable to the pair. A couple of days 
 was all the time that Mr. Baldwin would consent to 
 remain in bed, and by that Lettice, too, was down- 
 stairs, looking, it is true, very pale and with blue 
 shadows under her eyes, but quite herself otherwise. 
 The knowledge of her night's doings was kept a pro- 
 found secret from all but her immediate family, 
 although Aunt Martha and Rhoda were considered 
 sufficiently discreet to be intrusted with an account 
 of her adventures. 
 
 It was James who told Rhoda about it, when he 
 went over to make his farewells before going to join 
 Barney's flotilla, for he declared that he was in no 
 mood for land service. " We can't have every Tom, 
 Dick, and Harry discussing Letty's doings," he said. 
 "There are those just waiting for a chance to call 
 her light and unmaidenly, travelling around alone in 
 
 193 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 these times ; although we, who know her, can impute 
 it to nothing but pity and bravery. Besides, Cock- 
 burn and his men have such a name, that but to men- 
 tion the fact of her having fallen into their hands, 
 would give rise to exaggerated reports." 
 
 Rhoda nodded. "Yes, we who know her and 
 love her would best say nothing about it. Lettice is 
 a brave girl and a tender-hearted one, even if she 
 is a bit too impulsive." 
 
 Jamie's eyes beamed at this praise of his dearly 
 loved sister from one who was always chary of her 
 compliments ; and when Rhoda expressed her deter- 
 mination to go at once to see Lettice, he gladly 
 offered to be her escort. " I wish you were well out 
 of here and safe in Boston," he said. "With that 
 terrible beast of a Cockburn infesting our shores, 
 and every man feeling it his duty to be off with the 
 militia, our homes are illy protected. Your father 
 should not allow you to remain here." 
 
 Rhoda frowned, and half shut her eyes in a little 
 haughty way that she had. " My father does what 
 he thinks best. I do not dispute his judgment. He 
 does not know, or is not willing to believe, the state 
 of affairs down here." 
 
 Jamie made no response although he thought, 
 "Nothing to his credit that it is so." 
 
 194 
 
CONFIDENCES. 
 
 Lettice greeted Rhoda warmly. " It is good of 
 you to come over to see this battered-up piece of 
 humanity," she said. " Am I not a decrepit ? " 
 She thrust out one bandaged foot as she stood 
 holding to a chair. 
 
 " Are you then so lame ? " Rhoda asked with 
 concern. 
 
 "Yes, I am rather used up by sprains and bruises, 
 but it is nothing serious, after all, and only demands 
 that I keep quiet." 
 
 " Tell me about it," Rhoda said abruptly, as she 
 motioned Lettice to her place on the couch. And 
 Lettice gave her a^detailed account of her adventures, 
 ending with, "And it was my very prettiest scarf, 
 the silk one with many colored stripes that Uncle 
 Tom brought me from Paris." 
 
 " How can you think of such slight things when it 
 was all so serious ? " Rhoda asked, in a puzzled tone. 
 
 Lettice laughed. "Because I am so shallow, I 
 suppose. I remember being thankful that I had 
 that particular piece of finery, because it was so 
 strong, and not like some of my others made of a 
 lighter and more gauzy material. You see how I 
 could let my thoughts run on dress, even in that 
 desperate hour. I tell you I am only a butterfly." 
 
 " But you are not. You weep like a baby over 
 *9S 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 the smallest thing, when it is weak and silly to do 
 so, and you prink and coquet and parade your 
 dress, but at heart you are brave and loyal, and 
 have the greatest amount of endurance. I cannot 
 make you out." 
 
 "No more can I you. I am a piece of vanity, 
 and when there is anything to be gained by show- 
 ing a brave front I can do it well enough ; at other 
 times I simply let myself go, and if I feel like cry- 
 ing I cry, when there is anybody around to pet me 
 and make much of me, even if it is only Mammy." 
 Then she suddenly became grave. " Did you know 
 that the papers were found? Or rather, they have 
 been returned." 
 
 Rhoda started. "You don't mean it!" 
 
 "I do." 
 
 "Who returned them?" 
 
 "My maid, Lutie." 
 
 "Was she the thief?" 
 
 " No, I think, — I am quite positive, she was not. 
 She says they were given to her to deliver to my 
 brother." 
 
 "By whom?" 
 
 " She does not tell. By the way, I promised my 
 brother William that I would try to fathom the 
 matter. Rhoda, where is Mr. Clinton ? " 
 
 196 
 
CONFIDENCES. 
 
 Rhoda did not answer for a moment; then she 
 said : " You still suspect him ? Do you mean me 
 to infer that you believe it was he who gave Lutie 
 the papers ? " 
 
 "I don't know what to think. I would rather 
 fasten my suspicions on some one else, for more 
 reasons than one." 
 
 "What reasons?" 
 
 "I would rather be sure the papers had not been 
 copied." 
 
 " You believe he would do such a thing as that ? 
 I do not. I have more faith in him than you, Let- 
 tice." 
 
 "Yet you do not love him." 
 
 "Have I said I do not?" 
 
 "No, but I know it. I know one cannot love 
 two men at the same time." 
 
 "Lettice, you presume." 
 
 " Do I ? I don't mean to ; but — Ah well, 
 Rhoda, we are but girls, and we are on the lookout 
 for signs that escape others whose thoughts are not 
 on romances." 
 
 " And you think you have read signs in me ? 
 Am I such a telltale, then ? " 
 
 "Far from it. You are unusually wary. But 
 Rhoda, do you know that Jamie leaves us to-day ? ' 
 
 197 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 The color mounted slowly to Rhoda's face, tinge- 
 ing even her ears with red. 
 
 Lettice leaned over and said mockingly, as she 
 possessed herself of Rhoda's hand, " A sign, Rhoda ! 
 A sign ! What does that blush mean ? " 
 
 Rhoda bit her lip, but did not raise her eyes. 
 
 "Our bonny Jamie," sighed Lettice. "Ah me, I 
 hope God will spare him. I hope, O I hope — 
 Oh, Rhoda, what if he should be going, never to 
 return." 
 
 " Don't ! " cried Rhoda, in a sharp, quick voice. 
 And then she snatched her hand from Lettice and, 
 covering her face, sobbed in a convulsive, tearless 
 way. 
 
 "Rhoda, dear Rhoda," cried Lettice. "What a 
 wicked girl I am ! I did not mean to be cruel to 
 you. I should have had more consideration for 
 your feelings and have kept my fears to my- 
 self." She essayed to rise, but Rhoda motioned 
 her back. "Come here, then, and sit by me that 
 I may know that you forgive me," she begged, 
 and Rhoda came. Lettice caressed and soothed 
 her so that in a few minutes she had regained her 
 composure. 
 
 "You asked about Robert," she said. "He has 
 gone to Washington and vows he will never return. 
 
 198 
 
CONFIDENCES. 
 
 He left his address, should any one wish to know 
 of his whereabouts." 
 
 "I am glad. I think that is best." 
 
 Rhoda in her turn began to catechize. "Do you 
 love him, Lettice?" 
 
 " No, I can say truthfully that I do not. I was 
 beginning to, I think ; but now, I am so racked 
 by doubt and mistrust that I have no room for 
 any other feeling. I do not want to love him. 
 This cloud would ever be rising between us. 
 I would grieve to have harm come to him, and 
 yet — " 
 
 "You would denounce him to his enemies?" 
 
 "If it would serve my country, yes. I could not 
 tell a lie for him." 
 
 "Then you do not love him." 
 
 "Could you tell an untruth for one you loved?" 
 
 Rhoda reflected. "I would not tell an untruth, 
 but I would believe in him though no one else 
 did, and I would not give up my belief while there 
 was a shadow of a chance that he was innocent. 
 And, in any event, I would be very sure before I 
 declared a person guilty who might be proved 
 innocent." 
 
 "That is why I went to you the other night," 
 replied Lettice. "And I did not denounce him 
 
 199 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 before any one but Mr. Baldwin, and that was in 
 the heat of my surprise and anger." 
 
 " I know that. But we have been over this sub- 
 ject before. He is gone and will not return. Let 
 us talk of something else. Your Mr. Baldwin, 
 where is he ? " 
 
 "My Mr. Baldwin, as you are pleased to call him, 
 is here in the room across the hall. Would you 
 like to call on him ? " 
 
 "Not I." 
 
 " He is a brave young gentleman, and good to 
 look at." 
 
 "Ah, that is why you are not sure of your feel- 
 ing for Robert." 
 
 "No, it is not," returned Lettice, quickly. "And 
 that brings us back to the question we were dis- 
 cussing a few minutes ago. Could a girl love two 
 men at once ? " 
 
 Rhoda did not answer. She arose and said : " I 
 am staying too long. I must go back to Aunt 
 Martha. I promised her I would be back soon. 
 Your brother William has returned to his com- 
 pany ? " 
 
 " Yes ; he was at home but one day and could 
 remain no longer. With the British such near 
 neighbors, the militia must not be caught napping. 
 
 200 
 
CONFIDENCES. 
 
 The plantations are suffering for lack of attention, 
 but the men must fight though the crops fail in 
 consequence. Will you send Lutie to me, if you 
 see her on your way down ? And do come soon 
 again." 
 
 Rhoda promised and took her leave. In a few 
 minutes Lutie appeared. She had not shown her 
 usual devotion to her mistress during the last day 
 or two, and seemed anxious to efface herself, a pro- 
 ceeding strictly the opposite to her usual one. 
 
 " You want me, Miss Letty ? " she said as she 
 came in. 
 
 "Yes, I do. I don't want to be left up here all 
 alone. It seems to me, Lutie, you have a precious 
 lot of work downstairs, for you try to slip out 
 every chance you get." 
 
 " Miss Rhoda, she hyar," Lutie began protest- 
 ingly. 
 
 "I know she was here, but she is not now. I 
 never thought you would neglect your own Miss 
 Letty, Lutie ; especially when she is half sick, and 
 cannot get around without some one's help. 
 Haven't I always been good to you ? " 
 
 " Yass, miss, yuh has indeed." 
 
 "Then look here; tell me the truth. Now don't 
 look so scared ; I am not going to have you whipped. 
 
 201 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 You know you never had a whipping in your life, 
 except from your own mammy. I want you to 
 tell me who gave you those papers to give to your 
 Marster William." 
 
 Lutie began to sniffle. "'Deed, Miss Letty, I 
 didn't see him. He have a cloak over him, an' he 
 hide his face, an' he a gre't big man." 
 
 "With fiery eyes like Napoleon Bonaparte that 
 you're so afraid of ? Now look here, is it any one 
 I know ? " 
 
 " Yass, miss." Lutie spoke in a tremulous voice. 
 
 "Was it — now speak the truth — was it — " 
 Lettice looked cautiously around and lowered her 
 voice — " Mr. Clinton ? " 
 
 Lutie writhed, and twisted, and looked every way 
 but at her mistress. 
 
 " Remember, you'll be sorry if you don't tell." 
 
 " Miss Letty, what yuh gwine do ef I don't 
 tell ? " at last Lutie inquired in desperation. 
 
 " What am I going to do ? Don't you know 
 that old Aunt Hagar comes here every day to see 
 me ? You know she is a cunjure woman, she'll do 
 anything I ask her. You'd better look out." 
 
 "'Deed an' 'deed, Miss Letty," wailed Lutie, 
 dropping on her knees, and rocking back and forth, 
 " I so skeered." 
 
 202 
 
CONFIDENCES. 
 
 "Of the Poly Bonypart man or the cunjure 
 woman ? Which ? " 
 
 " Bofe of 'em. An' I skeered o' dat Cockbu'n. 
 Jubal say he mos' wuss'n Poly Bonypart." 
 
 "Jubal does?" 
 
 "Yass'm. Oh, Miss Letty, don' mek me tell." 
 
 " Humph ! " Lettice rested her chin in her 
 hand and thoughtfully regarded the girl sobbing 
 at her feet. " Lutie," she said after a pause, 
 "what did Jubal tell you about Cockburn and his 
 men ? " 
 
 " He say," Lutie replied, weeping copiously, 
 " he say ef I tells, ole Cockbu'n git me an' mek 
 me dance er breakdown on hot coals ; an' he far 
 out mah white teef an' give 'em to he men to 
 shoot out o' dey guns lak bullets ; and he snatch 
 uvver scrap o' wool off mah haid, fo' to mek gun 
 wads outen ; an' he brek uvver bone in mah body, 
 an' de Britishers rattle 'em when dey play dey 
 chunes ter march by." Jubal could display a 
 delightfully vivid imagination when it served his 
 purpose. 
 
 "That certainly would be something terrible," 
 Lettice commented gravely. "I don't wonder you 
 are scared ; but you know it would be nearly as 
 bad if you wasted away, — hungry, and couldn't 
 
 203 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 eat ; thirsty, and couldn't drink ; and if your teeth 
 were to drop out one by one, and if your eyes 
 were to roll up into your head and never come 
 down again ; and if those you love wouldn't love 
 you, and if some one gave Jubal a charm so he'd 
 hate you. You know what a cunjure woman can 
 do." 
 
 Lutie burst into loud wails. " Oh, Miss Letty ! 
 Spare me, Lawd ! Spare me ! I a po' mizzible sinner. 
 What shall I do? What shall I do? Oh, Miss 
 Letty, don' let Aunt Hagar chawm Jubal, please, 
 miss. I die fo' yuh. I serve yuh han' an' foot." 
 
 "There, Lutie, there," said Lettice, feeling that 
 in her application of Jubal's methods she had gone 
 too far, " come here. Sit down there." She put 
 her hand on the girl's shoulder. "You want to 
 marry Jubal, I suppose. I knew he had been 
 philandering about you for some time. Are you 
 really fond of him ? " 
 
 Lutie's wails subsided into a sniffle. "Yass, 
 miss," she answered meekly. 
 
 "Well, then, I promise you that I will not let 
 any harm come to him or you through anything 
 you may tell me, if you tell the truth. And, more- 
 over, I'll get Aunt Hagar to make you a luck-ball, 
 and I will not tell a living soul who it was that 
 
 204 
 
CONFIDENCES. 
 
 gave you the papers, as long as there is any danger 
 coming to either of you from it. But if you don't 
 tell me the truth— then — " 
 
 Lutie's sobs were again on the increase. " Oh-h, 
 Miss Letty, I sholy is hard pressed. I is skeert 
 one way by ole Cockbu'n an' turrer by de cun- 
 jurin'. I mos' mo' skeerter by de cunjurin'." 
 
 "But you won't tell your mistress, who has 
 always been good and kind to you, when you 
 know it would save her a great deal of trouble? 
 You won't tell unless she threatens to punish you ? 
 Ah, Lutie, think what I might do to make you 
 tell, if I were a hard mistress." 
 
 "Miss Letty, Miss Letty, 'deed, ma'am, I don't 
 want to do yuh so mean. Yuh won't let Jubal 
 come to no ha'm, will yuh, Miss Letty ? " 
 
 "No, I promised you, so far as I have any 
 voice in it, I will not. Don't make me repeat it, 
 you disrespectful girl." 
 
 "Miss Letty, I so bothered in mah haid I fer- 
 gits mah manners," said Lutie, humbly. " I knows 
 a lady lak yuh ain' gwine tell me no story, an' 
 when yuh says nobody know, nobody ain' gwine 
 know. Miss Letty, — hit were Jubal hisse'f." 
 And again the girl lapsed into violent weeping, 
 and the rocking back and forth continued. 
 
 205 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 Lettice was very quiet for a moment. "There, 
 Lutie," she then said, "you needn't cry any more. 
 You are as safe as can be, and so is Jubal. I will 
 not tell on him, but I want you to tell me all 
 you know about it. Did any one give him the 
 papers to give to your Marster William ? " 
 
 " No, ma'am, Miss Letty, he peepin' froo de 
 bushes when yuh puts de box in de groun', an' 
 he say he think dey is gol' an' silver derein, an' 
 he want git me one o' dem carneely rings, an' he 
 jes think he tek a little an' nobody miss hit, an' 
 (. f dey do, dey'll think de Britishers done git hit ; 
 den when he open de box an' fin' nothin' but 
 dem papers in hit, he lay out fur to put hit back 
 agin, but he ain' had no chanst lak he mean 
 ter do, an' so he give hit ter me, an' say I is ter 
 give hit ter Mars William an' do lak he say, an' 
 I so do ; an' he say ef I tells, de Britishers is 
 sho' to come after me, 'cause dey want dem 
 papers." 
 
 "How did he know that?" 
 
 " He heahs yuh-alls talkin' 'bout hit dat night 
 he waitin' on de gin'ral in de gre't hall. Yass, 
 miss, he say all dat." Lutie was very quiet now, 
 and only her wet eyes showed recent weeping. 
 
 "Very good," said Lettice. "Of course Jubal 
 206 
 
CONFIDENCES. 
 
 ought to be punished. He has caused more mis- 
 chief than he knows, and he is not half good 
 enough for you, Lutie ; although, poor ignorant 
 boy, it was a temptation," she added, half to her- 
 self. " Now dry your eyes, Lutie, and go get 
 that pink muslin out of the closet. I am going 
 to give that to you because you told the truth. 
 I'm sorry I haven't a ' carneely ' ring, but there 
 is a string of blue beads in that box ; you may 
 have those." 
 
 Lutie fell on her knees and kissed her mis- 
 tress's bandaged feet in her ecstasy at this deliv- 
 erance from despair and this elevation to heights 
 of bliss, and in a minute she was bearing off her 
 treasures, every white tooth gleaming, as she 
 viewed these darling possessions. 
 
 " I am bound to make no explanations," said 
 Lettice to herself. "What a complication it is, 
 and how badly I have treated poor Robert. No 
 wonder he was so hurt and angry and indignant. 
 Alas, if I tell any one that he is innocent, I will 
 have to prove it, and that I have promised not 
 to do. I shall have to wait events, I suppose. 
 Brother William is away, and there is no one else 
 who will press inquiries. Yet, am I not bound to 
 clear Robert to Mr. Baldwin, and I can do noth- 
 
 207 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 ing else than write to Washington to Robert him- 
 self. Dear, dear, what a scrape I am in ! " 
 
 At this moment Lutie reappeared with the mes- 
 sage : " Miss Letty, Miss Betty say is yuh able to 
 come down to supper? Mr. Bald'in, he comin', an' 
 she say she wisht yuo'd mek yose'f ready, is yuh 
 able." 
 
 " I am able, but some one will have to help me to 
 hobble. Go tell Miss Betty, and then come back 
 and dress me." She felt a little nutter of excite- 
 ment at again meeting the companion of her late 
 adventures, and selected her dress with some care. 
 Yet she sighed once or twice. She had been very 
 unjust to Robert, and of course he could never for- 
 give her. Yes, it was as he had said ; that dream 
 was over. Nevertheless, she had a little feeling of 
 resentment toward him because he had not assured 
 her of his innocence. " If he had not reproached 
 me, but had told me, I would have believed him," 
 she told herself. She had been too hasty, she ad- 
 mitted, but like many other persons, she did not 
 feel willing to exculpate the supposed offender from 
 all blame and to acknowledge herself in the wrong, 
 and her feeling of resentment in consequence almost 
 overcame her regrets. 
 
 208 
 
CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 " Sorrow an' Trouble." 
 
 THE two who had lately been companions in 
 misery met each other, at the supper table, 
 for the first time since the evening of their peril- 
 ous experience. " This is but our third meeting," 
 said Mr. Baldwin, " and how various the circum- 
 stances." 
 
 " There is a mighty big difference between a ball- 
 room, Aunt Hagar's cabin, and our present surround- 
 ings," Lettice returned. " We cannot complain of 
 monotony. How are you, Mr. Baldwin ? Mammy 
 tells me your fever ran high, and no wonder ; I have 
 felt like a rag, myself." 
 
 "Thanks to good nursing I am much better, and 
 shall be able to proceed to Washington to-morrow, 
 I trust." 
 
 " You are not well enough," Mrs. Betty protested. 
 "We cannot let you go when you are but half 
 mended." 
 
 " Ah, but there is no word but duty to those who 
 209 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 have promised to serve their country," replied the 
 young man. 
 
 " Yes, but one owes a duty to one's self as well as 
 to one's country," Betty returned. 
 
 " Every man is needed. With so little success on 
 the frontier, reverses at sea, and this vandal, Cock- 
 burn, ready to destroy and pillage along these shores, 
 it is every man's duty to be at his post, if he is able 
 to get there." 
 
 " Yes, I suppose so," Betty sighed. " That is 
 what William says. With his father and uncle on 
 the frontier, his brother gone to join Barney, and 
 with the plantations running to waste down here, 
 they all have no word but duty." 
 
 "And that is right," Lettice spoke up. "It is to 
 protect their women and their homes that they go." 
 
 Mr. Baldwin nodded with a pleased smile. 
 "After all that you have suffered, to hear you say 
 that, Miss Lettice, proves that you are very loyal." 
 
 " I am the more so that I have suffered. The 
 worse we are treated the more eager we are for the 
 war to go on." 
 
 "That is beginning to be the prevailing spirit. 
 But I wish I could know you safe in Baltimore. I 
 think it is very unsafe for ladies to be left unpro- 
 tected when the enemy is so near." 
 
"SORROW AN' TROUBLE." 
 
 " And such an enemy ! " cried Betty. " Then 
 don't you think you ought to stay and protect us, 
 Mr. Baldwin ? " 
 
 He laughed. " You make me choose my 
 words, and put me in the position of seeming 
 very ungallant. I must go. I cannot do other- 
 wise." 
 
 " Yes, I agree with you," Lettice gave her opinion, 
 " and if I were a man I would go too." And Betty 
 arising from the table, they adjourned to another 
 room, Lettice being carefully assisted by the young 
 man. 
 
 " Each moment I remain is dangerous," he whis- 
 pered, " for each moment it becomes less my desire 
 to leave." Let-ice blushed, and while Betty went to 
 her baby, they two sat in a corner of the wide ball 
 and had a long talk. They had not many friends in 
 common, but they loved their country, and they had 
 struggled with a common foe ; then no wonder they 
 were not long strangers. 
 
 "I have never asked you where your home is," 
 said Lettice, to her companion. "You do not talk 
 like a Southerner, and yet you are Tyler's cousin. 
 I do not seem to distinguish your native place by 
 your speech." 
 
 " I am from Massachusetts," he told her, " but I 
 
 211 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 am something of a cosmopolitan, as every one who 
 follows the sea must be." 
 
 " From Massachusetts ? I thought every one in 
 that state was dead set against the war." 
 
 " Oh, no, not every one. To be sure, New Eng- 
 enders, as a rule, are against it ; but if you should 
 investigate, you would find many gallant soldiers and 
 sailors hailing from our part of the country." 
 
 " Have you always lived there ? " 
 
 "Always. My father lived there all his life, and 
 my grandfather before him, and I am very proud of 
 my native city. Tyler Baldwin and I are second 
 cousins ; his grandfather and mine were brothers, 
 and as I was for some time in Annapolis, near my 
 father's kin, I came to know them quLe well." 
 
 "I am very glad to find one New Englander so 
 fierce a fighter in this war. It doesn't seem right 
 that when she did so much in the Revolution — not 
 that it was more than we did — but when she did so 
 much then, that she should be so dreadfully indiffer- 
 ent now, when it is just as much a war for freedom. 
 I am afraid that, like our old cat there, New England 
 has grown fat and lazy in prosperity. I think I'll 
 name that cat New England, for she has no special 
 name ; Puss seems to be sufficient for her own uses." 
 
 Mr. Baldwin laughed, and they chatted on con- 
 
"SORROW AN' TROUBLE." 
 
 tentedly till the big clock in the hall warned them 
 of the lateness of the hour, and, beyond that, Mammy 
 had been hovering around for some time, with uneasy 
 glances at her patient. 
 
 " I feel as if I had known you for years," Lettice 
 said, as she bade the young man good night. 
 
 " If length of time be counted by the amount of 
 pleasure it brings, I have known you for years," he 
 returned gallantly. 
 
 The next morning he took his leave, and the two 
 women, left alone with the servants, looked forward 
 with dread to what the days might bring them. But 
 before long their hearts were cheered by news from 
 the North ; that news which, in the never-to-be-for- 
 gotten words, "We have met the enemy and they 
 are ours," announced Perry's victory to a grateful 
 people. Report after report of victories at sea had 
 come, but none that matched in importance that 
 which was won by Perry on Lake Erie. All over 
 the country bells were set ringing, cities were illu- 
 minated, toasts were drunk to the young hero, and 
 odes were addressed to him ; and those who before 
 had felt very dubious, now began to place unlimited 
 faith in the success of the American side. 
 
 Even Aunt Martha and Rhoda rejoiced openly, 
 for the former still obstinately refused to leave the 
 
 213 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 plantation, and the latter felt it her " dooty " to re- 
 main likewise. She was a very sweet and gentle 
 Rhoda these days, and Lettice grew more and more 
 fond of her. 
 
 Lettice, it may be said, was not long in recovering 
 her usual health and spirits. One of the first visits 
 she made was to Aunt Hagar. She bore her a gift 
 from Mr. Baldwin, and the old woman was greatly 
 puffed up by the possession of a five dollar gold piece. 
 She made mysterious incantations, and consulted tea- 
 cups and cards, and used other means of reading lat- 
 tice's fortune. The fair man and the dark man, and 
 the fair woman that came between, and the surprise 
 that was partly agreeable and partly disagreeable, 
 were all there, but the most impressive of all was a 
 prophecy which seemed greatly to disturb the old 
 woman herself. 
 
 "Sorrow an' trouble," she said, "to you an' yo' 
 house. Law, honey, law, honey, I is sholy distu'bed 
 to see dat. From across water comes black death, 
 an' here is weepin' an' wailin' an' gnashin' of teef. 
 Dey is meetin' an' partin', an' 'live is daid, an' daid 
 is 'live. Dat is de mos' cur'os fortune I has fo' 
 many a day. I wisht I ain' seen it, I sholy is. I 
 dat hu't in mah min' I can't sleep dis night. What 
 dis ? I lak to know who dat. Go long home, honey. 
 
 214 
 
"SORROW AN' TROUBLE." 
 
 I so 'stracted I dunno what I sayin'." And after 
 Lettice left, until late in the night, the old woman 
 pored over her pack of cards, shaking her head and 
 muttering, " Sorrow an' trouble." 
 
 The next day came a messenger in the person of 
 a small, kinkey-headed darkey. " Mammy Hagar say 
 will Miss Letty come see her. She turr'ble sorry to 
 trouble her, an' she ain' meanin' no disrespec', but she 
 got sumpin' to tell her, an' please, miss, come by yo'- 
 set. 
 
 Lettice donned her cloak and hat and set off, won- 
 dering what was meant by this. It was early after- 
 noon, and the scene was fair and peaceful. One 
 could scarce realize that war ravaged the land. She 
 sauntered along through the woods, stopping every 
 now and then to pick a leaf which had reddened 
 early, or to watch a partridge hurry to cover. At 
 Aunt Hagar's door she knocked. The latch was 
 lifted, and the wrinkled face of the old woman ap- 
 peared. She whispered mysteriously, " Come in, 
 honey," and shutting the door carefully, she beck- 
 oned her visitor to one corner of the room which was 
 screened off by an old quilt. Here, on a rude pallet, 
 lay a man. 
 
 Lettice started back. " Who is it ? " she cried. 
 
 " Dat what I say." 
 
 2I S 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 "Where did he come from ? " 
 
 " He layin' out in de holler o' de ole house what 
 got burnted, an' I gits him here, an' he cl'ar outen 
 his haid an' stupefy. He one o' dem Britishers, yuh 
 reckon ? " 
 
 Lettice observed him more closely ; then she gave 
 an exclamation of surprise. "Why Aunt Hagar, it 
 is Pat — poor Patrick Flynn ! " 
 
 " Is dat so ? I says, ' whar I see him befo ? ' Dat 
 jes' who." 
 
 " But how did he get here ? " 
 
 "I jes' drug him along. I right spry yit, an' I 
 git him a little way an' den drap him an' git mah 
 bref twel I gits him to de boat. I say ef he a fren', 
 I boun' to cyo' him up, an' ef he a Britisher — what 
 yuh reckon I do, Miss Letty ? " 
 
 "I don't know. Don't let us talk of that. It 
 would be hard to decide. As it is, I am very glad 
 it is poor Patrick. He should be taken at once 
 to Aunt Martha's — but no, he probably escaped 
 from some British ship, and was shot while trying 
 to get away. We shall have to keep him in hiding 
 till he gets well." 
 
 "Das what I say, an' dat why I ast yuh come 
 look at him. I say Miss Letty so sma't she know 
 ef he a Britisher, fo' all dem clo'es he vv'ars." 
 
 216 
 
"SORROW AN' TROUBLE." 
 
 "I hope he will get well," said Lettice. "What 
 a joy it will be to his mother if he does. It is 
 just as well that she should not know that he is 
 here, for if he should not recover, she would have 
 the double grief of losing him. Take good care 
 of him, Aunt Hagar, and I will send over some 
 things for him from the house. I will tell Sister 
 Betty. Perhaps she will insist on having him 
 removed to our house, although I really think he 
 is much safer here;" a wise decision, as was proved 
 true before the week was out. 
 
 It was late one rainy evening that Rhoda and 
 Lettice were sitting in the open doorway, listen- 
 ing to the patter of the rain on the leaves. " I 
 feel very dreary, and full of forebodings," said 
 Lettice. " I suppose it is because the autumn is 
 so near. I always hate to see the summer go, 
 and I believe that somehow Aunt Hagar has 
 scared me into thinking something dreadful is 
 going to happen." 
 
 " Something dreadful is happening all the time," 
 Rhoda answered. " I certainly think that an igno- 
 rant old woman's vagaries have nothing to do with 
 it. I am not so superstitious. 1 ' 
 
 "Then you are not a descendant of a Salem 
 witch," returned Lettice, laughing. 
 
 217 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 "Yes, I am, and that perhaps is why I abhor 
 superstition," Rhoda spoke in all seriousness. "One 
 of my ancestors was accused of witchcraft, but fortu- 
 nately the delusion ended before she was executed 
 by the fanatics who hounded the poor innocent 
 creatures to their death. Hark ! What is that ? " 
 
 There was a sound of running feet ; of shots 
 fired ; of sudden cries. The two girls clung close 
 together, and Betty hurried to the door, while the 
 house servants gathered around, quaking with fear. 
 
 Presently from out of the gloom a dark figure 
 staggered toward them and, stumbling, fell at their 
 feet ; then another rushed past them into the 
 house. He blew out the candle Betty held and 
 disappeared. Outside was a clatter and a clamor. 
 A swearing, threatening band of redcoats sur- 
 rounded the house. 
 
 For a moment the three women stood transfixed 
 with horror : then Lettice sprang indoors and blew 
 a shrill whistle which brought from the quarters 
 those negroes who had not gone into hiding at the 
 approach of the soldiers. Their appearance added 
 to the rage of the enemy. The leader struck a 
 light, and taking the candle from Betty's nerve- 
 less hand he relighted it. "Aha, some pretty 
 girls ! " cried out one of the men behind him. 
 
 218 
 
"SORROW AN' TROUBLE." 
 
 "We'll find the vile deserter, and then we'll have 
 some sport with the ladies, eh, boys ? Here's my 
 choice." And he seized Rhoda, who shrank back 
 with a faint moan. This but added to the man's 
 delight and drew her nearer. But at this moment 
 the prostrate man on the porch, who by painful 
 effort had dragged himself to the sill of the door, 
 feebly raised the pistol he held, fired, and Rhoda 
 was free to rush out of the open door into the 
 darkness. 
 
 Those inside were sobered down. " Here, men, 
 search the house," said the leader, sternly. " Fire 
 on any one who dares to stand in the way." 
 
 " What shall we do ! What shall we do ! " Lettice 
 moaned in despair. But Betty had rushed upstairs 
 to her baby, and Rhoda was not in sight. The 
 figure by the door had crawled out into the gloom 
 again. How many of the enemy might be out- 
 side Lettice could not determine, and she stood 
 trembling, daring neither to leave the house nor 
 to follow the men who had gone to the upper 
 rooms. 
 
 Finally she ventured out upon the porch. Near 
 the door Rhoda crouched, and in her lap rested the 
 head of the wounded man whose shot had felled 
 her assailant. She was murmuring incoherent 
 
 219 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 words. Lettice drew near. " Rhoda, Rhoda," 
 she whispered, " who is it ? " 
 
 " Oh, Lettice ! Oh, Lettice, he is dying ! " she 
 cried in a shaken voice. " It is Jamie ! Jamie ! " 
 
 Lettice dropped on her knees by the side of 
 the dear lad who lay very still. Lettice lifted 
 his hand and held it between her own, her tears 
 falling fast. She did not heed the tread of the 
 men who returned from their fruitless search. 
 "The miserable wretch has escaped us somehow," 
 as in a dream she heard one say. "This is the 
 second we have lost this week." He leaned over 
 and touched Lettice' s cheek. "Get up here, girl. 
 I want to look at you," he said. 
 
 Lettice, with streaming eyes arose and with 
 clasped hands approached the leader of the band. 
 " Sir, yonder dying man is my dearly loved brother," 
 she said. " Will you not leave us alone with our 
 great sorrow ? We would be but triste compan- 
 ions for your men. Take what you will, but 
 leave us these last few moments sacred from in- 
 trusion." 
 
 The man stood looking at her a moment ; then 
 turned on his heel. "The presence of a lovely 
 female in distress was always too much for me," 
 he muttered. "We will pursue our search further, 
 
"SORROW AN' TROUBLE." 
 
 and perhaps will pay you a visit later. We will 
 respect your desire to be alone. We, too, have 
 lost a friend." He nodded toward the hall where 
 his comrade lay. 
 
 "He has gone beyond our resentment," said 
 Lettice, gently. "We will bury him in our own 
 graveyard, unless you wish to bear him away with 
 you." 
 
 "No, he will rest as well in one spot as in 
 another," returned the man. "We will continue 
 our duty and leave him to your kind offices." 
 
 He then gathered his men about him and strode 
 away. 
 
 Betty had followed the searching party down- 
 stairs, and now appeared with the candle. She 
 held it so its rays fell on Jamie's white face. 
 "Jamie!" she cried. "Our Jamie! Oh, what 
 terrible thing is this ? " 
 
 He opened his eyes and smiled to see Rhoda 
 bending over him. " I saved you, dear, didn't I ? " 
 he whispered. 
 
 "Yes, you saved me," she controlled her voice 
 sufficiently to answer. 
 
 He let his gaze rest a moment upon her, and 
 then he looked at Lettice. "Kiss me, little sister," 
 he said. She leaned over and kissed his pale lips, 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 One of his hands stirred as if seeking something, 
 and Rhoda slipped her fingers in his. He gave 
 them a slightly perceptible pressure. His eyes, 
 large and imploring, searched her face. She under- 
 stood what he would ask, and she, too, leaned over 
 and kissed him solemnly, and into the searching 
 eyes crept a satisfied look. 
 
 " Can we not get him into the house ? " said 
 Betty, in distress. " Is there nothing we can do ? " 
 For answer there was a quiver of the lad's eye- 
 lids, one sigh, and then his young heart had ceased 
 to beat. 
 
 Down the road the British soldiers were disap- 
 pearing. The three women sat sobbing convulsively. 
 They had no thought for past or present danger, 
 nor for anything but the presence of this great 
 sorrow. 
 
 After a while one of the colored men stole up. 
 "Dey all gone, Miss Betty," he said. As he spoke 
 from the house appeared before them another 
 figure, and some one dropped upon his knees and 
 covered his face with his hands. "Jamie, Jamie, 
 little brother!" he groaned. "Would to God I had 
 been the one ! " 
 
 The startled women lifted their heads. "Brother 
 Tom ! " cried Lettice. " Oh, Brother Tom ! " Then 
 
"SORROW AN' TROUBLE." 
 
 Aunt Hagar's words returned to her, and she re- 
 peated : " ' The dead shall be alive, and the alive 
 shall be dead.' Oh, Brother Tom, it is Jamie, our 
 Jamie ! " 
 
 " Who lost his life in saving mine," said the 
 young man. " Let us bear him indoors." And 
 tenderly lifting their burden, they laid him in the 
 great hall. 
 
 Lettice felt that it was good to have this lost 
 brother to soothe and comfort her, albeit his return 
 brought no joy, for the shadow was too great. She 
 was confused and heart-broken, so that no expla- 
 nations were offered that night. Lettice had but 
 asked, " Are you safe here, Brother Tom ? " and 
 he had replied : " Safer than elsewhere. They 
 have searched here once and have not found me ; 
 they will not come again at once, and we shall 
 be gone before another day. I cannot leave you 
 here to be exposed to these dangers, little sister, 
 and we must get off to Baltimore as soon as ever 
 we can." 
 
 Even the next day they asked no questions, for 
 in the evening, at sunset, they laid Jamie to rest in 
 the old graveyard, and in one corner they buried, 
 too, the British soldier who had met his death 
 through Jamie's last effort for Rhoda. Friend 
 
 223 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 and foe, the service was read over them, and they 
 were left asleep, with all differences forever stilled. 
 
 Rhoda, in her self-control and reticence, gave 
 little evidence of what she felt, and it was only 
 when Lettice saw the anguish in her eyes that 
 she realized that Rhoda's best love was buried 
 with Jamie ; and when she returned to the house 
 she remembered the packet which Jamie had given 
 her. She followed Rhoda to her room to give it 
 to her. The girl was lying, face down, upon the 
 floor, in tearless grief. She did not hear Lettice's 
 light tap at the door, nor did she heed her entrance. 
 "Jamie, oh, my darling!" she moaned. And Lettice, 
 with eyes overflowing, put her arms around her. 
 "Dear Rhoda," she said, "he left something for 
 you." And into her hand she gave the little 
 packet. 
 
 Rhoda's cold fingers closed over it, and in a 
 minute she sat up. " Stay with me, Lettice," she 
 begged. " We will open this together." She 
 reverently undid the little box. On top lay a paper 
 on which was written : " For Rhoda, from one who 
 loved her with all his heart. God bless you and 
 keep you and make you happy, my darling. From 
 Jamie." There was a case underneath. Rhoda 
 lifted it out and touched the spring, to disclose a 
 
 224 
 
"SORROW AN' TROUBLE." 
 
 lock of curly auburn hair and a miniature of Jamie. 
 As his bonny face smiled up at her, Rhoda gave 
 a great cry and shed the first tears her eyes had 
 known since that moment when his spirit passed. 
 
 "It is so like, so like," she murmured. "How 
 I shall treasure it, Lettice. My bonny Jamie, how 
 shall I live through the long years ? And you 
 will never know how much I loved you." 
 
 " He knows now," said Lettice, softly. And she 
 went out, leaving Rhoda more comforted by this 
 than by anything that could have come to her. 
 
 225 
 
CHAPTER XV. 
 
 Jubal. 
 
 THE next day the two girls parted, not to meet 
 again for many a long day. Aunt Martha had 
 received a letter from her husband, in which he 
 begged that she would leave the plantation and return 
 to Baltimore. He had heard of the depredations along 
 the Chesapeake, and was filled with anxiety for her. 
 Therefore she concluded to follow his advice, and 
 made ready to go back to her city home. Betty, like- 
 wise, vowed that she could not remain, for these late 
 scenes had completely unnerved her, and she decided 
 to pack up and go to her father in Kent County, and 
 Lettice agreed to go with her, after receiving the 
 approval of her brother Tom as to the step. 
 
 " I will hunt up William," he said, "and will report 
 to him of your movements." 
 
 Before he left, he told them of how he had been 
 picked up by a British vessel, on that day, so long 
 ago, when he had fallen overboard, and how he had 
 
 226 
 
JUBAL. 
 
 fallen into the captain's humor when he pretended to 
 believe he was one of his own men, and he had joined 
 the service, determining to escape when he had 
 enough of it. Later on he found himself on board a 
 vessel on which were his old acquaintances, Pat 
 Flynn and Johnny Carter. The three put their heads 
 together and laid plans by which they might manage 
 to get away. Tom was the first to make the attempt, 
 and one dark night dropped overboard. He had not 
 given his true name to any one during all this time, 
 nor did he do so when he was picked up by an Ameri- 
 can vessel. 
 
 " I shall never forget," he said, " how bravely a 
 young lieutenant stood by me. He was taking in a 
 prize when he sent out a boat to pick me up, and 
 after I told him my story, he swore he would never 
 give me up, though he died for it. He had a chance 
 to prove his words not long after, and stand by me 
 he did, to such an extent that a fight was on before I 
 knew it, and we carried in two prizes instead of one. 
 But as ill luck would have it, on my way home I was 
 taken prisoner just outside our own bay, for the ves- 
 sel on which I was returning had a little set-to with 
 a British cruiser, and I was nabbed and brought in. 
 But home was too near for me not to make desperate 
 efforts to get to it, and so I did, with what result you 
 
 227 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 see. I hope Pat got away. Poor fellow, he was bent 
 on it, if chance offered." 
 
 " He did then, " Lettice was able to tell him, and 
 she gave an account of him ; then begged Tom to 
 continue his story. 
 
 "As I was making for shore," he went on, "swim- 
 ming up the little creek I knew so well, whom should I 
 see at the old landing where we always kept the boat, 
 but some one else getting ready to row across ; and 
 who should it be but Jamie. I did not know him, for 
 he was only a little chap when I last saw him, but he 
 recognized me, and was overjoyed to see me, in spite 
 of all my misdeeds, and we started off, when pell-mell 
 came a party of British after me. The best thing 
 we could do was to try to cut across and reach home 
 the long way, instead of coming over the creek. So 
 we landed, and at first got along very well, but the 
 wretches, piloted by some one who knew the way, 
 caught sight of us just before we reached here. 
 Jamie kept encouraging me, and said if we could but 
 get to the house it would be all right, and he reminded 
 me of our old hiding-place ; but I tripped and fell 
 over the roots of the old locust tree, and Jamie, 
 never thinking of saving himself, stopped to help me 
 up. I cried out to him to go on, but he would not, 
 and he was hit just as we reached the steps. I didn't 
 
 228 
 
JUBAL. 
 
 even know it, for he called out, ' I'm right behind 
 you, Tom', and — " he stopped short and could not 
 go on. Lettice was sobbing, her face against her 
 brother's broad shoulder. 
 
 Betty's tears were falling fast, and she said 
 unsteadily, " Greater love hath no man than this." 
 
 " Go on, Tom," said Lettice. " Our dear one is 
 safe ; oh, so safe." 
 
 "God grant that when my time comes, I shall 
 not forget his example ! " said Tom, brokenly. He 
 was silent for a moment, and then went on with 
 his story. "I had the wit to blow out the candle, 
 and I ran upstairs to the little closet under the 
 eaves at the end of the garret, that was struck by 
 lightning and boarded up afterward ; you know the 
 place, and how it can be reached from the roof 
 by going down the scuttle on that side." 
 
 "They hunted through the garret well," said 
 Betty, "but there was so much piled up this side 
 that they never dreamed there could be any one 
 beyond. I had forgotten the place myself, though 
 William has often told me how you boys used to 
 hide there and make a playroom of that end of 
 the garret." 
 
 "Jamie had suggested it as a good place, and 
 told me I would find it just the same, so I con- 
 
 229 
 
A HEROINE OF i8i*. 
 
 cealed myself till, through the chinks, I saw the 
 rascals go off, and then as Jamie had not come, 
 I was seized with a mighty fear for him, and 
 could not stay. It will be sad news for our 
 father." 
 
 " Yes ; but there will be good news for him, 
 too," Lettice tried to comfort him by saying. 
 "We have you again." 
 
 A little later, with a quiet good-by to her 
 brother, she parted from him and made ready for 
 her own departure. Lutie, her unwilling helper, 
 dawdled so persistently over the packing that 
 Lettice at last spoke up sharply. " We'll never 
 get ready at this rate. I'll leave you here to be 
 gobbled up by the British if you don't move faster, 
 Lutie." But this threat did not seem to have 
 the desired effect, for, though Lutie hung her 
 head, she looked more cheerful, and Lettice, bend- 
 ing down, regarded her searchingly. " I believe 
 you want to stay," she said severely. " I believe 
 you want to desert your mistress, Lutie." 
 
 Lutie's head hung still lower. "No, ma'am, 
 Miss Letty, 'deed I doesn't ; but I wisht yuh 
 wa'nt gwine." 
 
 " Why ? You are so scared of Cockburn and his 
 men, and yet, now there is danger, you don't want 
 
 230 
 
JUBAL. 
 
 to leave. Ah, I see ; it is Jubal. And what does 
 Jubal say, pray ?" 
 
 " He say dey ain' gwine tech me, but dey gwine 
 run yuh-alls off. An' he say ef he'd a knowed 
 hit were Mars Torm what runned f'om 'em, he'd 
 foun' a way ter git him home better'n de way he 
 come." 
 
 " Humph ! " Lettice was thoughtful. " Lutie," 
 she cried suddenly, " I believe it was Jubal who 
 informed on him. It was Jubal who showed those 
 wretches the short way here, and he had caused 
 your dear Marster Jamie's death. Oh, the wretch ! 
 Why did I spare him ? " 
 
 "'Deed, Miss Letty, he ain't gwine hu't a hair o' 
 yo' haid ; Jubal ain'. He turr'ble bad over losin' 
 Mars Jeems ; he weep, an' mo'n, an' go on ; 'deed 
 he do, Miss Letty. He sutt'nly fon' o' Mars 
 Jeems. Ev'ybody love him, Miss Letty, an' Jubal 
 nuvver do him no ha'm, please, Miss Letty." 
 
 " Hush, let me think." She sat with her cheek 
 pensively resting in her hand, thinking deeply. 
 All at once there was heard a clatter below. 
 " Hark ! " she cried, starting up. " See what that 
 is, Lutie." 
 
 A sharp rap on the door interrupted her, and 
 without waiting a response the room was entered 
 
 231 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 by two or three British soldiers. "We demand 
 that you give up the deserter who has taken 
 refuge here," said the foremost one. 
 
 " No deserter is here," replied Lettice, steadily. 
 
 "I must beg leave to contradict you," said the 
 man, looking admiringly at the girl so fair and 
 slight in her black frock. 
 
 "I speak the truth," she returned. "You are 
 at liberty to search the premises. Look for your- 
 selves." 
 
 "We must press you and your maid into our 
 service," said the man. " Here, you wench," he 
 turned to Lutie, "go with your mistress and show 
 us where the man is hidden." He drew his pistol 
 and touched the cold muzzle to Lutie's temple. 
 The girl gave a stifled scream, and Lettice grew 
 paler. 
 
 "You may use whatever force you choose, but 
 you will not succeed in finding any one hidden 
 here," she said. " I have three brother's ; one left 
 us something like a week ago — " 
 
 "To join your wretched militia, I suppose, and 
 that makes this place our property. We are or- 
 dered to spare only non-combatants and their pos- 
 sessions. Help yourselves, boys. Well, miss, the 
 others, where are they ? " 
 
 23- 
 
JUBAL. 
 
 "My eldest brother has gone to join the younger." 
 
 " Then it is the third we want. Hand him over. 
 Where is he ? " 
 
 " Lying in our little graveyard," Lettice answered 
 brokenly, "slain by one of your bullets. He who 
 had never done wrong to friend or enemy lies 
 there." She covered her face with her hands, and 
 sobs shook her. 
 
 The man was silent for a moment; then he said 
 more gently : " My dear young lady, we had what 
 we supposed to be reliable information on the sub- 
 ject of our deserter. One of your own men told 
 us we should find him here." 
 
 Lutie gave a smothered exclamation, and Lettice, 
 dropping her hands from her tear-stained face, said, 
 " Could you point him out to me ? " She would 
 have her brother Tom get as far on his way as 
 possible ; it was policy to detain these men, and 
 she would know who was this snake in the grass. 
 
 " Yes ; I think there would be no difficulty 
 in identifying him," replied the man. "Go out, 
 Clarke, and see if you can find the fellow. Bring 
 him in here, and see what he will say when con- 
 fronted by his mistress. If the fellow lied — " 
 The click of a trigger told what would happen. 
 
 Lettice with bowed head waited results. Lutie, 
 »33 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 trembling in every limb, cast scared glances at 
 her mistress. 
 
 In a few minutes was heard the tread of the 
 returning soldier, and Lutie fell on her knees, 
 clasping Lettice's skirt. " Spare him, Miss Letty, 
 spare him," she murmured. 
 
 "Get up, wench," cried one of the men. "Let 
 your mistress alone. See here, captain, she's not 
 a bad-looking jade. I'll help myself to her, by your 
 leave, and ship her to my wife." 
 
 Lutie leaped to her feet and rushed toward the 
 in-coming figures of Jubal and his guard. Jubal, 
 with dogged expression, came slinking in behind 
 the soldier. " Found him easy enough," said the 
 latter. " Here, get out of the way, girl." He 
 gave Lutie a kick. 
 
 " Save me ! Save me, Jubal ! " Lutie wailed. 
 " Dey gwine sen' me off, an' I nuvver come back 
 no mo'. Oh, save me, Jubal ! " 
 
 "Shut up," cried the captain. "Here, boy, 
 didn't you tell us there was a deserter around 
 here somewhere ? " 
 
 "Ya-as suh, I — I — done said so," Jubal stam- 
 mered. 
 
 " Well, where is he ? This lady protests that 
 he is not here." 
 
 234 
 
JUBAL. 
 
 Jubal rolled his eyes upon his mistress, and 
 then, with chattering teeth, said, " He were here, 
 suh." 
 
 "Jubal," said Lettice, solemnly, "do you mean 
 your Marster Tom ? " 
 
 Jubal looked from one side to the other. " I 
 didn' know hit were Mars Torm, in de fus' place, 
 Miss Letty, an' when I fins dat out, I skeered to 
 say nobody heah. Beside dat, Mars Torm gimme 
 a whuppin' oncet." 
 
 "And you deserved it," cried his mistress. 
 "You ham-strung his colt because the creature 
 kicked you when you were stealing a ride on him, 
 and you deserved worse than a whipping. You 
 always were a bad fellow, Jubal. I wonder that 
 father did not sell you long ago. I would to 
 Heaven he had ! " 
 
 "Then your man spoke the truth. There was 
 a deserter here," said the captain, turning to Let- 
 tice. 
 
 "There was, if so you choose to consider him, 
 but he is gone. He left us this morning, and 
 when you arrived he was far on his way." 
 
 "Why did you not say so at once?" 
 
 "That he might be farther on his way." 
 
 "Ah-h!" The man smiled. "Well, miss, we'll 
 235 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 search the place, anyhow. There may be other 
 things to learn, and we'll take your maid as a 
 punishment to you for defying his Majesty's ser- 
 vants. We will leave your loyal man to your 
 tender mercies." 
 
 Lettice laid her hand on Lutie's shoulder. " I'd 
 rather you'd leave the maid, sir. It seems to me 
 the man is more devoted to your cause than 
 mine." 
 
 " Oh, Jubal, save me, save me ! " Lutie wailed. 
 
 " Stop that noise," said the captain, sternly. 
 "Here, boy, I want you. We'll have a lark, my 
 men. The man shall fight for the maid. If he 
 puts up a good fight, we will let her go, and if he 
 doesn't, we will take her. Give him a sword, 
 Clarke. We'll have fair play." But as soon as 
 Jubal saw the sword and felt himself freed from 
 the grasp of his captor's hand on his shoulder, 
 with one wild yell, he rushed out pell-mell, head 
 over heels, every soldier after him. 
 
 " Now's your chance," cried Lettice, to the ter- 
 rified Lutie. " Run, Lutie, run to the attic. I'll 
 hide you." And in the same place that had of- 
 fered shelter to her brother a few days before, she 
 hid the girl, and then she ran lightly downstairs. 
 She reached her room before the soldiers returned, 
 
 236 
 
JUBAL. 
 
 and was busied with her packing when they again 
 appeared, laughing and shouting. 
 
 "The fellow had nimble heels," said the cap- 
 tain. " He got away, and I venture to say he'll 
 not stop this side of Baltimore, unless Clarke 
 catches him, for he is still in pursuit. I've told 
 him he can have him if he catches him, and 
 Steele, here, will take the maid. Where is she ? " 
 
 "That you will have to find out for yourselves," 
 returned Lettice, dauntlessly. 
 
 " Aha, you refuse to tell ? What shall we do 
 about it, Steele ? Shall we capture the mistress 
 instead? We might take her a short trip to Kent 
 Island for her health, eh, Steele ? " 
 
 "Divil a bit, will ye," cried a voice at the door. 
 "Ye murtherin' spalpeens, ye'll take Miss Let- 
 tice, will ye? Ye'll take this!" Then crying, 
 " Come on, bhys ! " Pat Flynn, laying about him 
 with cudgel and sword, so lustily began his de- 
 fence of the girl, that in a moment one man was 
 disabled and the others had fled, pursued by Pat 
 with his wild Irish yell and his shouts of: "Come 
 on, bhys, we'll not lave the villyuns a whole hair 
 to split. Come on, the whole pack of ye ! " Let- 
 tice, seeing that the "bhys" existed wholly in 
 Pat's imagination, speeded his rescue by whistling 
 
 2 37 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 up the dogs and setting them on the fleeing men 
 who, with dogs worrying them, an Irishman's shil- 
 lalah setting their heads buzzing, at last got off 
 the place, vowing vengeance. 
 
 "We've no time to lose," said Pat. "They'll 
 like be on us again as soon as they can get rayin- 
 foorcemints. We'll have to get out purty quick, 
 Miss Letty. Where is Miss Betty?" 
 
 " Oh, I don't know. How did you happen to 
 come just in the nick of time? I didn't know 
 you were well enough to show such strength." 
 
 "'Tis all the doin's of the old naygur woman, 
 sure, Miss Letty. She's that grand a nurse I 
 never saw. I'd have been away from here this 
 good bit, but she advises me to lay low, sayin' 
 there's trouble brewin', an' I might be needed. 
 'Twas she, the cute old owl of a crittur, that give 
 me the hint to slip in on ye aisy loike this mornin', 
 'fur,' says she, 'there do be some o' thim divils o' 
 ridcoats goin' in the direction of the great house, 
 Misther Pat,' says she, an' I picks up the shilla- 
 lee I've been havin' by me this week back, an' off 
 I goes. The swoord, 'twas me luck to find out- 
 side the dhoor. Ye'd betther not be wastin' 
 toime, Miss Letty, dear." 
 
 " But that wounded man in my room ? " 
 238 
 
JUBAL. 
 
 " Lave him there. He'll git no betther place this 
 long while, I'm thinkin'. I'll be afther gittin' the 
 horses and carriage ready as quick as I can, Miss 
 Letty, an' do you an' Miss Betty thry yer purtiest to 
 git off." 
 
 " Betty ! Sister Betty ! " Lettice's call rang through 
 the silent house. " Oh, where are you ? " She ran 
 up and down stairs, and at last from the drawing- 
 room came a smothered answer, " Here." 
 
 "Come out from your hiding-place. Wherever 
 you are, come quick." And from behind the pile of 
 green boughs placed in the fireplace to screen it, a 
 grimy, sooty Betty appeared, with her baby in her 
 arms. The little fellow had kept a noble silence, 
 although but half understanding that there was a 
 cause for fear. Every servant on the place had made 
 for the woods when the word had gone forth that 
 the redcoats were chasing Jubal. Even the house 
 servants had not been able to resist joining in the 
 general stampede, and Lutie, up in the little closet, 
 alone remained. 
 
 "Hurry out and get into the carriage," cried 
 Lettice. " It is around by the side of the house. 
 Pat Flynn is there. Hurry, hurry, Betty ; don't stop 
 to wash your face. I am coming in one minute." 
 
 Betty caught up a bag of the articles she had 
 339 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 already packed, and Lettice called from the window 
 to Pat to please try to get her trunk on behind. 
 Then she skurried about, picking up this thing and 
 that, and thrusting it into a pillow case which, when full, 
 she pitched out of the window. This done, with fleet 
 steps she ran up to the attic. " Out with you, quick, 
 Lutie ! " she cried. " Come as quick as you can, or 
 you will get left behind." And Lutie, after scram- 
 bling out on the roof and down the chimney on the 
 other side, reached her mistress, who stood waiting for 
 her. " You will be safe, Lutie, if you hurry ! " she 
 told her. "Come on. Don't stop to get anything." 
 She grasped the girl's arm and fairly dragged her 
 down the steep stairs. Yet, pressed for time though 
 she was, she could not forbear stopping at the door 
 of her room to look in at the man who lay on the 
 floor. He was the same who had claimed Lutie. A 
 sudden thought of Jamie froze all compassion from 
 Lettice's breast. 
 
 " Sir, we leave you to the tender mercies of your 
 own friends," she said. "You see I mean to keep 
 my maid. You cannot send her to your wife." 
 Then she turned with a gentle smile to Lutie. 
 " Come," she said, " we will go, but I think we may 
 never see the old house again, and I do not think 
 you will ever see Jubal again, Lutie." 
 
 240 
 
JUBAL. 
 
 The maid caught her mistress's hand in both of 
 hers and laid her smooth brown cheek upon it. 
 " Yuh loves me better'n Jubal does, Miss Letty. He 
 lef me. He wa'n't willin' ter fight fo' me. Yuh 
 didn't run an' leave me, Miss Letty. De Lord bless 
 yuh, my Miss Letty. I don' spec I uvver see dat 
 fool Jubal agin, an' I don' keer. I belongs ter yuh, 
 an' I is say my pra'rs ter God A'mighty fo' dat till 
 I dies." 
 
 "We take our leave of you, monsieur," said 
 Lettice with a sweeping courtesy, as she turned to 
 leave the doorway. The man shook a feeble fist at 
 her as she disappeared. 
 
 " To leave my room so occupied is dreadful," said 
 Lettice ; " yet better that than to be dragged from 
 it myself. Good-by old home," she cried, waving 
 her hand. " We may never see you again." 
 
 "Don't say so," Betty entreated. "I want to 
 think I am coming back soon." But she, too, gazed 
 out as long as she could, and until the trees hid the 
 last bit of the white house. 
 
 True enough, it was a last look, for an hour 
 later a band of angry men appeared, who, after hav- 
 ing rescued their fallen comrade, plundered the house 
 and set fire to it, and by night only a mass of smoul- 
 dering ruins remained, 
 
 241 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 The carriage was driven along at a lively pace, Pat 
 proving himself as good a driver as a fighter. He 
 had fully recovered from his wounds and was eager 
 to get back to Baltimore, to see service, and to find 
 Mr. Joe. Young Tom Hopkins had started for the 
 North to join his father. " To show him that I mean 
 to do something to wipe out my past record," he 
 said. 
 
 Pat would not give any credence to the belief that 
 Joe was lost. " He's gone off to some av thim furrin 
 countries, an' is lookin' out fur prizes. He's not lost 
 at all, to my thinkin'," he said. This Lettice wrote 
 to Patsey, who was much comforted thereby. 
 
 Patsey, too, had retreated from her home to a safe 
 distance, and was with friends in Washington. She 
 had begged Lettice to go with her, but Lettice had 
 refused, saying that she would be better content 
 in a quiet place, where the merry ways of her little 
 nephew would bring her more solace than could any- 
 thing else. She devoted much time to the little 
 fellow, who grew more and more winsome every day, 
 and was so adored by Betty's parents that he was in 
 danger of being spoiled. 
 
 During the remainder of the year Lettice passed in 
 a quiet village in the county of Kent. Betty, glad 
 enough to be with her own family, soon regained her 
 
 242 
 
JUBAL. 
 
 spirits ; and Lettice herself, deeply as she grieved 
 over the loss of her brother, was not uncomforted by 
 the return of her eldest brother, and by the assurance 
 of being in as safe a place as was afforded. Tom, be 
 it said, had thrown himself heart and soul into the 
 war. He had too many scores to settle, not to deal 
 such blows as opportunity allowed him. For a 
 month or so life was very peaceful for Lettice, and 
 then came a new trouble : Lutie disappeared. 
 Whether she had stolen off of her own accord, or 
 whether she had been captured, could not be dis- 
 covered. Lettice firmly believed the latter to be the 
 truth, and mourned her little maid with real sorrow 
 
 243 
 
CHAPTER XVI. 
 A Time of Rest. 
 
 THE winter passed without special incident to 
 Lettice and the household where she was 
 sheltered, but the spring brought a renewal of dep- 
 redations along the shores of the Chesapeake, and 
 again Cockburn and his men were dreaded and 
 feared. It was one day in the summer of this year 
 of 1 8 14, that Betty and Lettice, sitting out on the 
 porch, discussed soberly their year's experience. 
 
 "Rouse yourself, Letty dear," said Betty. "Do 
 not look so sad. I wish we had not started this 
 topic. I know what memories it has stirred, but 
 you are too young to let your thoughts dwell on 
 grief continually. Here, take the boy ; he has been 
 fretting to go to you ever since we came out here. 
 I shall be jealous of his love for you after a while." 
 
 Lettice held out her hands for the pretty child 
 who, clutching his mother's finger, took a step for- 
 ward, tottered, and then threw himself with a gleeful 
 laugh into Lettice' s arms. "Pretty boy, he will 
 
 244 
 
A TIME OF REST. 
 
 soon toddle about everywhere," said Lettice, hug- 
 ging him up close to her. " I am so glad you are 
 not old enough to be a soldier, baby ; and I hope 
 there will be no more wars in your lifetime." She 
 sighed, and laid her cheek against the child's sunny 
 hair. 
 
 "There, Lettice, don't be so doleful. Let me 
 see, what can we talk about that will be more 
 cheerful? Did you not have a letter from Rhoda 
 yesterday ? " 
 
 " Yes, I did. She is at home in Boston, and 
 writes that the blockade is exciting them up there ; 
 that the cry against the administration is louder than 
 ever, and that they are in a state of fear and dread, 
 continually." 
 
 " And what of Mr. Clinton ? That is a subject 
 which I think might interest you." 
 
 " She didn't mention him," replied Lettice, shortly. 
 
 "Does he know that you have learned of his 
 innocence in the matter of the papers ? " Betty 
 asked, after a short silence. 
 
 "Yes, I wrote to him as soon as I knew. I 
 thought I could not do less. It was right, wasn't 
 it, Sister Betty?" 
 
 "It certainly was. Well?" 
 
 " He never has answered my letter." 
 245 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 "Then he is certainly very rude, and entirely 
 unworthy of my little sister's regard." 
 
 " But think what a dreadful charge it was ; no 
 wonder he cannot forgive me." 
 
 "He should have written, anyhow." 
 
 " But if he had nothing but resentment to express, 
 it was better that he should not, I think. At all 
 events, I have said I am sorry, and I can do no more. 
 I acknowledged that I had formed hasty conclusions, 
 and was as humble as I could be." 
 
 "Which was an acknowledgment against your 
 will, I know. He should have appreciated the fact 
 that it went against the grain for Lettice Hopkins 
 to eat humble pie for the sake of any man. You 
 liked him a little, Lettice ? " 
 
 " I liked him very much at one time, but I never 
 liked him well enough to give up all for him. I 
 should always have disagreed with his opinions. 
 We quarrelled often, and after all this, it would be 
 impossible for us to forget what had come between 
 us. Besides, after the sorrows I have had, I never, 
 never could care for any one who sided with those 
 who were the cause of them." 
 
 " And Rhoda, what does she say ? Rhoda was 
 very fond of our dear Jamie, I well know." 
 
 Lettice did not reply for a moment. She was 
 246 
 
A TIME OF REST. 
 
 rocking her little nephew, whose eyelids were begin- 
 ning to droop over his bright eyes. " He is almost 
 asleep," Lettice remarked. "I cannot tell about 
 Rhoda," she went on to say. " She is a very duti- 
 ful daughter, and although I think she will never 
 forget Jamie, she is young, and some day she may 
 marry, as it would please her father to have her. 
 Ah me, Sister Betty, trouble makes one feel very old. 
 I was such a careless thing a couple of years ago ; 
 but when I think of my two brothers and my father 
 all in peril, of my home destroyed and my friends 
 scattered, is it a wonder that I am sad ? " 
 
 "No wonder at all, dear child, but I predict 
 happy days for you yet. I see a gallant young 
 officer, splendid in his uniform, riding toward my 
 lady sister, and she all smiles and blushes." Betty 
 leaned over, tipped back Lettice's head, and looked 
 down with laughing eyes at her. " I see the smiles 
 and the blushes," she said, kissing her forehead ; 
 then, lifting her head, she gave a start and looked 
 intently toward the gate. "Oh, Letty," she cried, 
 " I see the officer in the flesh! Look yonder, coming 
 up the lane." 
 
 Lettice lifted her eyes ; then dropped them and 
 continued to rock the sleeping baby until a voice 
 said, "Ah, Miss Lettice, I hoped to find you here. 
 
 247 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 What a sweet, peaceful picture is this to a man who 
 has seen only the deck of a frigate for the last six 
 months. May I sit here ? " He took the chair 
 Betty had just vacated and leaned forward to put a 
 gentle finger on the baby's soft hair. " How he has 
 grown," he remarked. " I am tremendously glad to 
 see you, Miss Lettice." 
 
 " I am very glad to see you, Mr. Baldwin." 
 
 "You look pale, and scarce as sunny and blithe 
 as I remember. But I recall that you have passed 
 through deep waters since I saw you." 
 
 The tears gathered in Lettice's eyes, and one fell 
 on the golden head pillowed on her arm. 
 
 The young man viewed her sympathetically. " I 
 wish I could have spared you such a grief," he said 
 gently. "Believe me, I feel it deeply. We were 
 companions in great peril, Miss Lettice, and I can- 
 not feel that we are the strangers our short acquaint- 
 ance would seem to suggest. Will you not tell me 
 all that has befallen you since we met ? I have 
 heard only fragmentary reports." 
 
 " I must take baby in, and then I will tell you," 
 she responded. 
 
 " Let me take him," cried the young man, eagerly. 
 And as gently as possible he lifted the sleeping boy 
 in his arms, touching his lips softly to the fine, pink 
 
 248 
 
"How he has grown ! 
 
A TIME OF REST. 
 
 little cheek, and the act won Lettice's favor more 
 than a deed of valor could have done. Over her 
 sad little face broke a smile, and she looked up with 
 such a glance that the young man hummed softly 
 to himself, " ' From the glance of her eye shun 
 danger and fly.' Where shall I take him, Miss 
 Lettice ? " 
 
 " In here on this couch, and then come speak 
 to Mr. and Mrs. Weeks. We all want to hear the 
 war news. Mr. Weeks, you know, lost an arm in 
 the Revolution, and frets that he cannot go fight 
 the British now. He is always very eager for 
 news." 
 
 "Then I will satisfy his eagerness as well as 
 I can." 
 
 They found Betty's father in the spacious sitting- 
 room. He was a fine-looking old gentleman, gray- 
 haired and erect. Near him sat Mrs. Weeks ; she 
 was much younger than her husband, being his 
 second wife and the mother of Betty, whose half- 
 brothers and sisters were all married and living in 
 homes of their own. Betty stood behind her father's 
 chair. She was arranging his cue, for he still clung 
 to the fashions of half a century before, and to either 
 Betty or Lettice fell the daily duty of tying the cue 
 he wore. 
 
 249 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 "Mr. Baldwin has just come from the city," 
 Lettice announced. 
 
 "And brings news, no doubt. Welcome, Mr. 
 Baldwin." The old man sprang to his feet, and with 
 his left hand gripped the strong right one of the 
 young officer. "Well, sir, we're sitting here pining 
 for news. What is the latest ? " 
 
 " The best is, that Jackson has ended the war with 
 the Creeks." 
 
 " Good ! Jackson's a great man ; would there 
 were more like him in this fight against England ! 
 What next?" 
 
 "We've had some reverses in Canada, sir, but — " 
 
 " But we don't give up, eh ? No, sir, we do not. 
 We may see the country running red with blood, but 
 we'll hold on, at least we Southerners will ; we've 
 inherited enough of the bulldog from England to do 
 that. I suppose Massachusetts is still fussing and 
 fuming and threatening to secede." 
 
 " I regret to say it is so, and I regret it the more 
 that I am from Boston, myself. I think, sir, that it 
 would be a wise thing if you would all get nearer the 
 city, for I hear that an order has been issued by the 
 British commander, Cockburn, to lay waste all dis- 
 tricts along the coast, and to spare only the lives of 
 the unarmed inhabitants ; this, I believe, in revenge 
 
 250 
 
A TIME OF REST. 
 
 for a small raid made by a party of Americans who 
 crossed Lake Erie and destroyed some buildings at 
 Long Point." 
 
 " Humph ! what of the outrages committed along 
 our coast ? " 
 
 " We don't forget them, sir. We will also retaliate 
 when we get a chance." 
 
 " By Jove, sir, I wish I had my good right arm, I'd 
 join you. As it is, they'll not find this inhabitant 
 unarmed, despite his empty sleeve." He laughed at 
 his joke, and clenched his fist with a frown a moment 
 after. 
 
 "Now, father," Mrs. Weeks protested, "you 
 wouldn't offer fight. You've given enough for your 
 country. No one could expect more." 
 
 " It isn't what is expected ; it is what I want to 
 do. I suppose the old graybeards up your way, Mr. 
 Baldwin, would call me a terribly hot-headed fellow." 
 
 " A certain number might, but we young men 
 honor you, Mr. Weeks. I pray you, don't censure all 
 New England for the attitude of a few. To be sure 
 they are leading men, and the Peace party is strong 
 up there, but we furnish some good fighters when all 
 is told." 
 
 " I believe that. I hear Providence has voted 
 money for fortifications in Rhode Island, and that 
 
 25 1 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 the shipmasters in Portland have formed themselves 
 into a company of sea-fencibles, and that even your 
 own state has caught the fever and is preparing for 
 defence." 
 
 " Yes, I am glad to say she is touched at last, even 
 though the Federalists still urge their militia to stay 
 at home." 
 
 " What a contrast to Kentucky and her gallant 
 governor, leading his men to the front." 
 
 "There, father, there," came Mrs. Weeks's soft 
 voice. "You always get excited over that. Mr. 
 Baldwin is a Boston man, remember." 
 
 " But not a Federalist," replied the young man, 
 smiling. " You surely will consider this question of 
 getting farther away from the coast, Mrs. Weeks. It 
 is really not safe for you here." 
 
 " We can ill leave our place just now," said the 
 intrepid Mr. Weeks. ' I am determined to stand by 
 my home till the last. Yet, in the main, I agree 
 with you. Betty and her mother would better take 
 Lettice and the boy and go up to the city." 
 
 "Not I," Mrs. Weeks objected decidedly. "If 
 you stay, so do I ; but I insist that Betty and Lettice 
 shall leave. It is what your husband would wish, 
 Betty." 
 
 " If you could make it convenient to leave to- 
 252 
 
A TIME OF REST. 
 
 morrow, I would be happy to be your escort," Mr. 
 Baldwin told them. Yet it was only after much 
 protesting on Betty's part that the safety of her 
 precious baby became, at last, the inducement which 
 decided her to go up to Baltimore under Mr. Bald- 
 win's care. Mrs. Tom Hopkins was there, ready to 
 open her house to them, and glad enough to have 
 her loneliness invaded by the cheery presence of 
 a baby. 
 
 To Lettice, however, the house was too full of 
 memories for her to feel other than depressed within 
 its walls, and Patsey's eager letters, urging her to 
 come to her in Washington at last had weight even 
 with Aunt Martha. 
 
 " The child looks pale and peaked," she said. 
 " She needs young company to cheer her up." 
 
 " So she does," Betty agreed. " She has been all 
 these months with staid married people, like myself 
 and my parents, and she needs girls of her own age." 
 Betty spoke sedately, as one whose youth had 
 long past, but Aunt Martha quite approved. She 
 objected to an approach to frivolity in married 
 women. " Patsey still keeps up hope," Betty went 
 on. " I suppose you have had no word of Joe, Aunt 
 Martha ? " 
 
 " No, but I've had good news from my husband. 
 253 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 At last we have something besides reverses on the 
 Canada frontier." 
 
 " And such glorious victories at sea ! It makes 
 one very proud of our little navy that has been so 
 snubbed and scorned." 
 
 " Proud indeed ! We have some good patriots. 
 I am lost in admiration over those Kentuckians. 
 What an example their governor has set to the 
 people of the country ! There is a patriot for you." 
 
 "And here's another," laughed Betty, patting 
 Aunt Martha's hand. "You aren't much of a Fed- 
 eralist, Aunt Martha." 
 
 " I am not, I confess. I am disgusted with all 
 these squabbles about the administration, when the 
 foe is at our very doors. Suppose we are taxed, 
 we should have no money for the war, else ; and 
 to pretend it is unjust and as bad as the taxation 
 of the colonies by England before the Revolution 
 is ridiculous. Next there will be civil war, if this is 
 not stopped. Massachusetts may go out of the 
 Union if she chooses, but I'll not go with her, 
 dearly as I love my own state. And I venture to 
 say that is the opinion of the greater part of her 
 people. It is only the politicians who make all 
 this ferment." 
 
 "Good!" cried Lettice. "Aunt Martha, I love 
 254 
 
A TIME OF REST. 
 
 you for that. I wish Rhoda and her father could 
 hear you. I suppose Mr. Kendall still adheres to 
 his opinions." 
 
 " My brother ? Yes, he is blind to everything 
 but his resentment toward the administration, I 
 am sorry to say." 
 
 " Aunt Martha certainly does improve with age," 
 said Betty to Lettice, as she was helping the latter 
 to pack her trunk. " She speaks as tenderly of 
 Cousin Joe as if he were her own son, and she is 
 perfectly devoted to the baby. Poor Cousin Joe ! 
 I wonder where he is ? " 
 
 " Patsey declares he is in some prison, and I 
 don't doubt but that she is right," said Lettice, 
 lifting the cover of her bandbox to see if her best 
 hat were safely inside. 
 
 " I hope, then, he is not in that dreadful Dart- 
 moor Prison," said Betty. " I declare, Lettice, I 
 forgot to ask Aunt Martha about Mr. Clinton. I 
 wonder where he is ? " 
 
 Lettice gave her head a little toss. "It needn't 
 concern us where he is." 
 
 "You're well off with the old love, aren't you, 
 dear?" Betty said. "And as for the new, I'll 
 warrant the way to Washington will not seem 
 very long with him as escort. Yet, I don't see, 
 
 25S 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 with all the fine fellows here in Baltimore, why 
 you couldn't have chosen one nearer home. You 
 are bound to be a Yankee, at all hazards, it 
 seems." 
 
 Lettice laughed. "I haven't chosen any one, 
 Sister Betty, and it is all very silly to take it for 
 granted. Why, honey, I may have a dozen fancies 
 yet." 
 
 "I don't believe it. You and Ellicott Baldwin 
 are cut out for each other, I must say, though I 
 oughtn't to, you little monkey, for I don't want 
 you to leave your own state, and go live up there. 
 However will you manage to subsist on baked beans, 
 I don't know." 
 
 "Goosey! Am I such a poor stick that I can't 
 cook what I like? And, besides, I could take one 
 of our own servants with me, — Speery, for instance, 
 — and teach her." 
 
 Betty, who was sitting on the floor, hugged her 
 knees and rocked back and forth in glee. "So 
 it's all settled, is it ? How many times have you 
 seen him, Lettice ? " 
 
 Lettice blushed furiously. "Nothing is settled 
 with anybody anywhere, silly girl. I only meant 
 that if I ever did have to live in New England, 
 that my home training would prevent me from 
 
 256 
 
A TIME OF REST. 
 
 starving, if I should chance not to like Yankee 
 dishes. That is all." 
 
 "Of course it is all, Miss Innocence. Let me 
 see ; when I was your age, I had been engaged to 
 William a year, and had all my wedding clothes 
 ready. I shall expect an announcement when you 
 get back from Washington." 
 
 " It looks like you do want to be rid of me, after 
 all. Do you suppose I want to marry a man who 
 would be at sea half his time, and who would leave 
 me to mourn at home while he was off, nobody 
 knows where ? No ; give me one of our own domes- 
 tic swains, I say." 
 
 "It's all very well to talk," Betty returned, "but 
 you'll be a Yankee yet." At which Lettice made 
 a face at her, and, having finished her packing, 
 declared that she was tired to death, and that she 
 did miss Lutie more than ever. 
 
 " Lutie loved to pack. She would rather have the 
 chance to handle my gowns than to eat, and that's 
 saying a good deal. Poor Lutie ! " Lettice sighed. 
 
 The next morning she started for Washington, 
 and it was a coincidence that one of the passen- 
 gers going by the same coach was none other than 
 Lettice's former travelling companion, Mr. Francis 
 Key, who at once recognized Miss Hopkins, but 
 
 2S7 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 who had the discretion not to obtrude himself too 
 frequently upon her attention, since it was evident 
 to his perceptions that the young naval officer who 
 devoted himself to the girl was quite able to enter- 
 tain her. And though the way was long, the end 
 of the journey did not seem greatly to be desired 
 by either of the two. 
 
 "Dear, oh me, Lettice, but I certainly am glad 
 you have come," Patsey said, as the two girls, with 
 their arms around each other, and chattering as 
 fast as their tongues could run, made haste to get 
 to the refuge of Patsey's room, after Lettice was 
 landed on the doorstep of Mrs. Gittings's house in 
 Washington. "That is a fine new spark you had 
 dancing attendance on you," Patsey went on, when 
 the two had seated themselves comfortably by a 
 window overlooking the Potomac. 
 
 " Is he not a good-looking fellow ? " Lettice re- 
 turned. " He is from Boston, yet he is as stanch 
 a fighter and as eager for the war as any Mary- 
 lander or Kentuckian." 
 
 "And you like him very much?" 
 
 "Yes, but I hope not too much, for he joins his 
 ship to-morrow, and I would not have my heart 
 rent asunder should he never return." Then, see- 
 ing the effect of her words, she threw her ai ms 
 
 258 
 
A TIME OF REST. 
 
 around Patsey. "Ah, Patsey dear, I should not 
 have said that. I should have remembered. But 
 no news is good news, they say ; so do not let us 
 look for the ill news that flies quickly." 
 
 The house where they were was on Capitol Hill, 
 which neighborhood then represented about all there 
 was of Washington. " I am glad you came to-day," 
 Patsey told her friend, "for this afternoon there is 
 to be a fringe party at the Ingles." 
 
 "A fringe party?" 
 
 "Yes, you know it is quite the fashion to meet 
 around at each other's houses and make fringe for 
 the soldier's epaulets. The government is too 
 poor to buy it, and we can't have our boys go 
 without." Patsey sighed, and Lettice knew of 
 whom she was thinking. 
 
 "You'll be my cousin yet, Patsey," she said, 
 and Patsey gave her a grateful smile ; but despite 
 their girlish enthusiasm over Lettice's arrival, each 
 noted that the other looked sadder and was 
 quieter than when they last met. 
 
 "War is a dreadful thing," said Patsey, shaking 
 her head. " I never knew how dreadful till I 
 came here to Washington ^and heard the talk that 
 our brave men have been beaten and made pris- 
 oners, up there on the frontier, or have been mas- 
 
 359 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 sacred by Indians. I wish there were no war. I am 
 patriotic, I hope, but I think the New Englanders 
 are half right when they say, 'Anything but war.'" 
 
 " Even disgrace ? " 
 
 " Even disgrace ; for we have had that, in spite 
 of all our fighting." 
 
 "But we have had some rousing victories at 
 sea; quite enough to encourage us to keep up a 
 good heart. No, Patsey, with all I have lost, I 
 still believe it was right for us to fight." 
 
 " You have more spirit than I, for I would 
 grovel on my knees, give up everything, be a 
 British subject, or anything else, if it would but 
 give me back my Joe safe and sound. You don't 
 know what it is to feel so, do you, Lettice dear? 
 Your heart is not so deeply touched." 
 
 " No, I don't believe it is," she replied slowly. 
 
 " Yet, I venture to say it beats quicker when a 
 certain person is near," returned Patsey, patting 
 her hand. "Come now, my sister will wonder if 
 we are going to stay here all night without a 
 word to her." 
 
 It was, indeed, as Patsey said; war, war, politics, 
 politics, were all that Washington people talked 
 about. The news from Europe was scarcely less 
 eagerly looked for than home news, and when it 
 
 260 
 
A TIME OF REST. 
 
 became apparent that Napoleon's power was over- 
 thrown, and that England was free to send her 
 transports laden with troops to attempt the subju- 
 gation of the United States, the seriousness of the 
 danger threatening their native land aroused men, 
 north, south, east, and west. 
 
 "Every seaboard city is in peril," the people 
 said one to another, and one August morning into 
 Washington galloped an express messenger with 
 the news that a large fleet of British men-of-war had 
 been seen in the Potomac. It was evident that, 
 despite the obstinate refusal of the Secretary of 
 War to admit the possibility of an attack upon 
 the nation's capital, precisely that was the object. 
 The militia began trooping into town. Few had 
 uniforms ; they were without bayonets, and were 
 so poorly equipped that it seemed a farce for them 
 to attempt to withstand a foe which had just tri- 
 umphed so signally against Napoleon at Waterloo. 
 
 There was much talk, much advice, and great 
 excitement. No one seemed to know what was to 
 be done, or whose orders were to be obeyed, and 
 in consequence of this state of affairs, at first 
 appearance of the British the raw militia, without 
 hesitancy, ran for dear life. 
 
 261 
 
CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 A Day of Disaster. 
 
 " TTOW hot it is; how hot it is!" said Lettice, 
 
 X X on that memorable morning of August 24, 
 1814. "How uncomfortable one can be in this 
 world ! Here we sit nearly dead with the heat, 
 and full of anxiety for our friends. They are fight- 
 ing, Patsey, fighting. My fathers ! when it is so 
 near home one only then can realize the terror of 
 it. Our poor fellows in this choking, blinding dust, 
 and with the sun pouring down on them, must be 
 in a pitiful state. And how will it end ? " She 
 wrung her hands, and began to walk restlessly up 
 and down the floor. 
 
 Patsey in a big chair, fanning herself languidly, 
 said, " Letty dear, you'll not be any cooler for stir- 
 ring about. Do try and sit still." 
 
 " I can't. Indeed, I cannot. Hark ! Here comes 
 some one." 
 
 The door was suddenly opened, and before them 
 stood a man, his features so obscured by the dust, 
 
 262 
 
A DAY OF DISASTER. 
 
 mud, and blood which plastered him from head to 
 foot, that he could not be recognized at first glance 
 in the semi-darkness of the room. He looked at 
 them wildly and burst into a hysterical laugh. 
 "We ran," he said, "all of us. We ran pell-mell, 
 head over heels, every mother's son of us." There 
 was the sound of a choking sob, and he drew his 
 dusty sleeve across his eyes and sank into a chair, 
 breathing heavily. 
 
 Lettice ran to him. "William, Brother William," 
 she cried, " it is you ! Are you hurt ? " She ' 
 peered anxiously down into his face. 
 
 "Hurt? No; didn't I tell you I ran. How 
 could I be hurt ? " He fairly snapped out the 
 words, and she looked at him bewildered. 
 
 "You poor boy," she said gently, after a pause. 
 "What a sight you are. You must be worn out. 
 Come, get freshened up a little and tell us all 
 about it." She urged him into the next room, and 
 they waited his return in silence. Once Patsey 
 said, " Do you suppose he is crazed, Lettice ? " 
 
 She gave a short sob. " I don't know. It is 
 not unlikely, after this day's heat and fatigue. He 
 never spoke so to me in all his life. Oh, Patsey, 
 did you see the blood ? " Both shuddered, and 
 again silence fell till William appeared, looking 
 
 263 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 somewhat more like himself. He stood gazing 
 fixedly at the wall and, without their questioning, 
 began in a hard voice : — - 
 
 "We were marched and marched from pillar 
 to post for no purpose but to be kept marching 
 it seemed. It was at Bladensburg that the Brit- 
 ish were. We scarcely believed they were any- 
 where, but suddenly, when we were exhausted 
 with the heat and the dust and the fatigue of 
 marching, we went out to meet the enemy. No- 
 body seemed to know anything. All was confu- 
 sion and want of discipline. We began well 
 enough, but somebody cried, 'Run,' and there was 
 a sudden panic. We did rally from that and 
 stayed our troops, but it was no use ; some fool 
 cried out that we were beaten. We were not ! 
 We were not ! By Heaven, it is too much ! We 
 were holding our own well, but the idiots who 
 started the stampede kept up the cry, and, like 
 a flock of sheep, one followed another till the flight 
 was complete. Barney's marines fought well, I'll 
 say that for them. I tried to get to them, for I 
 had a dim sort of idea that I could do my part, 
 and at least save my honor by fighting with the 
 sailors, but I was swept along with the rest, and 
 by and by became possessed only with the notion 
 
 264 
 
A DAY OF DISASTER. 
 
 of getting on as fast as I could. It seemed to 
 be the universal intention." He laughed again 
 mirthlessly. "We were raw, undisciplined troops, 
 to be sure, and our enemy had fought under Well- 
 ington against Napoleon, but we could have beaten 
 them, I am sure of it. Why didn't we ? Why 
 didn't we ? " He clenched his hands and strode 
 up and down the room. 
 
 Lettice watched him wistfully, not knowing what 
 to say to this discouraging tale. "Barney's marines 
 at least did good service," at last she said dolefully 
 to Patsey in an undertone, "and I am sure my 
 brother would have stood his ground if he could, 
 even if the others did run away." 
 
 William smiled grimly, and appeared to come to 
 his senses. " I am not here to excuse myself," he 
 said, " but to get you girls out of the city as quickly 
 as possible. The enemy are coming." 
 
 " Truly ? Here ? " they cried, each grasping an 
 arm, and looking at him in alarm. 
 
 " Truly indeed." He shook his head with rage, 
 and bit his lip fiercely. "War on paper, in truth. 
 A pothering, chattering set of civilians, without an 
 idea of how war should be carried on, have allowed 
 the enemy to rout us, to beat us, to enter our capital. 
 But there, girls, I'll not stop to vent my anger now. 
 
 265 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 You must hurry over to Georgetown as quickly as 
 you can. We'll not be the first. Listen ! " He 
 threw open a shutter, and the girls looked forth, 
 to see a terrified crowd of people flocking from every 
 direction. Wagons loaded with household goods 
 were rumbling past the house, all moving in the 
 direction of Georgetown. 
 
 Patsey fled from the room. Below stairs already 
 could be heard a commotion of the removing of 
 heavy furniture, of opening and shutting of doors, of 
 hurried footsteps. 
 
 " Get your things together, Lettice," said her 
 brother. " I will go below and see if I can help Mrs. 
 Gittings to get away. Where is Steve Gittings ? " 
 
 " He is with the militia," Lettice told him. 
 
 " You mean was," returned her brother, his grim 
 humor not deserting him. " Probably he cannot run 
 as fast as I, or he would be here by this." 
 
 Lettice for answer took his hand and laid her 
 cheek against it. "You are so tired," she said. 
 " Come, rest awhile. It must have been terrible, 
 marching in this dust and heat." 
 
 " It was, but — if there had been any one to tell us 
 what to do or where to go, stiff, choking, miserable 
 as we were, we could have maintained our places ; but 
 it was simply a rabble, with nothing but confused 
 
 266 
 
A DAY OF DISASTER. 
 
 orders and no real head. What could we do ? " He 
 suddenly broke down and, to Lettice's distress, 
 sobbed like a child. 
 
 She slipped from the room, and although Patsey 
 and her sister were hurrying to get their most valu- 
 able possessions together, she managed to get a glass 
 of raspberry shrub and a bit of bread to take to her 
 brother, for hunger was added to his other discom- 
 forts. She found that he had regained his self-con- 
 trol and was busying himself in helping the family to 
 depart. 
 
 Mrs. Gittings, for the sake of her children, con- 
 sented to flee. " But if Steve comes, how will he 
 know where we are ?" she complained. 
 
 " He will know you are safe, and I am going to 
 stay and see the end of this ; as soon as I get you 
 safely over the bridge, I mean to come back here," 
 William told her. 
 
 Lettice gave a half-suppressed, " Oh ! " 
 
 He looked at her and smiled. " I can take care c, 
 myself. I proved that this morning, and perhaps t 
 can do some good in some direction. God bless you, 
 little sister." He kissed her and lifted her upon a 
 pile of bedding in the wagon. Mrs. Gittings, with 
 the children crying with fright, and Patsey, scarcely 
 less agitated, were already established in the wagon, 
 
 '267 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 which at once set out to join the procession. There 
 was no room for another in the already full wagon, 
 and although William insisted in following on foot 
 to see them safely out of town, they persuaded him 
 to remain where he was, telling him that he was too 
 worn out to do more, and that if he should drop by 
 the way, he would but add to their distresses. 
 
 The hot sun beat down mercilessly ; the air was 
 filled with stifling dust as the long line of wagons 
 and foot passengers, with not a few on horseback, 
 moved toward the bridge spanning the shores from 
 Georgetown to Virginia. The President and Mrs. 
 Madison had gone over, the latter waiting till the 
 last moment to oversee the removal of a valuable 
 portrait of General Washington from the White 
 House. Many officials also could be seen in the 
 midst of the frightened crowd that poured over the 
 bridge. 
 
 Lettice, with clasped hands and quivering lips, 
 gazed at the white walls of the Capitol looming up 
 dimly through the veil of dust. Running away ! 
 Every one was running away it seemed. Her mind 
 took fantastic ideas ; they were a troop of ants 
 swarming from an ant-hill ; they were the animals 
 trooping into the ark ; they were anything but the 
 citizens of an American city fleeing from a ruthless 
 
 268 
 
A DAY OF DISASTER. 
 
 foe. The blinding, choking dust enveloped her. It 
 was the pillar of cloud which led the Children of 
 Israel. Yes, there were the multitudes crossing the 
 Red Sea, with Pharaoh and his host behind them, 
 and yonder red flare on the shore was the pillar of 
 fire. These fancies possessed her as the wagon rum- 
 bled on, and finally reached Georgetown, where it 
 halted. "And over there is the Promised Land," 
 she said aloud. 
 
 Patsey turned and looked at her. " Are you daft, 
 too, Lettice ? " she said. 
 
 "Yuh ladies bleedged ter git out," said their sable 
 driver; "dat hin' wheel give a mighty ornery creak 
 de las' time we strike a rut, an' I is bleedged ter 
 tinker her up a little befo' we goes on." And out 
 they all clambered, while Simon went off to a neigh- 
 boring blacksmith shop for assistance. 
 
 Patsey, with the hot hand of one little child in 
 hers, stood among the company of refugees, while 
 Mrs. Gittings tried to soothe her fretful baby. 
 " If I only had a little milk to give him, I think he 
 would be quiet," she said. " He is hungry, I 
 know, poor darling. It was useless to bring milk 
 with us ; it would not have kept an hour in this 
 heat." 
 
 " I'll go and see if I can find any," Patsey said. 
 269 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 But the little Dolly clung to her, crying, " I don't 
 want my Patsey to leave me." 
 
 Lettice spoke up. " I'll go, Patsey. I see a 
 little place over yonder; maybe I can get some 
 milk there." And without further words she 
 crossed the street to a shop on the other side. 
 But no milk was to be had, and she trudged far- 
 ther off. The sun beat down on her, and she 
 felt ready to sink from exhaustion, for she remem- 
 bered she had not eaten anything since morning, 
 and very little then. She looked for her purse, 
 but remembered that she had, in her excitement, 
 placed it in her trunk. She stood still in per- 
 plexity. She could only beg some milk for a hun- 
 gry baby ; she could not offer to pay for it unless 
 she went back to Patsey for the money. She was 
 about to re-cross the street, when a pair of horses 
 which had taken fright, came dashing along, and 
 she felt herself suddenly snatched back. Looking 
 up she saw Mr. Baldwin. 
 
 " Miss Lettice," he cried, " I did not dream it 
 was you. Another moment you would have been 
 under those horses' feet." 
 
 "Yes, I know. I was just going to cross, and 
 I got bewildered. I feel a little queer." 
 
 "And no wonder, in this broiling sun. I ven- 
 270 
 
A DAY OF DISASTER. 
 
 ture to say you have had nothing to eat for hours 
 and are tired as well." 
 
 "That is about the truth. I was trying to get 
 a sup of milk for Mrs. Gittings's baby. See, she 
 and her sister are over there, by that wagon at 
 which the man is working. We came near having 
 a break-down and had to halt." 
 
 " You were on your way to Virginia, then ? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "That is good. I think perhaps I can help you. 
 See, there is Tomlinson's hotel ; do you remember 
 it?" 
 
 "Where the ball was held? Oh, yes." She 
 looked up at him and smiled, and for the first 
 time noticed that his face did not wear its usual 
 sunburnt hue. " You have been ill ! " she exclaimed. 
 
 He held up a bandaged arm. "Yes, I have been. 
 My hand and a bit of my forearm were shot away 
 about a month ago." 
 
 " Oh, and were you very ill ? " 
 
 " So, so. We will not talk of it now. Come, I 
 think we can get the desired milk in here. They 
 know me well, for I put up here when I am 
 in town." 
 
 "And you have been here, how long?" 
 
 " I arrived some days ago, but was scarcely in a 
 271 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 state to pay my respects. I am out for the first 
 time to-day." 
 
 "It is not a very good day, either. I am so 
 very, very sorry to hear of your wound," said 
 Lettice, looking her compassion. 
 
 They had reached the hotel by this time. Mr. 
 Baldwin pushed open the door and ushered her into 
 the hall. How well she remembered the place, 
 and that night of rejoicing over victory. Now 
 the triumphant British were entering the city, 
 and the little army of militia was scattered. She 
 remembered Mrs. Madison, as she stood there, 
 the centre of attraction. Now she, too, was a 
 refugee. She had time for no further reflections, 
 for Mr. Baldwin returned with a cup of milk 
 and a couple of slices of bread with some cold 
 meat. 
 
 " This is not very inviting," he said, " but it was 
 all I could get, and it will stay you. Shall I carry 
 the milk over to your friends, and will you rest 
 here till they are ready to go on ? " 
 
 " No, I will go too. How good of you to get 
 this," she added gratefully. 
 
 They arrived before the little group waiting by 
 the wagon, to find that Simon persisted that he 
 could not carry the load, for the vehicle was weak 
 
A DAY OF DISASTER. 
 
 anyhow, and might break down any minute, even 
 if partly unloaded. " It would be perfectly safe 
 for any one to stay here, don't you think so ? " 
 Lettice asked Mr. Baldwin. 
 
 "Yes, I think it would; at least for the present," 
 was the answer. 
 
 "Then I will be the one to stay. I can go to 
 some friend's here, or I could even go back to the 
 house. I heard that ever so many families were 
 simply going to lock and bar themselves in, and 
 would not leave. Brother William will be there, 
 and he would look out for me. Please go on with- 
 out me, Patsey. I am sure the Ingles will take 
 me in. I heard little Mary say that they were not 
 going to leave." And after much protesting 
 against all this, by Patsey and Mrs. Gittings, it 
 was decided that they would go on, and that 
 Lettice should seek such shelter as she could find. 
 
 " You are very brave," Mr. Baldwin remarked, 
 as they stood watching the wagon slowly creaking 
 along over the bridge. " But I remember it is not 
 the first time I have seen evidences of your cour- 
 age. Now, we must find you quarters," he 
 added. 
 
 "I should best like to return to Mrs. Gittings's 
 house." 
 
 2 73 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 "I think you are safer here." 
 
 " And you ? To be sure you have not your 
 uniform, but you will not expose yourself to danger, 
 will you ? " 
 
 "Not unnecessarily. I am hors de combat, as 
 you see, though I still have a right arm I shall 
 put to such service as I can. We must decide 
 upon the safest spot for you, Miss Lettice. Where 
 shall it be?" 
 
 " I will return to Mrs. Gittings's, if you will be 
 so good as to take me." 
 
 "Please let me persuade you to remain here." 
 
 " No, I feel worried about my brother. He was 
 well-nigh crazed by reason of his disappointment 
 and fatigue, and I may be needed. I am not 
 afraid; truly I am not. If he is not there, I can 
 take refuge with neighbors." 
 
 " I am very loath to agree to such a decree." 
 
 "But if I so greatly desire it." 
 
 " Even then I cannot feel that it is a wise thing to 
 do." 
 
 " But I assure you that others have remained who 
 have quite as much at stake. Mr. Henry Ingle's 
 home is close by the Gittings' ; take me there, and I 
 shall be quite safe." And at last overruled by her 
 persuasions he consented, and, after much trouble, a 
 
 274 
 
A DAY OF DISASTER. 
 
 conveyance was found which returned them to the 
 city of Washington, into which the triumphant Brit- 
 ish were already entering. 
 
 The silent house, bolted and closed, showed no 
 signs of life when Lettice and her companion 
 appeared before it. " Do you think your brother is 
 here ? " Mr. Baldwin asked. 
 
 " I hope so," was the reply. " If we could go 
 around by the back way, we might get in. The key 
 will be in its usual place. Mrs. Gittings was particu- 
 lar that it should be, that her husband might be able 
 to find it, in case he should return. They made their 
 way around to the rear of the house and discovered 
 the key of the side door, where it had been left under 
 an overturned flower-pot. They let themselves in 
 and crept upstairs in the semi-darkness, going from 
 room to room till they found in a heavy slumber, out- 
 stretched upon one of the beds, Lettice's brother 
 William. 
 
 " Poor fellow," whispered the girl, " he is thoroughly 
 worn out." 
 
 She leaned over him, and he stirred slightly; then, 
 conscious that some one was looking at him, he 
 opened his eyes and started up, crying, " Halt ! 
 Who goes there ? " 
 
 " Only your sister, brother dear," Lettice answered. 
 2 75 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 " Lettice," he exclaimed. " What are you doing 
 here ? What has happened ? I thought you safely 
 over the river by this time." 
 
 " The wagon broke down, and Simon declared it 
 would not carry so many, so I came back. Mr. Bald- 
 win brought me." 
 
 " Mr. Baldwin ? Where did you encounter each 
 other ? " He peered around and perceived the figure 
 standing in the doorway. "Come in, my dear 
 fellow," he exclaimed. " I owe you a debt for bring- 
 ing this wayward little sister of mine safely here. 
 Aha ! you are wounded ? Were you with the 
 marines ? " 
 
 " No, I was hurt in an engagement down the bay 
 some weeks ago and have been on the invalid list 
 ever since. We beat them that time," he concluded 
 quietly. 
 
 " You are fortunate in having so honorable a result. 
 I wish I could say the same." 
 
 " Brother William is fairly morbid on the subject 
 of to-day's disaster," said Lettice. " Let us not talk 
 of it." 
 
 Her brother turned to her. " I have not heard 
 how you and Mr. Baldwin chanced to meet." 
 
 " We encountered each other in Georgetown, where 
 Mr. Baldwin has been staying." 
 
 276 
 
A DAY OF DISASTER. 
 
 " And where I tried to persuade Miss Lettice to 
 remain." 
 
 "And where I wouldn't," she added. "I thought 
 if anything dreadful were to befall us, I would choose 
 to be with one of my own family, and I do believe 
 we are as safe here as anywhere." 
 
 " Perhaps we are," returned her brother, thought- 
 fully. " If persons keep within doors, I think noth- 
 ing will likely happen to them, unless the enemy set 
 fire to the city." 
 
 "Oh, would they do that?" 
 
 " Have they not done so elsewhere ? But never 
 mind, little sister, we'll have to take the risks, 
 now we are here. You will not thmk of return- 
 ing, Mr. Baldwin, with the streets full of British 
 soldiers." 
 
 "No, he must not," Lettice said decidedly. 
 
 "I bow to your decision, which is more than 
 you did to mine," he returned, smiling. 
 
 "Hark!" cried Lettice. 
 
 "They are here," groaned her brother. For 
 now the tread of advancing feet, the exultant 
 shouts of a victorious army, were heard. Night 
 was approaching, close and warm after the hot, 
 debilitating day, when up the avenue came the 
 irregular lines of the British. 
 
 277 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 " It is fairly suffocating in here," said Lettice ; 
 "let us open the windows." But the words were 
 hardly out of her mouth before a shot struck the 
 closed shutters, and the girl started back with an 
 exclamation of alarm. 
 
 " I think we shall have to stand the heat," 
 remarked her brother, quietly. And indeed it 
 would have been a rash thing to open the shut- 
 ters, for every now and then, from the ranks of 
 the redcoats were sent stray bullets to fall harm- 
 lessly, since no one dared to open a door or 
 window. 
 
 " If only they don't fire the town," said William, 
 as he walked the floor restlessly. Lettice, with a 
 strained look on her face, sat with clasped hands 
 in one of the farther corners of the room. At 
 last Mr. Baldwin, more venturesome than the 
 others, opened a shutter a little way and peeped 
 out. 
 
 "They seem flocking from every direction," he 
 said, as he drew in his head. "The streets are 
 full of them, shouting, singing, firing on whom- 
 ever they chance to see." 
 
 "What was that?" cried Lettice, springing to 
 her feet. For from the direction of the Capitol 
 came the sound of a rattle of musketry, followed 
 
 278 
 
A DAY OF DISASTER. 
 
 closely by a second volley, both accompanied by 
 the crash of glass. 
 
 "Ah-h," groaned William, "they have not the 
 manhood even to spare that ; " for through the 
 clinks of the shutters could be seen the glare and 
 smoke of an ascending fire. The Capitol was in 
 flames. 
 
 279 
 
CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 A Time of Dreadful Night. 
 
 THE night grew darker and darker. Not one 
 of the three in the house thought of sleep, 
 for from time to time the crackle and blaze of 
 some new fire, the roar of the devouring element, 
 announced that one or another building had been 
 sacrificed to the revengeful lust of the enemy. 
 Up and down the streets swarmed the redcoated 
 soldiers, ransacking, shooting wildly, without reason 
 or conscience, at any who dared venture forth not 
 uniformed as were themselves. 
 
 With the advancing hours the gathering of a 
 storm became more and more apparent. Sharp 
 lightning vied with the lollicking flames. Deep 
 growls of thunder drowned the sound of carousals, 
 and the wind, rising to a fury, lashed and whipped 
 the trees, tore away roofs, and shrieked as if in 
 defiance. Soon down came the rain in torrents, 
 in floods, and the flames, so eagerly mounting 
 higher and higher, became less and less aggressive. 
 
 280 
 
A TIME OF DREADFUL NIGHT. 
 
 In the battle between the two elements fire was 
 vanquished. Save for the raging of the storm, 
 there was now little noise in the streets, and the 
 occupants of more than one closely shut house 
 ventured to open the windows to let in the cool 
 air which was sweeping away the intense heat of 
 the day. 
 
 " It is a merciful interposition of Providence," 
 declared William Hopkins. " I think we can take 
 some rest and feel no alarm while the storm con- 
 tinues. Go to bed, Lettice." And Lettice, feeling 
 suddenly heavy-eyed and weary, now that the strain 
 was relieved, obeyed and soon sank into a deep 
 slumber. 
 
 She awoke early, for the sun was shining in 
 at the window which she had left open. She sat 
 up in bed, for a moment bewildered. "Patsey," 
 she called ; then suddenly she remembered, and 
 she sprang up, venturing to peep out into the 
 street. As she looked she saw an officer on a 
 white mare galloping up the avenue; a little colt 
 trotted behind ; it seemed an incongruous sight in 
 that scene of desolation. The streets were full of 
 bits of paper, some charred and soaked with rain ; 
 there were further evidences of the work of 
 plunder, of tempest, and of destruction, but Lettice 
 
 281 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 did not dare to look long, for groups of soldiers 
 were becoming more and more numerous, and she 
 did not know what moment a chance shot might 
 come her way. 
 
 She closed the shutters softly, dressed herself, 
 and ran downstairs. " I must try to get up some 
 sort of breakfast," she said to herself, as she rum- 
 maged through closets and pantry. She was fortu- 
 nate in finding coffee, bacon, corn meal, and some 
 sour milk. With deft fingers she kindled a fire, 
 and then discovered that the water buckets were 
 all empty. "Water I must have," she said, "and 
 I will have to go and fetch it from the pump. It 
 will be better for me to go than one of the men, 
 for I'm what Brother Tom calls a non-combatant. 
 Poor Tom, I wonder is he safe ? " 
 
 She sighed, and picking up a bucket, sallied 
 forth into the street. More than one person had 
 ventured out. There were no soldiers near enough 
 to inspire fear, and she felt quite safe as she ran 
 along toward the old wooden pump which stood 
 before the house occupied by her friends, the Ingles. 
 A little girl was sitting on the doorstep. " It's 
 plain to see you're not afraid, Mary," said Lettice, 
 as she vigorously worked the pump-handle up and 
 down. 
 
 382 
 
A TIME OF DREADFUL NIGHT. 
 
 "No, I'm not," returned Mary. "I came out 
 to see the soldiers." 
 
 Lettice, having filled her bucket, lifted it and 
 set it on the sidewalk. At that moment a British 
 officer, attended by an orderly, came riding up the 
 street. He paused before the pump, and drawing 
 out a silver goblet, summoned his orderly. " Here, 
 bring me a drink of water in this goblet of old 
 Jimmy Madison's," he said. 
 
 Then up spoke Mary Ingle. "No, sir, that isn't 
 President Madison's goblet, because my father and 
 a whole lot of gentlemen have got all his silver 
 and papers and things and have gone — " From 
 the doorway some one reached forth a silencing 
 hand, which was placed over Mary's mouth, and 
 the little maid was drawn within doors. Fortunately 
 the officer had been drinking freely and did not 
 notice the candid statement. He quaffed his draught 
 of water and rode off. 
 
 Lettice did not tarry either, but lifting her bucket, 
 which weighed down her slender arm, she made 
 ready to carry it home. She noticed that fires 
 were again starting up in every direction, and she 
 felt a quiver of fear for the safety of herself and 
 her friends. What if the whole city should be 
 swept by flames ? 
 
 283 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 Setting down her heavy bucket, she stopped a 
 moment for rest. From across the street stepped 
 a young officer, gay in his red uniform. " Let me 
 carry that for you, my pretty maid," he said. " It's 
 good water ; I have tasted it, and I'll carry your 
 bucket home for you for a kiss." 
 
 "Oh, no." Lettice shrank back. 
 
 " Oh, yes, I say." He drew nearer, and, picking 
 up the bucket, held it, laughing. "No kiss, no 
 water." 
 
 "Then no water." And Lettice turned and fled, 
 leaving the soldier laughing at his own defeat. 
 
 The girl hurried on and entered the gate, which 
 she securely fastened, but behind which she stood 
 for a moment, peeping through the chinks, deter- 
 mining that water she must have as soon as there 
 seemed a chance of getting it. But at that instant 
 she noticed that the sky had again begun to 
 darken, and almost before she could reach the 
 safety of the kitchen, a hurricane swept the city. 
 It suddenly became as dark as night ; the wind, 
 which had been high enough the night before, 
 now arose to the violence of a cyclone. Roofs 
 were torn off, trees uprooted, and the air was 
 full of flying particles. Even things ordinarily 
 supposed to be secure were wrenched from their 
 
 284 
 
A TIME OF DREADFUL NIGHT. 
 
 fastenings and went hurtling through the air as 
 if the law of gravitation had suddenly become 
 naught. The rattle of thunder, the sharp light- 
 ning, the tremendous downpour of rain — all these 
 were terrifying, and Lettice dared not go on with 
 her preparations for a meal. 
 
 Before many minutes down came her brother 
 and Mr. Baldwin. " Up already ? " they said. 
 
 "Already? Do you think it is still night? It 
 is long past breakfast-time, and I did hope to 
 have it ready for you, but I was so scared I could 
 not go on with it, and besides, I have no water." 
 Then she related her encounter with the red- 
 coat. 
 
 "You perverse child, will you never learn pru- 
 dence ? " said her brother, shaking his head. 
 
 " I am afraid not," returned she, so earnestly 
 that her brother smiled. 
 
 "Anyhow," she said triumphantly, "I saw Ad- 
 miral Cockburn on his white mare, riding up the 
 avenue this morning. It was when I first got up, 
 and it was so funny to see the little colt trotting 
 on behind." 
 
 " How do you know it was he ? " her brother 
 asked. 
 
 "Mary Ingle told me when I was talking to 
 285 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 her this morning. Dear me, I wish I had Lutie 
 here." 
 
 " I am glad you haven't," returned her brother. 
 "Lutie is a perfect baby, and afraid of her own 
 shadow ; she'd be worse than no one at all in all 
 this." 
 
 " Gracious ! " exclaimed Lettice, " what a report 
 that was ! The lightning has struck somewhere 
 very near, but it shook the whole house." 
 
 " That was no lightning stroke," Mr. Baldwin 
 declared ; " it was an explosion of some kind." 
 
 " Oh, I hope nothing has happened to our friends 
 at the Arsenal." 
 
 " It seemed to come from that direction." 
 
 There was no cessation of the terrible storm, 
 and Lettice finally declared that water they must 
 have. " If I only could have brought my bucket 
 safely home," she said wistfully. 
 
 " There is water enough," Mr. Baldwin said 
 quietly, " when it is coming down in sheets 
 like this. Just set something outside to catch 
 it. Here, I will do it." And he picked up a 
 water bucket and placed it where it would soon 
 fill. 
 
 " What a goose I am!" said Lettice. " Why 
 didn't I think of that ? Did you get very wet ? " 
 
 286 
 
A TIME OF DREADFUL NIGHT. 
 
 " Nothing to speak of. May I help you get 
 breakfast? What can I do?" 
 
 "You may set the table, if you will. Brother 
 William is bringing candles; I am glad of that, 
 for I could scarcely tell meal from sugar in this 
 light." 
 
 The three busied themselves in preparing the 
 simple meal and ate it with a heartiness which 
 long fasting supplied. " There are more fires 
 lighted ; I believe every building of any impor- 
 tance has been set fire to," said Lettice, dolefully. 
 "And to think of being in the midst of all this 
 dreadful time ! I am so thankful for this rain ; 
 maybe it will put out the fires. It does seem as 
 if a special providence had sent it. Isn't it a 
 terrible storm ! Why, I even saw feather beds go 
 flying through the air." 
 
 Mr. Baldwin laughed. " Those feathers probably 
 flew higher than they ever did before," he remarked. 
 
 They were feeling quite cheerful since their 
 meal and were now sitting at one of the back 
 windows watching the steadily descending rain. 
 William had left the room, saying he meant to go 
 in to see the Ingles and hear if they had any 
 news to give. "We have shared more than one 
 danger," said Lettice, after a while. " I feel now 
 
 287 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 as if when this war comes to an end, there must 
 be a few of my friends who will be linked to me 
 by stronger bonds than those of an ordinary 
 friendship." 
 
 "I am glad then that I have been of the privi- 
 leged few, though I would rather have spared you 
 these sad experiences. I wish I could have borne 
 them for you," her companion said. 
 
 "Have you not borne enough?" Lettice gave a 
 glance at the bandaged arm. 
 
 "A trifle, compared to that which some suffered, 
 yet sufficient to dash some bright hopes." 
 
 "I don't see why," Lettice looked down. 
 
 " A man who has nothing but his chosen pro- 
 fession, and who has lost his chances of promotion 
 in that, must stand aside and let others win what 
 neither fortune nor honor will permit him to ask 
 for," he replied steadily. 
 
 "But everything is not to be won by fortune 
 and honors." 
 
 "Would a man be justified in seeking the love 
 of a woman to whom he can offer nothing but a 
 very uncertain future ? " 
 
 " If a woman loves a man, does she care to give 
 any one else the right to win her ? " 
 
 Just then, with a shriek and a wail, a gust of 
 
A TIME OF DREADFUL NIGHT. 
 
 wind arose, and hurled against the window a 
 branch wrenched from a tree. It came with such 
 terrifying force as to shiver the glass, and almost 
 simultaneously came a vivid flash of lightning and 
 a terrific crash of thunder. Lettice, stunned and 
 frightened, staggered against the wall and slid 
 helplessly to the floor, affected by the lightning 
 which had struck a tree near by. In an instant 
 Mr. Baldwin was by her side. He lifted her 
 head to his shoulder, murmuring, "My love, my 
 darling, are you hurt ? " 
 
 She raised her head, half dazed, and looked at 
 him without speaking ; then her head dropped 
 heavily on his shoulder again, and he held her 
 thus, till in a few moments this sudden dash of the 
 storm had abated. Then both rose to their feet. 
 
 " I wonder where William is ? " Lettice said 
 faintly, and suddenly feeling shy. "He — " She 
 did not finish her sentence, for her brother entered 
 the room. 
 
 " I've been out," he said, shaking the drops 
 from his hat. " I went first to the Ingles and 
 heard some news there, and then I thought I 
 would look around a little for myself." 
 
 " In all this fearful gale ? " Lettice said. 
 
 "Yes, I knew there would be little danger from 
 289 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 the redcoats while this storm lasted. Fires are 
 smoldering in every direction. That explosion we 
 heard was caused by the throwing of a lighted 
 torch into an old well where part of our powder 
 was secreted. Twenty-five Britishers were hurled 
 into eternity by the explosion, and many were 
 badly wounded. I think this experience, on the 
 whole, has been too much for Cockburn, for I was 
 told that he is getting ready to leave." 
 
 " Oh, I am glad ! " said Lettice. " Did none of 
 those flying boards hit you?" 
 
 " No, I managed to dodge them, and I didn't go 
 very far. I see you have had an accident here. 
 We must stop up that window ; the rain is pour- 
 ing in." 
 
 "Yes." Lettice looked down, and the color 
 which had left her cheeks came slowly back 
 again. 
 
 " Miss Lettice narrowly escaped being struck by 
 lightning," Mr. Baldwin said unsteadily. " She 
 was sitting near the window when that tree there 
 was struck, and she was stunned. A heavy branch 
 torn from the tree did the damage to the window." 
 
 " And you were not hurt, Lettice ? You are 
 sure?" Her brother looked alarmed. 
 
 " No, I think not. I felt dazed, and my head 
 290 
 
A TIME OF DREADFUL NIGHT. 
 
 still feels queer, but I was only a little stunned, 
 I think. I am beginning to feel all right again." 
 
 "The wind is dying down, though it is still 
 raining hard. I think the worst of the storm is 
 over." 
 
 The rain continued for the rest of the day, but 
 evening brought the tramp, tramp, of retreating 
 feet. Orders had been given that no inhabitants 
 should appear in the streets after eight o'clock ; 
 this that the enemy might escape unnoticed. The 
 city, devastated as it was, received final destruc- 
 tive touches from the outgoing enemy, who set 
 fire to every important building still unharmed, 
 as the retreat was being made. The departure of 
 the foe seemed also to be the signal for the ces- 
 sation of the tempest, for the setting sun shone 
 forth, and the mutterings of thunder died away 
 with the echoing tread of marching feet. 
 
 " Free, at last ! " cried Lettice, when it became 
 known that the redcoats had really gone. 
 
 "Yes, but not safe. We're not out of the 
 woods yet," her brother told her. " Every man 
 of us must fight those fires, or the little that's left 
 will go. Run in and stay with the Ingles, Lettice. 
 Mr. Baldwin and I must go." 
 
 "Oh, but — but he is not well enough." 
 291 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 " I can carry a bucket of water," said the young 
 man, smiling down at her. 
 
 "And ask no reward?" she said in a whisper. 
 
 He turned around and looked at her searchingly, 
 so that a soft pink overspread her face. "Would 
 you give it ? " he whispered back. Then he bit 
 his lip and turned away before she could answer, 
 leaving her half abashed at her own words, and 
 half sorry that she had let him go. 
 
 She ran out of the gate to her good neighbors 
 and found them rejoicing at the departure of the 
 enemy, but still in alarm lest the surrounding fires 
 should break forth and destroy the dwellings still 
 standing. However, many willing hands were 
 ready to stifle the rising flames, and forlorn, mis- 
 erable, wretched-looking as the poor little city 
 appeared, its season of trial was over. 
 
 The despoiled capital was a poor abiding-place, but 
 as soon as Patsey and her sister returned, they urged 
 Lettice to stay, rather than to go back to Baltimore, 
 whither her brother was bent on hurrying ; for it was 
 said that General Ross had his eyes turned upon that 
 place. " And they will not come here again,' for they 
 have taken all there was to take. Bad as it is, there 
 is one consolation — if there is one place above an- 
 other that is absolutely safe, it is Washington," said 
 
 292 
 
A TIME OF DREADFUL NIGHT. 
 
 Patsey. " You would better stay with us, Lettice ; I 
 should think you had seen about enough of this war." 
 
 But Lettice shook her head. "It is dreadful to 
 think of anything happening to Betty and the baby, 
 and my brother will be there. I must stick by my 
 family through thick and thin." And she set forth, 
 to arrive in Baltimore, there to find every one appre- 
 hensive of an attack from the British. 
 
 Betty hugged and kissed her, and declared it was 
 dreadful to think of the scenes she had witnessed ; 
 and then she ran to her husband and cuddled in his 
 arms, putting her hand over his lips when he at- 
 tempted to tell her of the defeat. " I won't hear it," 
 she cried. " I don't care if they all did run. I'd a 
 thousand times rather that, than to have you brought 
 home to me dead or wounded. I am tremendously 
 thankful you didn't give them a" chance to shoot you. 
 I am so thankful that I cannot consider anything 
 else." 
 
 " I believe I agree with you," Lettice joined in. 
 "_, What do you think of it, Aunt Martha? " 
 *, " I think he could do no less, under the circum- 
 stances. It was not his fault that there was a retreat, 
 and he would have been foolish to stand up alone 
 and defy the entire British army." At which they 
 all laughed and settled down composedly to hear Let- 
 
 293 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 tice's story. Danny curled himself up in one corner, 
 all alert for thrilling adventures, and Mrs. Flynn 
 stood in the doorway, one hand on her hip and the 
 other thoughtfully manipulating her chin as she lis- 
 tened. 
 
 " An' now tell 'em your bit o' news, ma'am," she 
 said, turning to Mrs. Tom Hopkins, when Lettice 
 had finished her tale. 
 
 "We've heard from Joe," Aunt Martha told them. 
 
 "Oh!" Lettice sprang to her feet. "Where is 
 he?" 
 
 " In Dartmoor Prison, poor fellow ; and that is 
 almost worse than to hear of his death, for it is 
 doubtful if he will ever get out alive." 
 
 " How did you hear ? " 
 
 " Through a fellow-prisoner, who made his escape, 
 and who promised, should he succeed in getting 
 away, that he would get word to us of Tom's where- 
 abouts. We are all working, and my brother is using 
 his influence to get an exchange." 
 
 " Would you tell Patsey ? " 
 
 "I think I would not, just yet — not till we are a 
 little surer that our plans can be carried out." 
 
 " Have you anything to tell me ? " asked Betty, 
 as she came into Lettice's room that night at 
 bedtime. "William has told me that you saw 
 
 294 
 
A TIME OF DREADFUL NIGHT. 
 
 much of Mr. Baldwin, and that you left him but 
 yesterday." 
 
 "So we did — but, oh, Betty, he cannot go back 
 into the service, because he has lost his left hand 
 with a part of his arm, and he has no money ; and, 
 besides, he wouldn't ask me if he had, for he doesn't 
 think a man maimed and without a profession of some 
 kind would have a right to do it." 
 
 "Neither would he. But never mind, my love, I 
 wouldn't make myself unhappy over it ; love finds 
 a way. And would you take your Yankee lad single- 
 handed ? " 
 
 "Now, Betty, you will joke. Yes," — she hid her 
 face on Betty's shoulder, — "I would, I really would." 
 
 "I said you would be a New Englander yet. I 
 shall have to hand you over to Aunt Martha to-mor- 
 row and let her teach you how to bake beans." 
 
 " But there's no need. You see, he'll not ask for 
 me." 
 
 " Nonsense ; wait till the war is over. What about 
 Robert Clinton, Lettice ? " 
 
 " What about him ? " 
 
 "Yes ; you don't care one wee little bit for him ? " 
 
 " No, no, no ! " 
 
 " Does your — what is his name ? — Ellicott know 
 that ? " 
 
 295 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 " I don't know. I wouldn't be likely to take him 
 by the lapel of his coat and say, " Mr. Baldwin, I 
 want you should know I don't care for Robert Clin- 
 ton." Lettice imitated Rhoda's tones so exactly that 
 Betty laughed. 
 
 "No, you couldn't do that," she agreed. "Now 
 I have something to tell you. He, like an honorable 
 gentleman, has told William that in a moment of 
 excitement, when he thought you were in danger, he 
 declared his love for you, and — " 
 
 " And — oh, Betty, what ? He has never referred 
 to it since ; and tell me, what did William say ? " 
 
 "He requested him not to see you or communi- 
 cate with you till your father's permission could be 
 obtained." 
 
 Lettice heaved a deep sigh. "And what did he 
 say ? " 
 
 " He promised, but asked that you might know ; 
 so, as William had no liking to tell you himself, he 
 asked me to do it. So there — my disagreeable task 
 is over. Do you forgive me for my part in it ? " 
 
 " I thank you for your gentle way of telling me, 
 and I would rather have heard it from you than from 
 William." 
 
 " Thank you, dear. Now, never mind, my honey, 
 just bide your time. For myself, I like Mr. Ellicott 
 
 296 
 
A TIME OF DREADFUL NIGHT. 
 
 Baldwin mightily. Don't you miss poor Lutie, when 
 it comes to a matter of toilet ? " she asked, to change 
 the subject. 
 
 " Yes, poor Lutie, I do miss her. Ah, Betty dear, 
 you are truly like my own sister. You understand 
 so well, and I like better to be with you than any 
 one. Alas, where will be our home ? " 
 
 " I wouldn't bother over that. Let the future take 
 care of itself. ' Sufficient unto the day is the evil 
 thereof,' you know. You have seen evil enough, 
 poor Letty. Good night and sweet dreams ; " and 
 she left Lettice to think over all this new situation. 
 
 Volunteers were tramping into the city ; prepara- 
 tions were going forward for a brave defence, and 
 when Lettice laid her head upon her pillow, it was 
 to dream of future alarms and start up more than 
 once with a little cry. Once Betty heard her and 
 came in to bend gently over her. " She is only 
 dreaming, poor little soul," she murmured. " What 
 a peck of trouble she has had, to be sure." 
 
 The morning seemed to realize Lettice's dreams, 
 for Danny came in, his eyes rolling around in excite- 
 ment. " M-m-miss Letty, dey done corned, dey done 
 corned ! " he stammered. 
 
 " Who ? " cried Lettice, looking up from the 
 flowers she was arranging. 
 
 297 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 " De redcoats. Dey ships in de ribber ; dey is, 
 fo' sho'. I ain' tellin' no sto'y, Miss Letty." 
 
 Lettice knew danger was near, for her brother, 
 who had gone out the night before, had not returned, 
 and she saw that vigorous measures were being 
 adopted for the defence of the city. She thought of 
 Washington and sighed. 
 
 "Is yuh skeered, Miss Letty ? " asked Danny, who 
 was watching to get his cue from her. 
 
 "Not scared, but very anxious. Where is Miss 
 Betty?" 
 
 " She puttin' de baby ter sleep. Miss Marthy, she 
 fussin' roun' lak a ole hen." 
 
 " Sh ! You mustn't talk that way," Lettice chided, 
 in a severe tone. "Aunt Martha," she said, stepping 
 to the window which looked out upon the porch where 
 she was, " do you suppose it is really true that the 
 British are here?" 
 
 " Don't ask me, child. I am distracted. Ought 
 we to stay or go ? I do want to do my duty." 
 
 Lettice smiled. " I don't see that anything will 
 be gained by going ; at least, not yet. I think we are 
 about as safe here as anywhere. Oh, Aunt Martha," 
 she clasped her hands closely, "we'll conquer or 
 we'll die. I am sure this time we must drive them 
 back. We have good defences ; Mr. Key told me so 
 
 298 
 
A TIME OF DREADFUL NIGHT. 
 
 last night, and he said, ' We are in earnest this time ; 
 they'll not find it so easy to get into Baltimore as 
 into Washington.' " 
 
 Aunt Martha stood considering the situation. 
 
 "Where would you go, if you did leave?" Lettice 
 asked. 
 
 " Somewhere out of town ; but as you say, no doubt 
 we are as safe here as anywhere we might hit upon. 
 It doesn't seem a very fitting time to be arranging 
 flowers, Lettice. You'd better be scraping lint ; 
 there probably will be need of it." 
 
 " But the flowers don't stop blooming, battles or 
 no battles," Lettice returned. Yet she bore her 
 bowl of China asters indoors, and, taking a roll of 
 linen from her aunt's hand, she sat down to scrape 
 lint. 
 
 299 
 
CHAPTER XIX. 
 The Star-Spangled Banner. 
 
 FROM time to time during the day came news 
 of a possible engagement. Frigates, bomb- 
 ketches, and small vessels were reported to be rang- 
 ing themselves in position to cannonade the fort and 
 the town. Off North Point lay the ships of the line. 
 In the night began the debarkation of the British, and 
 by noon the next day a battle was imminent. It was 
 an anxious time for those within the town, whose 
 brothers, husbands, sons, or lovers had gone out to 
 meet the enemy. Aunt Martha religiously refrained 
 from idleness, and vigorously scraped her lint when 
 she was doing nothing else. Lettice and Betty 
 helped her by fits and starts. " But I cannot keep 
 my mind on anything," said Lettice. " I am so 
 nervous, so anxious." 
 
 "You'd much better be occupied," returned her 
 aunt, patting a soft pile of her linen scrapings. But 
 Lettice did not respond ; she went to the window 
 and looked out. Few persons were to be seen on 
 
 300 
 
THE STAR-SPANGLED BANNER. 
 
 the street. It was raining, and she wondered how 
 those on their camp ground were faring. 
 
 All day Sunday there came reports of the further 
 movements of the British, who had by this time 
 landed their troops at North Point ; and what might 
 be next expected no one knew, though all feared ill 
 news. " I shall not stay at home from church," 
 Aunt Martha declared, " for if ever there was a time 
 when one should attend to her religious duties, it is 
 to-day. You will come with me, Lettice ? " 
 
 " I suppose I might as well, for I shall be just as 
 miserable if I stay at home, and I shall at least have 
 the satisfaction of knowing I am doing the right 
 thing by going." 
 
 "That is not the right spirit," Aunt Martha 
 objected. " It should be a privilege, and I think 
 you should feel it so." 
 
 " Well, I will try to ; but I know I cannot keep my 
 mind on the sermon for one instant. I shall be 
 thinking of what is going on outside the city." Yet 
 she accompanied her aunt without further words, and 
 announced at the dinner-table that she believed it 
 had done her good to go. 
 
 Shortly after noon of the following day came flying 
 reports that a battle was in progress. Next came 
 the news that the British general, Ross, had been 
 
 301 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 killed. After this were various reports, and, through- 
 out the night, stragglers brought in accounts of the 
 day's action. The next morning early came a sudden, 
 ominous sound. Lettice jumped from her bed. It 
 was six o'clock. She ran to her sister Betty's room. 
 The baby, terrified by the sudden noise, was crying 
 with fright. " Isn't it a hideous sound ! " said 
 Lettice, placing herself at the foot of the bed. 
 " Hark ! it gets worse and worse ; it fairly shakes 
 the house to its foundations. Oh, Betty, do you 
 suppose they will get near enough to bombard the 
 city ? " 
 
 " If they can get past the forts. Pray Heaven they 
 do not!" 
 
 All day the sombre sound of the cannonading con- 
 tinued. At three in the afternoon it grew fiercer, 
 and those who waited in terror, now feared that their 
 beloved town would share the fate of Washington. 
 From the windows Lettice and Betty watched the 
 ascending rockets, and as night came on and the fear- 
 ful booming continued, becoming louder and fiercer, 
 it seemed as if every brick in the house must fall 
 about their ears. 
 
 Suddenly the noise increased in volume. It 
 sounded nearer. What did it mean ? Betty and 
 Lettice, with one accord, rushed out into the street. 
 
 302 
 
THE STAR-SPANGLED BANNER. 
 
 Throngs of anxious people, with pale faces and 
 terror-stricken eyes, were gathered there. " What 
 does it mean ? " they whispered one to another. 
 
 All at once, as suddenly, a stillness fell. It was 
 an awe-inspiring silence. Betty clung to Lettice, 
 crying, " Oh, Letty, we are lost ! " But the bombs 
 and rockets again began to illumine the sky, though 
 now at a greater distance, and when the morning 
 broke upon those who had sleeplessly kept their 
 vigil in the streets of the threatened city, the 
 danger was over. Baltimore was saved. 
 
 That night the British sailed away, and then those 
 who, so short a time before, had appeared a sadly 
 anxious company, driven by fear from their homes, 
 now gayly paraded the streets, cheering and shout- 
 ing as the triumphant troops marched by. 
 
 " I am glad we stayed. I am truly glad, for all 
 that it was so terrible. I am glad to get rid of 
 my recollections of Washington," Lettice exclaimed. 
 "They have gone, Aunt Martha! They have 
 gone, Betty ! Do you realize that it was a 
 victory?" And, seizing the baby, she danced 
 him up and down till he screamed with mirth 
 and excitement. 
 
 They had hardly recovered from their joy at the 
 victory, and the delight in welcoming home the ones 
 • 3°3 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 who had done so much toward winning it, when 
 other glad tidings came to them. Weak, miserable, 
 fever-wasted though he was, it was a day of rejoic- 
 ing for them all that brought Joe home again. Big 
 Pat Flynn and William lifted the wasted figure from 
 the carriage to the house, and Lettice, who was on 
 the lookout for him, ran to the door. She burst 
 into tears as she saw the mournful, hollow eyes, 
 and Aunt Martha, close upon her heels, chid her 
 with : — 
 
 " That is a pretty way to welcome the boy ! Why, 
 Joe — " And then she, too, lost control of herself, 
 and, leaning on Lettice's shoulder, began to weep. 
 
 " That's a pretty way to welcome the boy ! " 
 laughed William. " Here, Betty, can't you do bet- 
 ter than that ? " And Betty, whose chin was quiv- 
 ering, gulped down a rising sob and smiled, saying: 
 " You dear Joe, how glad I am to see you ! Wel- 
 come home, Joe ! Welcome home ! " 
 
 " Heigho, Mars Joe ! " came a small pert voice. 
 " Fo' de Lawd, but yuh look lak a ole rooster what 
 los' he tail fedders." 
 
 " Halloo, Danny ! Where did you pop from ? If 
 I look like a scarecrow now, how do you think I 
 looked when I started for home, before I had a 
 good lot of fresh air and something to eat? Why, 
 
 3°4 
 
THE STAR-SPANGLED BANNER. 
 
 I'm a good-looking fellow to what I was," said Joe, 
 laughing weakly. 
 
 Danny snickered, and Aunt Martha turned, say- 
 ing severely: "Danny, leave the room, and don't 
 let me hear another word from you. Bring Joe 
 into the sitting room, boys, and we'll make the 
 dear child comfortable ; " which, indeed, they did, 
 so that within twenty-four hours he was looking 
 better. 
 
 Lettice's first thought was of Patsey, and she 
 despatched a letter to her as quickly as possible, 
 and there were at least two perfectly happy per- 
 sons under that roof when Patsey responded in 
 person. 
 
 But on top of this came a sad letter from Let- 
 tice's father. " Our dear Tom, my brave first-born, 
 has gone from me," he wrote. " He died to save 
 my life, for/' in a hand-to-hand fight, he threw 
 himself between me and my enemy, shouting, ' I'll 
 save you, father,' and he received the blow that 
 would have finished me. I trust that I yet have 
 one son left, and though I would not have him 
 serve his country less well than those that have 
 been taken, I pray he may be spared to us, and 
 I beseech him not to expose himself to unneces- 
 sary perils." 
 
 3°$ 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 " Dear old Tom," Lettice murmured, with softly 
 falling tears, "it seems as if he returned simply 
 to retrieve himself and to leave behind a loving 
 memory of him. We can be proud of him, now. 
 But oh, Jamie has gone, and Tom has gone, and 
 all I have left is Brother William. Even Lutie is 
 taken from me." 
 
 But a few days after this came a surprise for 
 Lettice. Danny, with dancing eyes, and duck- 
 ing his head as he gave frequent smothered 
 bursts of laughter, appeared at the sitting room 
 door where Lettice sat with her Cousin Joe and 
 Patsey. 
 
 " Somebody out hyar ter see yuh, Miss Letty," 
 Danny announced, and then he ran. 
 
 "Come back here, you rascal," called Joe. 
 " Haven't you any better manners ? Tell Miss 
 Letty who it is." * 
 
 Danny rolled his eyes toward the door. "She 
 say I isn't to tell, suh." 
 
 "Oh, well, never mind, I'll go," Lettice said. 
 She opened the door and stepped out upon the 
 porch. In one corner stood a figure in blue sun- 
 bonnet and checked gingham frock ; it looked 
 strangely familiar. With the sound of the closing 
 of the door the figure started forward, and a soft 
 
 306 
 
THE STAR-SPANGLED BANNER. 
 
 voice said : " Praise de Lawd, dat mah Miss Letty. 
 I is got back." 
 
 " Lutie ! " cried Lettice, running toward the girl 
 and throwing her arms around her. "Where have 
 you been all this time?" 
 
 " 'Deed, miss, I doesn't know. Dem Britishers 
 done tek me off an' ca'y me somewhars, I dunno 
 whar nor wha'fo', an' when de man what say he 
 own me gits killed in dat battle yuh-alls has, I 
 gits a chanst to run away, an' I tu'ns mah face 
 todes Baltimo', an' I keeps a-inchin' along, a-inchin' 
 along twel I gits hyar, an' hyar I is. Law, Miss 
 Letty, yuh nuvver thought I done run away 
 mahse'f ? No, ma'am, I ain' no such notion. I 
 yo' own gal, an' I don' nuvver want no other 
 mistis." Lettice, in sheer delight, gazed at her as 
 if she could not believe her eyes. " I skeered yuh 
 git ma'ied, Miss Letty," Lutie went on, " an' go off 
 yonder wid dat Mars Clinton." 
 
 "You need never be afraid of that," said Lettice, 
 decidedly. 
 
 Lutie twisted her bonnet strings around her 
 finger. " Miss Letty, is yuh know what become 
 of Jubal ? " she asked miserably. 
 
 Lettice shook her head. 
 
 " I knows," said Lutie, solemnly ; " de po' miz- 
 3°7 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 zible sinnah is gone to glory, an' I see him go. 
 Yass, ma'am ; dey blow him into kingdom come, 
 'cause he such a sneakin' varmint, an' he try 
 to do dem redcoats lak he done yuh-alls, an' 
 dey don' stan' no such wucks, no ma'am, an' 
 dey ups an' shoots him. Miss Letty, Danny say 
 young Mars Torm done gone to glory, too. Is 
 dat so?" 
 
 " Yes," replied Lettice, " he died bravely, Lutie ; 
 poor dear Tom. Come in, now, and pay your re- 
 spects to Miss Betty and the rest. Aunt Martha 
 will have to let me keep you this time, for I don't 
 intend to have you out of my sight till we are 
 rid of the British for good and all." 
 
 Lutie willingly sought Miss Betty, and Lettice 
 reentered the room she had just left. She saw 
 her Cousin Joe quietly sleeping, one cheek resting 
 on Patsey's hand, which she would not withdraw 
 from its position. Although the lines of suffering 
 were still apparent upon Joe's face, a happy smile 
 played around his mouth, and Patsey's eyes wore 
 a look of supreme content. 
 
 That evening, when Lettice's brother William 
 came in, he drew from his pocket a small printed 
 paper in handbill form. " Here, Lettice," he 
 said, "your friend, Mr. Francis Key, has dis- 
 
 308 
 
THE STAR-SPANGLED BANNER. 
 
 tinguished himself. It seems he was on board 
 one of the British ships the night of the bom- 
 bardment — " 
 
 "A prisoner?" Lettice interrupted. 
 
 " Yes ; he went to try to gain the release of 
 Dr. Beanes, of Upper Marlborough, and was de- 
 tained during the engagement. You can imagine 
 his feelings ; uncertain as to the result of the 
 battle, and anxiously waiting through the long 
 night for some sign to relieve his doubts and 
 fears. The occasion, however, has given us a 
 beautiful ode. Mr. Key, after being kept some 
 time on board a British vessel, the Surprise, was at 
 last returned to his own cartel ship, the Minden, 
 and there, on the back of a letter, he wrote the 
 song I have just handed to you." 
 
 "What is it called?" Betty asked. 
 
 "The Bombardment of Fort McHenry," Lettice 
 read from her paper. 
 
 " Read it out, Lettice," said her Cousin Joe, and 
 she began : — 
 
 " ' Oh say, can you see, by the dawn's early light, 
 
 What so proudly we hailed by the twilight's last gleaming ? " 
 
 She read it through to the end to a group of 
 attentive listeners. 
 
 3°9 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 "Fine! Beautiful! A noble production!" came 
 the comments. 
 
 " It is not generally known that Mr. Key wrote 
 it," William went on to say, "but his uncle, Judge 
 Nicholson, told me that it was a fact, and that 
 Frank had showed it to him, and that he, being 
 vastly pleased with it, took it to the office of the 
 Baltimore American and had a number of copies 
 printed, one of which he gave to me. Every one 
 is singing it, and it promises to become very pop- 
 ular. The tune is that of "Anacreon in Heaven." 
 You know it, Joe ; come, join in. Come, Betty, 
 come, Lettice, let us try it;" and the Star- 
 Spangled Banner was given with spirit and fervor. 
 Several passers-by, catching the tune, started up 
 the air and went singing on their way, so that 
 after the song indoors was ended, from the dis- 
 tance could be heard, lustily shouted : — 
 
 " ' ' Tis the Star-Spangled Banner ! Oh, long may it wave 
 O'er the land of the free, and the home of the brave ! ' " 
 
 It was toward Christmas that Lettice, coming 
 into her aunt's room one day, found the good 
 lady pondering over two letters which she had 
 been reading. "Your father and your uncle are 
 on their way home," she announced abruptly. 
 
 310 
 
THE STAR-SPANGLED BANNER. 
 
 " Oh, how very glad I am!" cried the girl. 
 "There are some good things left for us, after all, 
 Aunt Martha ; though sometimes, when I think of 
 this war and all it has cost me, I feel as if it had 
 stripped me of everything." 
 
 " This war, indeed ; yes, I don't half blame my 
 brother for calling it an unrighteous proceeding." 
 She tapped the letter she had just been reading ; 
 then she burst out again : " But we would have 
 been cowards not to have fought for our rights. 
 New Englander as I am, I must confess that the 
 Federalists are going too far. What does this 
 convention at Hartford mean but an attempt to 
 dissever the Union ? For all that Edward excuses 
 it on the ground of an effort to thwart an incom- 
 petent government, it means nothing more nor 
 less than an ugly word — secession." 
 
 "Oh, Aunt Martha, really?" 
 
 "That's what it looks like. However, let us 
 hope it will not come about. Here, you may read 
 the letter ; there is one enclosed from Rhoda 
 which will give you her news, such as it is." 
 
 Lettice read the two letters and returned them 
 without a word ; then she went to the window 
 and looked out. "I am very fond of Rhoda," she 
 remarked after a little while. " Her letter did 
 
 3" 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 not show that she was in very good spirits, Aunt 
 Martha." 
 
 "Rhoda is not one to show great enthusiasm," 
 Aunt Martha replied. 
 
 "No, I know that; but she does sometimes 
 write more cheerfully. I wonder will she ever 
 marry." 
 
 Her aunt made no answer, but instead, arose 
 and observed, "I must get the house well in order 
 for Thomas's home-coming." 
 
 "Will they be here in time for the wedding?" 
 
 "They will make the effort." 
 
 " I believe Patsey would be perfectly willing to 
 wait for the sake of having Uncle Tom here." 
 
 " I don't believe in putting off weddings," said 
 Betty, coming in. " It has already been put off 
 once. You must have a new gown for the occa- 
 sion, Lettice. I have been telling you that for 
 weeks ; it isn't like you to be so indifferent to 
 such things." 
 
 "There is time enough before New Year's Eve." 
 
 "Ye-s, but time flies. Come, go down with me 
 and select it. There will be nothing so good 
 for you as a shopping expedition. I must stop 
 in Lovely Lane to attend to a matter, and then 
 we will give ourselves up to choosing your brides- 
 
 312 
 
THE STAR-SPANGLED BANNER. 
 
 maid gown. Lutie can look after the boy, I 
 suppose." 
 
 "Yes, and will be glad to do it. I must look 
 out for a gay calico for Lutie's Christmas." 
 
 "You spoil her," remarked Aunt Martha. 
 
 " Maybe ; but I am so glad to have her with me 
 again." 
 
 She came down a little later, cloaked and tip- 
 peted, her curls peeping from under her beaver 
 hat. Betty looked at her mischievously. " You 
 are decked out fairly well, Letty. I'll warrant more 
 than one head will be turned over a shoulder to 
 look after you this morning." 
 
 " I care not whether any turn," sighed Lettice. 
 
 " Ah-h, that accounts for your pensiveness ; your 
 poor little heart has slipped its leash, and you are 
 pining for — Did I hear Aunt Martha say she 
 had a letter from Rhoda ? Lettice, you are not 
 mourning for Robert Clinton ? " 
 
 " How many times must I tell you, no, no, no ! " 
 replied Lettice, pettishly. "I don't care a whit 
 for him, as you know well ; yet, all this morning's 
 news has brought back the past very vividly, and 
 makes me remember that my home is gone ; and 
 my two brothers — one lies on the shores of the 
 great lakes, and one in our own forsaken grave- 
 st 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 yard. To think that, after all, poor Tom should 
 be denied a resting-place beside his own kith and 
 kin." 
 
 " What matters that to him ? He has won him- 
 self a lasting name for courage and faithfulness, 
 and that is a comfort. Now do put by these sad 
 thoughts and let us talk of the wedding. Oh, by 
 the way, I heard a piece of news ; William says 
 Becky Lowe is to marry Stephen Dean. He has 
 won his lady-love after all these years of devotion. 
 There is nothing like perseverance, you see. Poor 
 Birket ! " 
 
 "Why, poor Birket?" 
 
 " Because he didn't persevere ; he was too easily 
 set back." 
 
 "Now, Betty, I never had a single thought of 
 Birket. He is a nice lad, but too young for my 
 liking." 
 
 "I know that, my dear grandmother, and I 
 do not forget that your true love is a sailor 
 lad." 
 
 "You mean he was. My dear love will never 
 again be a sailor." 
 
 "There are other things he can be. He has 
 been true to his word, has he, Lettice ? " 
 
 "Of course," she returned proudly. "If he 
 3H 
 
THE STAR-SPANGLED BANNER. 
 
 made a promise to William, he will keep it to the 
 bitter end." 
 
 "Well, it is a great thing to be able to have 
 faith in one's true love. Here we are. Now let 
 us see what we can find to make my little sister 
 outshine the bride." And they were soon absorbed 
 in turning over mulls and muslins, till they settled 
 upon what suited them. Then came a visit to the 
 mantua-maker, and the two returned home in fine 
 spirits. 
 
 The days sped by, till the last day of the year 
 brought Patsey's wedding-day. Sylvia's Ramble 
 was opened to receive all the Hopkins tribe, and 
 Aunt Martha, more excited than Lettice had ever 
 seen her, went around with a duster from room to 
 room. 
 
 "Do sit down, Aunt Martha," her niece begged. 
 "You will be tired out before night, and these 
 rooms are already as clean as hands can make 
 them." 
 
 "My child, I can't sit down. Why, Lettice, I 
 am to see my husband to-day, after all these years." 
 She faltered, and mechanically moved her duster 
 back and forth upon the already polished table, on 
 which, all at once, a tear dropped. "There, I am 
 getting in my dotage," said Aunt Martha, turning 
 
 31S 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 away, ashamed of this evidence of emotion. 
 " Hark ! Lettice, do I hear wheels ? " 
 
 Lettice ran to the door. " Only Mose from the 
 store, Aunt Martha," she reported. "The boat is 
 not in yet." 
 
 But it was not long before there was a shout and a 
 hurrah, a clatter of hoofs and a rumble of wheels, 
 the shrill laughter of little children, as the picka- 
 ninnies scampered to open the gates ; and in they 
 swept, the long-absent soldiers in the carriage, Joe 
 and William on horseback, Patrick behind them all 
 on a lively mule ; then in another moment the master 
 of Sylvia's Ramble was at home again, while Lettice, 
 laughing and crying, was clasping her father's neck 
 and gazing with loving eyes at his tanned, weather- 
 beaten face. " Father, my dear, dear daddy, you are 
 here safe and sound ! " 
 
 " Here, you people," cried Joe, " I want you to 
 know this is my wedding-day, and I expect all the 
 fuss to be made over me." 
 
 " Pshaw ! " cried Lettice, gayly. " People can get 
 married any day, but it isn't every day that one has 
 a chance of welcoming back war-stained veterans." 
 
 " Can get married any day, eh ? Well, I haven't 
 found that I could, or I'd have been a Benedict some- 
 thing over a year." 
 
 316 
 
THE STAR-SPANGLED BANNER. 
 
 " This is better than Dartmoor Prison, isn't it, 
 Joe ? " said his uncle. 
 
 " Sh ! Sh ! Let us have no such reminiscences to- 
 day," said Betty. And then they all went into the 
 house to discuss the dinner, over the preparation of 
 which Aunt Martha had spent much anxious thought. 
 
 3*7 
 
CHAPTER XX. 
 Her Valentine. 
 
 LETTICE was not long in seeking a private talk 
 with her father, there was so much that each 
 wanted to say without the presence of listeners ; and 
 when many of the sad things had been talked over, 
 and when the gladness of the present again enfolded 
 them, her father drew the girl close to him. 
 
 " And what is this I hear of an impecunious 
 young fellow who has dared to make love to my 
 daughter?" he said. 
 
 " He didn't, father, he really didn't ; he couldn't 
 help himself, for it was in a moment of great sus- 
 pense." And she told him the circumstances. 
 
 " And you have not given him any reason to hope 
 he may win you ? " 
 
 "No-o. I don't know. I like him, you know." 
 She twisted a button on her father's coat round and 
 round. 
 
 " Ah-h ! " he shook his head. " That will not do, 
 my baby. You are too young to judge of what is 
 
 3iS 
 
HER VALENTINE. 
 
 best for you. Give him no more thought. I cannot 
 have my little girl throw herself away upon a poverty- 
 stricken fellow with no means of livelihood and not 
 likely to have any. You are still too young to have 
 this weigh long upon you, my love. Be guided by 
 your daddy, who thinks only of your happiness, and 
 give up this young man, if you love me." 
 
 Lettice's lip quivered, but she said bravely : " But 
 suppose I cannot help loving him, father. I would 
 not love you any the less ; and it would only mean 
 that I would always be at home with you, if I were 
 faithful to him the rest of my life." 
 
 "You have not seen him ? He has kept his word 
 to William that he would not try to see you till my 
 return ? " 
 
 " Yes ; but I know he is as true to me as I am 
 to him. If you say so, father, I will not see him 
 again, and I know he would not have me do any- 
 thing to make you unhappy, but — " She put her 
 head on her father's shoulder to hide her wet 
 eyes. 
 
 Mr. Hopkins looked troubled. "Well, my love, 
 well, just let me have time to look further into the 
 matter. I didn't realize that you felt so about it. 
 Don't let your old dad make you unhappy upon this 
 very first day of his home-coming. Cheer up now, 
 
 3 J 9 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 and let it rest as it is for the present. I promise you 
 to give the subject my best attention." 
 
 Lettice put up her mouth for a kiss, feeling a little 
 more comforted. Surely her father loved her too 
 well to let her be miserable all the days of her life. 
 Perhaps, after years and years of waiting, when her 
 lad should have become a rich man through some 
 unexpected means, her father would consent ; mean- 
 time she would try to be happy, and she could at 
 least think of him, even if she didn't see him. 
 
 If there was happiness and peace at Sylvia's 
 Ramble, so there was a great joy in the home of the 
 fair bride. Such a glad ending to a sad year. Her 
 Joe's wife ! Faithful, loving Patsey had no other 
 thought ; and when, as the day drew to a close, and the 
 guests from far and near came flocking in, each 
 whispered to the other, " Did you ever see such a 
 radiant face as the bride's ? " 
 
 "And when is your wedding to be, Lettice?" 
 asked Becky Lowe, important in her own prospec- 
 tive marriage. 
 
 " Law, child, don't ask me ? " replied Lettice, 
 lightly. " But pray don't insist that I shall be your 
 bridesmaid, Becky, if you would have me married, 
 for this is my second service in that capacity ; the 
 first was at Brother William's wedding, and you 
 
 320 
 
HER VALENTINE. 
 
 know the old saying, 'three times a bridesmaid, 
 never a bride.' " 
 
 " Who told you I was to be married ? " simpered 
 Becky. 
 
 " I didn't have to be told," Lettice replied teas- 
 ingly ; " it is a self-evident fact. Are we to have a 
 dance? So we are. With pleasure, Tyler." And 
 leaving Becky, Lettice was led out upon the floor. 
 She longed, yet hesitated, to ask her partner when 
 he had heard from his cousin, and where was he ? 
 But all of a sudden her heart stood still, for there in 
 close converse with her father stood her comrade in 
 many a perilous hour. He looked grave and was 
 talking earnestly. Lettice, so confused that she 
 forgot her steps, turned the wrong person, to the 
 amusement of her friends. "Who could ever sup- 
 pose that Lettice Hopkins would forget a dance ? " 
 cried one. So she recovered herself and took better 
 heed to the figures of the Cauliflower, and at the end 
 of the dance was led back to her seat, her eager 
 little heart beating fast. Why did he not come and 
 speak to her ? And O dear, why should her father 
 detain him ? Did he mean that when he was sep- 
 arated from her but by the distance of a few feet, he 
 was still to keep his promise to avoid her ? Com- 
 mon politeness would forbid that. Surely they were 
 
 3 21 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 talking longer than was necessary, and accounts of 
 battles and such things would keep till another time. 
 Yet, perhaps it was she of whom they were talking, 
 and the thought made her heart beat even faster. 
 
 Presently her father looked over to where she sat 
 and smiled at her ; then he spoke a few words to his 
 companion and both came toward her. 
 
 " I have been thanking this young gentleman for 
 his several services done my daughter," said Mr. 
 Hopkins. " I was fortunate in having the oppor- 
 tunity.'' Lettice looked up with a lovely smile and 
 murmured a few conventional words of greeting. 
 
 " Lettice, my love," said her father, gravely, " do 
 you know that Mr. Baldwin is the same who helped 
 our poor Tom to escape from the British ship ? Mr. 
 Baldwin did not know him as the same, under his 
 assumed name, and, strange as it may seem, I never 
 connected Mr. Ellicott Baldwin with the young 
 lieutenant who came so nobly to Tom's defence, and 
 I promised Tom that if ever I had the chance I 
 would try to pay his debt of gratitude ; so, Mr. Bald- 
 win, will you give my daughter your hand — for this 
 dance ? " The start and blush which followed these 
 words caused Mr. Hopkins to smile. 
 
 " Would it tax your generosity beyond its limit to 
 ask you to grant my request for a dance, Miss Let- 
 
 322 
 
HER VALENTINE. 
 
 tice ? " said Mr. Baldwin, looking at her with all his 
 soul in his eyes. 
 
 She arose immediately, and for the rest of the 
 evening she was enveloped in an atmosphere of 
 joy. She forgot that she had not seen her lover, 
 nor heard from him, in all these months. She was 
 aware only of a new gladness, of how delightful it 
 was to have him near her. She did not know 
 she could be so glad. Once Betty whispered as 
 she passed them, "You look as happy as the bride 
 herself, Letty." 
 
 Lettice for answer made a little mouth at her. 
 She felt all her youth and buoyancy returning to 
 her, as she found herself once more in the company 
 of this beloved one and surrounded by the merry 
 friends of her childhood. To all who knew her 
 she was the old Lettice of the days before the war, 
 and her pretty, innocent coquetries but added to 
 her charm. 
 
 " Shall you remain long in the neighborhood ? " 
 Mr. Baldwin asked. 
 
 "No, we only came down for the wedding. I 
 do not know what Brother William and Betty will 
 do ; Uncle Tom wants them to stay at Sylvia's 
 Ramble till their new home is built, but I shall 
 probably go back to town with my father. I have 
 
 3 2 3 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 not heard his plans ; we have been so busy with 
 the wedding. Is not Patsey a sweet bride, and 
 does not Cousin Joe look as if he were in the 
 seventh heaven ? They have been such a devoted 
 pair of lovers that every one is the more interested 
 in them, especially as we came so near to losing 
 Cousin Joe." 
 
 " And you are happy, I hope, Miss Lettice ? It 
 must be a great pleasure for you to see your father 
 again. You did not expect I would be here to- 
 night, did you ? " he asked abruptly. 
 
 "No, I did not." 
 
 " My cousins would have it that I must come 
 down to spend Christmas, and then nothing would 
 do but I must stay for this affair. I had to refuse 
 at first, but Tyler insisted, and when I knew your 
 father would be here, I consented." The two looked 
 at each other, and there was a complete under- 
 standing of the state of affairs without further 
 explanation. 
 
 " Have you been in Washington all this while ? " 
 Lettice asked. 
 
 " No, I returned to Boston for a short time. I 
 made a visit to my sister ; she is my only near 
 relative, you know ; and then, as I was not in 
 sympathy with the Federalist movement, in which 
 
 3 2 4 
 
HER VALENTINE. 
 
 so many of my friends up there believed, I thought 
 I would return to Baltimore and see what I could 
 do as a landsman. I have been rather hopeless 
 about my future till now." 
 
 " And now ? " The look of interest and loving 
 sympathy in Lettice's eyes was almost too much 
 for the young man's self-control. 
 
 "I am more encouraged," he told her after a 
 moment's pause, in which it seemed to him that 
 she must hear the wild beating of his heart. " I 
 shall remain in Baltimore, and may I hope to see 
 you there ? You will be at your uncle's for the 
 present ? " 
 
 "I think so, and — yes, I will be glad to see you 
 there." She wondered if he had the faintest idea 
 of how glad. " Hark, there is twelve o'clock strik- 
 ing," she exclaimed ; " it is the New Year. I can 
 be the first to offer you my good wishes. May it 
 be a happy year to you ! " 
 
 " May it bring you much joy ! " he returned, bend- 
 ing over and kissing her hand ; surely that little 
 offering of homage might be allowed him on the 
 occasion of the dawn of a new year. 
 
 " Happy New Year ! " called one to another. 
 "Happy New Year!" 
 
 "It is a happy New Year to us, Patsey," said 
 325 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 Joe, as the last guests departed, and the last lan- 
 tern twinkled down the road. 
 
 "It is the happiest New Year of my life, Joe," 
 said Patsey, lifting her face to his. "My dear, 
 my dear, suppose you were still languishing in that 
 terrible prison ! " She shuddered and hid her face 
 on his shoulder. 
 
 " It is you who wear the fetters now," said Joe, 
 playfully, to turn her thoughts from the subject. 
 
 "Yes; but I rejoice in my bondage," said Pat- 
 sey, kissing her shining wedding ring. " I glory in 
 being a slave. I am your willing prisoner." 
 
 "Not my prisoner, but my queen, my wife," he 
 answered. 
 
 "It is a happy New Year for me," said Lettice, 
 cuddling close to her father's side, as they drove 
 home together. "What were you and Mr. Bald- 
 win talking about so long?" 
 
 He drew her closer to him under the warm 
 bearskin robes. "About several things. Is my 
 little girl so very fond of that young man ? And 
 would it make her very unhappy to give him up ? " 
 
 " Oh, daddy, dear, you mustn't ask such personal 
 questions." 
 
 "But I want to know." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 126 
 
HER VALENTINE. 
 
 "Because if he is everything to you, I shall put 
 into execution a plan I have ; otherwise, I might 
 do something else. You see, he has no future, my 
 child, unless some one uses influence to give him 
 a start. I would rather he were a Marylander, 
 but he cannot help it that he had the misfortune 
 to be born elsewhere," he added, laughing. " Now, 
 the question is : How far shall I use that influ- 
 ence?" 
 
 Lettice's answer came in muffled tones from under 
 the robes, "Use every particle you possess." 
 
 And her father, with a laugh that turned into a 
 sigh, returned : " So let it be, my love. Now don't 
 ask me any more questions, but let time decide 
 how it will turn out." And Lettice was quite 
 content at this. 
 
 The next thing they were all settled down in 
 Baltimore, and Mr. Baldwin was filling the place 
 Lettice's father had always intended for Jamie, 
 while Lettice realized that this new confidential 
 clerk was obliged to stop at the house very fre- 
 quently upon one pretext or another. So the win- 
 ter promised to be a very pleasant one. 
 
 The report of the great battle of New Orleans, 
 with the news of peace, came to end all contro- 
 versies over the war, and the young people of Let- 
 
 327 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 tice's acquaintance organized a grand sleighing party 
 in honor of the good news. 
 
 Did she ever forget that night? Under the 
 gleaming stars, well muffled up from the winter's 
 cold, she did not feel the sharp, frosty air. From 
 her quilted hood of silk bordered with swansdown, 
 her fair little face peeped like a rosebud from a 
 snowdrift. She snuggled down warmly by the side 
 of Ellicott Baldwin, who had grown so deft with the 
 use of his one hand that to drive was no great task. 
 Over the snow they sped, bells jingling ahead of and 
 behind them. They talked of many things. It was 
 not often that they were alone in each other's com- 
 pany, and at last the conversation took a new turn. 
 
 "Do you know what I said to your father that 
 last night of the old year? Are you cold, darling? 
 You shivered then." 
 
 "Did I shiver? No, I am not cold." She was 
 trembling at his words. "What did you say?" 
 she asked, almost in a whisper. 
 
 " I told him how much I loved his daughter, 
 and he said that I must not tell you then, but 
 that if I could make myself a place in business, 
 as I hoped to do, that he would then be better 
 able to say whether I might speak to you or not. 
 And then — how good he is! — he gave me the 
 
 328 
 
HER VALENTINE. 
 
 chance to show what I could do. Lettice, am I 
 presumptuous? Could you? Do you?" 
 
 " Oh, here is the bridge ! We shall have to stop 
 and pay toll." But before the bridge was crossed, 
 more than one toll was paid. 
 
 " I don't care if he has but one hand," pouted 
 Lettice to Betty's teasing remarks, when the latter 
 came up for the grand illumination. 
 
 "And he is a Yankee." 
 
 "Well, suppose he is?" 
 
 "And he'll take you away from your father, 
 whom you have sworn never to leave." 
 
 " Indeed, then, he will not ; for we are all to 
 live together, and so much the better for my dear 
 dad. Aha ! a valentine ! See, Betty ! It has come 
 by a special messenger. Danny found it under the 
 door. Isn't it a beauty, with that pretty filigree 
 paper, and those roses ? And what lovely verses ! 
 They are original, I know, for perhaps you are not 
 aware that my sweetheart has a gift for making 
 rhymes. Listen : — 
 
 "'LINES TO THE LADY OF MY LOVE. 
 
 " ' God bless thee, dearest, for thy love, 
 Whose pure and holy light, 
 Upon ray pathway here below 
 Hath shed its radiance bright. 
 
 3 2 9 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 God bless thee for the tenderness 
 
 Thy spirit aye hath shown 
 Midst all the darkness, doubt, and gloom 
 
 Thy fond, true heart hath known. 
 My dearest, I think but of thee 
 
 In evening's silent hour. 
 And when fond mem'ry bears me back 
 
 I gladly own thy power. 
 Where'er I go, whate'er betide, 
 
 One only love is mine. 
 Thro' sunshine and thro' storm my heart 
 
 Is wholly, truly thine.' 
 
 " Isn't that lovely, Betty ? My Valentine, you 
 truly are." And she kissed the verses so raptur- 
 ously that Betty laughed merrily. 
 
 "It does me good to see you really in love at 
 last, Lettice. I used to think you ' quite gone ' 
 when Robert Clinton was with us." 
 
 " Do not speak of that ; yet, by the way, what do 
 you think ? Ellicott saw him in Philadelphia last 
 week, and instead of fighting a duel, as they had 
 both vowed to when they should next meet, they 
 actually shook hands over the good news of peace 
 at last. And Ellicott told him of me, and, so he 
 says, Mr. Clinton looked quite pale at what he told 
 him of our engagement, but wished him joy and 
 congratulated him as bravely as his best friend 
 would do. He sent me his best wishes, too, and 
 
 33° 
 
HER VALENTINE. 
 
 so I may consider that he has forgiven me. On 
 top of all this, to-day comes a letter from Rhoda 
 to Aunt Martha, a dutiful letter, as Rhoda's 
 always are. Here it is ; I will read you what she 
 says : ' My father has long been anxious to make 
 a match between myself and Robert Clinton, 
 and so I have consented. Robert and I have a 
 warm affection for each other and have known 
 each other from childhood. I think I know all of 
 his faults as well as his virtues. Each of us has 
 a past to confess, as you well know, my dear 
 aunt, but it is a past that can never be recalled, 
 and I shall not be a less dutiful daughter and wife 
 because of mine.' " 
 
 " Poor Jamie ! " sighed Betty. 
 
 "Yes, but I am glad of this piece of news. I 
 shall not care to meet Mr. Robert Clinton again, 
 but Rhoda I shall always love, and I believe she 
 loves me." 
 
 And indeed, Rhoda came all the way from Boston 
 to be Lettice's bridesmaid, for the wedding took 
 place in the spring. Lettice declared that she 
 would never leave her father, and since Joe and 
 Patsey had come to Baltimore to live, it was high 
 time that they were leaving her uncle's. 
 
 "Bless me!" said Betty, "we shall be ruined in 
 331 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 preparing for so many weddings ; Patsey's first, 
 and then yours, before we have taken breath. 
 Will you come down and be married from our new 
 house, Lettice ? It isn't as big as the old home, 
 but it will hold a warm welcome for our friends. 
 To be sure, we can kill no fatted calf, for all the 
 British left us is one old ewe, and William and I 
 are counting upon starting life over again, depend- 
 ing upon her as our sole prospect of future wealth." 
 
 Lettice laughed. "Patsey might spare you a 
 goose ; she tells me she has already a brood of 
 young goslings." 
 
 "I don't have to go to Patsey to find a goose," 
 replied Betty, saucily ; " you haven't taken your 
 eyes from that note you just received. I suppose 
 it is from that precious Yankee of yours. Is it a 
 receipt for brown bread ? Mother promised me 
 a hen ; she actually has two whole ones left, and 
 if I can get eggs I'll have some chicks before 
 long. And father has a heifer which he traded 
 for, with some old Tory or other, and which he 
 has promised me. But I can't promise you any 
 great fixings, Lettice, dearly as I want to have 
 you married from our house. Will you come ? " 
 
 Lettice shook her head. "No, we shall be 
 married at St. Paul's. I think I would rather not 
 
 33 2 
 
HER VALENTINE. 
 
 go down again just now, Betty." And Betty un- 
 derstood. "There should be no sad memories 
 to mar the girl's wedding," she reflected. 
 
 Yet Lettice did go down once more to her old 
 home, and she stood with her lover in the old 
 graveyard which had been the scene of so many 
 experiences. 
 
 "Do you remember the night we first came 
 here together ? " Ellicott asked. " I loved you 
 then and was desperately jealous of Robert 
 Clinton." 
 
 "Were you really?" said Lettice. She stood 
 thinking it all over. "You had some reason to 
 be, sir," she acknowledged. Then she drew closer 
 to him. "But there can never be a cause for that 
 again. No one can ever come between us now, 
 my beloved." And what answer he made, only the 
 mating birds in the trees above them heard. 
 
 A pretty wedding it was, with a goodly array of 
 uniforms to offset the bright gowns. The church 
 was crowded, many bronzed faces were to be seen, 
 and more than one empty sleeve. Lutie, carried 
 away by the occasion, bore her mistress's train half- 
 way up the aisle, and when she discovered what 
 she had done, she retreated, overcome by confu- 
 sion, to be scolded by Aunt Hagar, who made her 
 
 333 
 
A HEROINE OF 1812. 
 
 first journey to Baltimore to see "Mars Jeems's 
 Miss Letty git ma'ied." 
 
 "I prosefy dat match long whiles ergo," she said 
 to Mammy who, in all her glory, was in charge of 
 Betty's baby, and waiting to ride to church "lak 
 white folkses." 
 
 "Yass, ma'am, I prosefy dat," Aunt Hagar 
 reiterated. 
 
 "Go 'long," said Mammy. "Ennybody prosefy 
 dat. Hit don' tek no preacher ner no luck-ball 
 ter jint dem two f'om de fust. I see dat whilst I 
 nussin' him dat time." 
 
 " Humph ! " Aunt Hagar gave a mighty grunt. 
 "Ef I ain' hed de prosefyin' an' de 'intment, an' 
 de cunjurin' o' dey inimies, whar yuh reckon dem 
 young folkses be now?" 
 
 But Mammy had no answer to make, for the 
 carriage was ready, and it was too important an 
 occasion to spend time in "argyfyin'." 
 
 " Lettice certainly has a lot of friends," said 
 Betty, as the carriage bearing the newly wedded 
 pair drove off. " I believe the entire American 
 army must have reserved their discarded footwear 
 to throw after that couple. Did you ever see such 
 a pile of old shoes ? " 
 
 A week later Rhoda returned to her home to 
 334 
 
HER VALENTINE. 
 
 make ready for her own wedding. Lettice kissed 
 her good-by with more emotion than she believed 
 possible. Would they ever meet again ? Rhoda 
 herself, looking back through a mist of tears, saw 
 the picture which ever after remained with her : 
 a fair young wife in her new home, standing 
 between husband and father, loyal to both, as she 
 had always been to the cause for which they had 
 suffered. 
 
 335