United States -- History -- Revolution, 1775-1783 -- Fiction
I followed her guidance, bewildered, yet having every confidence the
reason for this mysterious occurrence must be fully justified. The
passage curved slightly, terminating at a closed door. Scarce a
reflection of the candle reached us here, yet my eyes were by now
sufficiently accustomed to the gloom so that I could trace the outlines
of her face. A vague doubt took possession of me.
"You are causing me to run away from Grant," I protested blindly. "You
are making me appear afraid to meet him."
"No, it is not that," swiftly. "He was not coming to you personally at
all--you were to be arrested."
"What! He knew me then?"
"I am not sure--some one did, and mentioned his suspicions. Captain Grant
was glad enough of an excuse, no doubt, but he," the soft voice
faltering, "he made a mistake in twitting me for being friendly toward
you."
"And you came to warn, to save me!" I exclaimed, pressing her hand.
"That was nothing; I could do no less. I am only glad I knew the way."
"You mean how you might reach me first?"
"Yes; it came to me in a flash when he first left me alone, only I was
not certain in which parlor you would be waiting. I ran through the
kitchen and down the back stairs; I helped the officers plan their
decorations, and in that way learned of this private passage beneath the
stairs. It was easy, but--oh, listen! they are in there now!"
We could hear voices through the intervening wall clearly enough to even
distinguish words, as the speakers exercised little restraint. I felt the
girl's slender figure press against me in the narrow space where we
stood, and I clung to her hand, both remaining motionless and silent.
"The fellow has run, Grant," boomed some one hoarsely, "either afraid, or
else what you say he is. See here, boy, did you see any one in here
lately in scarlet jacket?"
"I don' just 'member, sah," answered a negro, hesitatingly. "I was busy
over dar' cleanin' de side-boa'd."
"Well, he's not here now, that's certain," broke in Grant impatiently,
"and we've been in all the parlors? What next, MacHugh?"
"Try to head him off before he can get out of the city, of course. That's
his game, probably. Osborne, have Carter come here at once. Why didn't
you nab the fellow upstairs, Captain? Fool play that, sending him down
here."
"I didn't wish to create a row in the ball-room; he was with Claire
Mortimer--"
"Oh, I see," laughing coarsely. "Something besides military duty
involved, eh?"
"I'll trouble you to be a trifle more careful, MacHugh," Grant said
stiffly. "The fellow did her a small service in the afternoon, and she
couldn't refuse dancing with him, as he was in uniform, and apparently
all right. I advise you to drop that part of the affair. Here's Carter
now."
I could hear the click of the newcomer's spurs as he crossed the room.
MacHugh chuckled.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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