Daughters of the Revolution and Their Times - Part 33
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Part 33

"I have not, and I hardly know what the Cross of St. George stands for."

"It is a beautiful story. I read it not long ago in a book which I found in Mr. Knox's store. Would you like to hear it?"

"Please tell me about it."

"The story runs that ever so many years ago there was a terrible dragon--a monster, part snake, part crocodile, with sharp teeth, a forked tongue, claws, and wings. It could crawl upon the land or swim in the water. Every day it came from its lair and ate the sheep in the pastures around the old city of Berytus. When the sheep were gone it ate little children. The king of the city could think of nothing better than to issue an edict requiring the selection of two children under fifteen years old by lot, to be given to the dragon. One day the lot fell upon the king's daughter, the Princess Cleodolinda, a beautiful girl, and as good as she was beautiful. It was a terrible blow to the king. He offered all his gold, precious stones, glittering diamonds, and emeralds, and half his kingdom, if the people would consent to her exemption, which they wouldn't do. He had made the edict; they had given their children; he must give his daughter. Being king, he thought he could take somebody else's daughter. That made the people angry, and they threatened to kill him. Then the princess showed how good and n.o.ble and true she was. She said she would die rather than there should be any trouble. It was a sad morning when she bade her father and mother and all her friends good-by, and went out from the city, all the people weeping to see her in her youth and beauty, so calm, peaceful, and resigned, walking in the green field, waiting for the dragon. They saw the monster crawl towards her. Just then they beheld a young man with a shining shield and waving plume, on horseback, with sword and lance, approaching. It was George of Cappadocia, a brave Christian youth. 'Fly! fly!' shouted the princess.

'Why should I fly?' he asked. 'Do you not see the dragon? He will eat you as he will me.' 'I am not afraid of him, and I will deliver you,'

said he, rushing upon the dragon with his lance. It was a terrible fight. The monster hissing, running out his tongue, snapping his jaws, striking with his tail and sharp claws; but the brave George kept up the fight, striking his lance through the thick hide and shiny scales, and pinning the writhing creature to the earth. 'It is not by my own might, but G.o.d, through Jesus Christ, who has given me the power to subdue this Apollyon,' he said. At that, the whole city accepted the Christian religion. In recognition of the victory he put the sign of the letter X, representing the cross, upon his flag. The king was so pleased that, besides becoming a Christian, he offered George all his gold and silver and diamonds and precious stones; but the prince would not keep them; he gave them to the poor."

"It is indeed a beautiful story," said Robert, charmed by the narration.

"I suppose the legend represents the conflict between wickedness and righteousness," added Miss Newville.

"Did George become the son-in-law of the king?" Robert asked.

Miss Newville laughed heartily.

"If it were a story in a novel," she said, "of course that would be the outcome of the romance. No; he went on his travels converting people to Christianity. The Greek Christians kept him in remembrance by adopting the letter X as the sign of the cross. When Richard the Lion-Hearted started on his crusade to rescue the holy sepulchre from the Moslems, he selected St. George as his protector. He is the patron saint of England. He stands for courage in defense of the truth."

"That is what the Cross of St. George should stand for, Miss Newville, but just now it represents tyranny and oppression. It is a beautiful flag, the crosses of St. George and St. Andrew combined, in red, white, and blue. No other banner symbolizes so much that is precious of what men have done, but the king and his ministers are perverting it. St. George and St. Andrew were representatives of justice and righteousness. They died for principles which in their nature are eternal, which will remain, when we are gone. I have taken pride in being an Englishman. The flag thrills me. I like to think of the brave deeds that have been done under it. No other banner means so much. It stirs me to think of it as waving not only in England, but here, in Canada, in South America, and on the banks of the Ganges. Of course, the flag, the crosses upon it, signify suffering, devotion, heroism, bravery. It is these things that warm my blood."

"Go on, please, Mr. Walden. I want to hear more," said Miss Newville as he paused.

"I have delighted in being an Englishman because the flag stands for all I hold most dear, but I am conscious that my love for it is not what it was. The king and his ministers by their arbitrary acts, Parliament by pa.s.sing laws taking away chartered rights, are alienating the affections of the Colonies. We are not so meek that we are ready to kiss the hand that smites us. The time may come, Miss Newville, when the people this side the Atlantic will have a flag of their own. If we do it will be a symbol of a larger liberty than we now have. The world does not stand still. I do not know what Almighty G.o.d has been reserving this Western world for through all the ages; but it must be for some grand purpose. It is a great land and it will be peopled some day. We have made our laws in the past, and we shall not surrender our right to do so. The king and his ministers are not using the crosses of St. George and St. Andrew for the good of all.

The crosses should represent brotherhood, but they do not. I think the time may come, though, when there will be such a flag."

Again he paused, and again Miss Newville begged him to go on.

"I cannot tell when it will be, but I know what I would like to see."

"Please tell me," she said earnestly.

"I would like to see the time when men will recognize their fellow-men as brothers, and when the flag will stand for equality, unity, liberty, and brotherhood."

"Do you think such a time will ever come?"

"I do not doubt it. The prophets in the Bible have predicted it, and it seems to me that the human race is advancing in that direction.

Have you not noticed that almost everything we prize has come through sacrifice and suffering? I came here with food because the people of this town are suffering. The bags of corn which I have brought are an expression of brotherhood, of unity, love, and good will. The people all the way from the Pen.o.bscot to the Savannah are acting from such motives. It is curious that Parliament by pa.s.sing a wicked law is uniting the Colonies as nothing else could have done. What the king designed for a punishment, in the end may be a great blessing."

"I see it, and I want to thank you, Mr. Walden, for your words. You have made clear what hitherto I have not been able to understand. Of course, you must be aware that I hear many conversations upon affairs in the Colonies. General Gage and Earl Percy are frequent guests in our home, as are many gentlemen who sympathize with the king and the ministry rather than with Mr. Adams and Doctor Warren. I do not see how the king, who they say is kind-hearted, could a.s.sent to a law which would bring suffering and starvation to so many people."

She sat in silence a moment, and then went on.

"I like to hear you, Mr. Walden, speak of that good time that is to come. I should like to do something to hasten it. I feel that I am stronger for what you have said. Shall we take a stroll through the grounds?"

Through the day he had been looking forward to a possible hour when he could be with her alone, to feel the charm of her presence. And now that it had come, what should he say, how let her know she had been an inspiration to him; how since their first meeting his last thought at night and the first of the morning had been of her? Were he to say the thought of her had filled the days with happiness, would she not think him presumptuous? They were widely separated by the circ.u.mstances of life,--he of the country, a farmer, swinging the scythe, holding the plow, driving oxen, feeding pigs; she, on the contrary, was a star in cultured society, entertaining high-born ladies and gentlemen, lords, earls, and governors; chance, only, had made them acquainted. She had been very kind. No, he must not presume upon her graciousness and tell her that his heart had gone out to her in a wonderful way. Many men had proffered their love, but had been rejected. It was blessedness unspeakable to be permitted to walk by her side, to hear her voice, to enjoy her esteem, friendship, and confidence.

The song-birds of summer had gone, but the crickets were merrily chirping around them; flowers were fading, but fruits were ripening.

Slowly they walked the winding paths, stopping at times to gaze upon the clouds, silver-lined, in the bright light of the full-orbed moon.

"I shall not soon forget this quiet evening with you, Mr. Walden, nor the words you have spoken. I have thought it was my foreboding, but now I can see that there may be trying times before us,--times which will test friendships."

"I trust, Miss Newville, that I may ever be worthy to be numbered among your friends."

"I know you will." After a moment's hesitation she added, "The time may come when I shall need your friendship."

Her voice was tremulous. The nine o'clock bell was ringing. They were by the gate leading to the street.

"You go home to-morrow. Will it be long before we shall see you again?

I may want such strength as you can give," she said.

"I trust that in G.o.d's good time we may meet again. How soon I may be here or what may bring me I do not foresee; but be a.s.sured, Miss Newville, I shall ever be your friend."

"I do not doubt it. Good-by," she said.

She heard his retreating footsteps growing fainter.

"Oh, if he had only said, 'I love you,'" the whisper on her lips.

"I could die for her; no, I'll live for her," he said to himself, as he walked towards the Brandon home.

XV.

THE MIDNIGHT RIDE.

Abel Shrimpton, loyal to the king, hated Samuel Adams and John Hanc.o.c.k and the Sons of Liberty, holding them responsible for the troubles that had come to the people. In Mr. Shrimpton's attractive home, made beautiful by the presence of his daughter, Tom Brandon had been a welcome visitor, but the relations between Mr. Shrimpton and Tom were changing.

"The Regulation Act," said Tom, "which in fact makes the king the government, deprives the people of their liberties."

"People who abuse their liberties ought to be deprived of them," Mr.

Shrimpton replied.

"We are not allowed to select jurors. The law takes away our right to a.s.semble in town meeting, except by permission, and then we can only elect selectmen to look after town affairs," said Tom.

"The people have shown they are not fit to govern themselves," said Mr. Shrimpton. "They allow the mob to run riot. It was a mob that smashed Chief Justice Hutchinson's windows. Your gatherings under the Liberty Tree are in reality nothing but mobs; you have no legal authority for a.s.sembling. It was a mob that a.s.saulted the king's troops on the 5th of March; a mob threw the tea into the harbor, and I strongly suspect that Tom Brandon had a hand in that iniquity. The king stands for law and order. The troops are here in the interest of good government, by const.i.tuted authority, to enforce the law and put down riots."

"Just who had a hand in throwing the tea overboard no one can find out, but I am glad it was done," said Tom.

"So you uphold lawlessness, Mr. Brandon?"

"I stand against the unrighteous acts of Parliament. We will not be slaves; we will not be deprived of our liberties. If King George and Lord North think they can starve the people of this town into submission, they will find themselves mistaken," said Tom.

"I hope he will compel every one of you to obey the laws, and that whoever had a hand in destroying the tea will suffer for it," Mr.

Shrimpton replied.