"Oh, Captain McLane, can't you stay?" beseeched Janice.

"Do not leave us unprotected. I can't tell you what we have suffered through thought of possible violence, and even now--"

[Ill.u.s.tration: "Victory!"]

"I will station a trooper at the door," the officer promised; "but have no fear. Already patrols are established, and within an hour broadsides will be posted about the city warning all plunderers or other law-breakers that they will be shot or hanged on sight. General Arnold, who is given command of the city, intends there shall be no disturbance, and he is not the man to have his orders broke."

Set at ease as to their safety, the first concern of the women was a hastily improvised breakfast from the scantily supplied larder which Clowes' servants had abandoned to them. In the kitchen, as well as all over the house, they found ample signs that pilferers had been at work, for every receptacle had been thrown open, drawers dragged out, and the floor littered with whatever the despoilers elected not to take. A month before Janice would probably have been moved to tears at the discovery that her "elegant and dashy robing," as well as her Mischianza costume, had been stolen, but now she scarcely gave either of them a thought, so grateful was she merely to feel that they were safe from violence and insult.

In reinstating her own meagre possessions in their proper receptacles, which was the girls after-breakfast occupation, she came upon an unfinished silk purse, and this served to bring an end for a time to the restoration of order, while she sat upon the floor in a meditative att.i.tude. Presently she laid it on the bureau with a little sigh and returned to her task. Once this was completed, she again took the purse, and seating herself, set about its completion.

Afraid to stir out of doors, and with little to occupy her. the next three days served to complete the trifle, elaborate and complicated as the pattern was. Meantime, a steady stream of Whigs flooded into the city, and from Captain McLane, who twice dropped in to make sure of their well-being, they learned that the Continental Congress was about to resume its sessions in the city. Ocular proof that the rulers of America were a.s.sembling was very quickly brought home to the two, for one morning Janice, answering a rap of the knocker, opened the door to the Honourable Joseph Bagby.

"Well, miss. I guess you 're not sorry to see an old friend's face, are you. now that the dandiprat redcoats you've been gallivanting with have shown that they prefer running away to fighting?" was his greeting, as he held out his hand.

Janice, divided in mind by the recollection of his treatment of them and by her fear of the future, extended her own and allowed it to be shaken, as the easiest means of escaping the still more difficult verbal response.

"Are n't you going to ask me in?" inquired the caller, "for I've got something to say."

"I did n't know that you would want to," faltered Janice, making entrance for him. "Mommy will be gla--will be in the parlour," she said, leading the way to that room.

Without circ.u.mlocution, Bagby went at the object of his call the moment the equally embarra.s.sing meeting with Mrs. Meredith was over.

"I came up to town," he announced," to 'tend Congress, of which I'm now a member;" and here the speaker paused as if to let the new dignity come home to his hearers. "Did n't I tell you I was a rising man? But I had another object in view in being so prompt, and that was to have a talk with you to see if we can 't arrange things. 'T is n't given to every girl to marry a Congressman, eh, miss?"

"I--I--suppose not," stammered Janice, frightened, yet with an intense desire to laugh.

"Before I say anything as to that," went on Bagby, "I want to tell you that I've been a good friend of yours. Old Hennion, who 's come out hating your dad the worst way, was for introducing a bill in a.s.sembly last session declaring his lands forfeited, but I told him I'd not have it."

"'T is but a duty man owes to prevent evil deeds," said Mrs.

Meredith.

"We are very grateful, Mr. Bagby," Janice thought it was necessary to add, with not a little surprise in her voice.

"That's what I guessed you'd be," said the legislator.

"Says I to myself, 'They've made a mistake as to the side they took but when they see that the British is beat, they'll do most anything to put themselves right again and save their property.' Now, if Miss Janice will marry me, there is n't any reason why you should n't all come back to Greenwood and live as fine as a fivepence."

"We should not be willing to give thee our daughter, Mr.

Bagby, even were she."

"But I am--for the compliment you offer, sir, I thank you,"

interjected Janice.

"Now, you just listen to reason," protested Joe. "You must n't think it 's only the property I'm set on. I've made a swipe of money in the last year--nigh forty thousand dollars-- Continental--so I can afford to marry whom I like; and though I own that thirty thousand acres is no smouch of land, yet I'm really soft on Miss Janice, and would marry her even if she had n't money, now that I've got some of my own."

"It can make no difference, Mr. Bagby," replied the mother.

"Neither her father nor I would consent to her wedding thee, and I know her wishes accord with ours."

Joe, with a somewhat bewildered face and a decidedly awkward movement, picked up his hat. "It don't seem possible,"

he said, "that you'll throw away all that property; for, of course, I'm not going to stand between you and old Hennion when you show yourselves so unfriendly."

"'T is in the hands of One who knows best."

Bagby went to the door. "The a.s.sembly meets on the twenty-eighth," he remarked, "and I promised some of the members I'd quit Congress to 'tend the early part of the session, so I've got to go back to Trenton in three days. If you change your mind before then, let me know."

"Oh, mommy," groaned the girl the moment the door closed, "I wish there were no such things in the world as lovers!"

Then she told a yet greater untruth: "Or would that I had been born as plain as Tibbie's aunt!"

"'T is ingrat.i.tude to speak thus, child. Hast already forgot the help Philemon tried to give us, and what we owe to Colonel Brereton?"

The girl made no response for a little, then said hurriedly, "Mommy, dost think dadda, and wouldst thou wish me to wed Colonel Brereton, provided 't would save us our lands and let us live in peace at Greenwood?"

"I know not what to say, Janice. It would be a deliverance, indeed, from a future black with doubt and trouble; but thy father holds to his promise to Philemon, and I question if he'd ever consent to have a rebel for a son-in-law. Nor do we know that Colonel Brereton was not but speaking in jest when he said what he did at Greenwood."

"He meant it, mommy," answered the daughter, "for--for at grave risk he stole into Philadelphia last April to see me; and then he vowed he could save us from the Whigs if--if--"

"And wouldst thou wed him willingly?" asked the mother, when Janice lapsed into silence with the sentence unfinished.

With eyes on the floor and cheeks all aflame, the girl answered: "I--I scarce know, mommy. At times when I am with him I feel dreadfully excited and frightened--though never in the way I am with Lord Clowes--and want to get away; but the moment he is gone I--I wish him back, if only he would do but what I'd have him--and yet I like him for-- for having his own way--as he always does--though I know he'd do mine if--if I asked him."

"Janice, canst thou not speak less lightly and foolishly?"

chided Mrs. Meredith. "If thou lovest the man, say so without such silly maunderings, which are most unbefitting of thy years."

"But I--I don't love Colonel Brereton, mommy," protested the girl; "and I never could, after his--after knowing that he once gave his love to that--"

"And art thou so foolish, Janice," demanded her mother, "as to pretend that thou dost not care for him?"

"Really it--it would only be for you and dadda, and to save the property, mommy," persisted Janice.

"Then why didst thou draw back from Lord Clowes and Bagby?" asked the mother, sternly.

"But I--I could never have--have--Oh, mommy, there is a cart just stopped at the door, and I'll see what is wanted,-- an excuse conveniently present for the fl.u.s.tered maiden to escape an explanation.

As it proved, the arrival of the cart was of very material moment, for by the time Janice was at the door a lean-visaged woman had been helped from it, and her salutation was anything but promising.

"Who are you. that you are in my house?" she demanded, and then entered the hall, and, womanlike, would not listen to the explanations that both Janice and her mother sought to make. "Be off with you at once!" she ordered. "I'll not have you here a minute. My son died of fever and starvation in a freezing prison last winter while you made free of his mother's home not a half-mile away. Be thankful I don't have you arrested for the rent, or hound the people into treating you Tory snakes as you deserve. No, you shall not stay to get your clothes; into the street I'll bundle them when I have got them together, and there you'll find them. Out with you!"

Janice was for obeying, but Mrs. Meredith refused positively to leave without packing. Hastily their scanty belongings were bestowed in the two little leathern trunks they had brought originally from Greenwood; these they dragged to the porch, and, sitting upon them, held debate as to their next step.

Ere they had been able to hit upon some escape from the nonplus, their attention was distracted by a rabble of men, women, and boys, who suddenly swept around a corner and flooded down the street toward them. With a premonition of coming evil, Janice sprang to the knocker, and rapped desperately, but their evictor paid no attention to the appeal. In a moment the mob, which numbered not less than a thousand people, reached the steps, hissing, hooting. and caterwauling, and from the din rose such cries as: "Tory, Tory!" "Turn-coats!"

"Where are the b.l.o.o.d.y-backs?" "Ain't we draggle-tails now?"

"Order!" shouted a man in a cart pulled by some of the crowd, for which a way was made by all so that it could be wheeled up to the sidewalk opposite where the two women, holding each other's hands, were despairingly facing the crowd.

"Remember, I pa.s.sed my oath to General Arnold that there 'ud be no violence; an' if we don't keep it, the troops will be down on us. an' some on you will spend a night in the guard-house"

"Hooray!" cheered some one, and the ma.s.s echoed the cry.

The spokesman turned to the Merediths. "We know'd the Fourth o' July ain't no joyous day to you-alls, so we've done our bestest to keep you from thinkin' of it by bringin' some one to call on you. Ain't you glad to see again your old friend, Miss Shy Anna?"