"Oh, but honey!" Mammy's voice sank to a whisper, and she looked around as if in fear of being overheard, "dat Mars' Lion, he bound to fight de Britishers toof and nail, but his pappy, Mars' Perc'val, he's for totin'

him right back to Inglan, but Mars' Lion, he won't be toted. He say dis yere's his own country whar he wor born'd and here he sh.e.l.l stay.

"Mistis Gab'rell, she cry and try to make him promise to keep quiet, and dat Mis' Ros'mand she act like she own him soul and body. Mars'

Perc'val, he say he's sorry he let him come home, but lordy ma.s.sy! dat chile would 'a' comed lett'n' or no lett'n'.

"But you see, de fac' is, dat boy chuck full o' fight. I tell ole Uncle Gambo dar must be somesin in dis yere soil dat make de chillern love it and stan' up fo' it and fight fo' it."

"I'd fight for it, too, if I was a young man," said Maid Sally.

"_Would_ you, now!" exclaimed Mammy. "Well, I reckon de day is near when all who wants to fight will have de chance. Now I must go travellin'

home. I'm goin' to make a plum jam betty fo' my young mars' supper, and no knowin' how long his ole Mammy can cook fo' him, he so done set on fightin'."

As Mammy rolled away, Sally said to herself:

"I wonder why she tells me these things? I never ask her questions."

Her Fairy answered: "It is because those people are simple and confiding in one way, and in another way are sharper than you think. All the world likes sympathy, which is a kindly feeling toward others, and a willingness to listen to what is in their hearts. And Mammy sees that you pay attention to what she says, and it pleases her."

"I must be careful," said Maid Sally.

"You have need to be," warned her Fairy.

The days grew more full of excitement. There were whisperings, hot speeches, and murmurings on every side.

But in the midst of the boil and trouble Sir Percival Grandison, and a few others, determined to give a ball in the Hall of Burgesses in hopes to break in upon the stormy feelings that were abroad, and perhaps bring about a more peaceful state of things.

The seat of government had been in Williamsburg until that fall of 1774. Then it was removed to Philadelphia.

There had been a splendid ball given in May, in honor of the wife and daughter of the governor, Lord Dunmore. And although the people neither liked nor respected the haughty, wilful governor, it yet was thought a proper thing to welcome with a gay gathering the ladies who had come to live at the "Governor's Palace," as his home was called.

Now the Hall of Burgesses was to see another brilliant affair, when people of rank and fashion would come together for a merry night, and Sir Percival secretly trusted that it might tone down the war spirit in his young son.

Maid Sally cast about in her mind, wondering if she could possibly get a peep at the splendid scene, for ah, what delight it would be to look upon it, if only for a moment!

"It will be a brave sight," said her Fairy, "but it may stir feelings in your soul it were better should be at rest."

"No matter for that," said beauty-loving Sally, "I must see it if I can."

Yet how could she bring it about? The church beadle, the dread man who went about, and, staff in hand, kept all younglings quiet in the meeting-house, the town-crier, who went up and down the roads and with a great bell in hand found a lost child or told unusual news, the constable and his two a.s.sistants, all these would be about the doors of the building so that the many coaches could drive up without confusion, and none but invited guests would dare to come too near.

Children and upper cla.s.s servants might gaze on at a distance, but no hangers-on would be permitted on that side of the road.

Up came Sally's will. Her strong, bright will.

"I mean to find some way to see it," she said, "but not by doing anything of which to be ashamed."

"Then set your wits to work," said her Fairy, "for wits you will need to bring that about."

And Maid Sally thought of a plan.

CHAPTER XV.

A COLONIAL BALL

The next Wednesday evening, after singing-school, Maid Sally said to Master Sutcliff, with many a blush and a queer quaking of the voice:

"I have a great desire to see something of the fine ball, but there appeareth no way for me to do it."

Master Sutcliff laughed at the courage as well as the frightened, anxious face of the maid. He next looked thoughtful for a s.p.a.ce, and then said, with nods and bows that made Sally's heart leap:

"I play the violin for the company, and must needs have rosin at hand in case a string getteth obstinate. And it might beseem me to have some one nigh to hand me music in the order it must be played."

"Oh, but I can't be seen," cried Maid Sally.

"No more you need, young maid. Many fiddlers will be there, and you can have a low seat, even on a cricket hard by the ba.s.s viol, and though the players will be on a high platform, you can hide for a little while behind the big instrument and have a good peep at it all."

"How can I get in?" asked Sally.

"You can enter under the shadow of my wing," said Master Sutcliff, "but not long had you best remain. At first no one would notice you, but it might not be easy for you to long hide entirely: we change places once in a while."

"I will go the moment I am bid," said the maiden.

In very truth all the bliss of Fairy Land opened up to Sally the next night.

Never before had the maiden had an idea of the glamour, the bewitchment, the splendor of such a scene.

The costumes, or dresses, the dancing, and courtly manners,--the manners of those who are about the court of a king,--the music that thrilled and charmed her, sending all kinds of bright and airy dreams through her mind, all these sent the blood rushing swiftly through the veins of the delighted maid as, spell-bound, she peered from behind the great ba.s.s viol.

"Oh, it is heaven, heaven!" she panted, as with great starry eyes she looked down upon the splendid company. "And I, I could so enjoy it all, had I only been born to it! Was I born to it? Oh, no, no, it could not be!"

"Who knows?" faintly asked her Fairy.

But Sally spent not much time in asking longing questions. The room seemed filled with the odor of musk, attar of roses, and cologne, flowers, and perfumes of many kinds.

There was the governor, brilliant as a king, in purple velvet coat, gold lace, a white, flowered waistcoat with great frills of costly lace adown the front and falling over his white hands.

Shining knee-buckles flashed back the light from hundreds of candles, which caught also the light from gleaming stones in the buckles of his high-heeled shoes. A man of fancy-fine appearance, but looked upon with eyes that loved him not, but rather despised him.

The ladies were like Fairy dreams, in stiff, brocaded-silks, sheeny satins, ribbons, lace, jewels, and necklaces of gold, amber, and medallions--round stones with faces cut on them.

With dazzled eyes, Sally gazed upon the courtlike appearance of Sir Percival Grandison, his wife, daughter, and niece. But her eyes lingered long on the Lady Rosamond Earlscourt.

Never in her brightest visions had the poor maid watching from the platform beheld such radiance. The powdered hair was cushioned high on her head, and held between the puffs were white plumes and glossy leaves, joined in loops of small gilt chains.