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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/77860-0.txt b/77860-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..06dcbf5 --- /dev/null +++ b/77860-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,4065 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 77860 *** + +Transcriber's notes: Unusual and inconsistent spelling is as printed. + +New original cover art included with this eBook is granted to the +public domain. + + + + THE + + STORY OF A HESSIAN. + + + A TALE OF THE + + REVOLUTION IN NEW JERSEY + + + BY + + LUCY ELLEN GUERNSEY + + AUTHOR OF + + "IRISH AMY," "THE HEIRESS OF McGREGOR," + "GRANDMOTHER BROWN," ETC. + + + ————————— + + + PHILADELPHIA: + AMERICAN SUNDAY-SCHOOL UNION + NO. 1122 CHESTNUT STREET. + —————————— + + + + ———————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————— + + Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1877, by the + + AMERICAN SUNDAY-SCHOOL UNION + + In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. + + ———————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————— + + + + ————————————————— ———————————————— + WESCOTT & THOMSON HENRY B. ASHMEAD + Stereotypers and Electrotypers, Philada. Printer, Philada. + + + + CONTENTS. + + —————— + + CHAPTER I. + + A WOLF-HUNT + + CHAPTER II. + + IN THE CHURCHYARD + + CHAPTER III. + + THE COUNT'S VISIT + + CHAPTER IV. + + THE MISCHIANZA + + CHAPTER V. + + A DOOR OPENED + + CHAPTER VI. + + THE BEAR + + CHAPTER VII. + + NEW FRIENDS AND NEW FOES + + CHAPTER VIII. + + NEWS AND PLANS + + CHAPTER IX. + + NONNENWALD + + CHAPTER X. + + CONCLUSION + + + + THE + + STORY OF A HESSIAN. + + —————————— + +CHAPTER I. + +_A WOLF-HUNT._ + +ON a certain bright October morning, in the year 1779, a gay train set +out from the princely hunting-lodge of Nonnenwald. This lodge was built +under the shadow of an outlying spire of the great Thuringerwald, a +range of mountains to the south-east of the dominions of the prince to +whom it belonged. It was, in fact, a small Schloss or castle, a part +of which was quite ruinous and overgrown with ivy and brambles. This +part of the building was made of dark stone taken from a quarry near +at hand. A couple of its towers were in good preservation, and showed +signs of being inhabited, while a two-story wing, evidently quite new +and built of brick, looked awkward and uncomfortable beside its sombre +old neighbour. Even with this addition, the lodge would accommodate +very few people—a circumstance which made it something of a favourite +with its owner. The lodge of Nonnenwald belonged to the hereditary +prince or landgrave of Hesse-Cassel, and he liked now and then to +escape to it from the splendours of his magnificent court, to indulge +in the pursuits of hunting and fishing in company with a few special +friends. + +The Thuringerwald swarmed with every species of game. Wild boars +abounded, and there was a somewhat mythical story that the great wild +bull of Europe—the urus—was still to be met in its deeper recesses. +Wildcats, bears, and lynxes, made their homes on the rocky ledges, +and the great gray wolves ran down the deer and boars, and now and +then made an incursion into the cultivated country. Such an incursion +had just taken place, early as it was in the year, and many cattle +and sheep had been destroyed in the fields about Nonnenwald. Nay, the +animals had entered the village itself, and had killed a calf belonging +to Gertrude Reinhart, who lived in the little stone house near the +churchyard where was the deserted blacksmith's forge. It was the report +of this incursion which had brought down the prince and his train, and +a fine week's sport was in anticipation. + +As the gay train, with the prince in the midst, wound their way through +the street of the little village, it was met by a train of a very +different description arriving from the opposite direction. First +came the Lutheran pastor of the little church in his gown, then time +coffin—a child's coffin decked with a wreath of everlasting flowers and +carried on a bier. Then came the mourning family, the mother leaning on +the arm of a tall gray-haired man and leading a little boy by the hand. +A boy of about fifteen, and a girl somewhat younger, followed hand in +hand, and a few neighbours brought up the rear. They came slowly up the +hill, giving the hunting-train plenty of time to halt and draw up to +the side of the road near the church, which they did with some trouble, +for the horses were very restive and unmanageable, and the great +wolf-hounds bayed and howled and strained furiously at their slips, as +if they already scented their savage game. + +"A bad omen for our chase," said a young gentleman who rode near the +prince. + +The prince frowned. He had just been thinking the same thing, but it +did not please him to have the thought put into words. He made the sign +of the cross. It was a new accomplishment, and he was rather proud of +it. + +"Sancta Maria, ora pro nobis!" said he, piously. And then he frowned +again, for he thought he saw a glance of derision pass between his two +young cousins, Victor and Maurice of Nassau. "Whose is the funeral, +Franz?" + +"'Tis the youngest son of Gertrude Reinhart—the woman whose calf was +killed the other night," answered Franz the huntsman, a man who had +grown gray in the service of the landgrave and his father. "The lad was +an innocent—a witless child," he added. "He crept out at evening to see +the new calf, and the wolves fell upon the poor creature and killed it +before his eyes. They would have done the same by him, but the poor +innocent had sense enough to climb upon the roof of the forge, or else +the angels set him there. Who knows?" + +"Angels do not interfere for the salvation of heretics, my good Franz," +said the prince, pompously. + +"Humph!" answered Franz, with little respect, as it seemed, either for +the speech or the speaker. "Anyhow, he was found on the roof." + +"But the angels could not have put him there; do you think so, my +father?" he asked, turning to a dark gentleman who rode at his left +hand. + +"I understand that the lad was an innocent, or witless child," answered +the priest, gravely, though with a little twinkle in his eye; "in which +case such an interference might have taken place." + +"Go on, Franz," said the prince. "What was the end of the matter?" + +"The end was that the villagers heard the noise and turned out with +what arms they had, and Hans and myself came down with the dogs and +drove the brutes away," answered Franz. "The poor lad was not hurt, but +so frightened that he never held up his head again. It is a sore blow +to poor Gertrude, who was bound up in him." + +"Why, he could never be anything but an encumbrance to her; he would +never have earned his own living," said the prince. "She ought to be +thankful to be rid of such a trouble." + +The prince did not mean to be hard-hearted, but he was rather stupid +and ignorant even for a German prince of that time, and he really +thought so. + +"I fancy women are not often glad to part with their children," said +the priest, gravely, "and I have observed that they cling most to those +who most need their care." + +"Here they come," said Count Maurice, and as the little funeral train +reached the place where the riders had drawn up, he took off his hat. + +The other gentlemen did the same, and even the prince raised his +beaver, almost, as it seemed, against his will. + +"Poor woman! What a tragedy is in her face!" observed Count Maurice, in +an undertone, to his next neighbour. "Is she a widow, I wonder?" + +"She might as well be," answered old Franz, on hearing the question. +"Her husband is in America, and she has heard no word from him for +three long years. Poor Gertrude was one of the fairest and sweetest +matrons in all the Thuringerwald, but she is sadly changed, poor thing." + +"I dare say. Do you know her, then?" + +"She is my grand-niece." + +"And did her husband go against her will?" + +"I fancy nobody waited to find out what her will was, or his, either," +answered the old man, dryly. "He had no time even to bid farewell to +his family." + +The prince moved uneasily on his horse as he overheard the words. + +"Who is the man on whose arms the woman leans?" he asked. "I have never +seen him before." + +"He does not live about here, though he is a not unfrequent visitor," +said Franz. "He is one of the Moravian ministers from Herrnhut, and +goes about the country teaching and preaching where he pleases. The +folks look on him as a prophet or saint. They call him the consoler, +and say he is sure to turn up where there is any great grief or +trouble." + +"Well, gentlemen, we may as well ride on," said the prince. + +He would have infinitely preferred to return home, only he was afraid +of being laughed at for his superstition. Not that any one (unless +it might be Count Maurice) would have ventured to do so to his face, +but he knew very well they would not hesitate behind his back. He was +especially jealous of his two young visitors, the counts Victor and +Maurice of Nassau, who had been much at the court of Frederick the +Great, and were believed to be infected by the new French philosophy. +He made the sign of the cross again—rather awkwardly, for he never +could remember where to begin—and the train moved on. + +The funeral was over, and the neighbours who had lingered at the stone +cottage ceased their well-meant attempts at consolation and went their +way home. Gertrude Reinhart had gone through the funeral services +with dry eyes and compressed lips. She had not shed a tear since her +boy died. With the same outwardly composed face she was engaged in +preparing supper for her children, when she was disturbed by a knock at +the door. With a movement of impatience she opened it. There stood the +priest whom we saw in the morning, and at some little distance behind +him the young count Maurice. + +"You are the widow Reinhart, whose son was buried this morning?" said +the priest, kindly. + +"I am Gertrude Reinhart, whose son was buried this morning," answered +Gertrude, briefly, for she was in no mood for ceremony. "Whether I am a +widow or not, Heaven only knows. What is your business with me? It must +needs be pressing, since you disturb with it the house of mourning." + +"I beg your pardon," answered the priest, gently. "I understood you +were a widow. Forgive me if I have hurt you. My errand is to bring you +this money from His Serene Highness, who was witness of your trouble +this morning and desires to help you." + +Gertrude's cheek flushed and her eyes blazed with sudden fire. + +"Go back to him who sent you and tell him from me that his money may +perish with him," she cried. "Shall I take the price of my husband's +blood from my husband's murderer?" She seemed about to say more, but +checked herself, and turning away busied herself once more in her +household work. + +The priest remained standing a moment, as if uncertain what to do, when +Gertrude again turned toward him with a somewhat softened expression. + +"I am wrong, reverend sir," said she. "Doubtless you mean kindly, and +I thank you, but I can take no gold from the prince—not if I and mine +were starving. I cannot take it from one who sent my husband and the +father of my children to perish in the forests or murdered in cold +blood by the cruel, bloodthirsty Americans." + +"Nay, there you are wrong, my poor soul!" said Count Maurice, who had +caught Gertrude's words. "Let me comfort you, then. The Americans are +not cruel to their prisoners, but treat them with great kindness and +humanity. I was myself in America for a year at the beginning of the +war, and know what I say to be true." + +"In America did you say, sir?" exclaimed the little seven-year-old +Gustaf Reinhart, pulling away his hand from his sister's and springing +forward. "Oh, did Your Highness know my father? He has gone to America, +and we have never heard from him since. Did you know my dear father? +Oh, say that he is alive, and I will show you where to find the +prettiest crystals in all the Thuringerwald and will give you my tame +sparrow-hawk." + +The young soldier's proud moustache quivered a little, and he seemed +to have some trouble in finding his voice to answer, as he stroked the +little fair head of the child who was looking so anxiously up into his +face. + +"My dear little boy, I did not know your father from a thousand +others," said he, kindly. "I was only a short time in the army before +I was called home, but this much I can tell you: The Americans are +white people and Christians like ourselves, and, as I said, treat their +prisoners with kindness. The stories which were told of their putting +all the Hessians to death were groundless fabrications." + +"I thought they were all wild savages," said Gustaf. + +"There are plenty of savages, and wild enough," answered Count Maurice. +"They are, indeed, more cruel and bloodthirsty than so many wolves; +but they are not fighting against the British, but for them, more +is the shame for those who let them loose on the helpless women and +children.—But I pray you take comfort, dame," he added, turning once +more to Gertrude. "Your husband may be killed like another, but, again, +he may escape as well as another; and as I said, if he falls into the +hands of the Americans, he will be well treated. Nay, he may perhaps +return before long, since I have heard that the war is likely soon +to come to an end. There, now! I have made you cry, when I meant to +comfort you," said the count, with a young man's natural dismay, as +Gertrude burst into a passion of tears. "Oh how sorry I am!" + +"You have done her all the good in the world," said the more +experienced priest, drawing the young man away. "The people tell me +that she has never shed one tear in all her troubles. She will weep the +burden from her heart, and sleep to-night in peace. 'Tis a pity the +poor soul is a heretic. She might else find comfort in the offices of +the Church." + +"Like our royal host," said Count Maurice, with a shrug of his +shoulders and as much of a sneer as his amiable face was capable of. +"It is to be hoped he will spend some of the money he got of the king +of England for these same offices for the benefit of his soldiers +killed in America." + +"For heretics?" asked the priest, apparently more amused than shocked +at his companion's remark. + +"When people send heretics to war, it seems to me that they should pay +the damage," answered Count Maurice, lightly; and then, in a graver +tone, "Say what we may, this selling of one's own subjects to be +butchered for money is a horrible business." + +"I agree with you there." + +"Then you won't report the poor woman's wild words to His Serene +Highness?" said Count Maurice, rather anxiously. + +"Not I," answered the priest, with some emphasis, "nor yours, either." + +"Oh, as to that, my princely cousin knows my mind on the subject. We +all but quarrelled on the point some years ago; and only to please my +father, I should not be here now. But as the prince's confessor—" + +"I am not his confessor," interrupted the priest; "and if I were, +confessors are not all-powerful. I shall do nothing to injure yonder +poor soul, you may be sure. But what to do with this money. I dare not +return it lest he should ask questions. I believe the best way will be +to give it to some religious house to pray for the soul of the poor +innocent who was buried to-day." + +"And much good that will do him!" thought Count Maurice. But he had +too much real respect for his companion to treat his opinions with +contempt, however far they might be from his own, and the two walked +back to the lodge in silence. + + + +CHAPTER II. + +_IN THE CHURCHYARD._ + +THOSE of my readers who have read any history of the American +Revolution are familiar with the fact that George III., at that time +king of England, hired many German soldiers to help fight his battles, +and that these soldiers were usually known as Hessians. These men +were not always or often enlisted of their own free will. They were +simply hired, or rather bought, at so much a head from their native +sovereigns, the princes of the smaller German states. + +The princes or landgraves of Hesse had the honour of originating this +profitable line of business in the person of Landgrave William V., who +fought on the Swedish side under the great Gustavus during the Thirty +Years' War, and got himself into very hot water with his superiors of +the German empire. William VIII., father of Frederick II., lent his +forces to the British during what is known as the "Seven Years' War," +thereby enriching his purse and impoverishing his dominions to a great +extent. William, indeed, always fought with his own men, exposed to +much the same hardships and dangers, and won honour as a brave and +skilful soldier. + +But Landgrave Frederick had no notion of running any such foolish +risks. He liked his ease too well—his hunting-expeditions and +concert-rooms and collections of pictures and other elegant amusements. +Moreover, he was very busy learning a new religion. Ever since the +days of his ancestor Philip I., surnamed the Generous, who came to +the throne in 1509, Hesse-Cassel and its dependencies had been mostly +Protestant. But Frederick took it into his wise head to become a Roman +Catholic, and a very devout one, though it is but just to say that +he never interfered with the religion of his subjects. So he stayed +quietly at home and patronized art, while thousands of his subjects, +farmers, labourers, artisans, miners, and so forth, the best of the +nation, were carried away across the seas to fight for a people they +did not know against a people who had done them no harm. + +If the men had gone with their own consent, it would not have been so +bad, but in many cases they had been kidnapped—carried off from their +farms and workshops, from market and church, without being allowed +to set their affairs in order or bid their families farewell. Three +millions of pounds—seven pounds four and fourpence for each man, and +as much more for every one killed—did the landgrave receive from the +British king. He spent the money, as I have said, in keeping up a +splendid court, but meantime in many places the fields lay unfilled +because there were none but boys and old men to plough them; the wolves +and bears increased and grew bolder and bolder. + +The condition of the families whose heads had been taken away was of +course very pitiable. Even when, as in the case of Caspar Reinhart's +household, there was no lack of bread, there were long weeks and months +and years of slow, sickening suspense and anxiety. Many of the men +did not know how to write or had no means of writing, and those who +were able sent home reports which were anything but encouraging. It +was commonly reported among them that the American soldiers gave no +quarter, that they were more cruel and vindictive than the Indians +themselves, killing without mercy all the prisoners who fell into their +hands. These reports were no idle rumours picked up at second hand: +they were deliberate lies fabricated and circulated by the British and +German officers among their ignorant troops. The Hessians who were +taken prisoners were utterly astonished to find themselves treated with +kindness both by their captors and the people of the country. + +Caspar Reinhart had been the owner of a little farm adjoining the +village of Nonnenwald. He kept a few cows, some sheep and goats, and +cultivated some fields of rye and oats, while a warm and sheltered +corner of the domain held a flourishing orchard of apple and cherry +trees. The profits of his farm, which, with all his industry and +Gertrude's economy, were not large, were greatly increased by his trade +of blacksmith and wheelwright. Nobody could shoe a restive horse or +tame a wild and frightened colt so well in all the district, and lame +and disabled carts and wagons were brought to him from far and near. He +also possessed considerable skill as a carver; which skill he practised +by the fire in the long winter evenings, making wooden bowls and spoons +and heads for spinning-wheels, and he had made a memorial tablet to +his mother which was an ornament to the little church and the object +of admiration to all the village. But his forge was silent and falling +to pieces, his carving-tools lay hidden in the cupboard of Philip's +bedroom. Only a few sheep and two cows remained of his stock, and the +orchard was suffering for want of the master's hand, for Caspar was +away in America, and his wife had heard no word from him for three long +years. + +Gertrude remained for a moment or two standing where her visitor had +left her. The children looked on from their corner, hardly knowing +whether to be terrified or relieved by their mother's burst of weeping. +Presently she wiped her eyes and turned to them: + +"Philip and Margaret, you may go and drive up the cows and sheep, lest +the wolves should come down again. Take Gustaf with you, and do not +remain out after sunset." + +Gertrude's least word was law to the children, and without speaking a +word they hastened to obey. + +The cattle were soon secured in the strong and high enclosure near the +house made to protect them in winter. This done, Margaret, stole up +softly and peeped through the window of the cottage. + +"The mother is on her knees praying and weeping," said she, turning +with an awestruck face to her companions. "Do not let us disturb her. I +heard the good brother Gotthold say he would give a great deal to see +her weep, and so did Aunt Lisa." + +"That strange gentleman who came with the young count said the same," +observed Gustaf. "But where shall we go, Greta?" + +"The sun is not near setting," replied his sister; "let us go up to the +churchyard." + +The church of Nonnenwald stood on a little rocky eminence somewhat +apart from the village. It was a very ancient structure, and there +were ruins about it—very deep, dark vaults, grass-grown mounds, and +crumbling walls which seemed to show that the existing building had +once been part of a larger structure. There was a dim tradition that a +nunnery had once occupied the hill, which had been destroyed in some +unusual and awful manner for the wickedness of the inhabitants—some +said by an earthquake, others by a waterspout descending from the +clouds. + +Be that as it might, the scene was peaceful enough now. The sun was +sinking, and sent his rays through the branches of an old oak which +still retained many of its leaves and cast a chequered shade over the +short green turf. Most of the graves were humble grass-grown mounds, +marked, if at all, only by a rude headstone or a wooden cross, but +there were a few stone tombs and monuments, very old and moss-grown. +On one of these was a recumbent figure, but so weather-worn and +bespattered with lichen that no one could have told whether it was +meant for a man or a woman. Tradition, however, had given it the name +of the Good Lady, and averred that it had once stood in the convent +church and was miraculously spared when the rest of the structure was +destroyed. Near it was the entrance to one of those vaults of which I +have spoken—a low arch partly stopped with stones. + +The children bent their steps toward the old oak, where, under the +shelter of some nut-bushes, lay the little new-made grave. It had been +neatly covered with sods, and some kind hand had laid upon it a garland +of late flowers. + +"I wonder where Fritz is now?" said Philip, in a low voice. + +"Singing with the angels," answered little Gustaf, confidently. "I +asked Brother Gotthold last night, and he said so." + +"Then I am sure he is very happy," said Philip. "You know how he always +loved music." He was silent a minute, and then added, in a still lower +voice, "I wonder if he has found father?" + +"Father is not dead," said Margaret, abruptly; "so how should Fritz +find him?" + +Philip shook his head: + +"I wish I could think so, Greta dear. But you know how long it is since +we have heard a word—never since he sailed—" + +"What of that?" interrupted Margaret, almost harshly. "Was not Uncle +Franz away more than seven years? And had not every one given him up +for dead? Yet he came back, and father will come back—I know he will." + +"How do you know?" asked little Gustaf. "Who told you? Did Brother +Gotthold?" + +"No, but Brother Gotthold thinks he may be alive, for all that; and you +heard what the young count said last night. But that is not the reason. +I cannot tell you, but somehow or other I do know that my father is +alive, and that I shall see him again." + +Philip shook his head sadly, but he did not argue the point. + +After standing a few moments in silence, he said, suddenly, "Margaret, +do you think my mother would let me have the oak log that lies under +the shed at the forge?" + +"I dare say," answered Margaret, coming back as it were from a long +distance to answer the question. "At any rate, you can ask her. What +will you do with it?" + +"I should like to carve a cross for Fritz—a cross with a garland, like +that we saw in the churchyard at Fulda. I would make the wreath all of +lilies and spring flowers such as Fritz loved. I can see just how to do +it;" and Philip's eyes brightened. + +"And an inscription telling how he died," said Margaret. + +"No, I think not, Greta dear," answered her brother. "Why keep up such +a sad story? The darling innocent is now with the angels, as Gustaf +said, and why fix our thoughts on his painful journey?" + +"I 'will' think of it! I will 'never' forget it!" answered Margaret, +vehemently. "It is all the fault of the landgrave. It is he who killed +Fritz. If my father had not been sent away, it would never have +happened. But you, Philip, think of nothing and care for nothing but +your books and your carving. If you remembered father as I do, and how +he was carried away, you would not be so easy about the matter as you +are. It is not hard to be quiet when one does not care." + +Philip winced as if some one had hurt him. + +"You forget that I was older than you when father went away," said he, +in the gentle voice which was one of his characteristics. "True, I had +not seen him for a year, because I was with my uncle in Fulda, but I +remember him perfectly. I was not here when he went, and I never knew +exactly how it was. Did they take him from the forge?" + +"No; it was from the church," answered Margaret. "It was All Saints' +day, and all the village was in the church. The new panels which my +father had carved for the pulpit had just been put up, I remember. +Just as the pastor finished his discourse, we heard outside the tramp +of soldiers and the clash of muskets, and then the harsh voice of the +officer,— + +"'Let not a man escape!' + +"We thought, to be sure, they had come to look for some deserter or +criminal, and everybody looked about them, but there was no stranger +in the church. Just as the service was ended, the officer and some +of his men entered. I can't tell you all; it was too dreadful," said +Margaret, covering her face. "They took away every able-bodied man—even +poor Maurice, the blind widow's son. It was of no use to struggle. Hans +Webber did so. His wife was very ill and had a little baby, and he +would pot go. He snatched up a club and fought the men who came to take +him, and, Philip, they shot him down like a dog, there by the tomb of +the Good Lady. No wonder the grass has never grown there. Poor Magdalen +has been mad ever since." + +"No wonder!" said Philip, with a shudder. "Was that what made an +innocent of little Fritz?" + +"Yes, I suppose so. All the women said so." + +"And that is the reason my mother never comes to the church?" + +"She has never set her foot in the churchyard till to-day. It was the +same in other places, or worse. And all that our landgrave might have +money to keep a grand court and buy pictures and build a fine chapel +like that yonder at the Schloss, with gold crucifixes, and altar-cloths +worked in crystals and pearls, and dressed-up dolls adorned with +diamonds!" said Margaret, in a tone of bitter scorn. "Brother Gotthold +says the Americans are fighting because they will not have a king or a +prince to rule them. I hope they will succeed; and if they do, I will +go there and live some day." + +"Hush, Greta!" said Philip, looking around him. "Think if some one +should hear you!" + +"Let them hear!" + +"But the mother, sister! You would not add to her troubles? The sun +is getting very low," he added; "I think we had better be going home. +Where is Gustaf? Here he comes in a hurry. Why, child, what ails you? +You are as white as ashes." + +Gustaf caught hold of his brother and sister, and held them tight. + +"There is something in the vault by the Good Lady's tomb," said the +child, in a choked whisper—"something with glaring green eyes that +stared at me when I peeped in." + +"An owl," said Philip. "You are not afraid of an owl at this time of +day, little brother?" + +"It was not an owl," whispered the child. "It was big and dark. I could +just see it huddled in a corner, and it moved and growled fiercely like +a big dog." + +Philip and Margaret looked at each other with pale faces as the same +thought occurred to both—that one or more of the wolves who had wrought +the mischief might have taken refuge in the vaults. At that moment, +the wicket of the churchyard was opened, and the old huntsman Franz +appeared, leading one of the great wolf-hounds, of which he had a +number under his charge—immensely powerful and savage-looking dogs, +but gentle and docile enough with friends. Leo especially was an old +playmate of Philip's. + +The children sprang toward the old man with a feeling of relief. + +"What are you doing here, children?" said Franz, roughly, but not +unkindly. "It is time you were at home. These are not days when +children should be out after dark. I cannot but think the wolves have +come near the town again, for the dogs are half crazy. Look at old +Leo, how he growls and bristles. One would think he smelt them at this +moment. Gently, gently, old fellow! There are no wolves here." + +The dog struggled to free himself from his leash, and lifting up his +head made the air resound with his yells. He was answered by the +doleful braying of the other dogs in kennels at the lodge, and by the +howls of all the less aristocratic dogs of the village. The face of the +old man darkened. + +"The beasts must be at hand," said he, anxiously. "Trust old Leo never +to give tongue on a false scent. There, again! Children, hasten home as +fast as you can." + +"I believe the dog may be right, Uncle Franz," said Philip. "Gustaf saw +something in the vault yonder which frightened him." + +"It had green glaring eyes and growled," said Gustaf. "I thought it was +the wehr-wolf." + +"The dog was right," exclaimed the old man, exultingly. "Trust old Leo +for telling the truth. Hasten home, Greta; and do you, Philip, run to +the lodge and give the alarm. Tell Gaurenz—you will find him at the +kennels—that the wolves are in the churchyard. I will keep watch here +with the dog. A fine time, truly, when our very graves are not safe +from them! Take my pistol from my belt and look at the priming, boy, +before you go. They may take a fancy to bolt." + +"Do you think there can be more than one?" asked Philip as he carefully +renewed the priming of the pistol and loosened his uncle's knife in +the sheath, for both the huntsman's hands were fully occupied in +restraining the now furious dog. + +"I can't say, my boy. For aught I know, the whole pack may have slipped +down last night, after the moon set, and hidden themselves in these old +holes, ready for an onslaught to-night. They are as wise and cunning as +so many kobolds. Away with you now, and give the alarm as you go." + +Philip was the fastest runner in all Nonnenwald, and in a few minutes +he was at the lodge telling his errand, not to the huntsman, but to the +landgrave himself, who was down at the kennels looking at the dogs. In +a few minutes the churchyard, late so quiet, was a scene of the wildest +commotion. + +Franz turned out to be right in his conjecture. Not one, but the whole +pack of wolves, had taken refuge in the old vaults, no doubt with the +intention of making a midnight foray on the cattle and sheep of the +village. The unwillingness of the dogs to pass the churchyard in the +morning and their uneasiness during the day were fully explained. Five +wolves were killed in the churchyard itself, two were run down by the +dogs, and two or three made their escape. It was a memorable occasion +for the little village, and Gustaf found himself quite a hero, since, +but for his curiosity in prying into the vault, the wolves would +probably have remained undiscovered. + + +Early on the Sunday morning following the hunt, Philip was in the +churchyard. He carried in his hands some bunches and garlands of +flowers with which to deck the grave of his little brother. He smoothed +and pressed down the turf over the hillock, which had been disarranged +by the hunters, and in doing so his hand fell on something hard hidden +in the long grass by the side of his grandmother's grave. He drew it +forth. It was a gold chain, on which was suspended a jewelled locket +containing the portrait of a lady beautifully painted on ivory. The +back of the locket was enamelled with sundry heraldic devices which +Philip did not understand. He stood for a moment looking at the picture +in a kind of ecstacy, for Philip loved everything beautiful with a +real passion. Then, hearing voices, he dropped chain and locket into +his pocket, and turned again to his work as the two counts, Victor and +Maurice, entered the churchyard. + +"I must take one more look," he heard Count Maurice say, in tones of +deep regret. "I cannot bear to give it up." + +"I fear you will have to do so," answered his brother. "Doubtless both +chain and locket have been picked up by some of the boors about here. +Your best chance is to offer a reward for it, though I fear it is too +late even for that. I grieve over the loss, for it was our only good +likeness of our dear mother. Are you sure you had it on the night of +the hunt? You know Count Hanau went away the next day, and I think +he has those in his train to whose fingers such a trifle might stick +easily enough." + +"Yes, but I am quite sure that I had it.—Well, my boy, what will you +have of me?" + +For Philip had drawn near, and, hat in hand, was evidently waiting to +be spoken to. + +"Is it a locket and picture that Your Highness has lost?" asked Philip, +modestly. + +"Yes, a locket and picture of a lady. Have you heard of any such thing +being found?" + +Philip took the chain and picture from his pocket and placed it in its +owner's hand. + +"I found it just now in the grass by my brother's grave," said he. "I +thought it might belong to some one at the Schloss." + +"And what would you have done if you had not found the owner, my boy?" +asked Count Victor, for Maurice was for the moment too happy in his +recovered treasure to say a word. + +"I would have taken it to my uncle Franz the huntsman," answered +Philip; "but I am glad to have found it for His Highness, because he +was kind to my mother." + +"Kind to your mother? When?" asked Count Maurice. + +"On the day my little brother was buried," answered Philip. "You told +her that the Americans were not cruel. You made her cry, and she has +been better ever since." + +"A small matter for gratitude!" said Count Maurice. "I remember now. +Your father was a recruit. But, my boy, you have done me a great +service. This picture is very dear to me. What shall I do for you in +return?" + +"Give him a gold-piece," said Count Victor; "I dare say he would like +to spend it at the fair." + +"I do not ask any reward," said Philip, blushing; "only, if I might +make so bold—if Your Highness would condescend so far—" + +"Oh, you need not make any apologies," said Count Maurice, +good-humouredly. "My Highness is no such very grand personage if you +come to that, since my whole domain is not very much bigger than your +father's farm. But what can I do to give you pleasure?" + +"If Your Highness would come to our house again and tell my mother more +about America," answered Philip. "What you said the other night did her +so much good. Even Brother Gotthold has never been in America, though +he is going some day. If Your Highness would but visit us again—" + +"I will certainly do so, and that very soon," said Count Maurice. +"Meanwhile, do me the favour to spend this gold-piece for anything +you may fancy. Nay, you must not refuse. That is not gracious.—The +youngster has an independent spirit," he observed to his brother as +they turned away and left the churchyard. + +"There are plenty more like him," answered Count Victor. "The spirit +of independence is in the very air nowadays; and if it is so now, +how do you think it will be when the men come home from America? Our +countrymen are not all blockheads. They will learn what the Americans +are fighting about." + +"A good many will not come back," observed count Maurice. "They are +deserting by hundreds at a time, I hear, and the country-people are +kind to them and afford them shelter and food." + +"And small blame to them! Who would not do the same, treated as these +poor villagers have been? For my part, I would like to emigrate to +America myself, settle on a farm in the wilderness, and follow the laws +of Nature among her savage children." + +"Or have the laws of Nature follow you in the shape of a sound ague or +a country fever," said Count Maurice, laughing, "or perhaps furnish a +spectacle to her savage children in their own peculiar manner." + +"As well that as the aimless life one lives now—a slave to court +formalities and royal etiquette, or, at the best, dancing attendance on +old Fritz and observing his humours." + +"I would rather be a slave to court formalities than to a Mohawk +Indian," said Count Maurice. + +"You are not like me, Maurice," said Count Victor. "These things pass +lightly over you. You take the good and leave the evil. I wish I had +been made like you—or rather, I wish I had never been born at all," +said the young man, bitterly. + +"And what would become of me without you, my poor Victor, my other +self?" said Maurice, pressing his brother's arm. "Remember, I have had +no such crushing sorrow as yours. I wish I could comfort you." + +"There is no comfort—none—either in heaven or on earth," said Victor, +passionately. "Nothing can ever give me back my Emma or undo the wrong +which this horrible royal punctilio has done us both." + +"Yet Emma herself found comfort," observed Maurice. + +"Emma was a believer," answered his brother. "Maurice, I would cut +off my right hand before I would say a word to shake the faith of a +child in the Christian religion. Those who do so are like a man who +should rob another in the desert of his water-skins, promising him wine +instead, and then leave him to perish of thirst. But come, we should be +returning to the Schloss." + +"What say you to going to church?" asked Maurice. "I hear the old +missionary is to preach." + +Victor agreed, and the brothers returned to the lodge. + + + +CHAPTER III. + +_THE COUNT'S VISIT._ + +SERVICE-TIME found the little church of Nonnenwald filled to its utmost +capacity, which was not very great, so that some of the men had to sit +on the step of the pulpit or find an uneasy perch on the two or three +altar-shaped tomb; which made the small space within the walls still +smaller. All the country-people came to church, for the tidings of the +wolf-hunt had spread far and wide, and every one wished to hear the +news and discuss the capture. There was some staring when Gertrude +Reinhart in her deep mourning-veil entered the seat which she had not +occupied for four years, and more when the counts Maurice and Victor +came in and sat down in the pastor's pew. But the staring was nothing +to that which ensued when Brother Gotthold, the Moravian missionary, +ascended the pulpit in place of the old Lutheran pastor. Such a thing +had never happened before during all the fifty years of Doctor Martin +Fisher's pastorate. + +In a few words Brother Gotthold explained the matter: + +"Your respected pastor, I regret to say, is too ill this morning to +leave the house; and as it seemed a pity to dismiss the congregation +without a discourse, he has asked me to fill his place, which I shall +do as well as I am able." + +"He may well say that," whispered the schoolmaster to the shoemaker. +"I say it is a scandal for a wandering preacher to be asked into the +pulpit when there are those in the parish who could fill it with some +credit. I don't know what the consistory will say, for my part. It is +just an offshoot of French infidelity—that's what it is." + +The shoemaker made a motion with his head which might pass either for +a nod or a shake, and turned away. He did not care to engage in a +whispering conversation under the bright, earnest eyes which looked +down from the pulpit. Herr Franck drew himself up with offended +dignity, took a large pinch of snuff, and prepared himself to be +critical in respect to style and watchful for unsound doctrine. + +Nobody else cared to be critical. Brother Gotthold was well +known through all the neighbourhood, and a good many glances of +congratulation were exchanged. Even Herr Franck could find no fault +with the way he went through the opening services. He took for his text +the first verses of the fourteenth chapter of John. + + "Let not your heart be troubled: ye believe in God, believe also in me. + + "In my Father's house are many mansions. I go to prepare a place for +you." + +The discourse was so simple that little Gustaf could understand every +word, but it held the attention of the listeners wonderfully. Fat old +Farmer Fuchstein, who had regularly slept through every sermon he had +attended for over thirty years, kept wide awake all through, and wiped +his eyes more than once. The sermon was upon the consolations of the +gospel for the bereaved, for the suffering, for the penitent. Many a +head was bowed and many an eye dim with tears as the preacher alluded +tenderly to those whose friends were far away across the sea; and when +he reminded his hearers that the eternal rest was as near in America as +in Germany, and that no man could go beyond the reach of his Father's +love and protection, there was a universal burst of sobs. Count Maurice +himself listened with evident and deep interest; and as for Count +Victor, he never took his eyes from the preacher's face. There was a +general sigh when the sermon was concluded and the people gathered in +the churchyard. + +"Call that a sermon?" said Herr Franck. "Where was the deep divinity, +the Greek and Latin, and the fine, long, rolling sentences of our +doctor? Why, a child could understand every word. I dare say even silly +Hans knows what it was about.—Here, Hans, tell me what the minister +talked about." + +"About heaven," answered the simpleton readily—"the good place where +the angels live and there are no schoolmasters." + +"Good boy!" exclaimed Farmer Fuchstein, with a great laugh. "But why +dost thou think there are no schoolmasters in heaven, Hans?" + +"Because nobody cries there," answered Hans. "The preacher says so." + +Another laugh followed, and the schoolmaster stalked away greatly +offended. + +"Such a sermon as 'I' could have given them!" he said to himself. "And +nobody so much as thinks of me—not even the pastor. 'Tis an ungrateful +world. Not one of these lads but I have whipped all through the +alphabet, and yet they are all ready to grin when I am laughed at. But +we shall see what the consistory will say." + +Count Maurice and his brother walked away arm in arm as usual, but in +silence, which was not usual, since Maurice commonly talked for himself +and his brother too. + +At last Victor said, with a deep sigh,— + +"Maurice, I would give all I have in the world to believe what that man +said this morning." + +"And I would give it for you if such a belief would be a comfort to +you. But, Victor, why not find out the preacher and talk with him?" + +"I have talked with so many, and they never did me any good," said +Victor. + +"I don't remember ever seeing you study the Bible for yourself," said +Maurice, simply. + +Victor turned an inquiring look on his brother. + +"Study the Bible?" he repeated. + +"Why, yes. When you wished to learn mathematics, you did not content +yourself with talking to professors; you got the books and worked out +the problems for yourself. Why don't you do so now? Bibles are not so +rare and inaccessible, and you have one." + +"I know," said Victor as his brother paused. "I have treasured it, but +I never thought of studying it." + +They walked on in silence a few minutes, and then Maurice said, in his +peculiar matter-of-fact way,— + +"After all, Victor, in one way these simple Christian folks have one +more chance on their side than we people of advanced ideas." + +"One more chance?" answered Victor, rousing himself from abstraction, +as usual. "What do you mean?" + +"Why, if the French philosophers are right, these people are as well +off as we are now, and it will all come to the same thing in the end, +since there is no danger that the annihilated philosophers will laugh +at them, as somebody says. Nay, in one sense they are better off, since +they really do take a good deal of comfort in their belief. But if +yonder good missionary and his followers are right, 'we' are making +rather an awful mistake. A calculation which has eternity as one of its +elements has more need to be correct than a problem in your favourite +algebra." + +"You are right," said Victor. + +"Will you go with me to see the poor woman—Frau Reinhart, I think they +call her?" asked Maurice, after another long silence. "This is our last +day, you know, and perhaps we may come upon the preacher. I believe he +lodges with her." + +"Frau Reinhart? Oh yes, the mother of our young friend of the +churchyard. Certainly I will go with you. Anywhere rather than to that +dinner at the Schloss, with its wine-drinking and stupid jesting, and +the two priests watching one's every word and looking like ravens +watching over a flock of sheep." + +"Oh, come! You are too hard on the good fathers. The elder at least +is a kind-hearted man, and very good company. But I am as willing as +yourself to escape the dinner. Perhaps the good woman will offer us +some refreshment, or we will dine at the little inn. This is the house. +Shall we knock?" + + +"I trust you will do nothing rash, dame," said Count Maurice, somewhat +anxiously. + +"There is no fear," answered Gertrude; and it was wonderful to see how +a bright smile transformed her face. "Have I not these children to +think for? But Your Highness' words have given me a new hope; they have +revived the life that was well-nigh dead within me. I am strong yet. I +and my children can work, and you say no one need want work in America." + +"Leisure is much more to seek than work, I do assure you, good dame. +Ladies of birth and education in the northern colonies—so I am credibly +informed—perform all the menial offices of their households because +there are no servants. I have myself dined at the house of a gentleman +where the dinner was cooked by the hands of the lady and her daughters, +and well cooked too.—And that reminds me to ask for my brother. I dare +say he has forgotten that we have had nothing to-day but a crust and a +glass of wine." + +"If Your Highness would partake of our coarse fare, I should be only +too much honoured to prepare refreshments for you," said Gertrude, +eagerly. "I have a pie and some sausages which my uncle's wife sent me, +and we have cream and fresh butter. If Your Highness could eat black +bread—I fear there is none other to be had, but ours is sweet and good." + +Count Maurice was a very good-natured man as well as a very fine +gentleman in the true sense of those abused words. He loved to give +pleasure and he knew how to do it—how to enter into the feelings +of those about him. He had no trouble in seeming interested in his +fellow-creatures, simply because he really was interested. This was a +secret which the landgrave never could understand. He admired his young +cousin's easy manners and tried to imitate them, for he really did want +his people to like him, but he never succeeded. It was the ox trying to +imitate the frolics of the greyhound. + +Count Maurice readily and gracefully accepted the hospitality of +Gertrude Reinhart, partly because he wished to give her pleasure, and +partly because he was hungry and wanted his dinner; consequently, he +did so without either awkwardness or condescension. + +When the widow called her daughter to help her, Margaret was amazed at +the change in her mother's face. It was like the mother she remembered +years ago. She wondered what the count could have been telling her. + +Meantime, Count Maurice entered into conversation with Philip, looked +at and praised his wood-carving, and advised him to study drawing. + +"But I have no master," said Philip, doubtfully. + +"You have pencil and paper, and you have the things before you. Work +at what you have, and the rest will come. The hand which carved this +deer's head and this bunch of acorns should soon be able to do better +things. But what have we here?" + +"It is the design I have been trying to make for a cross to mark my +little brother's grave," said Philip; "but it does not satisfy me." + +"Philip, you will make an artist," said Count Maurice. "The world will +hear of you some day." + +"The pastor used to say that of my father," said Philip, flushing high +at the unexpected praise. "He said that Providence designed him for +an artist, and that he ought to leave his forge and go to the city to +study." + +"And what said your father?" + +"He answered merrily that when Providence had given a man a good trade +and a young family, it had given him two things which were meant to be +kept together," answered Philip. "My father was the best blacksmith +and wheelwright in all the country round. If he had been here, the +landgrave's horse would not have spoiled the hunt by falling lame the +other day." + +Count Maurice smiled. He had a shrewd notion that the landgrave's +superstitious dread of the ill omen involved in meeting the funeral had +quite as much to do with breaking off the hunt as the lameness of his +horse, which nobody perceived but himself. + +But he said nothing; and Gertrude having finished her simple +preparations, Count Victor was called, and the two brothers satisfied +her by making a hearty meal. + +"Well, what did your friend the preacher say to you?" asked Maurice +of his brother as they were walking homeward. "Something pleasant, to +judge by your face." + +"Much that was pleasant," answered Victor, "but chiefly he echoed your +advice—that I should study the Bible and let alone the works of men for +a while.—Maurice, I wondered this morning what had brought us to this +place. I think I know now." + + +That evening Gertrude called her children about her and explained her +plan fully to them. A new prospect had opened before her, a new hope +arisen in her mind, which made her feel again some of the spring and +energy of youth, before misfortune after misfortune had crushed her to +the earth. She had heard that in America there was room for every one +who wished to work; that many Germans had gone thither already and were +prospering; that there were schools and churches and no one to impose +arbitrary taxes or carry men away from their families and sell their +blood for money. + +"It is a good land, and many of our countrymen are there already. We +will save what money we can for a year or two, sell what we have here, +and go thither." + +Margaret's face brightened for a moment, and then fell again. + +"But if my father should come back and find us gone?" said she. + +"We cannot make any move for two or three years yet," answered her +mother. "By that time, we shall have certain news one way or other. The +count says every one believes that the war will come to an end before +long, and that the Americans are sure to win. We shall need to work +hard and save money. We will buy back our cows and—But this is not the +time to speak of business," she added, checking herself. "We will talk +it all over to-morrow." + + +"Are you not pleased with the thought of going to America?" said +Margaret to Philip as they went to take a last look at the hens and to +see that all was secure. + +"I am pleased with whatever pleases my mother," answered Philip. "It is +good to see her smile once more as she used to do." + +"And shall you not like to go to America?" + +"I cannot tell that till I know a little more what America is like. +His Highness says many fine things about it, and some that are not so +fine—about the agues and the wild beasts and the savages." + +"Oh, you always look on the dark side." + +"And then it is a great undertaking, Greta. We think it a great thing +to visit Fulda or Eisenach; and when Uncle Hans went to Frankfort last +year, the whole village turned out to see him go. But America is a long +way beyond Frankfort." + +"And, in short, you mean to spoil and hinder all you can," said +Margaret, angrily. "You care for nothing but carving and flowers and +making pretty things like a girl. You ought to be the woman and I the +man to go out into life." + +"And get your head broken the first day with your tongue," said Philip. +"'Men' don't talk to each other as you talk to me, Greta. If they did, +there would be more quarrels than there are now. There is not a boy in +the whole village who would dare to tell me I ought to be a girl." + +"I will take that back," said Margaret, rather ashamed. "I know I hurt +people's feelings ever so many times; but oh, Philip, if you knew +how I mourn for father and for the change in my mother! It makes me +desperate. But you don't make any allowance for my troubles. Nobody +does!" + +"They are not 'my' troubles, I suppose?" said Philip, in the tone which +always seemed to become more measured and gentle the more deeply he was +moved. "It is nothing to me to go to bed without poor little Fritz, +whom I have nursed ever since he was born, who knew and loved me when +he knew no one else. Oh, my baby, my innocent darling!" And Philip +leaned his head against the door of the henhouse and wept bitterly with +those deep, in-drawn sobs which are so dreadful to hear. + +Never had Margaret seen him give way so entirely. She had always given +herself credit for having far deeper feeling than her brother. She had +a kind of violent impatience of grief which made her rebel against it +angrily, while Philip never complained and seldom gave way. She said to +herself, and found some comfort in saying, that none of them, not even +her mother, felt the family calamities as she did; but now she began +to have an inkling that she was not, after all, so very superior to +her quiet and cheerful brother. She stood silent and awkward, provoked +at the pain in her conscience and at Philip for causing it, wishing to +comfort him, but not knowing how. + +At last, she put her arm round his neck: + +"Don't cry so, Philip—don't! You will make yourself sick. Don't you +know what Brother Gotthold said this morning? Think how happy the dear +little fellow is now, and how you will see him again some day. Yes, I +am sure you will." + +"I know," answered Philip, checking his sobs and pressing the hand +which Margaret put into his; "but oh, Greta, you don't know how I miss +him." + +There was a little silence, and then Margaret said, anxiously,— + +"But, Philip, you won't oppose this plan, will you? Think what it is to +see mother smile again!" + +"Not only will I not oppose it, but I will do all I can to help it on," +answered Philip. "I have already thought of a plan whereby I can earn +something in the long evenings that are coming, and to-morrow we will +talk it over. It is time to go to bed now." + +"And you are not angry with me?" asked Margaret, penitently. + +"Oh no," said Philip, cheerfully. "Good-night!" + +Margaret crept away to her own little room with an uncomfortable +feeling of humiliation and something like self-contempt at her heart. +She had always been used to look down on Philip and think that she +should have been the eldest son. Philip was always so quiet and +cheerful. + +"He took things so easily," Margaret said; "nothing seemed to touch +him." + +In the worst of their dark days, when he had been obliged to come home +from Fulda where he had been studying with his uncle, and to give up +the idea of going to college—when they had to sell their cows to meet +the expenses of the mother's long illness, and when it became known +that Fritz would always be an innocent—even then Philip could smile +and play with the children, and when he had a little spare time could +find pleasure in carving plants and leaves, in gathering crystals and +flowers and watching the colours of the sunset. + +All these things Greta had set down in her own mind as marks of a +frivolous, light-minded disposition. It was she who had to bear the +burden of everything, as she said, and she shut her eyes to the +fact that Philip quietly and silently took on himself all the more +disagreeable parts of the work, both in the house and in the field; +that it was Philip who amused Fritz by day and slept with him or +oftener watched with him at night, who kept him out of mischief and +taught him the few things he was capable of learning. + +She had shut her eyes to all these things, as I said, but now they +seemed to be suddenly opened. She remembered with a pang of remorse +the hundreds of times she had spoken sharply to the poor innocent, how +many times she had thrown his stores of pebbles and acorns out of the +window and knocked down his block houses, and then she remembered, +that last day, how Fritz had begged to go and see the new calf and she +had refused to take him because she was engaged in putting the last +stitches to a new hood. + +"Philip would have laid down his best piece of carving to please the +child," she thought. + +And then a cold, sick shudder came over her. If she had gone with Fritz +in the daytime, perhaps he would not have stolen out at night, and he +might have been here now. Philip had known of her refusal, and yet he +had never spoken one word of reproach. + +Greta had been much in the habit of spending an hour or so before +going to bed in dwelling on her grievances and picturing to herself a +state of life in which all should be made easy and pleasant—when she +should be surrounded by luxuries and splendour, dress in velvet and +jewels, and associate with nobles and princes. To-night, however, the +hour was spent very differently—in honest repentance, confession, and +humiliation of herself before her heavenly Father, in self-examination +and comparison of herself with the standard of God's word. This was +not one of those gusty paroxysms of exaggerated self-reproach and +violent weeping in which she had not seldom indulged when she could not +help seeing that she had been in the wrong, and which left her more +self-satisfied than before. Now she felt a genuine conviction of her +own unworthiness and helplessness, and cried earnestly for help to the +Strong. That hour had its influence over Greta's whole life. + +Philip, too, had his exercises in his own little room, which he had +so long shared with Fritz. This scheme of going to America would, if +carried out, be a deathblow to his dearest hope—a hope long cherished +in secret, and which had to-day received new life from the words of, +Count Maurice: "You should be an artist." + +Philip loved everything that was beautiful. That which had been talent +and knack in his father, in him rose to something like genius. There +lived in the neighbourhood of Fulda a nobleman who had a fine gallery +of pictures and statues. He was a good-natured man and not averse to a +little gossip now and then with the schoolmaster, Philip's uncle, on +his favourite subjects of the odes of Horace and the Greek metres; and +finding Philip had a fancy for drawing, he invited the boy to come and +see his pictures whenever he liked. + +Philip went, and found a new world opened to him. Was it possible that +he could ever make anything like that gladiator sinking and dying +there in the marble—like that wonderful Venus with her broken arms +upraised and her foot on the tortoise? From that hour, Philip's darling +dream was that he might some day go to Rome and study under some of +those great masters of whom he had heard. He had now been at home for +two years, where he had no chance to see a picture or statue, and no +one with whom he could talk over his plans, but none the less had he +cherished them in secret. But now, if this new plan were carried out, +all must be given up. A new country would be no place for an artist; +there would be nothing but rough work to do. + +Philip did not fear work or hardship. He knew, before he heard it from +Count Maurice, that a great many Germans had emigrated to America and +done well there. He had heard a letter read which such an emigrant had +written to his brother in Fulda, telling of the large farm, of the cows +and sheep and horses, and the money that was to be made. It would be a +grand opening for Gustaf—better than working day and night for a mere +subsistence, and perhaps, after all, to be carried off as his father +had been the next time the landgrave wanted to sell some of his people +for money. Then, as Greta said, it was a great thing to see his mother +smile again. + +Philip had been sitting on the foot of his bed in the dark. He got up; +and striking a light, he went to the cupboard in the wall where he kept +his choicest working materials and tools. In a far corner was something +carefully covered up with a cloth. Philip drew it forward reverently +and unrolled it. It was a block of alabaster, of the clear, fine grain +found in the Thuringerwald, partly carved into the semblance of a +child's head. The carving was unfinished and faulty in many respects, +yet an artist would have seen in it marks of true genius. The eyes were +a little out of proportion, but they saw. The mouth smiled and the +whole thing was full of expression. It was, in fact, a fair portrait of +the little child that was gone. Philip looked at it and kissed it. Then +he covered it again and put it back in its place. + +Then he closed the door, put out his lamp, and threw himself on his +knees by the bedside. How long he remained there he knew not, and only +one Eye saw what passed in his mind. To that One with strong crying and +tears he appealed, and he was heard. + +"Herein we perceive the love of God, because he laid down his life for +us; and we ought also to lay down our lives for the brethren." + +Philip Reinhart laid down his life at his Saviour's feet that night, +and the sacrifice was accepted. + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +_THE MISCHIANZA._ + +WE must now go back to the month of June, 1778. The winter just +passed had been one of the darkest of the war to the Americans. Their +little army, encamped at Valley Forge, had suffered for want of every +necessary of life, notwithstanding the efforts made all over the +country to relieve them. It was some comfort to the poor fellows that +Washington and his wife lived with them and shared their perils and +distresses. The Indians were out all along the frontier, and with them +were leagued Tories and renegade whites more savage than themselves. +There were divisions among the Americans themselves, and a cabal was +formed for the avowed object of ruining the commander-in-chief. It was +a dark and gloomy time. + +The English, on the contrary, were having very comfortable times. Lord +Howe had possession of Philadelphia, and his officers were passing +a very jolly winter, getting up balls and parties without number, +flirting with the fair daughters of their Tory friends, and too often +outraging all decency in their frolics and the company they kept. Howe +had gained full command of the Delaware not without some trouble and +loss. His forces had been repulsed at Fort Mercer, and he had lost a +gallant officer, Count Donop, commander of the Hessian forces. The poor +young man was saved from lingering misery by one of the French officers +to die in the midst of kindly care, as he said, "the victim of his own +ambition and the avarice of his sovereign." Still, Howe had succeeded +at last, and the river was his, so that the British ships came and went +at pleasure. + +In May, Sir William Howe resigned his place, and was succeeded by Sir +Henry Clinton. It was on this occasion, and by way of doing honour to +the departing general, that certain officers got up the notable scheme +of the "Mischianza," a kind of tournament, followed by a grand ball +and supper. There were seven knights of the "Blended Rose,"—whatever +that might be—and seven of the "Burning Mountain," and ladies dressed +in Turkish costume, and black servants with velvet tunics and silver +armlets, and a triumphal arch with a figure of Fame blowing from her +trumpet the words, "Thy laurels are immortal," and a great deal of +other parade and display. + +The unlucky Major André was one of the chief promoters of this grand +performance, and wrote a glowing description of the same to a friend +in England, which was published in the "Annual Register," where it +may still be read by the curious, and which provoked some satirical +comments. It was thought that a general who, with nineteen thousand +disciplined men and abundant material resources, had allowed himself to +be cooped up in Philadelphia and kept in a state of siege by a handful, +as it were, of ragged, barefooted, half-starved, and half-disciplined +troops, * need not have so readily accepted such a dish of adulation +or swallowed it with such a grave face. The same feeling was shared by +some of his own men. + + * Howe seems greatly to have overrated the strength of Washington's +army. See "Annual Register." + +It was the afternoon before the grand pageant was to take place. Some +iron-work was needed which required a more skilful hand than that of +an ordinary workman. Caspar Reinhart, blacksmith to one of the Hessian +regiments, was known to be a most accomplished smith, and to possess a +good deal of skill in ornamental work, and Major André applied to his +colonel to borrow him for the occasion. + +"Oh yes, you can have him, of course, and he vill do your vork +vell—dere is no doubt of dat," said the good-natured German. "Reinhart +is as goot a smit as is in de army." + +"And you, colonel—will you grace our festival to-morrow? It will be a +fine sight, I can tell you." + +"It will be a — of a sight, to my mind," said Colonel von Falkenstein, +using a German adjective neither elegant nor complimentary. "We haf +been fooling away time all dis vinter, and now ve are fooling away +money; dat is shoost the truth, Major André. De Yankees will make +demselves fun for us, and vith goot reason; and old Steuben—yes, I know +what he will say. No, I shall not go to see your pasteboard knights and +painted ladies. I shall stay at home and write to mine frau—my wife—for +I believe we shall move from here before long." + +"But you will let me have the smith?" said André, who had no mind to +quarrel with the old soldier. + +"Oh yes, to pe sure you can haf the smit, and a goot workman he is, and +a goot soldier, though he will never speak one word he can help. But he +can speak English shust so goot as I myself can." + +"That leaves nothing to be desired," said Major André, gravely. "But I +must hasten back to my work." + +"Very goot; I will send Reinhart after you." + +And thus it happened that Caspar Reinhart was engaged on some of the +ornamental wirework of the tilt-yard, as it was called. Colonel von +Falkenstein had not over-praised him when he called him a good soldier, +though a very silent one, and an admirable workman. + +Caspar listened to the instructions of the major, now and then +suggesting a slight improvement or respectfully pointing out a +difficulty. He then informed Major André that he should want +such-and-such things—an anvil and forge and a man to help him. + +"How very well you speak English!" said Major André. + +"I have taken pains to learn it," was the answer. + +"You would do famously on secret service," said the major, struck with +a sudden thought. "Nobody would know you from one of the Germans born +in the country. You would make a capital spy." + +Caspar made no answer to this remark, which was not to his taste, if +one might judge by the sudden darkening of his brow, but set himself +at once to work moving things out of his way and preparing for his +undertaking. It was not long before one of the portable army-forges was +set up, the charcoal furnished, and the fire kindled, but an assistant +seemed to be lacking. + +"Here is a man to serve your turn, Reinhart," said Major André, +presently reappearing with a tall, somewhat countryfied-looking man, +whose broad-brimmed hat and butternut-coloured clothes seemed to mark +him for one of the Society of Friends. "Nathan here understands your +trade.—Did you say your name was Nathan or Nathaniel, my Quaker friend?" + +"Neither, friend," answered the new comer, quietly. "My name is +Jonathan Elmer; and having come to this place about my own business, I +have no objection to earn an honest penny before I leave it. Neither am +I a Friend or Quaker, as thee calls them, but my wife's folks are of +that persuasion, and I have caught their ways." + +"And pray what was your business, Master Jonathan Elmer, if I may make +so bold as to inquire," said André, somewhat suspiciously; "and how did +you come hither without a pass?" + +"My business here is to look after a debtor who I have reason to think +means to run away," answered Jonathan, with the same calmness. "As to +my pass, I have shown it to thy commanding officer, and will do the +same for thee if thou wilt, taking the freedom at the same time to +observe that the fire is wasting and this friend who has thy work in +charge is growing impatient." + +"And that is true," said Major André. "Go about your work, and you +shall be well paid, both of you." + +The two smiths went to work with a will, and Caspar found his new +acquaintance an intelligent assistant, though he talked as much as +he worked and asked a great many questions—so many that Caspar's +suspicions began to be aroused. + +"What does thee mean to do when this war is over?" asked Jonathan Elmer +as the two together were fixing in its place a bit of iron railing. + +"Go home to my family, if they will let me," answered Caspar, shortly. + +"I have heard that many of the Hessians did not come of their own +accord?" + +"Very few of them did.—Take care; that beam is loose." + +"And I have heard that a great many of them have deserted. Is that +true?" + +"So they say." + +"And is it true that there is talk of evacuating Philadelphia?" + +"You ask too many questions, comrade," said Caspar, but not unkindly, +for something in the young man's manner drew him toward the stranger in +spite of himself. "You will be in trouble if any one hears you." + +"Thank thee for the caution," said Elmer. "It is indeed not wise to +give way to unrestrained curiosity, and for my wife's sake as well as +my own, I should not like to get into trouble." + +"Then you have a wife?" asked Caspar. + +"Yes, indeed—as fair and good as lives—and three promising children, +though I say it that shouldn't. And you—There! I beg your pardon," said +Jonathan Elmer. "I see I have touched a sore spot. Pray forgive me." + +"There needs no forgiveness," answered Caspar, choking down his +emotion. "I left a wife and four children at home without even a +leave-taking." + +"You did not desert them, surely?" + +"Heaven forbid! but I was carried away without the chance of speaking a +word to my family.—Is that firm, think you? I am not sure of it." + +"As firm as it can be made with the stupid work of these British +carpenters. 'Tis a wonder if the whole is not down when any weight +comes on it. Take care!" + +As he spoke, the whole ornamental work of the screen on which they were +engaged cracked and fell with a tremendous crash. A large beam fell +just where Caspar had been standing, and but for his companion's quick +sight and sudden action in drawing him away would have crushed him to +the earth. Some of the light lattice-work grazed his cheek as it was. + +"You have saved my life," said Caspar as soon as he could speak for the +lime-dust which filled his mouth and eyes. "But what—" + +"Hush! Hush!" said his companion, hastily readjusting the hat and wig, +which had been displaced and showed underneath fair hair and a skin +unstained by butternut juice. "Are you hurt?" + +"No; thanks to your wit and strong arm, am safe. And you?" + +"Not a bit, not a bit!" answered Captain Elmer. "But it was an unlucky +thing for me. My life is in your hands, Friend Reinhart; will you sell +it?" + +"What do you take me for?" asked Caspar, indignantly. "Am I a dog of +Tory?" + +"No, truly; but we of the Jerseys have little reason to love or trust +the Hessians. Well, do what you will; 'tis but the fortune of war." + +"Hush!" said Caspar, imperatively. "Here comes the English major. You +have been hurt by the beam, and can hardly stand; do you comprehend?" + +"Yes, yes! But you. Don't let me get you into trouble!" + +"Hush!" said Caspar, again. + +And at that moment, Major André made his appearance on the scene. + +"What is the matter? Oh, I see. I told Barne the screen would never +stand. Was any one hurt? What! You, my good fellow?" + +"Not much," answered the pretended blacksmith, setting his teeth as in +pain—"only my shin; but it aches for the minute, and I don't believe I +am good for much more work this afternoon." + +"We can do no more, at any rate, till the screen is set up again," +remarked Caspar. + +"Very well; there will be time to finish in the morning. Be on hand +bright and early. There is a guinea for you, Friend Jonathan, to buy a +plaister. You are a likely fellow, too. Suppose you enlist, take the +king's money, and help to drive the Yankees out of Pennsylvania?" + +"I should make but a poor hand at thy carnal weapons of warfare, +friend," answered Jonathan Elmer, coolly pocketing the money. "Thank +thee for thy proffer, all the same." + +"I say! Where do you lodge, in case I want you again?" said Major André. + +"At the sign of the Fast Horse, in Second street," answered Jonathan. + +"Very good; I shall know where to find you. I must hunt up my precious +carpenters and make them do their work over again." + +"Now he is gone, you had better be going too," said Caspar. + +"I am entirely of your opinion," answered Captain Elmer. "If I saved +your life, you have spared mine, so we are fairly even, since you might +have betrayed me to yonder prince of popinjays with a word. Should you +ever be in straits within the American lines, ask for Jonathan Elmer. +And here: take this for a keepsake." + +"What will you do?" asked Caspar, mechanically holding the watch which +Captain Elmer put into his hands. + +"Well enough, never fear. I have friends enough in town, and I know +every creek on the Delaware. Farewell! I see our fine major coming this +way again." + +Jonathan Elmer limped deliberately away till he had turned the corner, +when he exchanged his limp for a rapid walk, turned the corner of a +narrow alley leading to the water, and was out of sight in an instant. + + + +CHAPTER V. + +_A DOOR OPENED._ + +VERY early in his military career, Caspar Reinhart had earned the +character given him by old Von Falkenstein—of being one of the best +men, and altogether the most silent man, in the whole force. Snatched +without warning from home and family and all that he held dear, he +was at first like one stunned by a heavy blow. He could feel nothing +but a cold, benumbing sense of utter desolation. As the days went on, +carrying him farther and farther from all that made life worth having, +this first feeling was succeeded by one of burning rage against those +who had been the cause of his misfortune, more especially against the +landgrave and Captain Burger, who had commanded the kidnapping party +who took him prisoner. It is impossible to have such a feeling in +one's heart and not betray it in some way; and so it came to pass that +Captain Burger knew that Caspar Reinhart both hated and despised him. + +Now, it takes a great man to despise contempt. Captain Burger was not a +great man, but a very small one, and he returned Casper's hatred with +interest, and was all the more angry because his enemy gave him no +cause of complaint. No man was better at drill or neater in his dress +than Reinhart, none more punctiliously respectful in manner or more +attentive to his general duty. There was actually nothing to lay hold +of. Nevertheless, Captain Burger hated Reinhart and spited him on every +occasion. + +But their connection was not to last long, which was well for both of +them. A smith was wanted for a cavalry regiment, and inquiry was made +among the men. + +"There is Reinhart, from Nonnenwald," said Reinhart's colonel, who was +a friend of old Von Falkenstein. "His father was the best smith in +all the country, and he brought up his son to his own trade. I think +Reinhart would suit you exactly. He is in Burger's company at present, +and would be well out of it. Reinhart is no common man. He is somewhat +educated and very well behaved, but he is thrown away where he is; and +besides, they tell me Burger spites him whenever he can get a chance to +do so." + +"How is it that you come to know him so well?" + +"Oh, I knew his father before him, and so feel interested for him. I +should like to get him out of Burger's way." + +"Burger is a stupid coxcomb of a would-be Frenchman," growled the old +man. + +So the matter was finally settled, and Caspar found his condition much +improved by the exchange. His spirits insensibly grew brighter as he +felt his old tools once more in his hands. The dark cloud cleared away +from his brain, and he was able once more to think and to consider what +was best to be done. There was no escape from his present condition, +and all that remained was to make the best of it. He could not bring +himself to feel that he owed any duty to the sovereign who had sold him +like a sheep or the officers who had kidnapped him, but he saw that for +his own sake and that of those he had left at home, he must earn and +support a good character. He would do so to the best of his ability, +would save his wages, and at the end of the war, if he lived so long, +he would settle down in the country whither he had been brought against +his will and send for his family to come to him. + +Having once arrived at this conclusion, Caspar kept it steadily in +view. He worked early and late, and earned many an odd shilling and +half guinea besides his regular pay. He set himself earnestly to +work to learn English, and made very rapid progress. One day, after +a successful foraging-party in New Jersey, he heard some of his +companions laughing over their plunder. + +"Give it to Reinhart," he heard one of them say. "He can tell us." + +"Give what to Reinhart?" he asked. + +"A miracle! A miracle!" cried one of the men. "The smith has spoken +without being spoken to.—Come here, smith, and tell Barsch what he has +found. He thinks it is a book of Yankee magic." + +Reinhart took in his hand the small richly-bound volume and looked at +the title-page. + +"It is a Bible," said he. + +"A Bible! Barsch has stolen a Bible!" cried his companions. "Barsch can +set himself up for a pastor.—Come, old fellow, give us a sermon." + +"Hush, children!" said a gray old sergeant. "Is that the way to treat +the holy word? You will bring bad luck on us." + +"It is only a Yankee Bible, Father Martin," said the young man, a +little abashed. + +"A Bible is a Bible all over the world," returned the old sergeant. "Is +not that so, smith?" + +"That is true," answered Reinhart. + +He had held the Bible in his hands all the time, and as he turned over +its pages, a great longing seized him to have the book for his own. He +had not seen or opened a Bible since the day he was carried away, and +the very touch and sight seemed to do him good. + +"Will you sell me this book, Barsch?" he asked. + +"Give it to you if you like," was the answer. "You don't think it will +bring me ill-luck, do you?" + +"Give him a horseshoe to wear round his neck in exchange for his book," +cried one of the men, laughing, "else some Yankee witch will come and +carry him off." + +A half-laughing, half-quarrelling dispute ensued, but Reinhart heard +nothing of it. Book in hand, he retreated to a quiet corner and sat +down to study his prize. He had always been given to reading when +he had time, and he thought the Bible would be a great help to that +knowledge of English which he so coveted. Every spare moment was now +spent with his book. He was familiar already with the German Lutheran +versions, and had no more trouble in making out the English than served +to impress it on his mind. + +He read and studied, and by degrees a new light broke upon his +darkness. A new hope arose in his heart. One of whom he had always +heard, but whom he had never known, came to him, and said,— + + "It is I: be not afraid." + +And Caspar believed and was comforted. He still held to his purpose +of settling in America if he should live to the close of the war, and +getting his family about him in a new home, but a brighter and higher +hope arose behind and over all. He learned to take that long look into +eternity which reduces all things else to correct perspective, like the +true point of sight in a picture. + +It was impossible for Reinhart not to abhor the life he was living. +He was a humane and kind-hearted man engaged in a war which it must +be confessed was one of peculiar atrocity. It is a fact that in order +to strike the more terror into the rebels, as they were called, the +Hessians were encouraged in all sorts of violence, cruelty, and +oppression. They were told that the Yankees took no prisoners except +such as they meant to make slaves of, and they were bidden to give no +quarter. In the whole of the New Jersey campaign, the Hessians robbed, +burnt, and murdered right and left, friends as well as enemies. Those +who had fondly hoped to remain neutral, relying on Sir William Howe's +protection, found they were leaning on a broken reed. The Hessians +never asked whether a man were Whig or Tory, rebel or loyal, so long +as he had what they coveted. The men were absolutely encumbered with +plunder; and as a natural consequence, their discipline was relaxed and +their own officers found it hard to manage them. + +Reinhart kept aloof from such scenes as much as possible, but he +was a soldier and had to obey orders, and he constantly saw things +which turned him sick with horror or made his blood boil with rage. +Sometimes, indeed, he would interfere to save a life or protect a child +from death or a woman from insult, but oftener was a helpless spectator +of the atrocities perpetrated by his comrades. + +Only for the hope that he might some time rejoin his family, and that +other hope which had lately arisen in his mind, he would have gone mad. +He never tried to avoid any exposure, but the bullets which laid low so +many of his companions seemed to avoid him, and he never had a scratch. +His wild companions, who had alternately abused and laughed at him, at +last began to respect the silent man who never shrank from any danger +or evaded any duty or hesitated to help a comrade in trouble, but who +absolutely refused to soil his hands with cruelty or plunder. Some of +them even whispered that he was under the protection of some superior +power; whether heavenly or not they could not tell. + +Caspar was early at his work the morning after the accident with the +screen. He had a shrewd guess that his clever assistant with the brown +wig would not appear again, and he had therefore brought with him one +of his own companions. + +The carpenter had mended the broken screen, and the light wire lattice +was once more fixed in its place when Major André appeared on the scene +with Caspar's old officer and enemy, Captain Burger. Burger had always +striven hard to assume and support the character of a fine gentleman. +He had once held a very doubtful position in one of the very smallest +of German courts. He had been the humble companion of the youthful +heir-apparent, and had there learned a little French, a little music, +and a good deal about kings and queens, princes and princesses. He +knew how to fence and to dance; and being big and tall, with a yellow +moustache and a great deal of assurance, he believed himself quite +irresistible. He had been one of the great promoters of the Mischianza, +which most of his companions openly ridiculed, and he had tried hard to +be made one of the "Knights of the Blended Rose," but that honour was +denied him. + +"Well done, smith," cried Major André as Caspar paused in his work and +gravely saluted the two officers. "You have lost no time, I see, and +you have done your work well." + +Caspar bowed gravely. + +"But I see you have a new assistant," continued Major André. "What has +become of our Yankee friend?" + +"I have not seen him," answered Caspar. "I thought he might be too much +hurt to work, and therefore, not to lose time, I brought one of my own +comrades along." + +"You are a clever fellow," said André, examining the work. "You ought +to be something more than a common smith." + +Caspar bowed again. + +"Why, what a dumb fish you are, man!" said the good-natured major. "For +a man that speaks English so well as you do, you are wonderfully chary +of your words." + +"We have a proverb which says that silence is a safe game," said +Caspar, not unmoved by the kindly manner of the handsome young +Englishman and smiling in his turn. + +Captain Burger looked at Reinhart as he spoke, and recognized him. + +"What! You are Reinhart of Falkenstein's troop?" said he, in a voice +which somehow conveyed an insult in its very tones. "I remember you +were always a sulky bear. Well, have you heard from home lately?" + +"No, my captain," answered Caspar, respectfully, his heart giving a +sudden leap as a gleam of hope came over him. "I have never heard a +word from my wife since I left her. May I ask if any letters have come?" + +"Not that I know of," answered Captain Burger. "I fancy the women have +something else to do. Your wife may have donned her widow's veil and +taken it off again before this time, as I hear many another has done." + +For a moment, the old hate blazed up in Caspar's heart and shone out at +his eyes. Then the bitter feeling of disappointment drowned everything +else. He bit his pale lips and turned away. + +"Burger, you are a brute," said André, in honest indignation.—"There! +Never mind, my man," he added, hastily and in a low tone as he caught +sight of Caspar's face. "Don't get yourself into trouble. I dare say +your good wife has written before now. The mails are very uncertain." + +"Have no fear for me, my officer," answered Caspar, quietly. "He who +kicks a fettered man exercises his valour in safety.—Will it please you +to tell us what to do next? I think there is no more fear of this." + +"Smith, you shall pay for this," said Burger, pale with rage in his +turn. + +"Hold your tongue, man, can't you?" said André, drawing him away. "Let +the smith alone. He is a fine fellow, and shall not be insulted—while +he is working for me, at least." + +It was not for Burger's interest to quarrel with his companion, so +he smoothed his plumes and affected to treat the matter as of no +consequence: + +"Well, well, let it go. He is a good smith, as you say, and might rise, +only for his sulky temper." + +"He must have wit, or he would not have learned English so readily," +remarked André. "I was telling him yesterday that he ought to be +employed in secret service, as nobody would know him from a German born +in the country. I don't think, however, that he relished the notion." + +A light not good to see shone in Burger's eyes for a moment. + +"Yes, as you say, he would make a good spy.—I wonder I never thought of +that," he added, more to himself than to his companion. "To be sure, he +might desert, but then I should be rid of him." + +"Why in the name of wonder should you wish to be rid of him?" asked +André, in surprise. "I should think such a workman would be invaluable. +I never saw a better piece of work than he has made of that screen." + +"Oh, he is such a sulky dog. You heard how he answered me—or you, +rather." + +"And what wonder, when you spoke as you did? Suppose any one had hinted +such a thing about your wife, supposing you had one?" + +"Major André, such language as this from one gentleman to another—" + +"Fiddle-de-dee!" said André, who stood in no awe of his big companion. +"Don't try to pick a quarrel, man. I have no time for such frolics at +present. Come, let us go and look at our arch of triumph. Do you know +what old Von Falkenstein said when I told him about it? 'More arch than +triumph,' he growled; and, faith, I think, between ourselves, the old +man was right. It must be confessed we have not made a very brilliant +campaign." + +Two or three days after the Mischianza had gone off in grand array, a +messenger came to Caspar Reinhart as he was reading beside his forge in +one of the intervals of his work. + +"You are to go to headquarters directly," said the messenger. "General +Clinton has sent for you." + +Greatly wondering, Reinhart made himself tidy, put his book in his +pocket, and presented himself in due time before General Clinton, +who, with several officers about him, was examining a rough map of +the shores of the Delaware below Philadelphia. Captain Burger was in +attendance, and his eye met Reinhart's with a look which the latter did +not understand. + +"Here is the man I mentioned to Your Excellency," said he. + +"Oh yes! Your name is—" + +"Caspar Reinhart, Your Excellency." + +"And I hear you speak English very well and are skilful at your trade?" + +"It is not for me to say, Your Excellency," answered Reinhart, with a +beating heart. He had heard a rumour that he was to be transferred to +the artillery—a change which would have been greatly to his liking. + +"Ah, well, you are just the man I want," said Sir Henry. "It is very +desirable that we should know the state of things in West Jersey, and +you are the very one to obtain information for us. We have reason to +think that some forces are gathering there, and that there is a design +for attacking the forts." + +The general proceeded to explain his plan. Reinhart was to be taken +down to the fort below the city. Here he was to take a boat, slip away +by night down the river, and land somewhere on the Jersey shore. From +thence he was to proceed inland in the character of a smith seeking +work, communicating cautiously with loyal inhabitants and gathering all +the information possible. + +Again Caspar saw the glance of gratified malice in Burger's eyes, and +he understood at once that he was caught in a trap from which there was +no escape. His habit of silence served him in good stead; and though +every vein and nerve was tingling, he simply saluted and said nothing. + +"You will come here at four o'clock to receive your final instructions +and money," continued Sir Henry. "I shall furnish you with a pass to +help you in your return, although you are not to use it except in case +of utmost need. You must make your wit save your head, as the saying +goes." + +"Or his neck, rather," said Burger, with a sneer. + +"I shall try to do so, Your Excellency," said Caspar, with the same +gravity, thinking, at the same time, that the pass would most likely be +unnecessary. + +"That is all. Come here precisely at four o'clock. Of course you +understand that this matter must be mentioned to no one. You are merely +going down to the fort to look at some iron-work which needs repairing. +I need not tell you that the service is a dangerous one; but if you +succeed, the reward shall be in proportion to the danger." + +Caspar, finding himself dismissed, walked slowly back to his quarters, +resolving many things in his mind. He saw clearly that he was indebted +to his old enemy Captain Burger for being sent on such a troublesome +and dangerous service—a service far more perilous than any ordinary +engagement, since, if discovered and taken, he was certain to be hung. +The business was one peculiarly disagreeable to him. His sympathies +were all on the side of the Americans, who were fighting for their +liberty against almost hopeless odds. As to his own prince, he +naturally did not feel that he owed any duty to the prince who had sold +him like a sheep. Hundreds of the Hessians had deserted, but Caspar +could not make up his mind to desert. If for no other reason, he would +not give his enemy such a triumph. + +"I can only go where I am sent," said he, at last. "Perhaps, after all, +this may be the opening of the door for which I have been praying." + +The afternoon was spent in making his preparations. He secured the +small sum of money which he had earned and saved, wrapped up his Bible +and put it in an inner pocket, and wrote a long letter to his wife, +which he carried to the old sergeant, begging him to send it as soon as +possible. + +"What! You are going down the river, I hear?" said the old man. "I +suppose you will be back in a few days. I wish the stupid English +would mend their own tools and let us alone. There is not a smith in +the whole army who can manage a horse as you can. But you will be back +soon, eh?" + +"There is no telling," said Caspar. "Farewell, Father Martin, and many +thanks for all your kindness. If you ever go back, go and see my wife +at Nonnenwald." + +"Why, one would think you were going to your death," said old Martin, +struck by something in Caspar's manner. "You don't mean to desert, eh?" + +"Not I," answered Caspar; "but there are things one must not tell, you +know." + +"I believe Burger has been playing you some dog's trick or other," said +Martin. "If he has, I will put a nail in his shoe for it. I know all +about him and his family; he is no more a gentleman than I am. Yes, +yes! I can tell things." + +"Do nothing for my sake, Father Martin," said Caspar, earnestly. +"The man has always been my enemy, but I have no desire for revenge. +Farewell, and present my duty to our colonel." + +Punctually at four o'clock Caspar repaired to the general's quarters, +where he received his pass, a well-filled purse, and the hearty good +wishes of the general. + +"You have settled in your mind precisely what you will do?" + +"As far as I can beforehand, Your Excellency;" and Caspar proceeded to +explain his design. + +"You are a very clear-headed man," said the general. "You shall not be +forgotten, I promise you, when you return." + +"It will be time to think of that when I see whether I am to return at +all, Your Excellency." + +"Oh, you must not be downhearted," said Sir Henry, kindly. "The service +is a dangerous one, but many a man has lived through it. Good luck go +with you!" + +At twelve o'clock that night, Caspar Reinhart pushed off his little +boat and made for the Jersey shore, under cover of which he floated +downward, only using his oars to keep himself from running aground. +It was a bright night. The wind blew down the river and the tide was +running out very fast. The air was soft and warm, and all sorts of +sweet odours mingled with the smell of salt water and river-mud. The +frogs, turtles, and insects were performing an uproarious concert along +shore, to which to him unknown birds occasionally added a strain. + +Caspar listened to the various voices, wondering what creatures made +them, and starting now and then as some big bullfrog near at hand +offered a gruff remark, till he grew horribly sleepy, and at last +dropped into a doze. He did not seem to himself to have slept a moment, +when he was startled by a sudden shock, and waked to find his boat +aground. The early streaks of dawn were showing in the east, and Caspar +concluded that he could not do better than to rest on his oars till it +grew light enough to see about him. + +Presently he discovered that his boat had run itself aground on a sandy +spit of land projecting into the Delaware. On the other side seemed to +be the mouth of a pretty good-sized inlet or river; it was not easy +to say which. The banks were low and overgrown with oak and pine, +mostly quite small, and what is called scrub, intermixed with holly +and laurel, the latter in the full beauty of its magnificent bloom. +Beautiful vines ran over the trees, and strange flowering-plants grew +in the edges of the water. Dainty beach-birds danced up and down the +margin of sand left by the retreating tide, a stately heron was fishing +on the other side, and on a tree close at hand a mocking-bird was +pouring out a wonderful strain of melody. * + + * The mocking-bird is a rare but not unknown visitor in South Jersey. +I heard a very fine one in the old churchyard in Bridgeton. + +"It is the garden of Eden," thought Caspar, looking about him with +delight, for he had a keen sense of beauty. "Well, I don't see that I +can do better than to eat my breakfast, rest a while, and when the tide +makes float up the creek here and seek my fortune in the interior." + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +_THE BEAR._ + +ABOUT ten o'clock the water was high enough to float the boat, and +Caspar, once more betaking himself to his oars, found himself being +carried by the tide up one of the most crooked rivers he had ever +seen. The boat's head did not point the same way for half an hour at +one time. The banks were very lonely, low but not marshy, and covered +with a low growth of pines and glossy-leaved oaks mixed with holly and +laurel, while now and then from some low ground came the warm spicy +breath of the magnolia. Caspar saw no signs of human habitation. + +"I wonder where all the people are?" he thought. "The general says the +country is well settled, so I suppose I shall come to them some time +or other. I shall have to tie up by and by, I suppose, when the tide +turns. I wonder what time it is?" + +And then he remembered Jonathan Elmer's watch, and took it out. It was +a plain double-cased one, with the owner's name engraved on the inside, +where was a small water-colour drawing of a pretty dark-haired little +girl. Caspar looked at the picture till the tears came to his eyes. + +"It is like our little Gertrude, who went to heaven so long ago," said +he. "Oh, if I only knew what they were all about at this moment!" + +Just then a sound fell on his ear strange to hear in the midst of such +a wilderness—a child's voice calling for help in tones of distress and +alarm. Caspar turned his boat's head toward the bank, but a thought +made him pause for a moment. He had heard of an animal in the woods of +America which imitated the sound of children's voices in order to draw +compassionate travellers into its clutches. * Another cry—articulate +this time—made him hesitate no longer: + +"Father, father! Come to Kitty, quick!" + + * This story used to be told of the panther, and believed when I was +young; and I believe it is still credited by old woodsmen. + +In an instant, Caspar had reached the shore, and sprang up the bank. He +pushed on through the thick bushes, and came upon a curious scene. A +pretty little girl about eight years old stood with her back against +a tree, brandishing with all her strength a dry stick which she had +snatched up, while about four feet away was a black bear sitting on +his haunches and regarding the child with great attention. The animal +seemed rather curious and interested than angry. + +Kitty had no notion of falling an unresisting prey, and brandished her +pine stick womanfully, while she called for help at the top of her +voice. The moment her eyes fell on Caspar, she exclaimed,— + +"Oh, Mr. Man, please to drive away that thing." + +Caspar shouted and drew a pistol from his belt, but the bear had no +mind to wait for any such arguments. He dropped on his fore legs with +an angry snarl and shuffled away. The moment he was out of sight, Kitty +dropped her weapon, and, tumbling all in a heap at the bottom of the +tree, began to cry bitterly. + +Caspar sat down on a stone, and taking her in his lap endeavoured to +soothe her, but it was no easy task. She was a very pretty child, and +had been neatly dressed, but her clothes were torn and stained and her +little shoes nearly worn from her feet. + +"Hush, hush, little dear!" said Caspar, pressing the little dark +head against his breast and holding the hands which clung to him +desperately. "The bear is gone; he shall not hurt you nor scare you any +more." + +"It is naughty to cry, I know," sobbed Kitty, finding her voice at +last; "but the thing was so ugly and black; and when I told him to go +away, he—he—just grinned! He wouldn't mind me a bit!" She sobbed afresh +at the remembrance of the bear's disrespectful conduct. + +"Naughty bear, not to mind the little girl!" said Caspar. "But where +dost thou live, little dear?" + +"My father lives in Bridgeton, but I am staying at Aunt Deborah's," +said Kitty; "and I got lost and have been out in the woods all night, +and I am so hungry you don't know." + +Caspar put his hand in his pocket and drew out a couple of hard +biscuits, which Kitty eagerly seized upon. + +"But don't you want some yourself?" she asked after she had eaten one. + +"Oh no; I have had my breakfast. But now try and tell me where thy aunt +lives. Is it on the river here?" + +"Yes; it is on the river, right across from Greenwich," explained Kitty +with her mouth full of biscuit. "Aunt Deborah preaches in the meeting +at Greenwich, and it was that that made me get lost." + +"How so?" asked Caspar, much wondering what sort of an aunt it was that +preached. + +"Why, she went to meeting and she wouldn't take me, and I was angry, +and so I ran away and got lost. It was very naughty of me," concluded +Kitty, penitently, "because Aunt Deborah is real good generally; only I +did want so very much to go and see Elizabeth Fithian's kittens." + +"But thou shouldst mind what thou art told, my child," said Caspar. + +"Yes, I know I should, and most generally I do," said Kitty; "but I +wanted some magnolias and lady-slippers.—But who are you?" she asked, +struck with a new fear. "You are not a Hessian, are you?" + +"What dost thou know about Hessians?" asked Caspar. + +"They are wicked men who fight for King George, and kill people, and +drive away their cattle," said Kitty. "Recompense Joake said the +Hessians would catch me if I went out in the pasture, and cut my head +off. You are not a Hessian, are you?" + +"I am a Hessian, certainly, but I will not hurt thee," said Caspar. +"The Hessians are not all bad. I will carry thee home if only we can +find the way. I think we had better go down to the river and take to +the boat. If thy home is up the river, we shall reach it sooner in that +way." + +"There, now! I shall tell Recompense Joake that he doesn't know +everything," said Kitty, in a tone of satisfaction, as they turned +toward the bank. "But Hessians do hurt people sometimes?" + +"Yes, when they are soldiers. That is the trade of a soldier, you know." + +"And are you not a soldier?' + +"I am a smith," said Caspar, evading the question. "I had a dear little +girl just about thy age, who died." + +"Did you?" asked Kitty, much interested. "What was her name?" + +"Her name was Gertrude Reinhart, and mine is Caspar Reinhart." + +"And my name is Catharine Elmer, but everybody calls me Kitty, even +Recompense Joule," said Kitty, in an injured tone.—"There, now! I +should like to know how we are to get into your boat?" + +Caspar looked in dismay. In his hurry to save the child, he had not +secured his boat. It had floated off into the middle of the stream, +and, the tide having turned, it was making good progress toward +Delaware Bay. Caspar could have beaten himself for his stupidity, but +there was no help for it now. + +"Well, little one, we must trust to our own legs," said he, trying +to make the best of matters. "If we keep within sight of the river, +we cannot be far wrong. If only the boat had not carried away my +great-coat and provisions, it would not matter so much." + +Kitty declared herself able to walk "miles upon miles," now that she +had had something to eat, and set off sturdily enough; but it presently +appeared that she had overrated her powers, since she was not only very +tired, but very lame. + +"Thou canst not walk, my little one," said Caspar, presently. + +"I am afraid I can't," answered Kitty, sorrowfully. "My feet are so +sore, and I think I have got a thorn or something in one of them." + +Caspar examined the tender little feet, which were indeed sorely +blistered, drew out a thorn, and bound them up with leaves and strips +torn from Kitty's apron, which was pretty well reduced to rags already. +Kitty bore the operation bravely, though she winced now and then. + +"Now you will have to carry me," said she, "and I don't see how you +will manage. But it is a good thing that I am small of my age, isn't +it? I shall tell Recompense Joake so when I get home. He is always +laughing at me and calling me a chipmunk and a sparrow, and what not." + +Kitty chattered on till she chattered herself off to sleep. She was not +very heavy, but still she was something of a load, and Caspar found his +arms aching. The walking was difficult and slow, especially as he dared +not go out of sight of the river for fear of losing his way. + +He was obliged to sit down and rest several times, and it was drawing +on toward sunset when he at last came out on an open space where there +were signs of a farm-clearing and a deserted and half-ruined log cabin. +Near by was a bit of low ground overgrown with bushes, out of which ran +a clear shallow stream, the first running water they had come across +that day. There had been a small barn, but it was broken down and +decayed. The cabin was a double one, and the roof and fireplace at one +end were tolerably entire, while the other held a heap of old straw and +a quantity of pine knots and roots which had evidently been gathered +for fuel at some time or other. + +Caspar laid Kitty gently down on the straw and covered her with his +jacket. Then he climbed a tall tree—the only one of any size near—and +looked all about him. Far away on the other side of the river he could +see a smoke, but on this side all was as lonely as if no man had ever +set foot on the soil. + +"What a long way the child must have wandered!" he thought. "But then +lost children do travel to an immense distance sometimes." + +He descended, and sat down on a log at the door to consider the +situation. He was very tired himself; and horribly sleepy, having been +up all the night before. There was no appearance of their being near +any house. Some round headed clouds were rising in the west, betokening +a thunder-shower by and by. If they went on, darkness and the storm +would probably overtake them in the woods, and the child might perish +before morning. Here they at least had shelter and the means of making +a fire. + +Caspar searched his pockets again, and discovered another bit of +biscuit. He also examined and reprimed his pistols. As he did so, a +mellow whistle made him look up to see a pair of quails running along +under the edge of a tumble-down bit of fence. Caspar was a capital +marksman, and the birds were within easy shot. He took a careful aim, +and to his great delight succeeded in killing one of them. + +"Good!" said he. "Things might be worse, a great deal." + +He picked up his prize, and turned to where Kitty, awakened by the +shot, was sitting up and rubbing her eyes. + +"What was that?" she asked, apparently a little bewildered. + +"I have killed a bird for our supper," said Caspar, "and now I am going +to make a fire and cook it." + +"But I always have bread and milk for supper," said Kitty, "and I want +to go home and get some. I don't want to stay out another night." + +"Nor I," answered Caspar, "but we cannot choose very well.—There! Don't +cry," he added, as Kitty put up a grieved lip. "Listen, and I will tell +you all about it." + +Kitty listened while Caspar, in the plainest English he could muster, +explained the plan he had decided upon and his reasons for it. The +comment she made was an unexpected one: + +"I like you, Mr. Hessian, because you talk sense and tell the reasons +of things. When I ask Recompense Joake the reason, he says, 'Oh, don't +thee bother! Little girls can't understand.' He did the other day when +I asked him what was the reason the shad come in the spring, and not in +the fall; and I don't believe he knew himself. Do you?" + +"I dare say not," said Caspar much amused, but wondering who or what +Recompense Joake could be. "Then you will try to be content?" + +"I will try to be good," said Kitty, piteously, "but I do want to go +home so much you don't know. And we always have warm gingerbread Friday +night; and oh, just suppose my father should come home and find me +gone!" + +The thought was too much for Kitty's philosophy. She burst into tears +and cried bitterly. + +Caspar hushed and comforted her as well as he could, speaking sometimes +English and sometimes German in his perplexity. At last, he hit on an +expedient. + +"I wish you could stop crying," said he, "because I want you to help me +about supper." + +The thought of being useful brought comfort to Kitty's soul. She looked +up from Caspar's bosom, where she had hidden her head, and wiped her +eyes with what remained of her frock. + +"You are very good to like me when I cry so much," said she. "I can't +bear children that cry, myself. There, now! I am good. What shall I do?" + +"You may pick the bird's feathers off if you like, while I make the +fire." + +A very satisfactory fire, kindled by Caspar's tinder-box, was soon +roaring up the long-unused chimney. Caspar brought in all the pine +knots and what wood he could find without going too far away, arranged +a bed of straw covered with pine boughs, and finding the shutter which +had once closed the window, he barricaded that and the broken door as +well as he could. Then he broiled on the coals the bird, which Kitty +had picked very neatly. It was not much of a supper for two, but it was +far better than nothing, and Kitty grew quite cheerful over it. Supper +over, he proposed that she should go to bed. + +"I must say my prayers first," said Kitty. "Will you hear me?" + +"Truly I will, little dear." + +And Kitty knelt down and said her prayers, ending with, "God bless my +father and that good man who saved his life!" + +"Who saved your father's life, Kitty?" asked Caspar as he arranged her +straw bed. + +"I don't know his name, but he was a good man, and my father gave him +his watch with my picture in it. I don't think he should have given +away my picture, though, do you?" + +"Perhaps he had no time to take it out," said Caspar, greatly +wondering. So this was Jonathan Elmer's child? + +"Oh, well, I dare say he did not mean any harm. Aunt Deborah says men +are naturally inconsiderate." And with this wise remark, Kitty lay +down, and went to sleep as suddenly as a bird tucks its head under its +wing. + +Caspar had thought himself very sleepy, but the disposition to sleep +had vanished with the opportunity of gratifying it, and he had never +been more wide awake in his life. The thunder-storm had come up very +quickly, and though the sun had hardly set, it was already very dark. +The thunder rolled nearer and nearer, and the wind roared furiously +among the trees, so that Caspar congratulated himself more than ever on +the shelter of the old cabin. He heaped up the fire and kept his ears +open, for he remembered the bear, and feared there might be other wild +animals in the neighbourhood. He took out his Bible and tried to read, +but the light was too uncertain, so he put up the book and fell to +musing on his present condition. + +"Certainly, the last thing I thought of was finding myself in such a +place as this. It seems as if I had been sent on purpose to save the +child. Little Gustaf must be about her age. I am thankful I came in +time to save her from a horrible death. She must be the child of my +friend the smith, who was no more a smith than I am a general. I wish +I could sleep; I shall be good for nothing to-morrow. I am beholden to +him for the use of his watch." + +He took out his watch and wound it up, looking at the picture as he did +so. It certainly was very much like Kitty. + +The storm seemed to be over. He made up the fire anew with knots +and dry sticks, and lay down across the door in Indian fashion, so +that nothing could enter. He was just dropping off to sleep when he +started at some noise, and came broad awake again. He listened. It was +repeated—a loud shout, and then, "Kitty! Kitty Elmer!" + +"They have come to look for the child," was his instant thought. He +sprang to the door and shouted loudly. + +The answer came back from no great distance: "Where are you?" + +"This way—in the—" Caspar could not remember the word for clearing, so +he shouted again. + +He heard the noise of approaching steps, and in a minute two or three +men burst through the bushes and rushed up to the cabin. + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +_NEW FRIENDS AND NEW FOES._ + +"HERE is she? Where is the child?" asked two or three together. + +"In there, asleep," answered Caspar, pointing over his shoulder to +where Kitty lay, unawakened by the noise. + +"Thank the Lord!" said one, a hard-featured, preternaturally +solemn-looking man. "I never hoped to see her alive again. Are you sure +she is living, and not dead?" + +"She is surely living unless she has died within half an hour," said +Caspar. + +"And where did thee find her, friend?" asked the solemn man, after he +had looked at Kitty and satisfied himself that she was indeed alive. + +"Some miles below here, on the bank of the river. She told me she had +been out all night." + +"And why didn't you bring her right home, instead of camping down +here?" asked one of the men who had spoken first, in a loud, harsh +voice. + +"Because I was tired with carrying her and did not know my way; and +besides, seeing that a storm was coming up, I judged it better not to +leave a shelter I was sure of." + +"Yes, that is a likely story!" said the loud-voiced man. "I believe you +meant to carry her off and sell her." + +"Joses Dandy, if it wasn't against Scripture, I would certainly call +thee a fool," said the solemn man. "Why should the man have answered +our shouts if he had wished to steal the child? And why should he be +going up the river instead of down? Can thee answer me that?" + +Apparently, Joses Dandy could not, for he began on another tack. + +"And who are you, any way?" he asked, turning again to Caspar. + +"Never mind that now," said the other man. "We must fire our pieces to +let our friends know the child is found." + +The pieces were fired, and in a few minutes, three or four more men +made their way to the scene of action. + +"What is it? Where is the child?" asked one and another. "Is she found? +Is she alive?" + +"Alive and well, and sound asleep in there," answered the solemn man. + +"And this man here says he found her, and was bringing her home, but +I don't believe a word of it," said Joses Dandy, who seemed to have +conceived an enmity at first sight against Caspar. "I believe the man +is a British spy and meant to steal the child." + +"A likely thing for a spy to do!" observed the solemn man. + +"Any way, the man is a Hessian by his tongue, and he looks like a +soldier," observed another of the party. + +"Just so, and I know him. He is a regimental smith," said Joses. "I saw +him in Philadelphia last month. He is just a spy come to spy out the +nakedness of the land, and it is all fudge about his finding the child." + +"And what was thee doing in Philadelphia, I should like to know?" asked +the solemn man. + +Joses did not find it convenient to hear the question: + +"I say hang him up and be done with him!" + +"I say so too," said another, who seemed to be somewhat drunk. "The +Hessians burnt my grandfather's house and shot down the poor old man in +cold blood. Spy or not, I say hang him up without judge or jury! I wish +we could hang all the rest with him." + +"That's what I say," added Joses. "Hang him up at once!" + +"I wouldn't say quite so much about hanging if I was thee, Joses +Dandy," said a young man who had hardly spoken before. "If we were to +hang up every one whose loyalty was suspected, thy women-folks might +have to wait breakfast for thee longer than was convenient. What I want +to know is how thee came to see him in the city?" + +"Anyhow, we can search him and see what he has about him." + +The proposition was acceded to. Caspar now gave himself up for lost, +but he remained perfectly passive, while the search proceeded pretty +roughly. + +"Here's a pass from Clinton himself," said the loud-voiced man. "What +do you say now, Recompense Joake?" + +"Just what I did before," answered the solemn man, his face, however, +lengthening perceptibly. + +"And here's a list of names," said another, "and in the same +handwriting. What does this mean?" + +"What signifies what it means?" said Joses, hastily. "Haven't we enough +to convict him? Hang him up, I say, and have done with him." + +"Take me out of sight and hearing of the child, any way," said Caspar. + +"Oh, thee will keep; there's no such hurry," said the young man, who +was called Thomas Whitecar. "Here we are, six men against one; and +besides, thee has a right to be heard in thy own defence. Let us see +this list.—Hold up the lanthorn, Recompense.—Well, here's thy name +first of all, Joses Dandy. I should like to know the meaning of that?" + +At this moment the search was interrupted. Kitty, sleeping the sound +sleep of tired childhood, had heard none of the noise for a while, but +at last the sound of the loud talking made its way to her brain. She +woke, sat up, and looked around her, quite bewildered at first, but +presently remembering all about it. + +"Where are you, Mr. Hessian?" she called. + +Receiving no answer, she made her way to the door, and beheld her +friend in the hands of men who were evidently treating him roughly +enough. Kitty did not know what fear was. With one bound, she was in +the midst of the group and had her arms clasped tight round Caspar's +body. + +"Touch him if you dare!" said she, her great gray eyes flashing fire. +"What are you doing to him? There! He drove away the bear and tied up +my feet and all, and that's the way you use him—to pull off his coat +and his shoes, and make him catch cold in the wet!—Recompense Joake, +see if I don't tell father of you when he comes!" + +The men looked at each other. + +"What was it about the bear, Kitty?" asked Thomas Whitecar. + +Kitty told her story, which we have already heard, and which lost +nothing by her way of telling it. + +"And he tied up my feet real good; and when I couldn't walk, he +carried me in his arms miles upon miles, and then he cooked a bird for +my supper, and gave me every bit of the biscuit—yes, every bit. He +wouldn't take one crumb, and he made me a nice bed; and that's the way +you serve him!" cried Kitty, in a tempest of wrath.—"Recompense Joake, +I'll never speak to you again as long as I live—so there! Just see if I +tell you any more stories, that's all." + +"Well, now, Kitty, if it wasn't wrong, I could be put out with thee," +said Recompense, seriously aggrieved, as it seemed, by Kitty's threat. +"Haven't I been out all night and all day looking for thee, say?" + +"Why didn't you look in the right place, then?" asked Kitty, no ways +appeased.—"Oh, Cousin Thomas, you won't let them hurt him, will you?" + +"Not if I can help it, Kitty," answered Thomas. + +"But you shall help it or I'll—I'll kill somebody myself. I'll run +right away and get lost again, and tell General Washington of you—yes, +and Aunt Deborah too!" cried Kitty, heaping threat upon threat, and +keeping fast hold of Caspar. + +"I say hang him up! Who minds what a child says?" said Joses Dandy. "I +dare say he put the story in her mouth. I know the man, I tell you. I +saw him myself shoeing a big white horse for one of the officers of the +Waldeckers, as they call them." + +"And pray where was thee when thee saw him?" asked Recompense Joake. + +"He was selling fresh eggs at a shilling apiece to some of the English +officers," said Caspar, quietly. + +All the time he had been haunted with the idea that he had seen the +man before, and the mention of the big white horse brought back to his +mind an egg-and-butter peddler who had asked and obtained an exorbitant +price for his wares. + +"Oh, ho!" exclaimed Thomas Whitecar. "What's that?" + +Caspar repeated the story, which Joses noisily denied, declaring the +man was only trying to save his own neck, and deserved hanging more +than ever. + +"Nonsense!" said Thomas Whitecar. "We can't hang a man who has just +saved the child's life, and that without any authority or examination. +I for one want to know how thy name came into this list of Tories in +West Jersey, for that is what it is." + +"Just so," said Recompense Joake. "And about this peddling business? If +it wasn't against the testimony of Friends to bet, I'd bet something +that thee sold to the British in Philadelphia the provisions the women +got together to send to the sick in our army. I, for one, should like +to hear what this Hessian has to say about that. I think things look +rather black for thee, Joses." + +"Anyhow, friends, I vote we take the man home with us and keep him till +we can consult Captain Elmer. As Recompense says, I want to hear about +this peddling business," said Thomas: "I've had my suspicions before." + +"Jonathan Elmer!" repeated Caspar. + +"Yes, Jonathan Elmer," said Recompense. "Thee seems to know the name." + +"I do, and he knows me," replied Caspar, a ray of hope arising at +the name of his former assistant. "Bring me face to face with him, I +beseech you; I ask nothing better. Is he of these parts?" + +"Yes; he lives in Bridgeton. This is his child thee has saved.—Come, +friends, let us turn toward home.—Kitty, shall I carry thee?" + +"No, indeed, thank you!" replied Kitty, disdainfully. "I don't want any +one to carry me only Mr. Hessian.—But maybe you are too tired?" she +added, looking up in her friend's face. "You carried me so long this +morning. Don't your arms ache?" + +"Not a bit!" answered Caspar, taking her up and kissing her. "I am in +your hands, comrades," he added, with a smile. "You see I am in no case +to run away." + +"And that is true. I believe you are an honest fellow, though +appearances are against you," said the young man who had been most +violent against Caspar. "But you needn't wonder that we hate the +Hessians, we Jersey folks.—But I say, friends, what's come of Dandy?" + +"Sure enough!" said another. "I believe he has slipped away. I've a +notion we sha'n't see him again very soon. The rascal! To get so much +credit for carrying provisions to our own camp, while all the time he +was making money by supplying the British! No wonder he was for hanging +this man here in a hurry." + +"How far are we from the child's home?" asked Caspar. + +"Only about two miles." + +It is needless to say with what joy Kitty's arrival was greeted. Her +first question was whether her father had come home. + +"Yes, he came last night, and is out looking for thee," said her aunt. +"Oh, Kitty, Kitty! How much trouble thee has made just because thee +wouldn't mind!" + +"I know I have been very naughty," said Kitty, penitently, "and I +won't ever do so again—not even if you won't take me to meeting, Aunt +Deborah. Oh dear! I wish father would come. I want to tell him how Mr. +Hessian drove away the bear." + +"Thou shouldst call me Caspar, my child," said Caspar. + +"Well, Caspar, then!—And won't you give him something real nice to eat, +Aunt Deborah, because he gave me almost all the supper there was?" + +"Yes, yes! We will see to that. So he found thee in the woods?" + +Kitty told her tale over again to admiring listeners, and Caspar found +himself promoted from the position of a suspected prisoner to that of +a hero. A comfortable room was assigned to him for a prison, if so +it could be called, and a savoury hot supper sent up to him. It was +the most homelike meal he had seen in many a day, but somehow, though +parched with thirst, he felt no disposition to eat. He had just emptied +the pitcher of home-brewed beer when Recompense Joake presented his +solemn face at the door: + +"Has thee got everything comfortable?" + +"Everything, thank you." + +"I have brought thee a pipe and some tobacco," said his friend, +advancing into the room and closing the door. "I don't smoke myself, +but I know how much people who do are attached to the weed." + +"I don't smoke, either, for a wonder," answered Caspar, "but I thank +you all the same." + +Recompense still lingered, arranging the fire, and Caspar, who longed +to be alone, wondered when he was going. + +At last, Recompense drew close to him and said, in a low tone,— + +"Friend, I'm not just clear that I am in the path of duty, but I reckon +I'll risk it, seeing you saved the child." + +"Risk what?" asked Caspar. + +"Well, risk going a little grain out of the way for thee. If thee would +rather get away before the captain comes home, there's that window +opens out on the roof of the shed. It's only five feet from the ground, +and there's a boat down by the landing with the oars in it. Does thee +understand?" + +"I understand," said Caspar, seeing what was the drift of the +good-natured Quaker. "You mean to let me get away." + +"Just so. I won't take it upon me to advise thee. Thee can do as +thee likes, of course. But if thee shouldn't think best to run any +risks—Thee sees thy people have done a good many hard things in the +Jerseys, and folks is naturally put out. Of course we expect the +British to fight us, but when it comes to folks we never had any +quarrel with, and never did anything to, coming over and abusing our +women-folks and stealing our goods—well, if it wasn't against the +testimony of Friends, I don't say but I should feel like fighting +myself." + +"But you see, we can't help it," said Caspar. "Nobody asked us if we +would come. Our king sold us to the English king, and we couldn't help +ourselves. I was carried away from my family, and never allowed even to +bid them good-bye." + +"Then, if I was thee, and didn't see it to be against my conscience, +I'd run away first chance I got. Well, good-night! I thought I'd tell +thee, and thee could do as thee liked. Good-night! I hope thee 'll +sleep." + +It was kind to hope so, but there was little chance of the hope being +realized. Caspar's mind was in a whirl of excitement trying to decide +upon his course. He might escape, it was true; but reviewing all the +circumstances, he thought the chances were against him. It must be +nearly morning already. He would soon be missed and pursued, and were +he retaken, he could hardly hope for mercy. On the other side of the +river, he might possibly find shelter with some Tory family, had he +only known where to look for them, but he had lost his list, and could +not remember a single name save that of Joses Dandy, who seemed more +likely to want protection than to afford it. He rose and went to the +window, which opened easily enough. It was already growing light. + + "Heaven help me, for I am in a sore strait!" was his prayer. + +He leaned for a few minutes against the window-frame. Then he spoke +aloud in German: + +"No, I will not try to get away. This man Elmer owes me two lives—his +own and his child's. It will go hard but he will find some way to save +me if I tell him the truth. I have prayed that a way might be opened +for me to leave the army, and it may be this is the answer to my +prayer." + +Caspar knelt down and prayed earnestly for a few minutes. Then he +extinguished his light and threw himself on Deborah Whitecar's clean +and soft feather bed. His head ached and he felt strangely tired and +excited, but after a time he fell into a troubled sleep. + +It was broad day when he awoke, and for some minutes he could not +remember what had happened or where he was. He felt weak and unnerved, +and almost as if he were out of the body. What in the world had +happened to his hands to make them so thin and white? And why did he +find such a difficulty in turning himself over? He looked about him. +He felt sure this was not the room in which he had gone to sleep. It +was a larger and better-furnished apartment, and his bed had full white +curtains. + +A middle-aged woman in a muslin cap and a wonderfully neat plain dress +sat knitting at the side of his bed, and rose as his eye met hers. + +"Thee is better?" said she, taking his hand into her soft fingers and +feeling his pulse. "The doctor said he thought thee would be all right +on waking.—Kitty, thee may tell Discretion to bring the broth." + +"Better! Have I been ill?" asked Caspar, bewildered. + +"Hush! Thee mustn't talk. Yes, thee has been sick abed fur three weeks, +and out of thy head all the time. Thee 'll hear all about it when thee +is better. Now thee must take thy broth, and perhaps thee may sleep +again." + +Caspar took the delicate broth which his nurse held to his lips, and +then, sinking back on his pillows, he began to try to think a little. +He seemed to remember now that some time had passed, that he had seen +people about him whom he did not know, and that he had heard some one +say,— + +"I think he will live through it." + +But thinking was hard and sleepy work, and he soon dropped off again. +When he woke, the setting sun was sending rays through the closed +blinds, and his nurse was standing by the bed with a gentleman who was +engaged in feeling his pulse. + +"Well, my man, you have come out on the right side this time," said the +doctor, cheerfully. "You must have a pretty good constitution. I don't +see anything now to hinder you getting well directly." + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +_NEWS AND PLANS._ + +FOR several days Caspar lay in Deborah Whitecar's best bed, very weak +and languid and comfortable, and decidedly indisposed to any greater +mental or physical exertion than that of taking his broth and answering +the doctor's questions, or speculating idly on the bit of landscape and +river which he could see out of his window. + +Then he began to recover rapidly, to feel a profound interest in the +dinner-hour, to sit up while his bed was made, and at last, to Kitty's +great delight, to be dressed and walk to the window. His mind was now +quite clear as to all that had happened up to the time when Recompense +Joake visited him in his room and showed him how he might escape. After +that, everything was in a fog. He dimly remembered hearing voices about +him, especially Kitty's, and being well cared for, but that was all. +His nurse, though kindness itself, was very peremptory and would not +allow him to talk, and even Kitty would only answer all his inquiries +by laying her small finger on her lip, and, if he persisted, by +vanishing from the room. + +One day, he was sitting by his window looking out at the winding river +and the pretty village, of which he could see a bit on the other side. +He was feeling more than commonly downhearted and lonely. He had never +been seriously ill in all his life before; he did not know what to +make of the weakness which oppressed him; and, like most men under +similar circumstances, he thought he should never be any better. He +had heard no public news, and nobody had given him a hint as to what +was to be done with him. In this mournful case he was sitting, leaning +both elbows on the window-sill with his head on his hands, when he was +aroused by a cheerful voice behind him: + +"Well, this is an improvement on the last time I saw you, but you would +hardly handle a sledge as well as at our first meeting." + +Caspar looked round to see a gentleman whose face he seemed dimly to +remember, though he could not at first tell where they had met. + +"You are in a fog, I see," said the stranger, smiling. "Don't you +remember the Mischianza and the assistant Major André found for you?" + +"And you are Jonathan Elmer?" said Caspar, shaking the hand the other +held out to him. + +"Yes, and your friend Kitty's father. I little thought, when we parted +in Philadelphia that night, how we should meet again. How are you +feeling?" + +"Very much better, thank you, if only I could gain strength." + +"You will soon do that when you are able to get out of doors. Do you +feel equal to a little talk about your own and public affairs?" + +"Oh yes, indeed!" answered Caspar, eagerly. "I have so longed to hear +some news! But first tell me how you escaped." + +"Easily enough," answered Captain Elmer. "In fact, I had no need to +escape, for no one had thought of suspecting me. I went home to my +lodging, and the next morning, having gained all the information I +wanted, I walked away as I had come, made a circuit, and joined my +regiment. And now, in return for my story, tell me how you came hither, +for I don't suppose you came 'on purpose' to drive away the bear, as +Kitty says." + +Caspar replied by detailing the circumstances with which the reader is +already acquainted. + +"Then you really were a spy as well as myself, though not so +successful. I remember that fine Major André saying that you would do +good service in that line." + +"It was not Major André, but one of our own officers, to whom I was +indebted," said Caspar. "I had no choice, you know: I had to obey +orders." + +"That is of course. But what do you mean to do now?" + +"That is not for me to say. I am a prisoner, and I suppose under +sentence of death." + +"Hardly as bad as that," said Captain Elmer, smiling. "It is true that +death is usually the portion of a detected spy, but circumstances +alter cases. In the first place, you saved my own life and my child's. +In the second, you have acquired no information; and if you had, you +have had no chance to communicate it, and it would be of no use to +your commander as things are at present. Neither do I suppose you are +possessed of any knowledge which would be of use to us." + +"If I have, I would not give it you," said Caspar. "I have no wish +to return to the British service, but nothing shall induce me to act +against my old comrades." + +"There is no need," said Captain Elmer. "I suppose you have heard no +public news." + +"Not a word." + +"Then you don't know that Sir Henry Clinton has evacuated Philadelphia +a month ago, and been beaten by the American forces on his way across +the Jerseys?" + +"Beaten!" Caspar's face expressed the surprise he felt. + +"Why, yes, it amounted to that. The Americans encamped upon the ground, +and Sir Henry ran away in the night. That looks like being beaten, +doesn't it?" + +"It certainly does; and yet I hardly know how to believe it. I wonder +what old Von Falkenstein said?" + +"I fancy there were plenty of hard things said on both sides. The +triumph would have been much greater only for Lee's conduct." + +"And the Americans are in Philadelphia?" said Caspar, as if he could +not yet believe the news. + +"Yes, and a good many of your own countrymen besides." + +"Prisoners?" + +"No; deserters. It was curious to see the poor fellows creeping out of +every hole and corner, some of them half-starved. There have been still +more desertions on the line of march." + +"I can hardly blame my countrymen, though I could not make up my own +mind to desert," said Caspar. "I don't very well see how I can return +now if I wish it ever so much." + +"Under other circumstances you might be exchanged," said Captain Elmer. +"As it is, such a move might provoke inconvenient inquiries. My serious +advice to you, Reinhart, is to remain where you are till your strength +returns, and then go to work at your trade. You will find no trouble +in supporting yourself and laying up money.—I think you said you had a +wife and family?" + +"Yes; I have, or had, a wife and four children at home." + +"Well, this war cannot last for ever, and it can end only in one way," +said Captain Elmer, who, like most Americans, had not the slightest +doubt of the success of his country's cause. * + + * This hopeful spirit was never stronger than in the darkest days of +the Revolution. + +"By that time, you may probably have enough beforehand to send for your +wife and children, and settle yourselves comfortably where your boys +can grow up in a free country and be as good as anybody." + +Caspar drew a deep breath. + +"That sounds very nice," said he; "but—" + +"Well, but what?" + +"I can hardly tell," said Caspar, "but the future looks dark to me. I +fear I shall never do a day's work again." + +"Nonsense! You will be as well as ever in a month." + +"And where shall I find work, supposing I am able to do it?" + +"Where shall you not find it, you might better say," returned Captain +Elmer, with a little impatience. "Anywhere! Here in Greenwich—up in +Bridgeton, where the greatest fool that ever slung a sledge is worth +his weight in gold, let alone a clever workman like yourself. There is +my uncle's forge suffering for want of a journeyman this minute. Don't +be so downhearted, man!" + +"See here, Jonathan Elmer: if it wasn't interfering with thy +arrangements, I should say thee was making Caspar talk more than was +good for him, considering that he has been sitting up all the morning +without anything to eat. Hadn't thee better stop now and let him have +something?" said Recompense Joake, appearing at the door with his usual +long face and a tray filled with good things for his patient. + +"I dare say you are right," said Captain Elmer.—"Reinhart, why didn't +you tell me I was tiring you to death?" + +"If thee wasn't inexperienced in the ways of sick folks, I should say +that was a foolish question," said Recompense, who seemed to find it +necessary to put all his propositions hypothetically, as the logicians +say. As he spoke, he quietly and quickly brought a small stand to +the side of Caspar's arm-chair, arranged his provisions thereon, and +brought the patient a basin of cool water to refresh his face and hands +before eating. + +"I declare, Recompense, you are a jewel!" said the captain, struck +with admiration. "You are as handy as an old woman. You ought to be +head-nurse in a hospital." + +"My mother used to say there was a corner for every crooked stick if it +could only be found," answered Recompense, busily cutting a delicate +little broiled chicken into pieces of convenient size and pouring out a +fragrant cup of spearmint tea. "I was always reckoned handy about sick +folks, though I ain't very smart other ways. Thee 'd better come away +now and let the man eat his dinner in peace. He has had talk enough for +one day." + +"He is getting on pretty well, isn't he?" asked Captain Elmer as they +descended the stairs from Caspar's room. + +"Well, middling," answered Recompense, with a true nurse's +unwillingness to say that his patient was improving. "I've seen them +get on faster, and I've seen them not so fast." + +"I'm sorry he is so downhearted." + +"Oh, thee needn't mind that. He will feel quite different when he has +eaten his dinner and had a nap. Thee gave him rather too great a dose +of talk with thy news and thy plans." + +"I dare say I was stupid," said the captain, apologetically, "but I had +thought it all over so many times, and he never said he was tired." + +"Of course he didn't. Sick folks hardly ever do; and there's where well +folks have got to look out for them. However, I don't think there's any +harm done.—Has thee settled his matters, think?" + +"Oh yes. There won't be any trouble, seeing that Clinton is out of the +way and all Jersey is in our hands for the present," answered Captain +Elmer. "There is nothing to hinder his going to work at his trade +either here in Greenwich or at Bridgeton, but I should advise the +latter, as being rather more out of the way." + +"And thee thinks he won't be liable to be taken and hung for a +deserter?" + +"Not unless he takes a great deal of pains to bring it about. Clinton +would have his hands fuller than they are now if he should undertake +to catch and hang all the men that have deserted in his march across +Jersey. Reinhart might go to Philadelphia without danger, but I believe +he will do as well, or better, in Bridgeton." + +As Recompense had predicted, Caspar was ready to take a brighter view +of his circumstances after he had eaten his broiled chicken. The +prospect which his friend held out to him was certainly alluring. +The trade of war was utterly hateful to him, and particularly so the +business of war and oppression, in which his countrymen were so largely +engaged. He enjoyed the thought of returning to his old trade and +living in peace with all mankind once more. Money, it was true, was +likely to be scarce in the colonies, but it would go hard but he would +lay up enough to purchase a bit of land, build himself a house, and +make a home ready for his wife and the children against the time when +he could send for them. + +The thought of never seeing Nonnenwald again gave him for the present +little concern. He had no near relatives; both his brothers had been +killed in the Seven Years' War, into which they had been forced as he +had been into his late situation. He could not be expected to feel very +much loyalty toward his sovereign. No; he would make a home in this +New World for himself and his family—such a house as he could see from +his window on the other side of the river. He would buy a cow or two, +and—But here the cows began to multiply themselves unaccountably, and +the landgrave of Hesse to appear on the scene in the shape of a fat +pig urgently begging not to be sold to Joses Dandy. In short, Caspar +fell sound asleep in the midst of his day-dreams, and awoke mightily +refreshed and able to take as reasonable a view of matters as his +friend could desire. + +The next day he was taken out for a drive, and the next he crept out +for a little walk round the garden, leaning on the arm of his faithful +nurse and accompanied by Kitty, whose delight at the recovery of her +friend was unbounded. She had quite made up her quarrel with Recompense +Joake, though they now and then had a little passage-at-arms. Caspar +found much to admire and wonder at, and his companions had enough to do +to answer his questions. The walk did him no harm, and the next day he +was able to go down to the river-side. + + +Caspar now gained strength rapidly, and began to try his hand at little +bits of work. He made a fine cradle for Kitty's doll. He mended all the +hinges about the place, and treated a case of complicated disorder in +the head of Deborah's spinning-wheel to the admiration of everybody. +He took lessons in English, and read all the books in the house, and +told stories about things in the old country, till Kitty clapped her +hands with delight, and Recompense declared that if it were not a sin +to repine, he should feel to be discontented at having seen so little +of the world. Nay, it is said that worthy was actually heard to laugh +aloud, thereby contradicting the notion prevalent among his friends +that he did not know how to perform that operation. + +Before the end of the summer months Caspar was settled in Bridgeton, +and as busily engaged in shoeing horses and mending disabled wheels as +he had ever been at his forge in Nonnenwald. He found, indeed, that he +had a good deal to learn of American ways and customs, but in return he +was able to give some valuable hints to his employer. He found that he +was not so strong as he had been, and that the sledge-hammer was rather +heavy. He cast about for some lighter work, and, discovering a good +lathe which was disused because its former owner had been killed in the +army, he bought it, put it in order, and proposed to his friend and +employer that they should set up the business of making and repairing +spinning-wheels, reels, and so forth. The venture was prosperous. He +found his hands full of work, and seemed likely to become rich enough +before long to purchase the place which he had already in his eye. + +He had only one serious trouble, and it was a very great one: he had +never heard a word from his family. He had written again and again, and +Captain Elmer had given his letters to some of his friends among the +French officers, on the chance of their going through France, but all +in vain. Not a word came in reply. There was no such thing possible as +going home. All that could be done was to wait with what patience and +fortitude he could muster for that "end of the war" which every one +prophesied, and which seemed every year to be farther off than ever. He +was not without his comforts by the way, as who is who walks through +the wilderness of this world with his eyes fixed on the Zion to which +he has set his face? + +It was a comfort to conquer the good-will of his neighbours, who, +it must be confessed, were at first much disposed to treat him as a +suspicious character, if not as a downright enemy. It was a comfort to +make the first payment on the little wooden house with its tall upper +story and picturesque cool "summer kitchen," characteristic of West +Jersey houses, and to go over the same and plan out little additions +to its beauty and convenience—to plant grapevines and currant-bushes +and rose trees and yellow honeysuckles to fill the air with fragrance; +to make a neat fence and plant a row of linden trees before the door, +and to whitewash everything with snowy shell-lime in true West Jersey +fashion. + +By and by, he found a still greater comfort. There were in the +neighbourhood of Bridgeton several German families who had come in and +taken up small pieces of land shortly before the war. They were very +poor and ignorant, and the children were growing up utterly wild and +untrained. It occurred to Caspar that here was a place to do something +for that Master who had done so much for him. It was perhaps too late +to do very much with the parents, but there were the children—such a +flock of them! Might they not be got together in some sort of school +and taught to read their Bibles and to speak good English? It was not +easy at first to gain the confidence of the children or the consent of +their parents to any such plan, but the common language was a great +help, and at last Caspar carried his point. + +Sunday-schools, in the present sense, were unknown, but Caspar +succeeded after a while in collecting together the urchins of the +settlement for an hour or more on Sunday afternoon to teach them to +read and to read to them out of the Bible. Presently, the spirit of +ambition was roused, and some of them began to be eager to make more +progress than was possible with a lesson once a week. Caspar could not +be spared in the daytime, but his evenings were free. Three times a +week he walked through the woods to the little settlement to hold an +evening-school among his German friends. + +There were not wanting some who smiled at his zeal, and others who +plainly hinted that Caspar was not likely to take so much trouble for +nothing, and that, most probably, some kind of plot was forming—perhaps +to bring the Hessians down and burn the town. But in general, people +had learned to believe in him, and his school proceeded in peace and +increased in usefulness day by day. + +On the nineteenth of October, 1781, the English forces at Yorktown +under Lord Cornwallis surrendered, and the war was virtually at an end, +but it was not till the twentieth of January, 1783, that the treaty +of peace was formally and finally signed at Paris. The news reached +Congress on the twenty-third of March, and soon spread through the +country. + +When Caspar heard that peace was proclaimed, he felt that he could wait +no longer. He must obtain news of his family at any risk. He resolved +to go to Philadelphia, and if needful to New York, find out some vessel +sailing to Europe, and proceed at least to some point near his former +home from which he could communicate with his family. He had abundance +of money for the purpose, and only waited till he could leave his +former employer and present partner without too much inconvenience, +and find a suitable tenant for his house to keep it in order till his +return. + + + +CHAPTER IX. + +_NONNENWALD._ + +WE must now return to Nonnenwald and the family of Gertrude Reinhart. + +Gertrude had never wavered in her determination to go to America. For +this end she saved and economized in every corner and worked almost +night and day. She made butter and sold it, raised fowls and calves and +fatted them for market; and when there was nothing else to be done, +her flax-wheel was never idle. Meantime, she and her children ate the +plainest food and wore their old clothes as long as they could be +kept decent. Once possessed of an object to work for beyond the mere +keeping of soul and body together, her spirits returned and increased +with her toil, and every one remarked how well Gertrude Reinhart was +looking, notwithstanding the fact that her light never seemed to go out +by night, and she worked in the field like a man—a thing she had never +done while her husband was at home. + +Circumstances favoured her. A legacy from a distant relation enabled +her to buy back the cows she had sold. The landgrave, moved by a tardy +sense of justice, exempted from all taxes the families of the soldiers +fighting in America. She found a ready sale for all her wares in the +market at Fulda. No butter was so hard and yellow as hers, no cheese so +well pressed and flavoured, and her fine thread was eagerly sought by +the traders and by the lace-makers. She soon had money out at interest, +and the interest was constantly added to the principal. + +People said truly that Gertrude was growing a rich woman, and they +added what was not true—that as she grew rich she became stingy in +proportion. Gertrude was not stingy. The poor village idiot, the poor +widow whose only son had been carried away to die of fever before he +was fairly embarked for America, could have told a different story. So +could the pastor, if he had chosen, but he was at this time most deeply +interested in the heresies of the third century; and, though he did not +forget to dispense the alms Gertrude put into his hand, he did forget +where they came from, and very likely thought they rained down from the +clouds like manna. + +Of course the children had their share in the sacrifice. Gustaf was a +hardy little fellow. He went to the village school, fed the hens, drove +up the cows, and spent his spare time in any amusement which gave him +the luxury of perpetual motion in the open air. He never lacked an +appetite for his black bread and milk morning and night and his cabbage +soup in the middle of the day, and took no trouble about his clothes +so long as they were not fine enough to be hurt by birds-nesting in +the woods or crystal-hunting in the torrent-beds on the mountain-side. +He was a good and pleasant child, who always did well everything that +could be done with hands; but he groaned sadly over his books, and the +schoolmaster declared that all the birch-rods that ever grew in the +Thuringerwald could never make a scholar of him. Uncle Franz had done +more for him by promising to teach him the use of the rifle as soon as +he could do a sum in compound division, and under the influence of that +stimulus, Gustaf was making fair progress with his arithmetic. + +Greta had begun with great enthusiasm the work of making and saving +money, but perhaps she had not altogether counted the cost, for she +was certainly growing rather tired of it. She had not realized that +saving money to go to America meant wearing her last winter's frock, +and buying no new ribbons, and laying aside her beloved lace-making +for the more profitable work of feeding calves and hens and spinning +woollen yarn. She had always considered herself somewhat superior +to her cousins and the other village-girls of her own age, but this +superiority somehow did not prevent her feeling mortified when Lenchen +had a new stuff gown and petticoat and Truda a new red cloak of fine +cloth, while she must furbish up the gown she had worn two years +already and wrap herself in the cloak which was already threadbare. The +very fact that she was vexed at such a little matter vexed her all the +more, as it showed her that she was not quite the grand person she had +believed herself to be, and certainly did not tend to make her more +amiable. + +If people could only have known "why" she did not go to the +ribbon-peddler's booth at the fair and wore her old clothes, she should +not have minded it so much; but Gertrude had thought it best to keep +her design a secret—at least till she saw some probability of putting +it into execution. Greta would not perhaps have been willing to give up +the design of going to America, but she did wish in her heart that it +had never been thought of. She began to think that perhaps life under +the landgrave might not be so insupportable, after all. + +Uncle Franz, who was growing old, had a young assistant, a certain +grand-nephew; and what was more natural than that he should often go +and see his relations, to give Philip a promising knot of wood for his +carving or carry to his aunt a pair of the rabbits or birds which in +the absence of the landgrave, who was growing rather fat for hunting, +were the perquisites of the huntsman? It was quite beautiful to see +what a dutiful step-nephew (if there be such a relation) Gertrude had +found in Louis Rosekranz. + +And Philip? Philip had grown large and strong, grave and manly. +Assisted by an old labourer who had worked for his father, he did most +of the labour of the little farm. His aim was to bring the place into +the best of order against the time when he should wish to sell it, +and meantime to make it produce enough for the support of the family. +He had so far succeeded very well. The apple-orchard, pruned and +cultivated once more, hung heavy with fruit, and the little vineyard +had never been more productive. By degrees everything about the place +was put into that state of perfect repair in which it had been Caspar's +pride to maintain it. Even the forge was once more in order, and, +rented to a responsible and industrious tenant, added its mite to the +family revenues. + +Philip had little time now for his favourite books, and his carving was +mostly limited to bowls and spoons of pear-tree and walnut wood, some +of them daintily ornamented with leaves and flowers and other devices, +which found a ready sale in Fulda and Eisenach. He had made the cross +for his little brother's grave and put it up in the churchyard. It was +much admired, and before long he found on his hands more orders for +crosses and tablets than he could fill in the long winter evenings, +which were mostly devoted to this work. + +He made it a rule to read a few lines every day of the Latin and +Greek which he had learned with his uncle—a habit which kept him from +forgetting entirely that which he had acquired, and which may be +practised with great advantage by people in like circumstances. If he +had any regrets or repinings, he kept them to himself or imparted than +to nobody but Brother Gotthold, still a frequent visitor at the little +stone cottage; and if he entertained any secret ambition, it was still +Brother Gotthold who was privy to it. In fact, a very warm and intimate +friendship existed between the old man and the young one. + + +Still the days went on, and no news came to the family at the stone +house of the husband and father they had lost. Other people had +letters, but, strangely enough, nobody said anything about Caspar +Reinhart. At last, late in the autumn of the year 1782, came news that +the regiment was coming home directly, that it had already landed and +was on its way through Prussia, and, finally, that the men would reach +their homes on All Saints' day, the first day of November. Everybody +was in a joyful bustle of preparation, but there were many sad hearts +sore with the loss of friends or sick with suspense, which scorned to +grow more dreadful as it came near being changed to certainty. + +Gertrude was one of the last of these. She would not admit even to +herself that she expected to see her husband. She had said again and +again to herself and to others that she was certain Caspar was dead, +since he had never written, and that she only refrained from putting on +mourning in deference to the feelings of her children. Nevertheless, +the news she heard came to her with a fearful shock, and it lost +nothing by the way in which she received it. + +Captain Burger's company was one of the last in the train which +entered the village on All Saints' day. The worthy captain was not in +a good-humour. He had missed the promotion which he had confidently +expected. He had not married a fortune, as he fully intended to do, +nor had he enriched himself with plunder, like some others. To do him +justice, the latter circumstance did not arise from any lack of zeal or +industry on his part, but rather to an inveterate habit of gambling. +In short, the doughty captain was under a cloud, and not unlikely to +remain so. + +"Your husband, woman? What should I know of your husband?" he answered, +roughly enough, when Gertrude questioned him. + +"What was his name?" + +"Caspar Reinhart—a smith from Nonnenwald," answered Gertrude, briefly. + +"Oh, Caspar Reinhart! Yes, yes, I remember," said he, pretending to +consider. "Oh yes! He deserted one fine day to escape the flogging he +richly merited, and was drowned in the bay. Never mind, good woman; I +dare say you may easily get another as good." + +Gertrude turned away with ashy cheeks and compressed lips, and went +into the house. She thought, as so many have thought under like +circumstances that she had given him up before; but giving up is not +so easy. Greta and Gustaf were drowned in tears, but Gertrude had no +tears to shed. She went about her housework as usual, but with such a +face that the neighbours who came to condole with her in her grief went +away scared at her unnatural composure and strange looks, and whispered +among themselves that Gertrude Reinhart was going mad. + +Later in the day, Philip came in. + +"Where is my mother?" he said to Greta, who was still sobbing in +passionate abandonment of grief. + +"She is out feeding the hens. I cannot tell what ails her," answered +Greta. "I cannot make her keep quiet or speak a word. Do try to see +what you can do. Perhaps she will hear you. Where have you been all +this thee?" + +"Gathering news," said Philip. "I did not believe that man's story, and +I have been asking my father's comrades about him.—Mother dear, will +you come here?" he called, stepping to the door. "I have something to +tell you." + +Philip's voice conveyed perhaps more of hopefulness than he felt. + +Gertrude came at once into the house, and sat down in the chair which +Philip placed for her. Her eyes were still dry and glittering, but her +colour changed and she looked less ghastly. + +"I have been talking with the men," Philip began, without any preface. +"That brute's news was not true, or at least not certain. Sergeant +Meyer tells me that my father did not desert, but was exchanged into +Von Falkenstein's troop of horse, where he was regimental smith." + +Gertrude drew a deep breath. + +"That wretch!" said Greta. "I should like to kill him." + +"Let him alone for a fool," said Philip. "Meyer says that so long as he +was with the regiment, my father bore the best character for steadiness +and good conduct; that he might have deserted a dozen times over if +he had chosen, and as hundreds did, but he was always at his post and +ready for duty; that no man could be braver in action, though he always +refused to help plunder and kill the poor country-people, and would +always protect the women and children when he could; and he believes +Burger spited him for that very reason." + +Gertrude's eyes had grown softer, and now overflowed with grateful +tears. + +"'I' never believed father would do anything dishonourable," said +Gustaf, proudly. "He might be killed, but he would never run away." + +"But you heard no certain news?" said Gertrude. + +"No. Meyer says the Waldeckers went south after they left Philadelphia, +and they never met again. The Waldeckers were in the last great +battle—Yorktown, I think they call it—where the great English lord +surrendered to the Americans. They came home two months ago, and +Colonel von Falkenstein, Meyer says, is living in his own home near +Waldeck. With your permission, dear mother, I will go thither, and it +will be hard, but I will obtain certain news of my father." + +"And how will you manage to gain access to him, my son? He is a great +man, I suppose." + +"I have thought of that," answered Philip. "Count von Meyren is Herr +von Falkenstein's own cousin, and they are great friends. I am sure he +will give me a letter to his cousin when I tell him why I want it. He +was always kind to me when I lived in Fulda. And even if I do not see +Herr von Falkenstein himself, I shall find plenty of old soldiers who +knew my father." + +"Bless thee, my son! Thou art thy father's own boy, and shalt do as +thou wilt," said Gertrude. "Anything is better than this uncertainty. +When will you set out?" + +"This very day, if Uncle Franz will lend me a horse and you will +furnish me with money. I can go to Fulda to-night, and see the count +to-morrow morning. Then I can set out on my journey to Waldeck +to-morrow afternoon." + +"I wish I could go," said Gustaf. + +"You must stay at home and take care of the mother and Greta," answered +Philip, his spirits rising, as they always did when he found anything +to do. "But if mother is willing, you shall come with me to Uncle Franz +to see if he will lend me the old gray." + +"You are very confident," said Greta, feeling a certain degree of +vexation for which she would have found it hard to account. "I don't +believe you will find it so easy to gain access to all these grand +people as you think. If you could persuade Louis Rosekranz to go—" She +paused, and was provoked to find herself colouring under Philip's look +and smile. + +"Louis Rosekranz is a good fellow, but I prefer to do my own business +myself, little sister," said Philip. "I know all the good old count's +ways exactly, even to the sunny terrace where I shall find him pacing +up and down with two dogs after him at nine o'clock to-morrow morning. +He never refuses to hear the poorest woman or child on his estate who +comes to him with a petition.—Come, Gustaf; there is no time to lose." + +Philip found his uncle overflowing with rage at Captain Burger, and +quite ready to lend him not only his best horse, but his best pair of +pistols into the bargain. + +Another good fortune awaited him at the lodge in the person of his old +friend, Count Maurice, who had come down for a few days' shooting. +Count Maurice had grown older and graver, and was dressed in mourning. +He remembered Philip directly, and on hearing the object of his +journey, he at once offered his assistance. + +"I know Von Falkenstein, and will give you a note to him, which will +save you so much time. He is a good-natured old man at heart, but you +must not be discouraged if he is crabbed at first. He is a good deal +like some of the stones of the mountain here—rough and hard without, +but pure and clear within.—I hear that your mother is living and doing +well. Does she still keep up her intention of going to America?" + +"Yes, Your Highness, but we do not speak of it yet. I hope Count Victor +is well?" + +Maurice's face saddened. + +"Victor has left me," said he. "He died in great peace and hope a +year ago. I may well do all I can for you, Philip, since to you was +indirectly owing the comfort which brightened my dear brother's last +days. But I cannot talk of it now. I am coming to see your mother +before I leave. Here is your uncle with the horse; and a grand old +fellow he is, with plenty of fire in him still. Are you sure you are +equal to managing him?" + +"I think so, Your Highness!" + +"Philip? He will handle any horse that ever stepped, as quiet as he +looks," said Franz as he put the bridle into Philip's hands.—"There, +my boy! Good luck go with you!—There goes as fine a young fellow as +ever stepped on shoe-leather," he added as Philip rode away. "Not a bit +of show or bravado about him, but always prompt and ready for action, +whatever it may be. His father was just so before him." + + +Philip made his journey in two days and part of another, and arrived at +Waldeck in the afternoon. He put up his horse at a decent little inn, +and after taking some refreshment and getting rid of the soil of the +journey, he asked his way to Herr von Falkenstein's house. + +"You have but to follow your nose up the street and you come to the +gates as soon as you cross the bridge," answered the host. "The old +Herr is at home, I know, for I saw him this very day." + +Philip found his way easily enough; and accosting the first domestic he +met, he made known to him his desire to speak with his master. + +"And who are you who desire to see the Herr?" asked the man, with some +insolence. "Do you think he is to be at the beck and call of every +booby, like a country doctor?" + +"I have a letter and message for him from Count Maurice of Nassau," +answered Philip, keeping his temper, though the man's manner was +sufficiently provoking. + +"Well, give them to me, and I will deliver them." + +"With your allowance, no. I was to put the letter into the Herr's own +hands." + +"Yes, that is a likely story. Give me the letter if you have one, or I +will have you chased off the place." + +"Or be chased off yourself," said a tall, gray-haired old man who had +been an unseen spectator, stepping forward from behind a screen. "Who +is this to whom you use such threats without your master's knowledge?" + +The servant looked blank and crestfallen enough. + +"It is—it is only a country-fellow, Your Excellency," he stammered. +"He pretends to have a letter for Your Excellency, and I thought Your +Excellency would not care to be troubled, if Your Excellency pleases." + +"My Excellency will please to lay my cane about your ears some day," +said the gray-haired man, whom Philip at once guessed to be Von +Falkenstein himself.—"What are your name and business, young man?" + +"My name is Philip Reinhart, and I have a letter from Count Maurice to +Your Excellency," answered Philip, quietly as usual, though his heart +was beating so as almost to stop his breath. + +"Reinhart? Reinhart? I should know the name," said the old gentleman, +musingly. + +He broke the seal of the note, which Philip handed him, and glanced +over it. + +"Yes, yes, I understand," said he, kindly. "I thought I knew the name, +and the face also, I might say, for you are very like your father. I +remember him well. But this is not the place to talk of such matters. +Follow me." + +He led the way to a room, part parlour and part study, and, as it +seemed, part armoury and harness-room, from the number of saddles and +bridles, guns, hunting-knives, and such like matters which covered the +walls and floor. + +Two or three dogs lay before the small wood-fire which burned on the +hearth, and a big cat was nursing her brood of kittens in the great +leather-covered arm-chair. + +Colonel von Falkenstein cleared a chair fur Philip and took another for +himself—not the arm-chair, however. Philip took the seat offered him, +and waited to be spoken to. + +"And so you are Reinhart's son?" said the colonel, after he had read +over Count Maurice's note more than once. "On my word, you are a fine +young fellow, and I wish I had better news for you of your father. He +was a good, faithful, honest man, and the best smith I ever saw." + +Philip saw that the old gentleman was anxious to soften bad news; and +though he would rather have heard it in the shortest, bluntest words in +which it could be put, he felt the kindness intended. + +"My poor father is dead, then?" said he. + +"I cannot but fear so, my lad. He was sent on secret service—as a spy, +in short—into the country down the bay—West Jersey, they call it. It +was through no good-will of mine, I assure you. But they sent him. He +put off in a boat from the fort down the river, and that was the last +seen of him, but there was a terrible thunder-storm the next night, and +two or three days after, the boat, leaky and broken, was found floating +upside down in the bay. Your father's watch-coat was found entangled in +the thwarts; and though, of course, there is not absolute certainty, +I fear there is little doubt that he perished in the storm. He was a +good, brave Christian man, and died in the discharge of his duty, if +that is any comfort to you.—There! be a man, my poor boy." + +"It is a comfort, Your Excellency," said Philip as soon as he could +speak. "Captain Burger told my mother that my father had deserted to +avoid punishment." + +"Burger is a hound!" said Von Falkenstein, so angrily that the cat +looked up and uttered a startled remonstrance. "He has not so much +manhood about him as this dog. No, Philip Reinhart, your father died +as he had lived—like a soldier and a Christian; and it is not always +easy to be both, I can tell you. Many a time I have seen him sitting +on the ground or a stone reading his Bible when the other men would be +drinking or at dice. It was a shame to send him on such an errand, and +never would have happened but for his folly in spending so much time +learning English. But we all have our follies." + +Philip rose to go. + +"Oh, you must not leave me so soon," said the old gentleman. "You are +not fit to travel, and it grows late. How did you come hither?" + +"On horseback, Your Excellency, as far as the village." + +"And you left your horse at the inn, eh?" + +Philip assented. + +Colonel von Falkenstein opened the door and found Philip's first +acquaintance standing conveniently near the door—in fact, somewhat +suspiciously so. + +"Eavesdropping, eh?" said the colonel. + +"I was only waiting to show the young man out, Your Excellency." + +"Oh! Well, to reward your diligence, you may send Martin hither, and +then go down to the stable and tell one of the men to go to the inn +and ask for a horse belonging to—let me see—to Philip Reinhart. Tell +him to bring the horse up here and take good care of him. I would send +you, only I know you would be afraid of the horse. Do you understand, +or must I say it all over again?—The booby plagues my life out," he +added as the man disappeared in a hurry, "but you see, he is a widow's +son and I can't turn him away, though I have to rate him now and then. +Discipline must be upheld in such a family as mine, or all goes to +ruin.—There! Is that gray kitten playing with my seals again? I will +have them all drowned to-morrow. Cats are always torments." + +So saying, he lifted the small offender very gently from his +writing-table, stroked it till it purred loudly, and then restored it +to the side of its mother, where it remained for about the space of a +flash of lightning. + +Martin now made his appearance, a tall, gray-headed man like his +master, with the scar of a fearful sabre-cut making his face more grim +than it was by nature. + +"Oh, here you are! Martin, you remember Reinhart the smith, eh? Well, +this is his son come to ask news of his father.—And why does every +widow and orphan in the country come to me for news of their friends?" +cried the old man, angrily. "Can I help people being killed when they +go in war?" + +Apparently, Martin did not think this riddle capable of a solution, for +he remained at "attention," and said never a word. + +"Well, well!—Philip Reinhart, this man is an old comrade of your +father's, and loved him well. He can tell you all about him.—Martin, +take him with you and make him comfortable, and see that the men take +care of his horse. You have a good horse, eh? You would make a famous +trooper yourself; would he not, Martin?" + +"Too light," said Martin. + +"Nonsense! You think every one too light who is not as big as your +master or yourself—Eh! What's this?" as the irrepressible gray kitten +came swarming up his back as if he had been a tree. "These torments of +cats! I will have them all drowned to-morrow." + +"I can drown them to-night if Your Excellency desires," said Martin. + +"No, no! You have enough to do; and besides, why should you hurt the +little innocent things?" answered his master, hastily and somewhat +angrily. "What harm have they done you, that you are in such a hurry to +kill them?" + +Martin smiled grimly, but made no reply. + +"There! Go now with Martin, and don't grieve too much, and tell your +mother not to grieve too much. Your father was a brave soldier and a +good Christian, and—and the best smith I ever saw; and doubtless she +will meet him in heaven," said the colonel, mixing up his words rather +oddly in his sincere desire to console Philip. "She is poorly off, eh? +A little ready money, now—" + +"Oh no, Your Excellency; we are well-to-do," answered Philip, somewhat +hastily, as the colonel put his hand in his pocket. "I thank you for +the thought; but, so far as that goes, we need nothing." + +"That is well; I am glad to hear it," answered the colonel. "That +isn't as bad as if she did not know where to turn for a meal for her +children.—There, Martin!"—suddenly changing the subject. "Somebody has +broken the cat's basin again. I must have a wooden one. See and provide +one." + +Philip resolved in his mind that the colonel should have such a wooden +basin as never lady-cat rejoiced in before. He made his bow, and +followed Martin to his own apartment—a snug room in a tower of the old +castle-like pile, in much better order than his master's. + +"There! Sit down, sit down!" said Martin, making Philip comfortable. +"We will have our supper here, and then we can talk in peace. I have a +good deal to say to you." + +The supper was produced, and a savoury one it was, but Philip's heart +was too full for him to eat. Now that the last glimmering spark of hope +was put out, he knew how carefully he had cherished it. + +"And so you came all the way over here to get news of your father, eh?" +said Martin, after he had lighted his pipe. + +"And only to hear that there is no more hope of seeing him alive," +said Philip, sadly. "Only that certainty is better for my mother than +suspense, I might have saved my journey. We shall never see my father +again till the sea gives up its dead." + +"I am not so sure of that," said Martin. + +Philip looked at him in surprise. + +"One does not tell all one knows even when he has Von Falkenstein for a +master," continued Martin. + +He took a few more pulls at his pipe, and then added, "I don't think it +by any means certain that your father is dead." + +Philip started from his chair. + +"Sit down, sit down!" said the old man. "I will tell you all I know, +and then you can judge for yourself how much to believe. There was +a man named Dandy who used to sell eggs, butter, and cheese in the +British and Hessian camp while we were in Philadelphia. He was what +they call a Tory, and a great scamp, like most of them. His neighbours +found him out, so he had to leave his home, and he became a regular +camp-follower. I saw him down at Yorktown, where we surrendered to +the Yankees. Ah! They made it hot for us, I can tell you. I never saw +hotter work." + +Philip was on fire with impatience, but he prudently refrained from +interruption. + +"Where was I?" continued Martin. "Yes, I know. I saw this Dandy. He was +from that very part of the country whither your father was sent, and he +told me that your father was taken prisoner, and would have been hung, +only he pretended to have saved the life of a child belonging to one +of the Yankee officers that was lost in the woods. That was the way +he put it, you see. It was plain he had a great spite at your father +for something, though I didn't find out what. Well, to make a long +story short, he said your father was released, and that he was living +somewhere in West Jersey—he told me the name of the town, but I can't +remember it—and was working as a smith and making plenty of money." + +"Do you think it can be true?" said Philip, feeling as if he were in a +dream. + +"I think so. I asked the man if he were sure, and he said yes, he had +seen those who knew him. I meant to see him again, but unluckily he +was mixed up in a drunken quarrel that very night—he had got to be a +terrible drunkard—and was knocked on the head, so that he never knew +anything afterward, and died in a few days. I never told the colonel, +for in the army one learns not to tell all one knows. It might by +chance have made your father trouble." + +"And you think it can be true?" said Philip again. + +"Oh yes; there is nothing improbable in it. Very likely he did save the +child, and they let him off in consequence. He couldn't have got back +to the army very well if he had wished, for we left Philadelphia about +that time, and the Yankees gave us lively times crossing Jersey." + +"But the boat?" + +"Well, that might have floated off when he landed. Anyhow, there is the +story." + +"It is strange my father should not have written!" said Philip. + +"He wrote before he left the army, I know, for he gave me the letter, +and I put it in the way to be sent. But half the letters were lost. +Afterward, he would not have many chances.—There! I must go and wait on +my master at supper. Sit you quiet here, or go out to walk if you like, +but come back hither. The colonel said you were to lodge here to-night." + +"He is very kind, but it is not necessary," said Philip. "I have money +enough to stay at the inn." + +"No, no! You must not think of it!" said Martin, hastily. "The colonel +would never forgive you, or me either." + +Philip resigned himself. He was not sorry to be alone a while to +arrange his ideas. + +When he again saw Martin, he plied him with questions: "Was Jersey a +large place? Were there many towns? How did one go to reach it?" + +All of which questions Martin answered with the utmost good-humour. + +"I see what is brewing in your young head, but don't be in a hurry. +Think well of it." + +"I will," said Philip, but he had already made up his mind what to do. + + + +CHAPTER X. + +_CONCLUSION._ + +PHILIP had a prosperous journey homeward, and found Gustaf on the +lookout for him a little beyond the village. + +"Oh, Philip, are you come? Won't you take me up, please?" + +"You shall ride all alone, and I will walk beside you," said Philip, +dismounting and putting Gustaf into the saddle, but keeping his own +hand on the bridle. + +"Has anything happened at home?" + +"Brother Gotthold has come; and only think, Philip! He is going to +America. I wish he would take me." + +"Perhaps we shall all go some time," said Philip, thinking as he spoke +that the way was already opening for his scheme. + +"Really?" said Gustaf with sparkling eyes. + +"Yes, really; but you must not tell any one. Show now that you are a +man and can keep a secret. How is the mother?" + +"I don't know," replied Gustaf, his face saddening. "She does not cry; +but she looks—oh, so sad! Did you hear any news?" + +"Yes, plenty; but I must tell mother first. You shall hear." + +Philip found the preacher seated by the fireside. He was growing old, +but his frame seemed as vigorous and his mind as clear and active as +ever. + +Gertrude received her son with a warm and silent embrace. She hastened +to provide supper for him, but never asked a question as to the success +of his errand till he had eaten and seated himself by the fire. And +Philip, who had a comprehension of and sympathy with his mother's moods +to which Greta could never attain, said nothing of all that was in his +mind. + +At last Gertrude asked a question: "You have news, my son? Good or bad?" + +"Good, I trust, mother—not absolutely certain, but probably so. I +believe I have reason to think my father may be alive and doing well." + +There was a dead silence while Philip told his tale. + +"And is that all?" said Greta, in a tone of deep disappointment, as he +paused. "I do not see that it comes to anything. One man told another +that my father was living somewhere in that great wilderness—that is +all." + +"Not exactly so, Greta. He was living in a town in one of the smaller +provinces—Jersey is its name. It is not a wilderness, since old Martin +told me they have fine towns, farms, and churches, and even a college." + +"A college! Yes, that is very likely!" + +"I believe it is true," said Brother Gotthold. "There are several +colleges in America, and many fine towns, as I can show you, since +I have in my pocket a map of the country. The city to which I am +going—Philadelphia—is a very large and fine one, I hear." + +"Larger than Eisenach?" asked Gustaf. + +"Oh yes, much larger, and a place of great wealth and trade. See, here +it is; and here, across this great river, is the province of which +Philip speaks." + +All crowded round to look at the map, which Brother Gotthold spread out +on the table. It was a tolerably good one, shading off at the west into +indefinite space, but with the eastern provinces plainly laid down. + +"What a great country!" said Gustaf. "Is it bigger than Germany?" + +"Yes, larger than all Germany, and Holland thrown in." + +"Yes, here is Jersey," said Philip. + +"If one only knew in what town to look!" sighed Greta. + +"There are not so many but that one might look in all of them in the +course of a year," said Philip, attentively studying the map. "They +seem to have roads, too." + +"What are you thinking of, my son?" said his mother. "I can see that +you have some plan in your head?" + +"First tell me, dear mother, is it still your wish to go and live in +America?" + +"It is, more than ever if that were possible," said Gertrude, firmly. +"I wish we were ready to depart when Brother Gotthold goes next month, +but that cannot be." + +"Then, mother, this is my plan," said Philip: "Let me go out with +Brother Gotthold. Once in America, I will visit in turn every town and +village in Jersey, and seek everywhere for news of my father. Meantime, +I can also be seeking out a home for the rest of you, and making it +ready against your coming. Or should I find the country totally unfit +for us, I can return, and the loss will be less than if we all went." + +"How can you come back when you have spent all your money?" asked Greta. + +"I will go to work and earn more," answered Philip. "I remember Count +Maurice said labour was never to seek there." + +"And if you are burned by the Indians or hung by the Yankees?" said +Greta. + +"There is little danger of that," remarked Brother Gotthold. "The +Indians are only troublesome on the western border, and the Americans +are a kind and humane people, and very hospitable to strangers." + +"So old Martin says. He told me that at first, when the Hessian +prisoners were sent through the country to the place where they +were to be kept, the people railed at them. But the great American +general—Washington is his name—caused notice to be published everywhere +that the Hessians had not come to fight of their own free will, but +because they were forced to do so. After that they were treated with +the greatest kindness, the country-people bringing out provisions for +them and comforts for the sick and wounded. * If they would do that in +time of war, they would not be less kind in time of peace." + + * See "The Journal of a Hessian Officer," quoted by Irving. + +"But the people speak English, I understand, Philip, and you know no +English." + +"I must learn what I can on the voyage. I presume some one on the ship +will speak it." + +"I will teach you," said Brother Gotthold. "English is regularly +studied in all our schools, as the missionaries never know when they +may be sent to some of the English-speaking colonies. I have been +making a business of perfecting myself in the language of late, and it +will help me greatly to impart what I have learned." + +It struck Philip as curious that both the preacher and his mother spoke +of his proposed journey as already a settled matter. + +"Perhaps we have talked enough for to-night," said he. "To-morrow we +will take it up again." + +"And if you do go on this wild-goose chase—for such I must say it seems +to me—who is to take care of my mother and the farm while you are away?" + +"My mother herself, with you and Gustaf to help her; and Louis +Rosekranz, perhaps," answered Philip. "We shall see about that. But you +must allow, sister, that if we make this move, on which my mother's +heart is set, it is better for me to go first." + +"Yes, 'if' we go. I wish we had never thought of going," said Greta, +vehemently. + +"Why, Greta, you used to be the most earnest in the scheme of any of +us. You used to accuse me of being a spoil-sport if I said a word +against it, and you declared you would rather dwell in a cabin in the +woods than live in a palace in the landgrave's dominions." + +"What signifies bringing up every idle word one ever spoke?" said +Greta, pettishly. "I was a child, and did not know what I was talking +about. But I see there is no use in talking, since you have mother on +your side. Nobody cares what I think or feel about anything." + +The next day the matter was discussed in all its length and breadth in +a grave family council, to which Uncle Franz and Louis Rosekranz were +called. + +Uncle Franz growled a little, thought it better to let well alone, but +on the whole did not offer as much opposition as had been expected. + +Louis Rosekranz was fired with enthusiasm at the very idea. He had been +talking with the returned veterans, and had his head full of wonderful +stories. Besides that, he had known a man who went to America with +only his hands and tools, and now wrote back that he owned a hundred +acres of land all his own. There were forests full of deer, bears, and +wolves, rivers swarming with fish, and birds like the quails that the +doctor read of from the Scripture. He would go with Philip himself, +only that Uncle Franz needed him just now. His part should be to see +that his aunt never wanted for anything which the most devoted son +could give her while Philip was away. + +Greta tossed her head and murmured something about people's waiting +till they were asked, but it was noticeable that she entirely withdrew +her opposition to Philip's plans, and worked with great zeal to further +his preparations. + +But unexpected delays occurred. The season was far advanced. A winter +voyage was dangerous, and Brother Gotthold's directors decided that +he had better wait till spring. Philip spent the winter in diligently +studying English, and in carving for Herr von Falkenstein's cat such a +basin and platter as drew forth the old gentleman's utmost approbation. +It was not till April that Philip and his friend set sail, with every +prospect of a prosperous voyage. + + +It was in the middle of June, 1783, that Caspar Reinhart called at the +office of Fussell & Edelman, on the wharf at Philadelphia. They were +German merchants, and he had been directed to them as the persons most +likely to tell him what he wished to know. + +"You are just in time," said old Mr. Fussell when he learned the +stranger's business. "There is a ship from Hamburg just coming up the +river at this moment. She has some emigrants on board, they tell me, +and perhaps you may find friends among them. If you will wait a little, +we will go down and see." + +"If you please, sir, the 'Gem' has just come up to her berth," said a +porter, hearing his employer's words. + +"Good!" said the old man. "We will go down directly. Rather better to +have peaceful merchantmen coming up the river than transports full of +troops, eh?" + +Caspar assented heartily. He was standing on the dock, rather sadly +watching the passengers as they landed, when a hand was laid on his +arm, and he turned round to see a tall, handsome youth, so like his +youngest brother that he started as if he had seen a ghost. + +"Father! Don't you know your little Philip?" + +"My son, my son!—But your mother, dear boy?" said Caspar, after the +first agitated greetings were over. + +"Alive and well, dear father; but I have much to tell you." + +"We will talk it all over at home, my boy. For I have a home fairer +than the old one at Nonnenwald. I have made it ready, and this very day +I came to find means of going to bring you all over. Thank Heaven, we +did not miss each other on the way!" + + +In the course of another year, Gertrude Reinhart was fairly established +in the tall white house, wondering greatly at American ways, but +conforming to them quite as well as could be expected. + +In another house not far away, Louis Rosekranz and his young wife were +settled; and Louis was learning that in order to live even in America, +he must attend to his farming and leave the game to take care of +itself. He had discovered that it would never do to let his aunt take +such a long journey alone; and having inherited a small property from +his father, he determined to use it in purchasing a farm in the New +World. + +Gustaf went to school, helped his father in the shop, worked in the +garden, and made himself useful and liked everywhere. + +Philip's mind had for some time been turning strongly toward the +ministry, and Brother Gotthold, whom he had consulted, encouraged him +in the idea, seeing in him gifts and dispositions eminently suited +for the work. His father was in easy circumstances and growing richer +year by year, and he was both able and willing to afford his son all +the help he needed. In a year from his landing, Philip was ready to +enter Princeton College, from which he graduated with credit; and not +long after, he was settled as pastor in one of the towns which were +springing up all over the country. He married a wife who was a true +help to him—a vivacious little gray-eyed woman, who, when she wished to +coax her father-in-law to come and visit her, used to address him by +the title of "Mr. Hessian." + +Recompense Joake used to sometimes remark that if it did not seem like +boasting, he should think he had done a good thing in nursing Caspar +through that fever. + +Several children were added to the household of Caspar and Gertrude +Reinhart, and Greta sometimes found herself confused between her +children and her brothers and sisters, but this circumstance is not +supposed to have caused any serious inconvenience. The descendants of +the two families are among the most respected citizens of New Jersey +and various other States. + +A certain Louis Rosekranz remarked the other day that he thought he had +a right to go to the Centennial, because his great-grandfather fought +in the war of the Revolution. + +"On which side?" asked his father, smiling. + +"Bother!" said Louis. "I never thought of that!" + + + + THE END. + + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 77860 *** diff --git a/77860-h/77860-h.htm b/77860-h/77860-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..af73745 --- /dev/null +++ b/77860-h/77860-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,4342 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html> +<html lang="en"> +<head> + <meta charset="UTF-8"> + <title> + The Story of a Hessian. A Tale of the Revolution in New Jersey │ Project Gutenberg + </title> + <link rel="icon" href="images/image001.jpg" type="image/cover"> + <style> + +body { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + font-size:12.0pt; + font-family:"Verdana"; +} + +p {text-indent: 2em;} + + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; +} + +h2 {font-size: 1.17em;} + +hr { + width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: 33.5%; + margin-right: 33.5%; + clear: both; +} + +/* Images */ + +img { + max-width: 100%; + height: auto; +} + +.w100 { + width: auto + } + +.figcenter { + margin: auto; + text-align: center; + page-break-inside: avoid; + max-width: 100%; +} + +p.t1 {text-indent: 0%; + font-size: 125%; + text-align: center + } + +p.t2 { + text-indent: 0%; + font-size: 150%; + text-align: center + } + +p.t3 { + text-indent: 0%; + font-size: 100%; + text-align: center + } + +p.t3b { + text-indent: 0%; + font-size: 100%; + font-weight: bold; + text-align: center + } + +p.t4 { + text-indent: 0%; + font-size: 80%; + text-align: center + } + +p.letter {text-indent: 0%; + margin-left: 10% ; + margin-right: 10% } + +p.poem { + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + padding: 20px 0; + text-align: left; + width: 555px; + } + +p.footnote {text-indent: 0% ; + font-size: 90%; + margin-left: 10% ; + margin-right: 10% } + + + </style> +</head> +<body> +<div style='text-align:center'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 77860 ***</div> + +<p>Transcriber's notes: Unusual and inconsistent spelling is as printed.</p> + +<p>New original cover art included with this eBook is granted to the +public domain.</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="image001" style="max-width: 33.8125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/image001.jpg" alt="image001"> +</figure> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<h1>THE<br> +<br> +STORY OF A HESSIAN.<br> +<br> +</h1> + +<p class="t1"> +<b>A TALE OF THE<br> +<br> +REVOLUTION IN NEW JERSEY</b><br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p class="t3"> +BY<br> +</p> + +<p class="t1"> +LUCY ELLEN GUERNSEY<br> +<br> +</p> + +<p class="t3"> +AUTHOR OF<br> +</p> + +<p class="t4"> +"IRISH AMY," "THE HEIRESS OF McGREGOR,"<br> +"GRANDMOTHER BROWN," ETC.<br> +</p> + +<p><br><br></p> + +<p class="t3"> +—————————<br> +</p> + +<p><br><br></p> + +<p class="t4"> +PHILADELPHIA:<br> +</p> + +<p class="t3"> +AMERICAN SUNDAY-SCHOOL UNION<br> +</p> + +<p class="t4"> +NO. 1122 CHESTNUT STREET.<br> +<br> +——————————<br> +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p class="t4"> +————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————<br> +<br> +Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1877, by the<br> +<br> +AMERICAN SUNDAY-SCHOOL UNION<br> +<br> +In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington.<br> +<br> +————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————<br> +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p class="t4"> +              —————————————————      +                   ————————————————<br> +             WESCOTT & THOMSON    +                             +       HENRY B. ASHMEAD<br> +Stereotypers and Electrotypers, Philada.                +              Printer, Philada.<br> +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p class="t3b"> +CONTENTS.<br> +<br> +——————<br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p class="t3"> +<a href="#Chapter_1">CHAPTER I.</a><br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> +A WOLF-HUNT<br> +</p> + +<p class="t3"> +<a href="#Chapter_2">CHAPTER II.</a><br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> +IN THE CHURCHYARD<br> +</p> + +<p class="t3"> +<a href="#Chapter_3">CHAPTER III.</a><br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> +THE COUNT'S VISIT<br> +</p> + +<p class="t3"> +<a href="#Chapter_4">CHAPTER IV.</a><br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> +THE MISCHIANZA<br> +</p> + +<p class="t3"> +<a href="#Chapter_5">CHAPTER V.</a><br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> +A DOOR OPENED<br> +</p> + +<p class="t3"> +<a href="#Chapter_6">CHAPTER VI.</a><br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> +THE BEAR<br> +</p> + +<p class="t3"> +<a href="#Chapter_7">CHAPTER VII.</a><br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> +NEW FRIENDS AND NEW FOES<br> +</p> + +<p class="t3"> +<a href="#Chapter_8">CHAPTER VIII.</a><br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> +NEWS AND PLANS<br> +</p> + +<p class="t3"> +<a href="#Chapter_9">CHAPTER IX.</a><br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> +NONNENWALD<br> +</p> + +<p class="t3"> +<a href="#Chapter_10">CHAPTER X.</a><br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> +CONCLUSION<br> +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p class="t3"> +<b>THE</b><br> +</p> + +<p class="t2"> +<b>STORY OF A HESSIAN.</b><br> +<br> +——————————<br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<h2><a id="Chapter_1">CHAPTER I.</a></h2> + +<p class="t3"> +<em>A WOLF-HUNT.</em><br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>ON a certain bright October morning, in the year 1779, a gay train set +out from the princely hunting-lodge of Nonnenwald. This lodge was built +under the shadow of an outlying spire of the great Thuringerwald, a +range of mountains to the south-east of the dominions of the prince to +whom it belonged. It was, in fact, a small Schloss or castle, a part +of which was quite ruinous and overgrown with ivy and brambles. This +part of the building was made of dark stone taken from a quarry near +at hand. A couple of its towers were in good preservation, and showed +signs of being inhabited, while a two-story wing, evidently quite new +and built of brick, looked awkward and uncomfortable beside its sombre +old neighbour. Even with this addition, the lodge would accommodate +very few people—a circumstance which made it something of a favourite +with its owner. The lodge of Nonnenwald belonged to the hereditary +prince or landgrave of Hesse-Cassel, and he liked now and then to +escape to it from the splendours of his magnificent court, to indulge +in the pursuits of hunting and fishing in company with a few special +friends.</p> + +<p>The Thuringerwald swarmed with every species of game. Wild boars +abounded, and there was a somewhat mythical story that the great wild +bull of Europe—the urus—was still to be met in its deeper recesses. +Wildcats, bears, and lynxes, made their homes on the rocky ledges, +and the great gray wolves ran down the deer and boars, and now and +then made an incursion into the cultivated country. Such an incursion +had just taken place, early as it was in the year, and many cattle +and sheep had been destroyed in the fields about Nonnenwald. Nay, the +animals had entered the village itself, and had killed a calf belonging +to Gertrude Reinhart, who lived in the little stone house near the +churchyard where was the deserted blacksmith's forge. It was the report +of this incursion which had brought down the prince and his train, and +a fine week's sport was in anticipation.</p> + +<p>As the gay train, with the prince in the midst, wound their way through +the street of the little village, it was met by a train of a very +different description arriving from the opposite direction. First +came the Lutheran pastor of the little church in his gown, then time +coffin—a child's coffin decked with a wreath of everlasting flowers and +carried on a bier. Then came the mourning family, the mother leaning on +the arm of a tall gray-haired man and leading a little boy by the hand. +A boy of about fifteen, and a girl somewhat younger, followed hand in +hand, and a few neighbours brought up the rear. They came slowly up the +hill, giving the hunting-train plenty of time to halt and draw up to +the side of the road near the church, which they did with some trouble, +for the horses were very restive and unmanageable, and the great +wolf-hounds bayed and howled and strained furiously at their slips, as +if they already scented their savage game.</p> + +<p>"A bad omen for our chase," said a young gentleman who rode near the +prince.</p> + +<p>The prince frowned. He had just been thinking the same thing, but it +did not please him to have the thought put into words. He made the sign +of the cross. It was a new accomplishment, and he was rather proud of +it.</p> + +<p>"Sancta Maria, ora pro nobis!" said he, piously. And then he frowned +again, for he thought he saw a glance of derision pass between his two +young cousins, Victor and Maurice of Nassau. "Whose is the funeral, +Franz?"</p> + +<p>"'Tis the youngest son of Gertrude Reinhart—the woman whose calf was +killed the other night," answered Franz the huntsman, a man who had +grown gray in the service of the landgrave and his father. "The lad was +an innocent—a witless child," he added. "He crept out at evening to see +the new calf, and the wolves fell upon the poor creature and killed it +before his eyes. They would have done the same by him, but the poor +innocent had sense enough to climb upon the roof of the forge, or else +the angels set him there. Who knows?"</p> + +<p>"Angels do not interfere for the salvation of heretics, my good Franz," +said the prince, pompously.</p> + +<p>"Humph!" answered Franz, with little respect, as it seemed, either for +the speech or the speaker. "Anyhow, he was found on the roof."</p> + +<p>"But the angels could not have put him there; do you think so, my +father?" he asked, turning to a dark gentleman who rode at his left +hand.</p> + +<p>"I understand that the lad was an innocent, or witless child," answered +the priest, gravely, though with a little twinkle in his eye; "in which +case such an interference might have taken place."</p> + +<p>"Go on, Franz," said the prince. "What was the end of the matter?"</p> + +<p>"The end was that the villagers heard the noise and turned out with +what arms they had, and Hans and myself came down with the dogs and +drove the brutes away," answered Franz. "The poor lad was not hurt, but +so frightened that he never held up his head again. It is a sore blow +to poor Gertrude, who was bound up in him."</p> + +<p>"Why, he could never be anything but an encumbrance to her; he would +never have earned his own living," said the prince. "She ought to be +thankful to be rid of such a trouble."</p> + +<p>The prince did not mean to be hard-hearted, but he was rather stupid +and ignorant even for a German prince of that time, and he really +thought so.</p> + +<p>"I fancy women are not often glad to part with their children," said +the priest, gravely, "and I have observed that they cling most to those +who most need their care."</p> + +<p>"Here they come," said Count Maurice, and as the little funeral train +reached the place where the riders had drawn up, he took off his hat.</p> + +<p>The other gentlemen did the same, and even the prince raised his +beaver, almost, as it seemed, against his will.</p> + +<p>"Poor woman! What a tragedy is in her face!" observed Count Maurice, in +an undertone, to his next neighbour. "Is she a widow, I wonder?"</p> + +<p>"She might as well be," answered old Franz, on hearing the question. +"Her husband is in America, and she has heard no word from him for +three long years. Poor Gertrude was one of the fairest and sweetest +matrons in all the Thuringerwald, but she is sadly changed, poor thing."</p> + +<p>"I dare say. Do you know her, then?"</p> + +<p>"She is my grand-niece."</p> + +<p>"And did her husband go against her will?"</p> + +<p>"I fancy nobody waited to find out what her will was, or his, either," +answered the old man, dryly. "He had no time even to bid farewell to +his family."</p> + +<p>The prince moved uneasily on his horse as he overheard the words.</p> + +<p>"Who is the man on whose arms the woman leans?" he asked. "I have never +seen him before."</p> + +<p>"He does not live about here, though he is a not unfrequent visitor," +said Franz. "He is one of the Moravian ministers from Herrnhut, and +goes about the country teaching and preaching where he pleases. The +folks look on him as a prophet or saint. They call him the consoler, +and say he is sure to turn up where there is any great grief or +trouble."</p> + +<p>"Well, gentlemen, we may as well ride on," said the prince.</p> + +<p>He would have infinitely preferred to return home, only he was afraid +of being laughed at for his superstition. Not that any one (unless +it might be Count Maurice) would have ventured to do so to his face, +but he knew very well they would not hesitate behind his back. He was +especially jealous of his two young visitors, the counts Victor and +Maurice of Nassau, who had been much at the court of Frederick the +Great, and were believed to be infected by the new French philosophy. +He made the sign of the cross again—rather awkwardly, for he never +could remember where to begin—and the train moved on.</p> + +<p>The funeral was over, and the neighbours who had lingered at the stone +cottage ceased their well-meant attempts at consolation and went their +way home. Gertrude Reinhart had gone through the funeral services +with dry eyes and compressed lips. She had not shed a tear since her +boy died. With the same outwardly composed face she was engaged in +preparing supper for her children, when she was disturbed by a knock at +the door. With a movement of impatience she opened it. There stood the +priest whom we saw in the morning, and at some little distance behind +him the young count Maurice.</p> + +<p>"You are the widow Reinhart, whose son was buried this morning?" said +the priest, kindly.</p> + +<p>"I am Gertrude Reinhart, whose son was buried this morning," answered +Gertrude, briefly, for she was in no mood for ceremony. "Whether I am a +widow or not, Heaven only knows. What is your business with me? It must +needs be pressing, since you disturb with it the house of mourning."</p> + +<p>"I beg your pardon," answered the priest, gently. "I understood you +were a widow. Forgive me if I have hurt you. My errand is to bring you +this money from His Serene Highness, who was witness of your trouble +this morning and desires to help you."</p> + +<p>Gertrude's cheek flushed and her eyes blazed with sudden fire.</p> + +<p>"Go back to him who sent you and tell him from me that his money may +perish with him," she cried. "Shall I take the price of my husband's +blood from my husband's murderer?" She seemed about to say more, but +checked herself, and turning away busied herself once more in her +household work.</p> + +<p>The priest remained standing a moment, as if uncertain what to do, when +Gertrude again turned toward him with a somewhat softened expression.</p> + +<p>"I am wrong, reverend sir," said she. "Doubtless you mean kindly, and +I thank you, but I can take no gold from the prince—not if I and mine +were starving. I cannot take it from one who sent my husband and the +father of my children to perish in the forests or murdered in cold +blood by the cruel, bloodthirsty Americans."</p> + +<p>"Nay, there you are wrong, my poor soul!" said Count Maurice, who had +caught Gertrude's words. "Let me comfort you, then. The Americans are +not cruel to their prisoners, but treat them with great kindness and +humanity. I was myself in America for a year at the beginning of the +war, and know what I say to be true."</p> + +<p>"In America did you say, sir?" exclaimed the little seven-year-old +Gustaf Reinhart, pulling away his hand from his sister's and springing +forward. "Oh, did Your Highness know my father? He has gone to America, +and we have never heard from him since. Did you know my dear father? +Oh, say that he is alive, and I will show you where to find the +prettiest crystals in all the Thuringerwald and will give you my tame +sparrow-hawk."</p> + +<p>The young soldier's proud moustache quivered a little, and he seemed +to have some trouble in finding his voice to answer, as he stroked the +little fair head of the child who was looking so anxiously up into his +face.</p> + +<p>"My dear little boy, I did not know your father from a thousand +others," said he, kindly. "I was only a short time in the army before +I was called home, but this much I can tell you: The Americans are +white people and Christians like ourselves, and, as I said, treat their +prisoners with kindness. The stories which were told of their putting +all the Hessians to death were groundless fabrications."</p> + +<p>"I thought they were all wild savages," said Gustaf.</p> + +<p>"There are plenty of savages, and wild enough," answered Count Maurice. +"They are, indeed, more cruel and bloodthirsty than so many wolves; +but they are not fighting against the British, but for them, more +is the shame for those who let them loose on the helpless women and +children.—But I pray you take comfort, dame," he added, turning once +more to Gertrude. "Your husband may be killed like another, but, again, +he may escape as well as another; and as I said, if he falls into the +hands of the Americans, he will be well treated. Nay, he may perhaps +return before long, since I have heard that the war is likely soon +to come to an end. There, now! I have made you cry, when I meant to +comfort you," said the count, with a young man's natural dismay, as +Gertrude burst into a passion of tears. "Oh how sorry I am!"</p> + +<p>"You have done her all the good in the world," said the more +experienced priest, drawing the young man away. "The people tell me +that she has never shed one tear in all her troubles. She will weep the +burden from her heart, and sleep to-night in peace. 'Tis a pity the +poor soul is a heretic. She might else find comfort in the offices of +the Church."</p> + +<p>"Like our royal host," said Count Maurice, with a shrug of his +shoulders and as much of a sneer as his amiable face was capable of. +"It is to be hoped he will spend some of the money he got of the king +of England for these same offices for the benefit of his soldiers +killed in America."</p> + +<p>"For heretics?" asked the priest, apparently more amused than shocked +at his companion's remark.</p> + +<p>"When people send heretics to war, it seems to me that they should pay +the damage," answered Count Maurice, lightly; and then, in a graver +tone, "Say what we may, this selling of one's own subjects to be +butchered for money is a horrible business."</p> + +<p>"I agree with you there."</p> + +<p>"Then you won't report the poor woman's wild words to His Serene +Highness?" said Count Maurice, rather anxiously.</p> + +<p>"Not I," answered the priest, with some emphasis, "nor yours, either."</p> + +<p>"Oh, as to that, my princely cousin knows my mind on the subject. We +all but quarrelled on the point some years ago; and only to please my +father, I should not be here now. But as the prince's confessor—"</p> + +<p>"I am not his confessor," interrupted the priest; "and if I were, +confessors are not all-powerful. I shall do nothing to injure yonder +poor soul, you may be sure. But what to do with this money. I dare not +return it lest he should ask questions. I believe the best way will be +to give it to some religious house to pray for the soul of the poor +innocent who was buried to-day."</p> + +<p>"And much good that will do him!" thought Count Maurice. But he had +too much real respect for his companion to treat his opinions with +contempt, however far they might be from his own, and the two walked +back to the lodge in silence.</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<h2><a id="Chapter_2">CHAPTER II.</a></h2> + +<p class="t3"> +<em>IN THE CHURCHYARD.</em><br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>THOSE of my readers who have read any history of the American +Revolution are familiar with the fact that George III., at that time +king of England, hired many German soldiers to help fight his battles, +and that these soldiers were usually known as Hessians. These men +were not always or often enlisted of their own free will. They were +simply hired, or rather bought, at so much a head from their native +sovereigns, the princes of the smaller German states.</p> + +<p>The princes or landgraves of Hesse had the honour of originating this +profitable line of business in the person of Landgrave William V., who +fought on the Swedish side under the great Gustavus during the Thirty +Years' War, and got himself into very hot water with his superiors of +the German empire. William VIII., father of Frederick II., lent his +forces to the British during what is known as the "Seven Years' War," +thereby enriching his purse and impoverishing his dominions to a great +extent. William, indeed, always fought with his own men, exposed to +much the same hardships and dangers, and won honour as a brave and +skilful soldier.</p> + +<p>But Landgrave Frederick had no notion of running any such foolish +risks. He liked his ease too well—his hunting-expeditions and +concert-rooms and collections of pictures and other elegant amusements. +Moreover, he was very busy learning a new religion. Ever since the +days of his ancestor Philip I., surnamed the Generous, who came to +the throne in 1509, Hesse-Cassel and its dependencies had been mostly +Protestant. But Frederick took it into his wise head to become a Roman +Catholic, and a very devout one, though it is but just to say that +he never interfered with the religion of his subjects. So he stayed +quietly at home and patronized art, while thousands of his subjects, +farmers, labourers, artisans, miners, and so forth, the best of the +nation, were carried away across the seas to fight for a people they +did not know against a people who had done them no harm.</p> + +<p>If the men had gone with their own consent, it would not have been so +bad, but in many cases they had been kidnapped—carried off from their +farms and workshops, from market and church, without being allowed +to set their affairs in order or bid their families farewell. Three +millions of pounds—seven pounds four and fourpence for each man, and +as much more for every one killed—did the landgrave receive from the +British king. He spent the money, as I have said, in keeping up a +splendid court, but meantime in many places the fields lay unfilled +because there were none but boys and old men to plough them; the wolves +and bears increased and grew bolder and bolder.</p> + +<p>The condition of the families whose heads had been taken away was of +course very pitiable. Even when, as in the case of Caspar Reinhart's +household, there was no lack of bread, there were long weeks and months +and years of slow, sickening suspense and anxiety. Many of the men +did not know how to write or had no means of writing, and those who +were able sent home reports which were anything but encouraging. It +was commonly reported among them that the American soldiers gave no +quarter, that they were more cruel and vindictive than the Indians +themselves, killing without mercy all the prisoners who fell into their +hands. These reports were no idle rumours picked up at second hand: +they were deliberate lies fabricated and circulated by the British and +German officers among their ignorant troops. The Hessians who were +taken prisoners were utterly astonished to find themselves treated with +kindness both by their captors and the people of the country.</p> + +<p>Caspar Reinhart had been the owner of a little farm adjoining the +village of Nonnenwald. He kept a few cows, some sheep and goats, and +cultivated some fields of rye and oats, while a warm and sheltered +corner of the domain held a flourishing orchard of apple and cherry +trees. The profits of his farm, which, with all his industry and +Gertrude's economy, were not large, were greatly increased by his trade +of blacksmith and wheelwright. Nobody could shoe a restive horse or +tame a wild and frightened colt so well in all the district, and lame +and disabled carts and wagons were brought to him from far and near. He +also possessed considerable skill as a carver; which skill he practised +by the fire in the long winter evenings, making wooden bowls and spoons +and heads for spinning-wheels, and he had made a memorial tablet to +his mother which was an ornament to the little church and the object +of admiration to all the village. But his forge was silent and falling +to pieces, his carving-tools lay hidden in the cupboard of Philip's +bedroom. Only a few sheep and two cows remained of his stock, and the +orchard was suffering for want of the master's hand, for Caspar was +away in America, and his wife had heard no word from him for three long +years.</p> + +<p>Gertrude remained for a moment or two standing where her visitor had +left her. The children looked on from their corner, hardly knowing +whether to be terrified or relieved by their mother's burst of weeping. +Presently she wiped her eyes and turned to them:</p> + +<p>"Philip and Margaret, you may go and drive up the cows and sheep, lest +the wolves should come down again. Take Gustaf with you, and do not +remain out after sunset."</p> + +<p>Gertrude's least word was law to the children, and without speaking a +word they hastened to obey.</p> + +<p>The cattle were soon secured in the strong and high enclosure near the +house made to protect them in winter. This done, Margaret, stole up +softly and peeped through the window of the cottage.</p> + +<p>"The mother is on her knees praying and weeping," said she, turning +with an awestruck face to her companions. "Do not let us disturb her. I +heard the good brother Gotthold say he would give a great deal to see +her weep, and so did Aunt Lisa."</p> + +<p>"That strange gentleman who came with the young count said the same," +observed Gustaf. "But where shall we go, Greta?"</p> + +<p>"The sun is not near setting," replied his sister; "let us go up to the +churchyard."</p> + +<p>The church of Nonnenwald stood on a little rocky eminence somewhat +apart from the village. It was a very ancient structure, and there +were ruins about it—very deep, dark vaults, grass-grown mounds, and +crumbling walls which seemed to show that the existing building had +once been part of a larger structure. There was a dim tradition that a +nunnery had once occupied the hill, which had been destroyed in some +unusual and awful manner for the wickedness of the inhabitants—some +said by an earthquake, others by a waterspout descending from the +clouds.</p> + +<p>Be that as it might, the scene was peaceful enough now. The sun was +sinking, and sent his rays through the branches of an old oak which +still retained many of its leaves and cast a chequered shade over the +short green turf. Most of the graves were humble grass-grown mounds, +marked, if at all, only by a rude headstone or a wooden cross, but +there were a few stone tombs and monuments, very old and moss-grown. +On one of these was a recumbent figure, but so weather-worn and +bespattered with lichen that no one could have told whether it was +meant for a man or a woman. Tradition, however, had given it the name +of the Good Lady, and averred that it had once stood in the convent +church and was miraculously spared when the rest of the structure was +destroyed. Near it was the entrance to one of those vaults of which I +have spoken—a low arch partly stopped with stones.</p> + +<p>The children bent their steps toward the old oak, where, under the +shelter of some nut-bushes, lay the little new-made grave. It had been +neatly covered with sods, and some kind hand had laid upon it a garland +of late flowers.</p> + +<p>"I wonder where Fritz is now?" said Philip, in a low voice.</p> + +<p>"Singing with the angels," answered little Gustaf, confidently. "I +asked Brother Gotthold last night, and he said so."</p> + +<p>"Then I am sure he is very happy," said Philip. "You know how he always +loved music." He was silent a minute, and then added, in a still lower +voice, "I wonder if he has found father?"</p> + +<p>"Father is not dead," said Margaret, abruptly; "so how should Fritz +find him?"</p> + +<p>Philip shook his head:</p> + +<p>"I wish I could think so, Greta dear. But you know how long it is since +we have heard a word—never since he sailed—"</p> + +<p>"What of that?" interrupted Margaret, almost harshly. "Was not Uncle +Franz away more than seven years? And had not every one given him up +for dead? Yet he came back, and father will come back—I know he will."</p> + +<p>"How do you know?" asked little Gustaf. "Who told you? Did Brother +Gotthold?"</p> + +<p>"No, but Brother Gotthold thinks he may be alive, for all that; and you +heard what the young count said last night. But that is not the reason. +I cannot tell you, but somehow or other I do know that my father is +alive, and that I shall see him again."</p> + +<p>Philip shook his head sadly, but he did not argue the point.</p> + +<p>After standing a few moments in silence, he said, suddenly, "Margaret, +do you think my mother would let me have the oak log that lies under +the shed at the forge?"</p> + +<p>"I dare say," answered Margaret, coming back as it were from a long +distance to answer the question. "At any rate, you can ask her. What +will you do with it?"</p> + +<p>"I should like to carve a cross for Fritz—a cross with a garland, like +that we saw in the churchyard at Fulda. I would make the wreath all of +lilies and spring flowers such as Fritz loved. I can see just how to do +it;" and Philip's eyes brightened.</p> + +<p>"And an inscription telling how he died," said Margaret.</p> + +<p>"No, I think not, Greta dear," answered her brother. "Why keep up such +a sad story? The darling innocent is now with the angels, as Gustaf +said, and why fix our thoughts on his painful journey?"</p> + +<p>"I 'will' think of it! I will 'never' forget it!" answered Margaret, +vehemently. "It is all the fault of the landgrave. It is he who killed +Fritz. If my father had not been sent away, it would never have +happened. But you, Philip, think of nothing and care for nothing but +your books and your carving. If you remembered father as I do, and how +he was carried away, you would not be so easy about the matter as you +are. It is not hard to be quiet when one does not care."</p> + +<p>Philip winced as if some one had hurt him.</p> + +<p>"You forget that I was older than you when father went away," said he, +in the gentle voice which was one of his characteristics. "True, I had +not seen him for a year, because I was with my uncle in Fulda, but I +remember him perfectly. I was not here when he went, and I never knew +exactly how it was. Did they take him from the forge?"</p> + +<p>"No; it was from the church," answered Margaret. "It was All Saints' +day, and all the village was in the church. The new panels which my +father had carved for the pulpit had just been put up, I remember. +Just as the pastor finished his discourse, we heard outside the tramp +of soldiers and the clash of muskets, and then the harsh voice of the +officer,—</p> + +<p>"'Let not a man escape!'</p> + +<p>"We thought, to be sure, they had come to look for some deserter or +criminal, and everybody looked about them, but there was no stranger +in the church. Just as the service was ended, the officer and some +of his men entered. I can't tell you all; it was too dreadful," said +Margaret, covering her face. "They took away every able-bodied man—even +poor Maurice, the blind widow's son. It was of no use to struggle. Hans +Webber did so. His wife was very ill and had a little baby, and he +would pot go. He snatched up a club and fought the men who came to take +him, and, Philip, they shot him down like a dog, there by the tomb of +the Good Lady. No wonder the grass has never grown there. Poor Magdalen +has been mad ever since."</p> + +<p>"No wonder!" said Philip, with a shudder. "Was that what made an +innocent of little Fritz?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I suppose so. All the women said so."</p> + +<p>"And that is the reason my mother never comes to the church?"</p> + +<p>"She has never set her foot in the churchyard till to-day. It was the +same in other places, or worse. And all that our landgrave might have +money to keep a grand court and buy pictures and build a fine chapel +like that yonder at the Schloss, with gold crucifixes, and altar-cloths +worked in crystals and pearls, and dressed-up dolls adorned with +diamonds!" said Margaret, in a tone of bitter scorn. "Brother Gotthold +says the Americans are fighting because they will not have a king or a +prince to rule them. I hope they will succeed; and if they do, I will +go there and live some day."</p> + +<p>"Hush, Greta!" said Philip, looking around him. "Think if some one +should hear you!"</p> + +<p>"Let them hear!"</p> + +<p>"But the mother, sister! You would not add to her troubles? The sun +is getting very low," he added; "I think we had better be going home. +Where is Gustaf? Here he comes in a hurry. Why, child, what ails you? +You are as white as ashes."</p> + +<p>Gustaf caught hold of his brother and sister, and held them tight.</p> + +<p>"There is something in the vault by the Good Lady's tomb," said the +child, in a choked whisper—"something with glaring green eyes that +stared at me when I peeped in."</p> + +<p>"An owl," said Philip. "You are not afraid of an owl at this time of +day, little brother?"</p> + +<p>"It was not an owl," whispered the child. "It was big and dark. I could +just see it huddled in a corner, and it moved and growled fiercely like +a big dog."</p> + +<p>Philip and Margaret looked at each other with pale faces as the same +thought occurred to both—that one or more of the wolves who had wrought +the mischief might have taken refuge in the vaults. At that moment, +the wicket of the churchyard was opened, and the old huntsman Franz +appeared, leading one of the great wolf-hounds, of which he had a +number under his charge—immensely powerful and savage-looking dogs, +but gentle and docile enough with friends. Leo especially was an old +playmate of Philip's.</p> + +<p>The children sprang toward the old man with a feeling of relief.</p> + +<p>"What are you doing here, children?" said Franz, roughly, but not +unkindly. "It is time you were at home. These are not days when +children should be out after dark. I cannot but think the wolves have +come near the town again, for the dogs are half crazy. Look at old +Leo, how he growls and bristles. One would think he smelt them at this +moment. Gently, gently, old fellow! There are no wolves here."</p> + +<p>The dog struggled to free himself from his leash, and lifting up his +head made the air resound with his yells. He was answered by the +doleful braying of the other dogs in kennels at the lodge, and by the +howls of all the less aristocratic dogs of the village. The face of the +old man darkened.</p> + +<p>"The beasts must be at hand," said he, anxiously. "Trust old Leo never +to give tongue on a false scent. There, again! Children, hasten home as +fast as you can."</p> + +<p>"I believe the dog may be right, Uncle Franz," said Philip. "Gustaf saw +something in the vault yonder which frightened him."</p> + +<p>"It had green glaring eyes and growled," said Gustaf. "I thought it was +the wehr-wolf."</p> + +<p>"The dog was right," exclaimed the old man, exultingly. "Trust old Leo +for telling the truth. Hasten home, Greta; and do you, Philip, run to +the lodge and give the alarm. Tell Gaurenz—you will find him at the +kennels—that the wolves are in the churchyard. I will keep watch here +with the dog. A fine time, truly, when our very graves are not safe +from them! Take my pistol from my belt and look at the priming, boy, +before you go. They may take a fancy to bolt."</p> + +<p>"Do you think there can be more than one?" asked Philip as he carefully +renewed the priming of the pistol and loosened his uncle's knife in +the sheath, for both the huntsman's hands were fully occupied in +restraining the now furious dog.</p> + +<p>"I can't say, my boy. For aught I know, the whole pack may have slipped +down last night, after the moon set, and hidden themselves in these old +holes, ready for an onslaught to-night. They are as wise and cunning as +so many kobolds. Away with you now, and give the alarm as you go."</p> + +<p>Philip was the fastest runner in all Nonnenwald, and in a few minutes +he was at the lodge telling his errand, not to the huntsman, but to the +landgrave himself, who was down at the kennels looking at the dogs. In +a few minutes the churchyard, late so quiet, was a scene of the wildest +commotion.</p> + +<p>Franz turned out to be right in his conjecture. Not one, but the whole +pack of wolves, had taken refuge in the old vaults, no doubt with the +intention of making a midnight foray on the cattle and sheep of the +village. The unwillingness of the dogs to pass the churchyard in the +morning and their uneasiness during the day were fully explained. Five +wolves were killed in the churchyard itself, two were run down by the +dogs, and two or three made their escape. It was a memorable occasion +for the little village, and Gustaf found himself quite a hero, since, +but for his curiosity in prying into the vault, the wolves would +probably have remained undiscovered.</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>Early on the Sunday morning following the hunt, Philip was in the +churchyard. He carried in his hands some bunches and garlands of +flowers with which to deck the grave of his little brother. He smoothed +and pressed down the turf over the hillock, which had been disarranged +by the hunters, and in doing so his hand fell on something hard hidden +in the long grass by the side of his grandmother's grave. He drew it +forth. It was a gold chain, on which was suspended a jewelled locket +containing the portrait of a lady beautifully painted on ivory. The +back of the locket was enamelled with sundry heraldic devices which +Philip did not understand. He stood for a moment looking at the picture +in a kind of ecstacy, for Philip loved everything beautiful with a +real passion. Then, hearing voices, he dropped chain and locket into +his pocket, and turned again to his work as the two counts, Victor and +Maurice, entered the churchyard.</p> + +<p>"I must take one more look," he heard Count Maurice say, in tones of +deep regret. "I cannot bear to give it up."</p> + +<p>"I fear you will have to do so," answered his brother. "Doubtless both +chain and locket have been picked up by some of the boors about here. +Your best chance is to offer a reward for it, though I fear it is too +late even for that. I grieve over the loss, for it was our only good +likeness of our dear mother. Are you sure you had it on the night of +the hunt? You know Count Hanau went away the next day, and I think +he has those in his train to whose fingers such a trifle might stick +easily enough."</p> + +<p>"Yes, but I am quite sure that I had it.—Well, my boy, what will you +have of me?"</p> + +<p>For Philip had drawn near, and, hat in hand, was evidently waiting to +be spoken to.</p> + +<p>"Is it a locket and picture that Your Highness has lost?" asked Philip, +modestly.</p> + +<p>"Yes, a locket and picture of a lady. Have you heard of any such thing +being found?"</p> + +<p>Philip took the chain and picture from his pocket and placed it in its +owner's hand.</p> + +<p>"I found it just now in the grass by my brother's grave," said he. "I +thought it might belong to some one at the Schloss."</p> + +<p>"And what would you have done if you had not found the owner, my boy?" +asked Count Victor, for Maurice was for the moment too happy in his +recovered treasure to say a word.</p> + +<p>"I would have taken it to my uncle Franz the huntsman," answered +Philip; "but I am glad to have found it for His Highness, because he +was kind to my mother."</p> + +<p>"Kind to your mother? When?" asked Count Maurice.</p> + +<p>"On the day my little brother was buried," answered Philip. "You told +her that the Americans were not cruel. You made her cry, and she has +been better ever since."</p> + +<p>"A small matter for gratitude!" said Count Maurice. "I remember now. +Your father was a recruit. But, my boy, you have done me a great +service. This picture is very dear to me. What shall I do for you in +return?"</p> + +<p>"Give him a gold-piece," said Count Victor; "I dare say he would like +to spend it at the fair."</p> + +<p>"I do not ask any reward," said Philip, blushing; "only, if I might +make so bold—if Your Highness would condescend so far—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, you need not make any apologies," said Count Maurice, +good-humouredly. "My Highness is no such very grand personage if you +come to that, since my whole domain is not very much bigger than your +father's farm. But what can I do to give you pleasure?"</p> + +<p>"If Your Highness would come to our house again and tell my mother more +about America," answered Philip. "What you said the other night did her +so much good. Even Brother Gotthold has never been in America, though +he is going some day. If Your Highness would but visit us again—"</p> + +<p>"I will certainly do so, and that very soon," said Count Maurice. +"Meanwhile, do me the favour to spend this gold-piece for anything +you may fancy. Nay, you must not refuse. That is not gracious.—The +youngster has an independent spirit," he observed to his brother as +they turned away and left the churchyard.</p> + +<p>"There are plenty more like him," answered Count Victor. "The spirit +of independence is in the very air nowadays; and if it is so now, +how do you think it will be when the men come home from America? Our +countrymen are not all blockheads. They will learn what the Americans +are fighting about."</p> + +<p>"A good many will not come back," observed count Maurice. "They are +deserting by hundreds at a time, I hear, and the country-people are +kind to them and afford them shelter and food."</p> + +<p>"And small blame to them! Who would not do the same, treated as these +poor villagers have been? For my part, I would like to emigrate to +America myself, settle on a farm in the wilderness, and follow the laws +of Nature among her savage children."</p> + +<p>"Or have the laws of Nature follow you in the shape of a sound ague or +a country fever," said Count Maurice, laughing, "or perhaps furnish a +spectacle to her savage children in their own peculiar manner."</p> + +<p>"As well that as the aimless life one lives now—a slave to court +formalities and royal etiquette, or, at the best, dancing attendance on +old Fritz and observing his humours."</p> + +<p>"I would rather be a slave to court formalities than to a Mohawk +Indian," said Count Maurice.</p> + +<p>"You are not like me, Maurice," said Count Victor. "These things pass +lightly over you. You take the good and leave the evil. I wish I had +been made like you—or rather, I wish I had never been born at all," +said the young man, bitterly.</p> + +<p>"And what would become of me without you, my poor Victor, my other +self?" said Maurice, pressing his brother's arm. "Remember, I have had +no such crushing sorrow as yours. I wish I could comfort you."</p> + +<p>"There is no comfort—none—either in heaven or on earth," said Victor, +passionately. "Nothing can ever give me back my Emma or undo the wrong +which this horrible royal punctilio has done us both."</p> + +<p>"Yet Emma herself found comfort," observed Maurice.</p> + +<p>"Emma was a believer," answered his brother. "Maurice, I would cut +off my right hand before I would say a word to shake the faith of a +child in the Christian religion. Those who do so are like a man who +should rob another in the desert of his water-skins, promising him wine +instead, and then leave him to perish of thirst. But come, we should be +returning to the Schloss."</p> + +<p>"What say you to going to church?" asked Maurice. "I hear the old +missionary is to preach."</p> + +<p>Victor agreed, and the brothers returned to the lodge.</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<h2><a id="Chapter_3">CHAPTER III.</a></h2> + +<p class="t3"> +<em>THE COUNT'S VISIT.</em><br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>SERVICE-TIME found the little church of Nonnenwald filled to its utmost +capacity, which was not very great, so that some of the men had to sit +on the step of the pulpit or find an uneasy perch on the two or three +altar-shaped tomb; which made the small space within the walls still +smaller. All the country-people came to church, for the tidings of the +wolf-hunt had spread far and wide, and every one wished to hear the +news and discuss the capture. There was some staring when Gertrude +Reinhart in her deep mourning-veil entered the seat which she had not +occupied for four years, and more when the counts Maurice and Victor +came in and sat down in the pastor's pew. But the staring was nothing +to that which ensued when Brother Gotthold, the Moravian missionary, +ascended the pulpit in place of the old Lutheran pastor. Such a thing +had never happened before during all the fifty years of Doctor Martin +Fisher's pastorate.</p> + +<p>In a few words Brother Gotthold explained the matter:</p> + +<p>"Your respected pastor, I regret to say, is too ill this morning to +leave the house; and as it seemed a pity to dismiss the congregation +without a discourse, he has asked me to fill his place, which I shall +do as well as I am able."</p> + +<p>"He may well say that," whispered the schoolmaster to the shoemaker. +"I say it is a scandal for a wandering preacher to be asked into the +pulpit when there are those in the parish who could fill it with some +credit. I don't know what the consistory will say, for my part. It is +just an offshoot of French infidelity—that's what it is."</p> + +<p>The shoemaker made a motion with his head which might pass either for +a nod or a shake, and turned away. He did not care to engage in a +whispering conversation under the bright, earnest eyes which looked +down from the pulpit. Herr Franck drew himself up with offended +dignity, took a large pinch of snuff, and prepared himself to be +critical in respect to style and watchful for unsound doctrine.</p> + +<p>Nobody else cared to be critical. Brother Gotthold was well +known through all the neighbourhood, and a good many glances of +congratulation were exchanged. Even Herr Franck could find no fault +with the way he went through the opening services. He took for his text +the first verses of the fourteenth chapter of John.</p> + +<p class="letter"> +<br> + "Let not your heart be troubled: ye believe in God, believe also in me.<br> +<br> + "In my Father's house are many mansions. I go to prepare a place for +you."<br> +<br> +</p> + +<p>The discourse was so simple that little Gustaf could understand every +word, but it held the attention of the listeners wonderfully. Fat old +Farmer Fuchstein, who had regularly slept through every sermon he had +attended for over thirty years, kept wide awake all through, and wiped +his eyes more than once. The sermon was upon the consolations of the +gospel for the bereaved, for the suffering, for the penitent. Many a +head was bowed and many an eye dim with tears as the preacher alluded +tenderly to those whose friends were far away across the sea; and when +he reminded his hearers that the eternal rest was as near in America as +in Germany, and that no man could go beyond the reach of his Father's +love and protection, there was a universal burst of sobs. Count Maurice +himself listened with evident and deep interest; and as for Count +Victor, he never took his eyes from the preacher's face. There was a +general sigh when the sermon was concluded and the people gathered in +the churchyard.</p> + +<p>"Call that a sermon?" said Herr Franck. "Where was the deep divinity, +the Greek and Latin, and the fine, long, rolling sentences of our +doctor? Why, a child could understand every word. I dare say even silly +Hans knows what it was about.—Here, Hans, tell me what the minister +talked about."</p> + +<p>"About heaven," answered the simpleton readily—"the good place where +the angels live and there are no schoolmasters."</p> + +<p>"Good boy!" exclaimed Farmer Fuchstein, with a great laugh. "But why +dost thou think there are no schoolmasters in heaven, Hans?"</p> + +<p>"Because nobody cries there," answered Hans. "The preacher says so."</p> + +<p>Another laugh followed, and the schoolmaster stalked away greatly +offended.</p> + +<p>"Such a sermon as 'I' could have given them!" he said to himself. "And +nobody so much as thinks of me—not even the pastor. 'Tis an ungrateful +world. Not one of these lads but I have whipped all through the +alphabet, and yet they are all ready to grin when I am laughed at. But +we shall see what the consistory will say."</p> + +<p>Count Maurice and his brother walked away arm in arm as usual, but in +silence, which was not usual, since Maurice commonly talked for himself +and his brother too.</p> + +<p>At last Victor said, with a deep sigh,—</p> + +<p>"Maurice, I would give all I have in the world to believe what that man +said this morning."</p> + +<p>"And I would give it for you if such a belief would be a comfort to +you. But, Victor, why not find out the preacher and talk with him?"</p> + +<p>"I have talked with so many, and they never did me any good," said +Victor.</p> + +<p>"I don't remember ever seeing you study the Bible for yourself," said +Maurice, simply.</p> + +<p>Victor turned an inquiring look on his brother.</p> + +<p>"Study the Bible?" he repeated.</p> + +<p>"Why, yes. When you wished to learn mathematics, you did not content +yourself with talking to professors; you got the books and worked out +the problems for yourself. Why don't you do so now? Bibles are not so +rare and inaccessible, and you have one."</p> + +<p>"I know," said Victor as his brother paused. "I have treasured it, but +I never thought of studying it."</p> + +<p>They walked on in silence a few minutes, and then Maurice said, in his +peculiar matter-of-fact way,—</p> + +<p>"After all, Victor, in one way these simple Christian folks have one +more chance on their side than we people of advanced ideas."</p> + +<p>"One more chance?" answered Victor, rousing himself from abstraction, +as usual. "What do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"Why, if the French philosophers are right, these people are as well +off as we are now, and it will all come to the same thing in the end, +since there is no danger that the annihilated philosophers will laugh +at them, as somebody says. Nay, in one sense they are better off, since +they really do take a good deal of comfort in their belief. But if +yonder good missionary and his followers are right, 'we' are making +rather an awful mistake. A calculation which has eternity as one of its +elements has more need to be correct than a problem in your favourite +algebra."</p> + +<p>"You are right," said Victor.</p> + +<p>"Will you go with me to see the poor woman—Frau Reinhart, I think they +call her?" asked Maurice, after another long silence. "This is our last +day, you know, and perhaps we may come upon the preacher. I believe he +lodges with her."</p> + +<p>"Frau Reinhart? Oh yes, the mother of our young friend of the +churchyard. Certainly I will go with you. Anywhere rather than to that +dinner at the Schloss, with its wine-drinking and stupid jesting, and +the two priests watching one's every word and looking like ravens +watching over a flock of sheep."</p> + +<p>"Oh, come! You are too hard on the good fathers. The elder at least +is a kind-hearted man, and very good company. But I am as willing as +yourself to escape the dinner. Perhaps the good woman will offer us +some refreshment, or we will dine at the little inn. This is the house. +Shall we knock?"</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>"I trust you will do nothing rash, dame," said Count Maurice, somewhat +anxiously.</p> + +<p>"There is no fear," answered Gertrude; and it was wonderful to see how +a bright smile transformed her face. "Have I not these children to +think for? But Your Highness' words have given me a new hope; they have +revived the life that was well-nigh dead within me. I am strong yet. I +and my children can work, and you say no one need want work in America."</p> + +<p>"Leisure is much more to seek than work, I do assure you, good dame. +Ladies of birth and education in the northern colonies—so I am credibly +informed—perform all the menial offices of their households because +there are no servants. I have myself dined at the house of a gentleman +where the dinner was cooked by the hands of the lady and her daughters, +and well cooked too.—And that reminds me to ask for my brother. I dare +say he has forgotten that we have had nothing to-day but a crust and a +glass of wine."</p> + +<p>"If Your Highness would partake of our coarse fare, I should be only +too much honoured to prepare refreshments for you," said Gertrude, +eagerly. "I have a pie and some sausages which my uncle's wife sent me, +and we have cream and fresh butter. If Your Highness could eat black +bread—I fear there is none other to be had, but ours is sweet and good."</p> + +<p>Count Maurice was a very good-natured man as well as a very fine +gentleman in the true sense of those abused words. He loved to give +pleasure and he knew how to do it—how to enter into the feelings +of those about him. He had no trouble in seeming interested in his +fellow-creatures, simply because he really was interested. This was a +secret which the landgrave never could understand. He admired his young +cousin's easy manners and tried to imitate them, for he really did want +his people to like him, but he never succeeded. It was the ox trying to +imitate the frolics of the greyhound.</p> + +<p>Count Maurice readily and gracefully accepted the hospitality of +Gertrude Reinhart, partly because he wished to give her pleasure, and +partly because he was hungry and wanted his dinner; consequently, he +did so without either awkwardness or condescension.</p> + +<p>When the widow called her daughter to help her, Margaret was amazed at +the change in her mother's face. It was like the mother she remembered +years ago. She wondered what the count could have been telling her.</p> + +<p>Meantime, Count Maurice entered into conversation with Philip, looked +at and praised his wood-carving, and advised him to study drawing.</p> + +<p>"But I have no master," said Philip, doubtfully.</p> + +<p>"You have pencil and paper, and you have the things before you. Work +at what you have, and the rest will come. The hand which carved this +deer's head and this bunch of acorns should soon be able to do better +things. But what have we here?"</p> + +<p>"It is the design I have been trying to make for a cross to mark my +little brother's grave," said Philip; "but it does not satisfy me."</p> + +<p>"Philip, you will make an artist," said Count Maurice. "The world will +hear of you some day."</p> + +<p>"The pastor used to say that of my father," said Philip, flushing high +at the unexpected praise. "He said that Providence designed him for +an artist, and that he ought to leave his forge and go to the city to +study."</p> + +<p>"And what said your father?"</p> + +<p>"He answered merrily that when Providence had given a man a good trade +and a young family, it had given him two things which were meant to be +kept together," answered Philip. "My father was the best blacksmith +and wheelwright in all the country round. If he had been here, the +landgrave's horse would not have spoiled the hunt by falling lame the +other day."</p> + +<p>Count Maurice smiled. He had a shrewd notion that the landgrave's +superstitious dread of the ill omen involved in meeting the funeral had +quite as much to do with breaking off the hunt as the lameness of his +horse, which nobody perceived but himself.</p> + +<p>But he said nothing; and Gertrude having finished her simple +preparations, Count Victor was called, and the two brothers satisfied +her by making a hearty meal.</p> + +<p>"Well, what did your friend the preacher say to you?" asked Maurice +of his brother as they were walking homeward. "Something pleasant, to +judge by your face."</p> + +<p>"Much that was pleasant," answered Victor, "but chiefly he echoed your +advice—that I should study the Bible and let alone the works of men for +a while.—Maurice, I wondered this morning what had brought us to this +place. I think I know now."</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>That evening Gertrude called her children about her and explained her +plan fully to them. A new prospect had opened before her, a new hope +arisen in her mind, which made her feel again some of the spring and +energy of youth, before misfortune after misfortune had crushed her to +the earth. She had heard that in America there was room for every one +who wished to work; that many Germans had gone thither already and were +prospering; that there were schools and churches and no one to impose +arbitrary taxes or carry men away from their families and sell their +blood for money.</p> + +<p>"It is a good land, and many of our countrymen are there already. We +will save what money we can for a year or two, sell what we have here, +and go thither."</p> + +<p>Margaret's face brightened for a moment, and then fell again.</p> + +<p>"But if my father should come back and find us gone?" said she.</p> + +<p>"We cannot make any move for two or three years yet," answered her +mother. "By that time, we shall have certain news one way or other. The +count says every one believes that the war will come to an end before +long, and that the Americans are sure to win. We shall need to work +hard and save money. We will buy back our cows and—But this is not the +time to speak of business," she added, checking herself. "We will talk +it all over to-morrow."</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>"Are you not pleased with the thought of going to America?" said +Margaret to Philip as they went to take a last look at the hens and to +see that all was secure.</p> + +<p>"I am pleased with whatever pleases my mother," answered Philip. "It is +good to see her smile once more as she used to do."</p> + +<p>"And shall you not like to go to America?"</p> + +<p>"I cannot tell that till I know a little more what America is like. +His Highness says many fine things about it, and some that are not so +fine—about the agues and the wild beasts and the savages."</p> + +<p>"Oh, you always look on the dark side."</p> + +<p>"And then it is a great undertaking, Greta. We think it a great thing +to visit Fulda or Eisenach; and when Uncle Hans went to Frankfort last +year, the whole village turned out to see him go. But America is a long +way beyond Frankfort."</p> + +<p>"And, in short, you mean to spoil and hinder all you can," said +Margaret, angrily. "You care for nothing but carving and flowers and +making pretty things like a girl. You ought to be the woman and I the +man to go out into life."</p> + +<p>"And get your head broken the first day with your tongue," said Philip. +"'Men' don't talk to each other as you talk to me, Greta. If they did, +there would be more quarrels than there are now. There is not a boy in +the whole village who would dare to tell me I ought to be a girl."</p> + +<p>"I will take that back," said Margaret, rather ashamed. "I know I hurt +people's feelings ever so many times; but oh, Philip, if you knew +how I mourn for father and for the change in my mother! It makes me +desperate. But you don't make any allowance for my troubles. Nobody +does!"</p> + +<p>"They are not 'my' troubles, I suppose?" said Philip, in the tone which +always seemed to become more measured and gentle the more deeply he was +moved. "It is nothing to me to go to bed without poor little Fritz, +whom I have nursed ever since he was born, who knew and loved me when +he knew no one else. Oh, my baby, my innocent darling!" And Philip +leaned his head against the door of the henhouse and wept bitterly with +those deep, in-drawn sobs which are so dreadful to hear.</p> + +<p>Never had Margaret seen him give way so entirely. She had always given +herself credit for having far deeper feeling than her brother. She had +a kind of violent impatience of grief which made her rebel against it +angrily, while Philip never complained and seldom gave way. She said to +herself, and found some comfort in saying, that none of them, not even +her mother, felt the family calamities as she did; but now she began +to have an inkling that she was not, after all, so very superior to +her quiet and cheerful brother. She stood silent and awkward, provoked +at the pain in her conscience and at Philip for causing it, wishing to +comfort him, but not knowing how.</p> + +<p>At last, she put her arm round his neck:</p> + +<p>"Don't cry so, Philip—don't! You will make yourself sick. Don't you +know what Brother Gotthold said this morning? Think how happy the dear +little fellow is now, and how you will see him again some day. Yes, I +am sure you will."</p> + +<p>"I know," answered Philip, checking his sobs and pressing the hand +which Margaret put into his; "but oh, Greta, you don't know how I miss +him."</p> + +<p>There was a little silence, and then Margaret said, anxiously,—</p> + +<p>"But, Philip, you won't oppose this plan, will you? Think what it is to +see mother smile again!"</p> + +<p>"Not only will I not oppose it, but I will do all I can to help it on," +answered Philip. "I have already thought of a plan whereby I can earn +something in the long evenings that are coming, and to-morrow we will +talk it over. It is time to go to bed now."</p> + +<p>"And you are not angry with me?" asked Margaret, penitently.</p> + +<p>"Oh no," said Philip, cheerfully. "Good-night!"</p> + +<p>Margaret crept away to her own little room with an uncomfortable +feeling of humiliation and something like self-contempt at her heart. +She had always been used to look down on Philip and think that she +should have been the eldest son. Philip was always so quiet and +cheerful.</p> + +<p>"He took things so easily," Margaret said; "nothing seemed to touch +him."</p> + +<p>In the worst of their dark days, when he had been obliged to come home +from Fulda where he had been studying with his uncle, and to give up +the idea of going to college—when they had to sell their cows to meet +the expenses of the mother's long illness, and when it became known +that Fritz would always be an innocent—even then Philip could smile +and play with the children, and when he had a little spare time could +find pleasure in carving plants and leaves, in gathering crystals and +flowers and watching the colours of the sunset.</p> + +<p>All these things Greta had set down in her own mind as marks of a +frivolous, light-minded disposition. It was she who had to bear the +burden of everything, as she said, and she shut her eyes to the +fact that Philip quietly and silently took on himself all the more +disagreeable parts of the work, both in the house and in the field; +that it was Philip who amused Fritz by day and slept with him or +oftener watched with him at night, who kept him out of mischief and +taught him the few things he was capable of learning.</p> + +<p>She had shut her eyes to all these things, as I said, but now they +seemed to be suddenly opened. She remembered with a pang of remorse +the hundreds of times she had spoken sharply to the poor innocent, how +many times she had thrown his stores of pebbles and acorns out of the +window and knocked down his block houses, and then she remembered, +that last day, how Fritz had begged to go and see the new calf and she +had refused to take him because she was engaged in putting the last +stitches to a new hood.</p> + +<p>"Philip would have laid down his best piece of carving to please the +child," she thought.</p> + +<p>And then a cold, sick shudder came over her. If she had gone with Fritz +in the daytime, perhaps he would not have stolen out at night, and he +might have been here now. Philip had known of her refusal, and yet he +had never spoken one word of reproach.</p> + +<p>Greta had been much in the habit of spending an hour or so before +going to bed in dwelling on her grievances and picturing to herself a +state of life in which all should be made easy and pleasant—when she +should be surrounded by luxuries and splendour, dress in velvet and +jewels, and associate with nobles and princes. To-night, however, the +hour was spent very differently—in honest repentance, confession, and +humiliation of herself before her heavenly Father, in self-examination +and comparison of herself with the standard of God's word. This was +not one of those gusty paroxysms of exaggerated self-reproach and +violent weeping in which she had not seldom indulged when she could not +help seeing that she had been in the wrong, and which left her more +self-satisfied than before. Now she felt a genuine conviction of her +own unworthiness and helplessness, and cried earnestly for help to the +Strong. That hour had its influence over Greta's whole life.</p> + +<p>Philip, too, had his exercises in his own little room, which he had +so long shared with Fritz. This scheme of going to America would, if +carried out, be a deathblow to his dearest hope—a hope long cherished +in secret, and which had to-day received new life from the words of, +Count Maurice: "You should be an artist."</p> + +<p>Philip loved everything that was beautiful. That which had been talent +and knack in his father, in him rose to something like genius. There +lived in the neighbourhood of Fulda a nobleman who had a fine gallery +of pictures and statues. He was a good-natured man and not averse to a +little gossip now and then with the schoolmaster, Philip's uncle, on +his favourite subjects of the odes of Horace and the Greek metres; and +finding Philip had a fancy for drawing, he invited the boy to come and +see his pictures whenever he liked.</p> + +<p>Philip went, and found a new world opened to him. Was it possible that +he could ever make anything like that gladiator sinking and dying +there in the marble—like that wonderful Venus with her broken arms +upraised and her foot on the tortoise? From that hour, Philip's darling +dream was that he might some day go to Rome and study under some of +those great masters of whom he had heard. He had now been at home for +two years, where he had no chance to see a picture or statue, and no +one with whom he could talk over his plans, but none the less had he +cherished them in secret. But now, if this new plan were carried out, +all must be given up. A new country would be no place for an artist; +there would be nothing but rough work to do.</p> + +<p>Philip did not fear work or hardship. He knew, before he heard it from +Count Maurice, that a great many Germans had emigrated to America and +done well there. He had heard a letter read which such an emigrant had +written to his brother in Fulda, telling of the large farm, of the cows +and sheep and horses, and the money that was to be made. It would be a +grand opening for Gustaf—better than working day and night for a mere +subsistence, and perhaps, after all, to be carried off as his father +had been the next time the landgrave wanted to sell some of his people +for money. Then, as Greta said, it was a great thing to see his mother +smile again.</p> + +<p>Philip had been sitting on the foot of his bed in the dark. He got up; +and striking a light, he went to the cupboard in the wall where he kept +his choicest working materials and tools. In a far corner was something +carefully covered up with a cloth. Philip drew it forward reverently +and unrolled it. It was a block of alabaster, of the clear, fine grain +found in the Thuringerwald, partly carved into the semblance of a +child's head. The carving was unfinished and faulty in many respects, +yet an artist would have seen in it marks of true genius. The eyes were +a little out of proportion, but they saw. The mouth smiled and the +whole thing was full of expression. It was, in fact, a fair portrait of +the little child that was gone. Philip looked at it and kissed it. Then +he covered it again and put it back in its place.</p> + +<p>Then he closed the door, put out his lamp, and threw himself on his +knees by the bedside. How long he remained there he knew not, and only +one Eye saw what passed in his mind. To that One with strong crying and +tears he appealed, and he was heard.</p> + +<p>"Herein we perceive the love of God, because he laid down his life for +us; and we ought also to lay down our lives for the brethren."</p> + +<p>Philip Reinhart laid down his life at his Saviour's feet that night, +and the sacrifice was accepted.</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<h2><a id="Chapter_4">CHAPTER IV.</a></h2> + +<p class="t3"> +<em>THE MISCHIANZA.</em><br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>WE must now go back to the month of June, 1778. The winter just +passed had been one of the darkest of the war to the Americans. Their +little army, encamped at Valley Forge, had suffered for want of every +necessary of life, notwithstanding the efforts made all over the +country to relieve them. It was some comfort to the poor fellows that +Washington and his wife lived with them and shared their perils and +distresses. The Indians were out all along the frontier, and with them +were leagued Tories and renegade whites more savage than themselves. +There were divisions among the Americans themselves, and a cabal was +formed for the avowed object of ruining the commander-in-chief. It was +a dark and gloomy time.</p> + +<p>The English, on the contrary, were having very comfortable times. Lord +Howe had possession of Philadelphia, and his officers were passing +a very jolly winter, getting up balls and parties without number, +flirting with the fair daughters of their Tory friends, and too often +outraging all decency in their frolics and the company they kept. Howe +had gained full command of the Delaware not without some trouble and +loss. His forces had been repulsed at Fort Mercer, and he had lost a +gallant officer, Count Donop, commander of the Hessian forces. The poor +young man was saved from lingering misery by one of the French officers +to die in the midst of kindly care, as he said, "the victim of his own +ambition and the avarice of his sovereign." Still, Howe had succeeded +at last, and the river was his, so that the British ships came and went +at pleasure.</p> + +<p>In May, Sir William Howe resigned his place, and was succeeded by Sir +Henry Clinton. It was on this occasion, and by way of doing honour to +the departing general, that certain officers got up the notable scheme +of the "Mischianza," a kind of tournament, followed by a grand ball +and supper. There were seven knights of the "Blended Rose,"—whatever +that might be—and seven of the "Burning Mountain," and ladies dressed +in Turkish costume, and black servants with velvet tunics and silver +armlets, and a triumphal arch with a figure of Fame blowing from her +trumpet the words, "Thy laurels are immortal," and a great deal of +other parade and display.</p> + +<p>The unlucky Major André was one of the chief promoters of this grand +performance, and wrote a glowing description of the same to a friend +in England, which was published in the "Annual Register," where it +may still be read by the curious, and which provoked some satirical +comments. It was thought that a general who, with nineteen thousand +disciplined men and abundant material resources, had allowed himself to +be cooped up in Philadelphia and kept in a state of siege by a handful, +as it were, of ragged, barefooted, half-starved, and half-disciplined +troops, * need not have so readily accepted such a dish of adulation +or swallowed it with such a grave face. The same feeling was shared by +some of his own men.</p> + +<p class="footnote"> +<br>* Howe seems greatly to have overrated the strength of Washington's +army. See "Annual Register."<br> +<br> +</p> + +<p>It was the afternoon before the grand pageant was to take place. Some +iron-work was needed which required a more skilful hand than that of +an ordinary workman. Caspar Reinhart, blacksmith to one of the Hessian +regiments, was known to be a most accomplished smith, and to possess a +good deal of skill in ornamental work, and Major André applied to his +colonel to borrow him for the occasion.</p> + +<p>"Oh yes, you can have him, of course, and he vill do your vork +vell—dere is no doubt of dat," said the good-natured German. "Reinhart +is as goot a smit as is in de army."</p> + +<p>"And you, colonel—will you grace our festival to-morrow? It will be a +fine sight, I can tell you."</p> + +<p>"It will be a — of a sight, to my mind," said Colonel von Falkenstein, +using a German adjective neither elegant nor complimentary. "We haf +been fooling away time all dis vinter, and now ve are fooling away +money; dat is shoost the truth, Major André. De Yankees will make +demselves fun for us, and vith goot reason; and old Steuben—yes, I know +what he will say. No, I shall not go to see your pasteboard knights and +painted ladies. I shall stay at home and write to mine frau—my wife—for +I believe we shall move from here before long."</p> + +<p>"But you will let me have the smith?" said André, who had no mind to +quarrel with the old soldier.</p> + +<p>"Oh yes, to pe sure you can haf the smit, and a goot workman he is, and +a goot soldier, though he will never speak one word he can help. But he +can speak English shust so goot as I myself can."</p> + +<p>"That leaves nothing to be desired," said Major André, gravely. "But I +must hasten back to my work."</p> + +<p>"Very goot; I will send Reinhart after you."</p> + +<p>And thus it happened that Caspar Reinhart was engaged on some of the +ornamental wirework of the tilt-yard, as it was called. Colonel von +Falkenstein had not over-praised him when he called him a good soldier, +though a very silent one, and an admirable workman.</p> + +<p>Caspar listened to the instructions of the major, now and then +suggesting a slight improvement or respectfully pointing out a +difficulty. He then informed Major André that he should want +such-and-such things—an anvil and forge and a man to help him.</p> + +<p>"How very well you speak English!" said Major André.</p> + +<p>"I have taken pains to learn it," was the answer.</p> + +<p>"You would do famously on secret service," said the major, struck with +a sudden thought. "Nobody would know you from one of the Germans born +in the country. You would make a capital spy."</p> + +<p>Caspar made no answer to this remark, which was not to his taste, if +one might judge by the sudden darkening of his brow, but set himself +at once to work moving things out of his way and preparing for his +undertaking. It was not long before one of the portable army-forges was +set up, the charcoal furnished, and the fire kindled, but an assistant +seemed to be lacking.</p> + +<p>"Here is a man to serve your turn, Reinhart," said Major André, +presently reappearing with a tall, somewhat countryfied-looking man, +whose broad-brimmed hat and butternut-coloured clothes seemed to mark +him for one of the Society of Friends. "Nathan here understands your +trade.—Did you say your name was Nathan or Nathaniel, my Quaker friend?"</p> + +<p>"Neither, friend," answered the new comer, quietly. "My name is +Jonathan Elmer; and having come to this place about my own business, I +have no objection to earn an honest penny before I leave it. Neither am +I a Friend or Quaker, as thee calls them, but my wife's folks are of +that persuasion, and I have caught their ways."</p> + +<p>"And pray what was your business, Master Jonathan Elmer, if I may make +so bold as to inquire," said André, somewhat suspiciously; "and how did +you come hither without a pass?"</p> + +<p>"My business here is to look after a debtor who I have reason to think +means to run away," answered Jonathan, with the same calmness. "As to +my pass, I have shown it to thy commanding officer, and will do the +same for thee if thou wilt, taking the freedom at the same time to +observe that the fire is wasting and this friend who has thy work in +charge is growing impatient."</p> + +<p>"And that is true," said Major André. "Go about your work, and you +shall be well paid, both of you."</p> + +<p>The two smiths went to work with a will, and Caspar found his new +acquaintance an intelligent assistant, though he talked as much as +he worked and asked a great many questions—so many that Caspar's +suspicions began to be aroused.</p> + +<p>"What does thee mean to do when this war is over?" asked Jonathan Elmer +as the two together were fixing in its place a bit of iron railing.</p> + +<p>"Go home to my family, if they will let me," answered Caspar, shortly.</p> + +<p>"I have heard that many of the Hessians did not come of their own +accord?"</p> + +<p>"Very few of them did.—Take care; that beam is loose."</p> + +<p>"And I have heard that a great many of them have deserted. Is that +true?"</p> + +<p>"So they say."</p> + +<p>"And is it true that there is talk of evacuating Philadelphia?"</p> + +<p>"You ask too many questions, comrade," said Caspar, but not unkindly, +for something in the young man's manner drew him toward the stranger in +spite of himself. "You will be in trouble if any one hears you."</p> + +<p>"Thank thee for the caution," said Elmer. "It is indeed not wise to +give way to unrestrained curiosity, and for my wife's sake as well as +my own, I should not like to get into trouble."</p> + +<p>"Then you have a wife?" asked Caspar.</p> + +<p>"Yes, indeed—as fair and good as lives—and three promising children, +though I say it that shouldn't. And you—There! I beg your pardon," said +Jonathan Elmer. "I see I have touched a sore spot. Pray forgive me."</p> + +<p>"There needs no forgiveness," answered Caspar, choking down his +emotion. "I left a wife and four children at home without even a +leave-taking."</p> + +<p>"You did not desert them, surely?"</p> + +<p>"Heaven forbid! but I was carried away without the chance of speaking a +word to my family.—Is that firm, think you? I am not sure of it."</p> + +<p>"As firm as it can be made with the stupid work of these British +carpenters. 'Tis a wonder if the whole is not down when any weight +comes on it. Take care!"</p> + +<p>As he spoke, the whole ornamental work of the screen on which they were +engaged cracked and fell with a tremendous crash. A large beam fell +just where Caspar had been standing, and but for his companion's quick +sight and sudden action in drawing him away would have crushed him to +the earth. Some of the light lattice-work grazed his cheek as it was.</p> + +<p>"You have saved my life," said Caspar as soon as he could speak for the +lime-dust which filled his mouth and eyes. "But what—"</p> + +<p>"Hush! Hush!" said his companion, hastily readjusting the hat and wig, +which had been displaced and showed underneath fair hair and a skin +unstained by butternut juice. "Are you hurt?"</p> + +<p>"No; thanks to your wit and strong arm, am safe. And you?"</p> + +<p>"Not a bit, not a bit!" answered Captain Elmer. "But it was an unlucky +thing for me. My life is in your hands, Friend Reinhart; will you sell +it?"</p> + +<p>"What do you take me for?" asked Caspar, indignantly. "Am I a dog of +Tory?"</p> + +<p>"No, truly; but we of the Jerseys have little reason to love or trust +the Hessians. Well, do what you will; 'tis but the fortune of war."</p> + +<p>"Hush!" said Caspar, imperatively. "Here comes the English major. You +have been hurt by the beam, and can hardly stand; do you comprehend?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes! But you. Don't let me get you into trouble!"</p> + +<p>"Hush!" said Caspar, again.</p> + +<p>And at that moment, Major André made his appearance on the scene.</p> + +<p>"What is the matter? Oh, I see. I told Barne the screen would never +stand. Was any one hurt? What! You, my good fellow?"</p> + +<p>"Not much," answered the pretended blacksmith, setting his teeth as in +pain—"only my shin; but it aches for the minute, and I don't believe I +am good for much more work this afternoon."</p> + +<p>"We can do no more, at any rate, till the screen is set up again," +remarked Caspar.</p> + +<p>"Very well; there will be time to finish in the morning. Be on hand +bright and early. There is a guinea for you, Friend Jonathan, to buy a +plaister. You are a likely fellow, too. Suppose you enlist, take the +king's money, and help to drive the Yankees out of Pennsylvania?"</p> + +<p>"I should make but a poor hand at thy carnal weapons of warfare, +friend," answered Jonathan Elmer, coolly pocketing the money. "Thank +thee for thy proffer, all the same."</p> + +<p>"I say! Where do you lodge, in case I want you again?" said Major André.</p> + +<p>"At the sign of the Fast Horse, in Second street," answered Jonathan.</p> + +<p>"Very good; I shall know where to find you. I must hunt up my precious +carpenters and make them do their work over again."</p> + +<p>"Now he is gone, you had better be going too," said Caspar.</p> + +<p>"I am entirely of your opinion," answered Captain Elmer. "If I saved +your life, you have spared mine, so we are fairly even, since you might +have betrayed me to yonder prince of popinjays with a word. Should you +ever be in straits within the American lines, ask for Jonathan Elmer. +And here: take this for a keepsake."</p> + +<p>"What will you do?" asked Caspar, mechanically holding the watch which +Captain Elmer put into his hands.</p> + +<p>"Well enough, never fear. I have friends enough in town, and I know +every creek on the Delaware. Farewell! I see our fine major coming this +way again."</p> + +<p>Jonathan Elmer limped deliberately away till he had turned the corner, +when he exchanged his limp for a rapid walk, turned the corner of a +narrow alley leading to the water, and was out of sight in an instant.</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<h2><a id="Chapter_5">CHAPTER V.</a></h2> + +<p class="t3"> +<em>A DOOR OPENED.</em><br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>VERY early in his military career, Caspar Reinhart had earned the +character given him by old Von Falkenstein—of being one of the best +men, and altogether the most silent man, in the whole force. Snatched +without warning from home and family and all that he held dear, he +was at first like one stunned by a heavy blow. He could feel nothing +but a cold, benumbing sense of utter desolation. As the days went on, +carrying him farther and farther from all that made life worth having, +this first feeling was succeeded by one of burning rage against those +who had been the cause of his misfortune, more especially against the +landgrave and Captain Burger, who had commanded the kidnapping party +who took him prisoner. It is impossible to have such a feeling in +one's heart and not betray it in some way; and so it came to pass that +Captain Burger knew that Caspar Reinhart both hated and despised him.</p> + +<p>Now, it takes a great man to despise contempt. Captain Burger was not a +great man, but a very small one, and he returned Casper's hatred with +interest, and was all the more angry because his enemy gave him no +cause of complaint. No man was better at drill or neater in his dress +than Reinhart, none more punctiliously respectful in manner or more +attentive to his general duty. There was actually nothing to lay hold +of. Nevertheless, Captain Burger hated Reinhart and spited him on every +occasion.</p> + +<p>But their connection was not to last long, which was well for both of +them. A smith was wanted for a cavalry regiment, and inquiry was made +among the men.</p> + +<p>"There is Reinhart, from Nonnenwald," said Reinhart's colonel, who was +a friend of old Von Falkenstein. "His father was the best smith in +all the country, and he brought up his son to his own trade. I think +Reinhart would suit you exactly. He is in Burger's company at present, +and would be well out of it. Reinhart is no common man. He is somewhat +educated and very well behaved, but he is thrown away where he is; and +besides, they tell me Burger spites him whenever he can get a chance to +do so."</p> + +<p>"How is it that you come to know him so well?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I knew his father before him, and so feel interested for him. I +should like to get him out of Burger's way."</p> + +<p>"Burger is a stupid coxcomb of a would-be Frenchman," growled the old +man.</p> + +<p>So the matter was finally settled, and Caspar found his condition much +improved by the exchange. His spirits insensibly grew brighter as he +felt his old tools once more in his hands. The dark cloud cleared away +from his brain, and he was able once more to think and to consider what +was best to be done. There was no escape from his present condition, +and all that remained was to make the best of it. He could not bring +himself to feel that he owed any duty to the sovereign who had sold him +like a sheep or the officers who had kidnapped him, but he saw that for +his own sake and that of those he had left at home, he must earn and +support a good character. He would do so to the best of his ability, +would save his wages, and at the end of the war, if he lived so long, +he would settle down in the country whither he had been brought against +his will and send for his family to come to him.</p> + +<p>Having once arrived at this conclusion, Caspar kept it steadily in +view. He worked early and late, and earned many an odd shilling and +half guinea besides his regular pay. He set himself earnestly to +work to learn English, and made very rapid progress. One day, after +a successful foraging-party in New Jersey, he heard some of his +companions laughing over their plunder.</p> + +<p>"Give it to Reinhart," he heard one of them say. "He can tell us."</p> + +<p>"Give what to Reinhart?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"A miracle! A miracle!" cried one of the men. "The smith has spoken +without being spoken to.—Come here, smith, and tell Barsch what he has +found. He thinks it is a book of Yankee magic."</p> + +<p>Reinhart took in his hand the small richly-bound volume and looked at +the title-page.</p> + +<p>"It is a Bible," said he.</p> + +<p>"A Bible! Barsch has stolen a Bible!" cried his companions. "Barsch can +set himself up for a pastor.—Come, old fellow, give us a sermon."</p> + +<p>"Hush, children!" said a gray old sergeant. "Is that the way to treat +the holy word? You will bring bad luck on us."</p> + +<p>"It is only a Yankee Bible, Father Martin," said the young man, a +little abashed.</p> + +<p>"A Bible is a Bible all over the world," returned the old sergeant. "Is +not that so, smith?"</p> + +<p>"That is true," answered Reinhart.</p> + +<p>He had held the Bible in his hands all the time, and as he turned over +its pages, a great longing seized him to have the book for his own. He +had not seen or opened a Bible since the day he was carried away, and +the very touch and sight seemed to do him good.</p> + +<p>"Will you sell me this book, Barsch?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Give it to you if you like," was the answer. "You don't think it will +bring me ill-luck, do you?"</p> + +<p>"Give him a horseshoe to wear round his neck in exchange for his book," +cried one of the men, laughing, "else some Yankee witch will come and +carry him off."</p> + +<p>A half-laughing, half-quarrelling dispute ensued, but Reinhart heard +nothing of it. Book in hand, he retreated to a quiet corner and sat +down to study his prize. He had always been given to reading when +he had time, and he thought the Bible would be a great help to that +knowledge of English which he so coveted. Every spare moment was now +spent with his book. He was familiar already with the German Lutheran +versions, and had no more trouble in making out the English than served +to impress it on his mind.</p> + +<p>He read and studied, and by degrees a new light broke upon his +darkness. A new hope arose in his heart. One of whom he had always +heard, but whom he had never known, came to him, and said,—</p> + +<p class="letter"> +<br> + "It is I: be not afraid."<br> +<br> +</p> + +<p>And Caspar believed and was comforted. He still held to his purpose +of settling in America if he should live to the close of the war, and +getting his family about him in a new home, but a brighter and higher +hope arose behind and over all. He learned to take that long look into +eternity which reduces all things else to correct perspective, like the +true point of sight in a picture.</p> + +<p>It was impossible for Reinhart not to abhor the life he was living. +He was a humane and kind-hearted man engaged in a war which it must +be confessed was one of peculiar atrocity. It is a fact that in order +to strike the more terror into the rebels, as they were called, the +Hessians were encouraged in all sorts of violence, cruelty, and +oppression. They were told that the Yankees took no prisoners except +such as they meant to make slaves of, and they were bidden to give no +quarter. In the whole of the New Jersey campaign, the Hessians robbed, +burnt, and murdered right and left, friends as well as enemies. Those +who had fondly hoped to remain neutral, relying on Sir William Howe's +protection, found they were leaning on a broken reed. The Hessians +never asked whether a man were Whig or Tory, rebel or loyal, so long +as he had what they coveted. The men were absolutely encumbered with +plunder; and as a natural consequence, their discipline was relaxed and +their own officers found it hard to manage them.</p> + +<p>Reinhart kept aloof from such scenes as much as possible, but he +was a soldier and had to obey orders, and he constantly saw things +which turned him sick with horror or made his blood boil with rage. +Sometimes, indeed, he would interfere to save a life or protect a child +from death or a woman from insult, but oftener was a helpless spectator +of the atrocities perpetrated by his comrades.</p> + +<p>Only for the hope that he might some time rejoin his family, and that +other hope which had lately arisen in his mind, he would have gone mad. +He never tried to avoid any exposure, but the bullets which laid low so +many of his companions seemed to avoid him, and he never had a scratch. +His wild companions, who had alternately abused and laughed at him, at +last began to respect the silent man who never shrank from any danger +or evaded any duty or hesitated to help a comrade in trouble, but who +absolutely refused to soil his hands with cruelty or plunder. Some of +them even whispered that he was under the protection of some superior +power; whether heavenly or not they could not tell.</p> + +<p>Caspar was early at his work the morning after the accident with the +screen. He had a shrewd guess that his clever assistant with the brown +wig would not appear again, and he had therefore brought with him one +of his own companions.</p> + +<p>The carpenter had mended the broken screen, and the light wire lattice +was once more fixed in its place when Major André appeared on the scene +with Caspar's old officer and enemy, Captain Burger. Burger had always +striven hard to assume and support the character of a fine gentleman. +He had once held a very doubtful position in one of the very smallest +of German courts. He had been the humble companion of the youthful +heir-apparent, and had there learned a little French, a little music, +and a good deal about kings and queens, princes and princesses. He +knew how to fence and to dance; and being big and tall, with a yellow +moustache and a great deal of assurance, he believed himself quite +irresistible. He had been one of the great promoters of the Mischianza, +which most of his companions openly ridiculed, and he had tried hard to +be made one of the "Knights of the Blended Rose," but that honour was +denied him.</p> + +<p>"Well done, smith," cried Major André as Caspar paused in his work and +gravely saluted the two officers. "You have lost no time, I see, and +you have done your work well."</p> + +<p>Caspar bowed gravely.</p> + +<p>"But I see you have a new assistant," continued Major André. "What has +become of our Yankee friend?"</p> + +<p>"I have not seen him," answered Caspar. "I thought he might be too much +hurt to work, and therefore, not to lose time, I brought one of my own +comrades along."</p> + +<p>"You are a clever fellow," said André, examining the work. "You ought +to be something more than a common smith."</p> + +<p>Caspar bowed again.</p> + +<p>"Why, what a dumb fish you are, man!" said the good-natured major. "For +a man that speaks English so well as you do, you are wonderfully chary +of your words."</p> + +<p>"We have a proverb which says that silence is a safe game," said +Caspar, not unmoved by the kindly manner of the handsome young +Englishman and smiling in his turn.</p> + +<p>Captain Burger looked at Reinhart as he spoke, and recognized him.</p> + +<p>"What! You are Reinhart of Falkenstein's troop?" said he, in a voice +which somehow conveyed an insult in its very tones. "I remember you +were always a sulky bear. Well, have you heard from home lately?"</p> + +<p>"No, my captain," answered Caspar, respectfully, his heart giving a +sudden leap as a gleam of hope came over him. "I have never heard a +word from my wife since I left her. May I ask if any letters have come?"</p> + +<p>"Not that I know of," answered Captain Burger. "I fancy the women have +something else to do. Your wife may have donned her widow's veil and +taken it off again before this time, as I hear many another has done."</p> + +<p>For a moment, the old hate blazed up in Caspar's heart and shone out at +his eyes. Then the bitter feeling of disappointment drowned everything +else. He bit his pale lips and turned away.</p> + +<p>"Burger, you are a brute," said André, in honest indignation.—"There! +Never mind, my man," he added, hastily and in a low tone as he caught +sight of Caspar's face. "Don't get yourself into trouble. I dare say +your good wife has written before now. The mails are very uncertain."</p> + +<p>"Have no fear for me, my officer," answered Caspar, quietly. "He who +kicks a fettered man exercises his valour in safety.—Will it please you +to tell us what to do next? I think there is no more fear of this."</p> + +<p>"Smith, you shall pay for this," said Burger, pale with rage in his +turn.</p> + +<p>"Hold your tongue, man, can't you?" said André, drawing him away. "Let +the smith alone. He is a fine fellow, and shall not be insulted—while +he is working for me, at least."</p> + +<p>It was not for Burger's interest to quarrel with his companion, so +he smoothed his plumes and affected to treat the matter as of no +consequence:</p> + +<p>"Well, well, let it go. He is a good smith, as you say, and might rise, +only for his sulky temper."</p> + +<p>"He must have wit, or he would not have learned English so readily," +remarked André. "I was telling him yesterday that he ought to be +employed in secret service, as nobody would know him from a German born +in the country. I don't think, however, that he relished the notion."</p> + +<p>A light not good to see shone in Burger's eyes for a moment.</p> + +<p>"Yes, as you say, he would make a good spy.—I wonder I never thought of +that," he added, more to himself than to his companion. "To be sure, he +might desert, but then I should be rid of him."</p> + +<p>"Why in the name of wonder should you wish to be rid of him?" asked +André, in surprise. "I should think such a workman would be invaluable. +I never saw a better piece of work than he has made of that screen."</p> + +<p>"Oh, he is such a sulky dog. You heard how he answered me—or you, +rather."</p> + +<p>"And what wonder, when you spoke as you did? Suppose any one had hinted +such a thing about your wife, supposing you had one?"</p> + +<p>"Major André, such language as this from one gentleman to another—"</p> + +<p>"Fiddle-de-dee!" said André, who stood in no awe of his big companion. +"Don't try to pick a quarrel, man. I have no time for such frolics at +present. Come, let us go and look at our arch of triumph. Do you know +what old Von Falkenstein said when I told him about it? 'More arch than +triumph,' he growled; and, faith, I think, between ourselves, the old +man was right. It must be confessed we have not made a very brilliant +campaign."</p> + +<p>Two or three days after the Mischianza had gone off in grand array, a +messenger came to Caspar Reinhart as he was reading beside his forge in +one of the intervals of his work.</p> + +<p>"You are to go to headquarters directly," said the messenger. "General +Clinton has sent for you."</p> + +<p>Greatly wondering, Reinhart made himself tidy, put his book in his +pocket, and presented himself in due time before General Clinton, +who, with several officers about him, was examining a rough map of +the shores of the Delaware below Philadelphia. Captain Burger was in +attendance, and his eye met Reinhart's with a look which the latter did +not understand.</p> + +<p>"Here is the man I mentioned to Your Excellency," said he.</p> + +<p>"Oh yes! Your name is—"</p> + +<p>"Caspar Reinhart, Your Excellency."</p> + +<p>"And I hear you speak English very well and are skilful at your trade?"</p> + +<p>"It is not for me to say, Your Excellency," answered Reinhart, with a +beating heart. He had heard a rumour that he was to be transferred to +the artillery—a change which would have been greatly to his liking.</p> + +<p>"Ah, well, you are just the man I want," said Sir Henry. "It is very +desirable that we should know the state of things in West Jersey, and +you are the very one to obtain information for us. We have reason to +think that some forces are gathering there, and that there is a design +for attacking the forts."</p> + +<p>The general proceeded to explain his plan. Reinhart was to be taken +down to the fort below the city. Here he was to take a boat, slip away +by night down the river, and land somewhere on the Jersey shore. From +thence he was to proceed inland in the character of a smith seeking +work, communicating cautiously with loyal inhabitants and gathering all +the information possible.</p> + +<p>Again Caspar saw the glance of gratified malice in Burger's eyes, and +he understood at once that he was caught in a trap from which there was +no escape. His habit of silence served him in good stead; and though +every vein and nerve was tingling, he simply saluted and said nothing.</p> + +<p>"You will come here at four o'clock to receive your final instructions +and money," continued Sir Henry. "I shall furnish you with a pass to +help you in your return, although you are not to use it except in case +of utmost need. You must make your wit save your head, as the saying +goes."</p> + +<p>"Or his neck, rather," said Burger, with a sneer.</p> + +<p>"I shall try to do so, Your Excellency," said Caspar, with the same +gravity, thinking, at the same time, that the pass would most likely be +unnecessary.</p> + +<p>"That is all. Come here precisely at four o'clock. Of course you +understand that this matter must be mentioned to no one. You are merely +going down to the fort to look at some iron-work which needs repairing. +I need not tell you that the service is a dangerous one; but if you +succeed, the reward shall be in proportion to the danger."</p> + +<p>Caspar, finding himself dismissed, walked slowly back to his quarters, +resolving many things in his mind. He saw clearly that he was indebted +to his old enemy Captain Burger for being sent on such a troublesome +and dangerous service—a service far more perilous than any ordinary +engagement, since, if discovered and taken, he was certain to be hung. +The business was one peculiarly disagreeable to him. His sympathies +were all on the side of the Americans, who were fighting for their +liberty against almost hopeless odds. As to his own prince, he +naturally did not feel that he owed any duty to the prince who had sold +him like a sheep. Hundreds of the Hessians had deserted, but Caspar +could not make up his mind to desert. If for no other reason, he would +not give his enemy such a triumph.</p> + +<p>"I can only go where I am sent," said he, at last. "Perhaps, after all, +this may be the opening of the door for which I have been praying."</p> + +<p>The afternoon was spent in making his preparations. He secured the +small sum of money which he had earned and saved, wrapped up his Bible +and put it in an inner pocket, and wrote a long letter to his wife, +which he carried to the old sergeant, begging him to send it as soon as +possible.</p> + +<p>"What! You are going down the river, I hear?" said the old man. "I +suppose you will be back in a few days. I wish the stupid English +would mend their own tools and let us alone. There is not a smith in +the whole army who can manage a horse as you can. But you will be back +soon, eh?"</p> + +<p>"There is no telling," said Caspar. "Farewell, Father Martin, and many +thanks for all your kindness. If you ever go back, go and see my wife +at Nonnenwald."</p> + +<p>"Why, one would think you were going to your death," said old Martin, +struck by something in Caspar's manner. "You don't mean to desert, eh?"</p> + +<p>"Not I," answered Caspar; "but there are things one must not tell, you +know."</p> + +<p>"I believe Burger has been playing you some dog's trick or other," said +Martin. "If he has, I will put a nail in his shoe for it. I know all +about him and his family; he is no more a gentleman than I am. Yes, +yes! I can tell things."</p> + +<p>"Do nothing for my sake, Father Martin," said Caspar, earnestly. +"The man has always been my enemy, but I have no desire for revenge. +Farewell, and present my duty to our colonel."</p> + +<p>Punctually at four o'clock Caspar repaired to the general's quarters, +where he received his pass, a well-filled purse, and the hearty good +wishes of the general.</p> + +<p>"You have settled in your mind precisely what you will do?"</p> + +<p>"As far as I can beforehand, Your Excellency;" and Caspar proceeded to +explain his design.</p> + +<p>"You are a very clear-headed man," said the general. "You shall not be +forgotten, I promise you, when you return."</p> + +<p>"It will be time to think of that when I see whether I am to return at +all, Your Excellency."</p> + +<p>"Oh, you must not be downhearted," said Sir Henry, kindly. "The service +is a dangerous one, but many a man has lived through it. Good luck go +with you!"</p> + +<p>At twelve o'clock that night, Caspar Reinhart pushed off his little +boat and made for the Jersey shore, under cover of which he floated +downward, only using his oars to keep himself from running aground. +It was a bright night. The wind blew down the river and the tide was +running out very fast. The air was soft and warm, and all sorts of +sweet odours mingled with the smell of salt water and river-mud. The +frogs, turtles, and insects were performing an uproarious concert along +shore, to which to him unknown birds occasionally added a strain.</p> + +<p>Caspar listened to the various voices, wondering what creatures made +them, and starting now and then as some big bullfrog near at hand +offered a gruff remark, till he grew horribly sleepy, and at last +dropped into a doze. He did not seem to himself to have slept a moment, +when he was startled by a sudden shock, and waked to find his boat +aground. The early streaks of dawn were showing in the east, and Caspar +concluded that he could not do better than to rest on his oars till it +grew light enough to see about him.</p> + +<p>Presently he discovered that his boat had run itself aground on a sandy +spit of land projecting into the Delaware. On the other side seemed to +be the mouth of a pretty good-sized inlet or river; it was not easy +to say which. The banks were low and overgrown with oak and pine, +mostly quite small, and what is called scrub, intermixed with holly +and laurel, the latter in the full beauty of its magnificent bloom. +Beautiful vines ran over the trees, and strange flowering-plants grew +in the edges of the water. Dainty beach-birds danced up and down the +margin of sand left by the retreating tide, a stately heron was fishing +on the other side, and on a tree close at hand a mocking-bird was +pouring out a wonderful strain of melody. *</p> + +<p class="footnote"> +<br> +* The mocking-bird is a rare but not unknown visitor in South Jersey. +I heard a very fine one in the old churchyard in Bridgeton.<br> +<br> +</p> + +<p>"It is the garden of Eden," thought Caspar, looking about him with +delight, for he had a keen sense of beauty. "Well, I don't see that I +can do better than to eat my breakfast, rest a while, and when the tide +makes float up the creek here and seek my fortune in the interior."</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<h2><a id="Chapter_6">CHAPTER VI.</a></h2> + +<p class="t3"> +<em>THE BEAR.</em><br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>ABOUT ten o'clock the water was high enough to float the boat, and +Caspar, once more betaking himself to his oars, found himself being +carried by the tide up one of the most crooked rivers he had ever +seen. The boat's head did not point the same way for half an hour at +one time. The banks were very lonely, low but not marshy, and covered +with a low growth of pines and glossy-leaved oaks mixed with holly and +laurel, while now and then from some low ground came the warm spicy +breath of the magnolia. Caspar saw no signs of human habitation.</p> + +<p>"I wonder where all the people are?" he thought. "The general says the +country is well settled, so I suppose I shall come to them some time +or other. I shall have to tie up by and by, I suppose, when the tide +turns. I wonder what time it is?"</p> + +<p>And then he remembered Jonathan Elmer's watch, and took it out. It was +a plain double-cased one, with the owner's name engraved on the inside, +where was a small water-colour drawing of a pretty dark-haired little +girl. Caspar looked at the picture till the tears came to his eyes.</p> + +<p>"It is like our little Gertrude, who went to heaven so long ago," said +he. "Oh, if I only knew what they were all about at this moment!"</p> + +<p>Just then a sound fell on his ear strange to hear in the midst of such +a wilderness—a child's voice calling for help in tones of distress and +alarm. Caspar turned his boat's head toward the bank, but a thought +made him pause for a moment. He had heard of an animal in the woods of +America which imitated the sound of children's voices in order to draw +compassionate travellers into its clutches. * Another cry—articulate +this time—made him hesitate no longer:</p> + +<p>"Father, father! Come to Kitty, quick!"</p> + +<p class="footnote"> +<br> +* This story used to be told of the panther, and believed when I was +young; and I believe it is still credited by old woodsmen.<br> +<br> +</p> + +<p>In an instant, Caspar had reached the shore, and sprang up the bank. He +pushed on through the thick bushes, and came upon a curious scene. A +pretty little girl about eight years old stood with her back against +a tree, brandishing with all her strength a dry stick which she had +snatched up, while about four feet away was a black bear sitting on +his haunches and regarding the child with great attention. The animal +seemed rather curious and interested than angry.</p> + +<p>Kitty had no notion of falling an unresisting prey, and brandished her +pine stick womanfully, while she called for help at the top of her +voice. The moment her eyes fell on Caspar, she exclaimed,—</p> + +<p>"Oh, Mr. Man, please to drive away that thing."</p> + +<p>Caspar shouted and drew a pistol from his belt, but the bear had no +mind to wait for any such arguments. He dropped on his fore legs with +an angry snarl and shuffled away. The moment he was out of sight, Kitty +dropped her weapon, and, tumbling all in a heap at the bottom of the +tree, began to cry bitterly.</p> + +<p>Caspar sat down on a stone, and taking her in his lap endeavoured to +soothe her, but it was no easy task. She was a very pretty child, and +had been neatly dressed, but her clothes were torn and stained and her +little shoes nearly worn from her feet.</p> + +<p>"Hush, hush, little dear!" said Caspar, pressing the little dark +head against his breast and holding the hands which clung to him +desperately. "The bear is gone; he shall not hurt you nor scare you any +more."</p> + +<p>"It is naughty to cry, I know," sobbed Kitty, finding her voice at +last; "but the thing was so ugly and black; and when I told him to go +away, he—he—just grinned! He wouldn't mind me a bit!" She sobbed afresh +at the remembrance of the bear's disrespectful conduct.</p> + +<p>"Naughty bear, not to mind the little girl!" said Caspar. "But where +dost thou live, little dear?"</p> + +<p>"My father lives in Bridgeton, but I am staying at Aunt Deborah's," +said Kitty; "and I got lost and have been out in the woods all night, +and I am so hungry you don't know."</p> + +<p>Caspar put his hand in his pocket and drew out a couple of hard +biscuits, which Kitty eagerly seized upon.</p> + +<p>"But don't you want some yourself?" she asked after she had eaten one.</p> + +<p>"Oh no; I have had my breakfast. But now try and tell me where thy aunt +lives. Is it on the river here?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; it is on the river, right across from Greenwich," explained Kitty +with her mouth full of biscuit. "Aunt Deborah preaches in the meeting +at Greenwich, and it was that that made me get lost."</p> + +<p>"How so?" asked Caspar, much wondering what sort of an aunt it was that +preached.</p> + +<p>"Why, she went to meeting and she wouldn't take me, and I was angry, +and so I ran away and got lost. It was very naughty of me," concluded +Kitty, penitently, "because Aunt Deborah is real good generally; only I +did want so very much to go and see Elizabeth Fithian's kittens."</p> + +<p>"But thou shouldst mind what thou art told, my child," said Caspar.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I know I should, and most generally I do," said Kitty; "but I +wanted some magnolias and lady-slippers.—But who are you?" she asked, +struck with a new fear. "You are not a Hessian, are you?"</p> + +<p>"What dost thou know about Hessians?" asked Caspar.</p> + +<p>"They are wicked men who fight for King George, and kill people, and +drive away their cattle," said Kitty. "Recompense Joake said the +Hessians would catch me if I went out in the pasture, and cut my head +off. You are not a Hessian, are you?"</p> + +<p>"I am a Hessian, certainly, but I will not hurt thee," said Caspar. +"The Hessians are not all bad. I will carry thee home if only we can +find the way. I think we had better go down to the river and take to +the boat. If thy home is up the river, we shall reach it sooner in that +way."</p> + +<p>"There, now! I shall tell Recompense Joake that he doesn't know +everything," said Kitty, in a tone of satisfaction, as they turned +toward the bank. "But Hessians do hurt people sometimes?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, when they are soldiers. That is the trade of a soldier, you know."</p> + +<p>"And are you not a soldier?'</p> + +<p>"I am a smith," said Caspar, evading the question. "I had a dear little +girl just about thy age, who died."</p> + +<p>"Did you?" asked Kitty, much interested. "What was her name?"</p> + +<p>"Her name was Gertrude Reinhart, and mine is Caspar Reinhart."</p> + +<p>"And my name is Catharine Elmer, but everybody calls me Kitty, even +Recompense Joule," said Kitty, in an injured tone.—"There, now! I +should like to know how we are to get into your boat?"</p> + +<p>Caspar looked in dismay. In his hurry to save the child, he had not +secured his boat. It had floated off into the middle of the stream, +and, the tide having turned, it was making good progress toward +Delaware Bay. Caspar could have beaten himself for his stupidity, but +there was no help for it now.</p> + +<p>"Well, little one, we must trust to our own legs," said he, trying +to make the best of matters. "If we keep within sight of the river, +we cannot be far wrong. If only the boat had not carried away my +great-coat and provisions, it would not matter so much."</p> + +<p>Kitty declared herself able to walk "miles upon miles," now that she +had had something to eat, and set off sturdily enough; but it presently +appeared that she had overrated her powers, since she was not only very +tired, but very lame.</p> + +<p>"Thou canst not walk, my little one," said Caspar, presently.</p> + +<p>"I am afraid I can't," answered Kitty, sorrowfully. "My feet are so +sore, and I think I have got a thorn or something in one of them."</p> + +<p>Caspar examined the tender little feet, which were indeed sorely +blistered, drew out a thorn, and bound them up with leaves and strips +torn from Kitty's apron, which was pretty well reduced to rags already. +Kitty bore the operation bravely, though she winced now and then.</p> + +<p>"Now you will have to carry me," said she, "and I don't see how you +will manage. But it is a good thing that I am small of my age, isn't +it? I shall tell Recompense Joake so when I get home. He is always +laughing at me and calling me a chipmunk and a sparrow, and what not."</p> + +<p>Kitty chattered on till she chattered herself off to sleep. She was not +very heavy, but still she was something of a load, and Caspar found his +arms aching. The walking was difficult and slow, especially as he dared +not go out of sight of the river for fear of losing his way.</p> + +<p>He was obliged to sit down and rest several times, and it was drawing +on toward sunset when he at last came out on an open space where there +were signs of a farm-clearing and a deserted and half-ruined log cabin. +Near by was a bit of low ground overgrown with bushes, out of which ran +a clear shallow stream, the first running water they had come across +that day. There had been a small barn, but it was broken down and +decayed. The cabin was a double one, and the roof and fireplace at one +end were tolerably entire, while the other held a heap of old straw and +a quantity of pine knots and roots which had evidently been gathered +for fuel at some time or other.</p> + +<p>Caspar laid Kitty gently down on the straw and covered her with his +jacket. Then he climbed a tall tree—the only one of any size near—and +looked all about him. Far away on the other side of the river he could +see a smoke, but on this side all was as lonely as if no man had ever +set foot on the soil.</p> + +<p>"What a long way the child must have wandered!" he thought. "But then +lost children do travel to an immense distance sometimes."</p> + +<p>He descended, and sat down on a log at the door to consider the +situation. He was very tired himself; and horribly sleepy, having been +up all the night before. There was no appearance of their being near +any house. Some round headed clouds were rising in the west, betokening +a thunder-shower by and by. If they went on, darkness and the storm +would probably overtake them in the woods, and the child might perish +before morning. Here they at least had shelter and the means of making +a fire.</p> + +<p>Caspar searched his pockets again, and discovered another bit of +biscuit. He also examined and reprimed his pistols. As he did so, a +mellow whistle made him look up to see a pair of quails running along +under the edge of a tumble-down bit of fence. Caspar was a capital +marksman, and the birds were within easy shot. He took a careful aim, +and to his great delight succeeded in killing one of them.</p> + +<p>"Good!" said he. "Things might be worse, a great deal."</p> + +<p>He picked up his prize, and turned to where Kitty, awakened by the +shot, was sitting up and rubbing her eyes.</p> + +<p>"What was that?" she asked, apparently a little bewildered.</p> + +<p>"I have killed a bird for our supper," said Caspar, "and now I am going +to make a fire and cook it."</p> + +<p>"But I always have bread and milk for supper," said Kitty, "and I want +to go home and get some. I don't want to stay out another night."</p> + +<p>"Nor I," answered Caspar, "but we cannot choose very well.—There! Don't +cry," he added, as Kitty put up a grieved lip. "Listen, and I will tell +you all about it."</p> + +<p>Kitty listened while Caspar, in the plainest English he could muster, +explained the plan he had decided upon and his reasons for it. The +comment she made was an unexpected one:</p> + +<p>"I like you, Mr. Hessian, because you talk sense and tell the reasons +of things. When I ask Recompense Joake the reason, he says, 'Oh, don't +thee bother! Little girls can't understand.' He did the other day when +I asked him what was the reason the shad come in the spring, and not in +the fall; and I don't believe he knew himself. Do you?"</p> + +<p>"I dare say not," said Caspar much amused, but wondering who or what +Recompense Joake could be. "Then you will try to be content?"</p> + +<p>"I will try to be good," said Kitty, piteously, "but I do want to go +home so much you don't know. And we always have warm gingerbread Friday +night; and oh, just suppose my father should come home and find me +gone!"</p> + +<p>The thought was too much for Kitty's philosophy. She burst into tears +and cried bitterly.</p> + +<p>Caspar hushed and comforted her as well as he could, speaking sometimes +English and sometimes German in his perplexity. At last, he hit on an +expedient.</p> + +<p>"I wish you could stop crying," said he, "because I want you to help me +about supper."</p> + +<p>The thought of being useful brought comfort to Kitty's soul. She looked +up from Caspar's bosom, where she had hidden her head, and wiped her +eyes with what remained of her frock.</p> + +<p>"You are very good to like me when I cry so much," said she. "I can't +bear children that cry, myself. There, now! I am good. What shall I do?"</p> + +<p>"You may pick the bird's feathers off if you like, while I make the +fire."</p> + +<p>A very satisfactory fire, kindled by Caspar's tinder-box, was soon +roaring up the long-unused chimney. Caspar brought in all the pine +knots and what wood he could find without going too far away, arranged +a bed of straw covered with pine boughs, and finding the shutter which +had once closed the window, he barricaded that and the broken door as +well as he could. Then he broiled on the coals the bird, which Kitty +had picked very neatly. It was not much of a supper for two, but it was +far better than nothing, and Kitty grew quite cheerful over it. Supper +over, he proposed that she should go to bed.</p> + +<p>"I must say my prayers first," said Kitty. "Will you hear me?"</p> + +<p>"Truly I will, little dear."</p> + +<p>And Kitty knelt down and said her prayers, ending with, "God bless my +father and that good man who saved his life!"</p> + +<p>"Who saved your father's life, Kitty?" asked Caspar as he arranged her +straw bed.</p> + +<p>"I don't know his name, but he was a good man, and my father gave him +his watch with my picture in it. I don't think he should have given +away my picture, though, do you?"</p> + +<p>"Perhaps he had no time to take it out," said Caspar, greatly +wondering. So this was Jonathan Elmer's child?</p> + +<p>"Oh, well, I dare say he did not mean any harm. Aunt Deborah says men +are naturally inconsiderate." And with this wise remark, Kitty lay +down, and went to sleep as suddenly as a bird tucks its head under its +wing.</p> + +<p>Caspar had thought himself very sleepy, but the disposition to sleep +had vanished with the opportunity of gratifying it, and he had never +been more wide awake in his life. The thunder-storm had come up very +quickly, and though the sun had hardly set, it was already very dark. +The thunder rolled nearer and nearer, and the wind roared furiously +among the trees, so that Caspar congratulated himself more than ever on +the shelter of the old cabin. He heaped up the fire and kept his ears +open, for he remembered the bear, and feared there might be other wild +animals in the neighbourhood. He took out his Bible and tried to read, +but the light was too uncertain, so he put up the book and fell to +musing on his present condition.</p> + +<p>"Certainly, the last thing I thought of was finding myself in such a +place as this. It seems as if I had been sent on purpose to save the +child. Little Gustaf must be about her age. I am thankful I came in +time to save her from a horrible death. She must be the child of my +friend the smith, who was no more a smith than I am a general. I wish +I could sleep; I shall be good for nothing to-morrow. I am beholden to +him for the use of his watch."</p> + +<p>He took out his watch and wound it up, looking at the picture as he did +so. It certainly was very much like Kitty.</p> + +<p>The storm seemed to be over. He made up the fire anew with knots +and dry sticks, and lay down across the door in Indian fashion, so +that nothing could enter. He was just dropping off to sleep when he +started at some noise, and came broad awake again. He listened. It was +repeated—a loud shout, and then, "Kitty! Kitty Elmer!"</p> + +<p>"They have come to look for the child," was his instant thought. He +sprang to the door and shouted loudly.</p> + +<p>The answer came back from no great distance: "Where are you?"</p> + +<p>"This way—in the—" Caspar could not remember the word for clearing, so +he shouted again.</p> + +<p>He heard the noise of approaching steps, and in a minute two or three +men burst through the bushes and rushed up to the cabin.</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<h2><a id="Chapter_7">CHAPTER VII.</a></h2> + +<p class="t3"> +<em>NEW FRIENDS AND NEW FOES.</em><br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>"HERE is she? Where is the child?" asked two or three together.</p> + +<p>"In there, asleep," answered Caspar, pointing over his shoulder to +where Kitty lay, unawakened by the noise.</p> + +<p>"Thank the Lord!" said one, a hard-featured, preternaturally +solemn-looking man. "I never hoped to see her alive again. Are you sure +she is living, and not dead?"</p> + +<p>"She is surely living unless she has died within half an hour," said +Caspar.</p> + +<p>"And where did thee find her, friend?" asked the solemn man, after he +had looked at Kitty and satisfied himself that she was indeed alive.</p> + +<p>"Some miles below here, on the bank of the river. She told me she had +been out all night."</p> + +<p>"And why didn't you bring her right home, instead of camping down +here?" asked one of the men who had spoken first, in a loud, harsh +voice.</p> + +<p>"Because I was tired with carrying her and did not know my way; and +besides, seeing that a storm was coming up, I judged it better not to +leave a shelter I was sure of."</p> + +<p>"Yes, that is a likely story!" said the loud-voiced man. "I believe you +meant to carry her off and sell her."</p> + +<p>"Joses Dandy, if it wasn't against Scripture, I would certainly call +thee a fool," said the solemn man. "Why should the man have answered +our shouts if he had wished to steal the child? And why should he be +going up the river instead of down? Can thee answer me that?"</p> + +<p>Apparently, Joses Dandy could not, for he began on another tack.</p> + +<p>"And who are you, any way?" he asked, turning again to Caspar.</p> + +<p>"Never mind that now," said the other man. "We must fire our pieces to +let our friends know the child is found."</p> + +<p>The pieces were fired, and in a few minutes, three or four more men +made their way to the scene of action.</p> + +<p>"What is it? Where is the child?" asked one and another. "Is she found? +Is she alive?"</p> + +<p>"Alive and well, and sound asleep in there," answered the solemn man.</p> + +<p>"And this man here says he found her, and was bringing her home, but +I don't believe a word of it," said Joses Dandy, who seemed to have +conceived an enmity at first sight against Caspar. "I believe the man +is a British spy and meant to steal the child."</p> + +<p>"A likely thing for a spy to do!" observed the solemn man.</p> + +<p>"Any way, the man is a Hessian by his tongue, and he looks like a +soldier," observed another of the party.</p> + +<p>"Just so, and I know him. He is a regimental smith," said Joses. "I saw +him in Philadelphia last month. He is just a spy come to spy out the +nakedness of the land, and it is all fudge about his finding the child."</p> + +<p>"And what was thee doing in Philadelphia, I should like to know?" asked +the solemn man.</p> + +<p>Joses did not find it convenient to hear the question:</p> + +<p>"I say hang him up and be done with him!"</p> + +<p>"I say so too," said another, who seemed to be somewhat drunk. "The +Hessians burnt my grandfather's house and shot down the poor old man in +cold blood. Spy or not, I say hang him up without judge or jury! I wish +we could hang all the rest with him."</p> + +<p>"That's what I say," added Joses. "Hang him up at once!"</p> + +<p>"I wouldn't say quite so much about hanging if I was thee, Joses +Dandy," said a young man who had hardly spoken before. "If we were to +hang up every one whose loyalty was suspected, thy women-folks might +have to wait breakfast for thee longer than was convenient. What I want +to know is how thee came to see him in the city?"</p> + +<p>"Anyhow, we can search him and see what he has about him."</p> + +<p>The proposition was acceded to. Caspar now gave himself up for lost, +but he remained perfectly passive, while the search proceeded pretty +roughly.</p> + +<p>"Here's a pass from Clinton himself," said the loud-voiced man. "What +do you say now, Recompense Joake?"</p> + +<p>"Just what I did before," answered the solemn man, his face, however, +lengthening perceptibly.</p> + +<p>"And here's a list of names," said another, "and in the same +handwriting. What does this mean?"</p> + +<p>"What signifies what it means?" said Joses, hastily. "Haven't we enough +to convict him? Hang him up, I say, and have done with him."</p> + +<p>"Take me out of sight and hearing of the child, any way," said Caspar.</p> + +<p>"Oh, thee will keep; there's no such hurry," said the young man, who +was called Thomas Whitecar. "Here we are, six men against one; and +besides, thee has a right to be heard in thy own defence. Let us see +this list.—Hold up the lanthorn, Recompense.—Well, here's thy name +first of all, Joses Dandy. I should like to know the meaning of that?"</p> + +<p>At this moment the search was interrupted. Kitty, sleeping the sound +sleep of tired childhood, had heard none of the noise for a while, but +at last the sound of the loud talking made its way to her brain. She +woke, sat up, and looked around her, quite bewildered at first, but +presently remembering all about it.</p> + +<p>"Where are you, Mr. Hessian?" she called.</p> + +<p>Receiving no answer, she made her way to the door, and beheld her +friend in the hands of men who were evidently treating him roughly +enough. Kitty did not know what fear was. With one bound, she was in +the midst of the group and had her arms clasped tight round Caspar's +body.</p> + +<p>"Touch him if you dare!" said she, her great gray eyes flashing fire. +"What are you doing to him? There! He drove away the bear and tied up +my feet and all, and that's the way you use him—to pull off his coat +and his shoes, and make him catch cold in the wet!—Recompense Joake, +see if I don't tell father of you when he comes!"</p> + +<p>The men looked at each other.</p> + +<p>"What was it about the bear, Kitty?" asked Thomas Whitecar.</p> + +<p>Kitty told her story, which we have already heard, and which lost +nothing by her way of telling it.</p> + +<p>"And he tied up my feet real good; and when I couldn't walk, he +carried me in his arms miles upon miles, and then he cooked a bird for +my supper, and gave me every bit of the biscuit—yes, every bit. He +wouldn't take one crumb, and he made me a nice bed; and that's the way +you serve him!" cried Kitty, in a tempest of wrath.—"Recompense Joake, +I'll never speak to you again as long as I live—so there! Just see if I +tell you any more stories, that's all."</p> + +<p>"Well, now, Kitty, if it wasn't wrong, I could be put out with thee," +said Recompense, seriously aggrieved, as it seemed, by Kitty's threat. +"Haven't I been out all night and all day looking for thee, say?"</p> + +<p>"Why didn't you look in the right place, then?" asked Kitty, no ways +appeased.—"Oh, Cousin Thomas, you won't let them hurt him, will you?"</p> + +<p>"Not if I can help it, Kitty," answered Thomas.</p> + +<p>"But you shall help it or I'll—I'll kill somebody myself. I'll run +right away and get lost again, and tell General Washington of you—yes, +and Aunt Deborah too!" cried Kitty, heaping threat upon threat, and +keeping fast hold of Caspar.</p> + +<p>"I say hang him up! Who minds what a child says?" said Joses Dandy. "I +dare say he put the story in her mouth. I know the man, I tell you. I +saw him myself shoeing a big white horse for one of the officers of the +Waldeckers, as they call them."</p> + +<p>"And pray where was thee when thee saw him?" asked Recompense Joake.</p> + +<p>"He was selling fresh eggs at a shilling apiece to some of the English +officers," said Caspar, quietly.</p> + +<p>All the time he had been haunted with the idea that he had seen the +man before, and the mention of the big white horse brought back to his +mind an egg-and-butter peddler who had asked and obtained an exorbitant +price for his wares.</p> + +<p>"Oh, ho!" exclaimed Thomas Whitecar. "What's that?"</p> + +<p>Caspar repeated the story, which Joses noisily denied, declaring the +man was only trying to save his own neck, and deserved hanging more +than ever.</p> + +<p>"Nonsense!" said Thomas Whitecar. "We can't hang a man who has just +saved the child's life, and that without any authority or examination. +I for one want to know how thy name came into this list of Tories in +West Jersey, for that is what it is."</p> + +<p>"Just so," said Recompense Joake. "And about this peddling business? If +it wasn't against the testimony of Friends to bet, I'd bet something +that thee sold to the British in Philadelphia the provisions the women +got together to send to the sick in our army. I, for one, should like +to hear what this Hessian has to say about that. I think things look +rather black for thee, Joses."</p> + +<p>"Anyhow, friends, I vote we take the man home with us and keep him till +we can consult Captain Elmer. As Recompense says, I want to hear about +this peddling business," said Thomas: "I've had my suspicions before."</p> + +<p>"Jonathan Elmer!" repeated Caspar.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Jonathan Elmer," said Recompense. "Thee seems to know the name."</p> + +<p>"I do, and he knows me," replied Caspar, a ray of hope arising at +the name of his former assistant. "Bring me face to face with him, I +beseech you; I ask nothing better. Is he of these parts?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; he lives in Bridgeton. This is his child thee has saved.—Come, +friends, let us turn toward home.—Kitty, shall I carry thee?"</p> + +<p>"No, indeed, thank you!" replied Kitty, disdainfully. "I don't want any +one to carry me only Mr. Hessian.—But maybe you are too tired?" she +added, looking up in her friend's face. "You carried me so long this +morning. Don't your arms ache?"</p> + +<p>"Not a bit!" answered Caspar, taking her up and kissing her. "I am in +your hands, comrades," he added, with a smile. "You see I am in no case +to run away."</p> + +<p>"And that is true. I believe you are an honest fellow, though +appearances are against you," said the young man who had been most +violent against Caspar. "But you needn't wonder that we hate the +Hessians, we Jersey folks.—But I say, friends, what's come of Dandy?"</p> + +<p>"Sure enough!" said another. "I believe he has slipped away. I've a +notion we sha'n't see him again very soon. The rascal! To get so much +credit for carrying provisions to our own camp, while all the time he +was making money by supplying the British! No wonder he was for hanging +this man here in a hurry."</p> + +<p>"How far are we from the child's home?" asked Caspar.</p> + +<p>"Only about two miles."</p> + +<p>It is needless to say with what joy Kitty's arrival was greeted. Her +first question was whether her father had come home.</p> + +<p>"Yes, he came last night, and is out looking for thee," said her aunt. +"Oh, Kitty, Kitty! How much trouble thee has made just because thee +wouldn't mind!"</p> + +<p>"I know I have been very naughty," said Kitty, penitently, "and I +won't ever do so again—not even if you won't take me to meeting, Aunt +Deborah. Oh dear! I wish father would come. I want to tell him how Mr. +Hessian drove away the bear."</p> + +<p>"Thou shouldst call me Caspar, my child," said Caspar.</p> + +<p>"Well, Caspar, then!—And won't you give him something real nice to eat, +Aunt Deborah, because he gave me almost all the supper there was?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes! We will see to that. So he found thee in the woods?"</p> + +<p>Kitty told her tale over again to admiring listeners, and Caspar found +himself promoted from the position of a suspected prisoner to that of +a hero. A comfortable room was assigned to him for a prison, if so +it could be called, and a savoury hot supper sent up to him. It was +the most homelike meal he had seen in many a day, but somehow, though +parched with thirst, he felt no disposition to eat. He had just emptied +the pitcher of home-brewed beer when Recompense Joake presented his +solemn face at the door:</p> + +<p>"Has thee got everything comfortable?"</p> + +<p>"Everything, thank you."</p> + +<p>"I have brought thee a pipe and some tobacco," said his friend, +advancing into the room and closing the door. "I don't smoke myself, +but I know how much people who do are attached to the weed."</p> + +<p>"I don't smoke, either, for a wonder," answered Caspar, "but I thank +you all the same."</p> + +<p>Recompense still lingered, arranging the fire, and Caspar, who longed +to be alone, wondered when he was going.</p> + +<p>At last, Recompense drew close to him and said, in a low tone,—</p> + +<p>"Friend, I'm not just clear that I am in the path of duty, but I reckon +I'll risk it, seeing you saved the child."</p> + +<p>"Risk what?" asked Caspar.</p> + +<p>"Well, risk going a little grain out of the way for thee. If thee would +rather get away before the captain comes home, there's that window +opens out on the roof of the shed. It's only five feet from the ground, +and there's a boat down by the landing with the oars in it. Does thee +understand?"</p> + +<p>"I understand," said Caspar, seeing what was the drift of the +good-natured Quaker. "You mean to let me get away."</p> + +<p>"Just so. I won't take it upon me to advise thee. Thee can do as +thee likes, of course. But if thee shouldn't think best to run any +risks—Thee sees thy people have done a good many hard things in the +Jerseys, and folks is naturally put out. Of course we expect the +British to fight us, but when it comes to folks we never had any +quarrel with, and never did anything to, coming over and abusing our +women-folks and stealing our goods—well, if it wasn't against the +testimony of Friends, I don't say but I should feel like fighting +myself."</p> + +<p>"But you see, we can't help it," said Caspar. "Nobody asked us if we +would come. Our king sold us to the English king, and we couldn't help +ourselves. I was carried away from my family, and never allowed even to +bid them good-bye."</p> + +<p>"Then, if I was thee, and didn't see it to be against my conscience, +I'd run away first chance I got. Well, good-night! I thought I'd tell +thee, and thee could do as thee liked. Good-night! I hope thee 'll +sleep."</p> + +<p>It was kind to hope so, but there was little chance of the hope being +realized. Caspar's mind was in a whirl of excitement trying to decide +upon his course. He might escape, it was true; but reviewing all the +circumstances, he thought the chances were against him. It must be +nearly morning already. He would soon be missed and pursued, and were +he retaken, he could hardly hope for mercy. On the other side of the +river, he might possibly find shelter with some Tory family, had he +only known where to look for them, but he had lost his list, and could +not remember a single name save that of Joses Dandy, who seemed more +likely to want protection than to afford it. He rose and went to the +window, which opened easily enough. It was already growing light.</p> + +<p class="letter"> +<br> + "Heaven help me, for I am in a sore strait!" was his prayer.<br> +<br> +</p> + +<p>He leaned for a few minutes against the window-frame. Then he spoke +aloud in German:</p> + +<p>"No, I will not try to get away. This man Elmer owes me two lives—his +own and his child's. It will go hard but he will find some way to save +me if I tell him the truth. I have prayed that a way might be opened +for me to leave the army, and it may be this is the answer to my +prayer."</p> + +<p>Caspar knelt down and prayed earnestly for a few minutes. Then he +extinguished his light and threw himself on Deborah Whitecar's clean +and soft feather bed. His head ached and he felt strangely tired and +excited, but after a time he fell into a troubled sleep.</p> + +<p>It was broad day when he awoke, and for some minutes he could not +remember what had happened or where he was. He felt weak and unnerved, +and almost as if he were out of the body. What in the world had +happened to his hands to make them so thin and white? And why did he +find such a difficulty in turning himself over? He looked about him. +He felt sure this was not the room in which he had gone to sleep. It +was a larger and better-furnished apartment, and his bed had full white +curtains.</p> + +<p>A middle-aged woman in a muslin cap and a wonderfully neat plain dress +sat knitting at the side of his bed, and rose as his eye met hers.</p> + +<p>"Thee is better?" said she, taking his hand into her soft fingers and +feeling his pulse. "The doctor said he thought thee would be all right +on waking.—Kitty, thee may tell Discretion to bring the broth."</p> + +<p>"Better! Have I been ill?" asked Caspar, bewildered.</p> + +<p>"Hush! Thee mustn't talk. Yes, thee has been sick abed fur three weeks, +and out of thy head all the time. Thee 'll hear all about it when thee +is better. Now thee must take thy broth, and perhaps thee may sleep +again."</p> + +<p>Caspar took the delicate broth which his nurse held to his lips, and +then, sinking back on his pillows, he began to try to think a little. +He seemed to remember now that some time had passed, that he had seen +people about him whom he did not know, and that he had heard some one +say,—</p> + +<p>"I think he will live through it."</p> + +<p>But thinking was hard and sleepy work, and he soon dropped off again. +When he woke, the setting sun was sending rays through the closed +blinds, and his nurse was standing by the bed with a gentleman who was +engaged in feeling his pulse.</p> + +<p>"Well, my man, you have come out on the right side this time," said the +doctor, cheerfully. "You must have a pretty good constitution. I don't +see anything now to hinder you getting well directly."</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<h2><a id="Chapter_8">CHAPTER VIII.</a></h2> + +<p class="t3"> +<em>NEWS AND PLANS.</em><br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>FOR several days Caspar lay in Deborah Whitecar's best bed, very weak +and languid and comfortable, and decidedly indisposed to any greater +mental or physical exertion than that of taking his broth and answering +the doctor's questions, or speculating idly on the bit of landscape and +river which he could see out of his window.</p> + +<p>Then he began to recover rapidly, to feel a profound interest in the +dinner-hour, to sit up while his bed was made, and at last, to Kitty's +great delight, to be dressed and walk to the window. His mind was now +quite clear as to all that had happened up to the time when Recompense +Joake visited him in his room and showed him how he might escape. After +that, everything was in a fog. He dimly remembered hearing voices about +him, especially Kitty's, and being well cared for, but that was all. +His nurse, though kindness itself, was very peremptory and would not +allow him to talk, and even Kitty would only answer all his inquiries +by laying her small finger on her lip, and, if he persisted, by +vanishing from the room.</p> + +<p>One day, he was sitting by his window looking out at the winding river +and the pretty village, of which he could see a bit on the other side. +He was feeling more than commonly downhearted and lonely. He had never +been seriously ill in all his life before; he did not know what to +make of the weakness which oppressed him; and, like most men under +similar circumstances, he thought he should never be any better. He +had heard no public news, and nobody had given him a hint as to what +was to be done with him. In this mournful case he was sitting, leaning +both elbows on the window-sill with his head on his hands, when he was +aroused by a cheerful voice behind him:</p> + +<p>"Well, this is an improvement on the last time I saw you, but you would +hardly handle a sledge as well as at our first meeting."</p> + +<p>Caspar looked round to see a gentleman whose face he seemed dimly to +remember, though he could not at first tell where they had met.</p> + +<p>"You are in a fog, I see," said the stranger, smiling. "Don't you +remember the Mischianza and the assistant Major André found for you?"</p> + +<p>"And you are Jonathan Elmer?" said Caspar, shaking the hand the other +held out to him.</p> + +<p>"Yes, and your friend Kitty's father. I little thought, when we parted +in Philadelphia that night, how we should meet again. How are you +feeling?"</p> + +<p>"Very much better, thank you, if only I could gain strength."</p> + +<p>"You will soon do that when you are able to get out of doors. Do you +feel equal to a little talk about your own and public affairs?"</p> + +<p>"Oh yes, indeed!" answered Caspar, eagerly. "I have so longed to hear +some news! But first tell me how you escaped."</p> + +<p>"Easily enough," answered Captain Elmer. "In fact, I had no need to +escape, for no one had thought of suspecting me. I went home to my +lodging, and the next morning, having gained all the information I +wanted, I walked away as I had come, made a circuit, and joined my +regiment. And now, in return for my story, tell me how you came hither, +for I don't suppose you came 'on purpose' to drive away the bear, as +Kitty says."</p> + +<p>Caspar replied by detailing the circumstances with which the reader is +already acquainted.</p> + +<p>"Then you really were a spy as well as myself, though not so +successful. I remember that fine Major André saying that you would do +good service in that line."</p> + +<p>"It was not Major André, but one of our own officers, to whom I was +indebted," said Caspar. "I had no choice, you know: I had to obey +orders."</p> + +<p>"That is of course. But what do you mean to do now?"</p> + +<p>"That is not for me to say. I am a prisoner, and I suppose under +sentence of death."</p> + +<p>"Hardly as bad as that," said Captain Elmer, smiling. "It is true that +death is usually the portion of a detected spy, but circumstances +alter cases. In the first place, you saved my own life and my child's. +In the second, you have acquired no information; and if you had, you +have had no chance to communicate it, and it would be of no use to +your commander as things are at present. Neither do I suppose you are +possessed of any knowledge which would be of use to us."</p> + +<p>"If I have, I would not give it you," said Caspar. "I have no wish +to return to the British service, but nothing shall induce me to act +against my old comrades."</p> + +<p>"There is no need," said Captain Elmer. "I suppose you have heard no +public news."</p> + +<p>"Not a word."</p> + +<p>"Then you don't know that Sir Henry Clinton has evacuated Philadelphia +a month ago, and been beaten by the American forces on his way across +the Jerseys?"</p> + +<p>"Beaten!" Caspar's face expressed the surprise he felt.</p> + +<p>"Why, yes, it amounted to that. The Americans encamped upon the ground, +and Sir Henry ran away in the night. That looks like being beaten, +doesn't it?"</p> + +<p>"It certainly does; and yet I hardly know how to believe it. I wonder +what old Von Falkenstein said?"</p> + +<p>"I fancy there were plenty of hard things said on both sides. The +triumph would have been much greater only for Lee's conduct."</p> + +<p>"And the Americans are in Philadelphia?" said Caspar, as if he could +not yet believe the news.</p> + +<p>"Yes, and a good many of your own countrymen besides."</p> + +<p>"Prisoners?"</p> + +<p>"No; deserters. It was curious to see the poor fellows creeping out of +every hole and corner, some of them half-starved. There have been still +more desertions on the line of march."</p> + +<p>"I can hardly blame my countrymen, though I could not make up my own +mind to desert," said Caspar. "I don't very well see how I can return +now if I wish it ever so much."</p> + +<p>"Under other circumstances you might be exchanged," said Captain Elmer. +"As it is, such a move might provoke inconvenient inquiries. My serious +advice to you, Reinhart, is to remain where you are till your strength +returns, and then go to work at your trade. You will find no trouble +in supporting yourself and laying up money.—I think you said you had a +wife and family?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; I have, or had, a wife and four children at home."</p> + +<p>"Well, this war cannot last for ever, and it can end only in one way," +said Captain Elmer, who, like most Americans, had not the slightest +doubt of the success of his country's cause. *</p> + +<p class="footnote"> +<br> +* This hopeful spirit was never stronger than in the darkest days of +the Revolution.<br> +<br> +</p> + +<p>"By that time, you may probably have enough beforehand to send for your +wife and children, and settle yourselves comfortably where your boys +can grow up in a free country and be as good as anybody."</p> + +<p>Caspar drew a deep breath.</p> + +<p>"That sounds very nice," said he; "but—"</p> + +<p>"Well, but what?"</p> + +<p>"I can hardly tell," said Caspar, "but the future looks dark to me. I +fear I shall never do a day's work again."</p> + +<p>"Nonsense! You will be as well as ever in a month."</p> + +<p>"And where shall I find work, supposing I am able to do it?"</p> + +<p>"Where shall you not find it, you might better say," returned Captain +Elmer, with a little impatience. "Anywhere! Here in Greenwich—up in +Bridgeton, where the greatest fool that ever slung a sledge is worth +his weight in gold, let alone a clever workman like yourself. There is +my uncle's forge suffering for want of a journeyman this minute. Don't +be so downhearted, man!"</p> + +<p>"See here, Jonathan Elmer: if it wasn't interfering with thy +arrangements, I should say thee was making Caspar talk more than was +good for him, considering that he has been sitting up all the morning +without anything to eat. Hadn't thee better stop now and let him have +something?" said Recompense Joake, appearing at the door with his usual +long face and a tray filled with good things for his patient.</p> + +<p>"I dare say you are right," said Captain Elmer.—"Reinhart, why didn't +you tell me I was tiring you to death?"</p> + +<p>"If thee wasn't inexperienced in the ways of sick folks, I should say +that was a foolish question," said Recompense, who seemed to find it +necessary to put all his propositions hypothetically, as the logicians +say. As he spoke, he quietly and quickly brought a small stand to +the side of Caspar's arm-chair, arranged his provisions thereon, and +brought the patient a basin of cool water to refresh his face and hands +before eating.</p> + +<p>"I declare, Recompense, you are a jewel!" said the captain, struck +with admiration. "You are as handy as an old woman. You ought to be +head-nurse in a hospital."</p> + +<p>"My mother used to say there was a corner for every crooked stick if it +could only be found," answered Recompense, busily cutting a delicate +little broiled chicken into pieces of convenient size and pouring out a +fragrant cup of spearmint tea. "I was always reckoned handy about sick +folks, though I ain't very smart other ways. Thee 'd better come away +now and let the man eat his dinner in peace. He has had talk enough for +one day."</p> + +<p>"He is getting on pretty well, isn't he?" asked Captain Elmer as they +descended the stairs from Caspar's room.</p> + +<p>"Well, middling," answered Recompense, with a true nurse's +unwillingness to say that his patient was improving. "I've seen them +get on faster, and I've seen them not so fast."</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry he is so downhearted."</p> + +<p>"Oh, thee needn't mind that. He will feel quite different when he has +eaten his dinner and had a nap. Thee gave him rather too great a dose +of talk with thy news and thy plans."</p> + +<p>"I dare say I was stupid," said the captain, apologetically, "but I had +thought it all over so many times, and he never said he was tired."</p> + +<p>"Of course he didn't. Sick folks hardly ever do; and there's where well +folks have got to look out for them. However, I don't think there's any +harm done.—Has thee settled his matters, think?"</p> + +<p>"Oh yes. There won't be any trouble, seeing that Clinton is out of the +way and all Jersey is in our hands for the present," answered Captain +Elmer. "There is nothing to hinder his going to work at his trade +either here in Greenwich or at Bridgeton, but I should advise the +latter, as being rather more out of the way."</p> + +<p>"And thee thinks he won't be liable to be taken and hung for a +deserter?"</p> + +<p>"Not unless he takes a great deal of pains to bring it about. Clinton +would have his hands fuller than they are now if he should undertake +to catch and hang all the men that have deserted in his march across +Jersey. Reinhart might go to Philadelphia without danger, but I believe +he will do as well, or better, in Bridgeton."</p> + +<p>As Recompense had predicted, Caspar was ready to take a brighter view +of his circumstances after he had eaten his broiled chicken. The +prospect which his friend held out to him was certainly alluring. +The trade of war was utterly hateful to him, and particularly so the +business of war and oppression, in which his countrymen were so largely +engaged. He enjoyed the thought of returning to his old trade and +living in peace with all mankind once more. Money, it was true, was +likely to be scarce in the colonies, but it would go hard but he would +lay up enough to purchase a bit of land, build himself a house, and +make a home ready for his wife and the children against the time when +he could send for them.</p> + +<p>The thought of never seeing Nonnenwald again gave him for the present +little concern. He had no near relatives; both his brothers had been +killed in the Seven Years' War, into which they had been forced as he +had been into his late situation. He could not be expected to feel very +much loyalty toward his sovereign. No; he would make a home in this +New World for himself and his family—such a house as he could see from +his window on the other side of the river. He would buy a cow or two, +and—But here the cows began to multiply themselves unaccountably, and +the landgrave of Hesse to appear on the scene in the shape of a fat +pig urgently begging not to be sold to Joses Dandy. In short, Caspar +fell sound asleep in the midst of his day-dreams, and awoke mightily +refreshed and able to take as reasonable a view of matters as his +friend could desire.</p> + +<p>The next day he was taken out for a drive, and the next he crept out +for a little walk round the garden, leaning on the arm of his faithful +nurse and accompanied by Kitty, whose delight at the recovery of her +friend was unbounded. She had quite made up her quarrel with Recompense +Joake, though they now and then had a little passage-at-arms. Caspar +found much to admire and wonder at, and his companions had enough to do +to answer his questions. The walk did him no harm, and the next day he +was able to go down to the river-side.</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>Caspar now gained strength rapidly, and began to try his hand at little +bits of work. He made a fine cradle for Kitty's doll. He mended all the +hinges about the place, and treated a case of complicated disorder in +the head of Deborah's spinning-wheel to the admiration of everybody. +He took lessons in English, and read all the books in the house, and +told stories about things in the old country, till Kitty clapped her +hands with delight, and Recompense declared that if it were not a sin +to repine, he should feel to be discontented at having seen so little +of the world. Nay, it is said that worthy was actually heard to laugh +aloud, thereby contradicting the notion prevalent among his friends +that he did not know how to perform that operation.</p> + +<p>Before the end of the summer months Caspar was settled in Bridgeton, +and as busily engaged in shoeing horses and mending disabled wheels as +he had ever been at his forge in Nonnenwald. He found, indeed, that he +had a good deal to learn of American ways and customs, but in return he +was able to give some valuable hints to his employer. He found that he +was not so strong as he had been, and that the sledge-hammer was rather +heavy. He cast about for some lighter work, and, discovering a good +lathe which was disused because its former owner had been killed in the +army, he bought it, put it in order, and proposed to his friend and +employer that they should set up the business of making and repairing +spinning-wheels, reels, and so forth. The venture was prosperous. He +found his hands full of work, and seemed likely to become rich enough +before long to purchase the place which he had already in his eye.</p> + +<p>He had only one serious trouble, and it was a very great one: he had +never heard a word from his family. He had written again and again, and +Captain Elmer had given his letters to some of his friends among the +French officers, on the chance of their going through France, but all +in vain. Not a word came in reply. There was no such thing possible as +going home. All that could be done was to wait with what patience and +fortitude he could muster for that "end of the war" which every one +prophesied, and which seemed every year to be farther off than ever. He +was not without his comforts by the way, as who is who walks through +the wilderness of this world with his eyes fixed on the Zion to which +he has set his face?</p> + +<p>It was a comfort to conquer the good-will of his neighbours, who, +it must be confessed, were at first much disposed to treat him as a +suspicious character, if not as a downright enemy. It was a comfort to +make the first payment on the little wooden house with its tall upper +story and picturesque cool "summer kitchen," characteristic of West +Jersey houses, and to go over the same and plan out little additions +to its beauty and convenience—to plant grapevines and currant-bushes +and rose trees and yellow honeysuckles to fill the air with fragrance; +to make a neat fence and plant a row of linden trees before the door, +and to whitewash everything with snowy shell-lime in true West Jersey +fashion.</p> + +<p>By and by, he found a still greater comfort. There were in the +neighbourhood of Bridgeton several German families who had come in and +taken up small pieces of land shortly before the war. They were very +poor and ignorant, and the children were growing up utterly wild and +untrained. It occurred to Caspar that here was a place to do something +for that Master who had done so much for him. It was perhaps too late +to do very much with the parents, but there were the children—such a +flock of them! Might they not be got together in some sort of school +and taught to read their Bibles and to speak good English? It was not +easy at first to gain the confidence of the children or the consent of +their parents to any such plan, but the common language was a great +help, and at last Caspar carried his point.</p> + +<p>Sunday-schools, in the present sense, were unknown, but Caspar +succeeded after a while in collecting together the urchins of the +settlement for an hour or more on Sunday afternoon to teach them to +read and to read to them out of the Bible. Presently, the spirit of +ambition was roused, and some of them began to be eager to make more +progress than was possible with a lesson once a week. Caspar could not +be spared in the daytime, but his evenings were free. Three times a +week he walked through the woods to the little settlement to hold an +evening-school among his German friends.</p> + +<p>There were not wanting some who smiled at his zeal, and others who +plainly hinted that Caspar was not likely to take so much trouble for +nothing, and that, most probably, some kind of plot was forming—perhaps +to bring the Hessians down and burn the town. But in general, people +had learned to believe in him, and his school proceeded in peace and +increased in usefulness day by day.</p> + +<p>On the nineteenth of October, 1781, the English forces at Yorktown +under Lord Cornwallis surrendered, and the war was virtually at an end, +but it was not till the twentieth of January, 1783, that the treaty +of peace was formally and finally signed at Paris. The news reached +Congress on the twenty-third of March, and soon spread through the +country.</p> + +<p>When Caspar heard that peace was proclaimed, he felt that he could wait +no longer. He must obtain news of his family at any risk. He resolved +to go to Philadelphia, and if needful to New York, find out some vessel +sailing to Europe, and proceed at least to some point near his former +home from which he could communicate with his family. He had abundance +of money for the purpose, and only waited till he could leave his +former employer and present partner without too much inconvenience, +and find a suitable tenant for his house to keep it in order till his +return.</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<h2><a id="Chapter_9">CHAPTER IX.</a></h2> + +<p class="t3"> +<em>NONNENWALD.</em><br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>WE must now return to Nonnenwald and the family of Gertrude Reinhart.</p> + +<p>Gertrude had never wavered in her determination to go to America. For +this end she saved and economized in every corner and worked almost +night and day. She made butter and sold it, raised fowls and calves and +fatted them for market; and when there was nothing else to be done, +her flax-wheel was never idle. Meantime, she and her children ate the +plainest food and wore their old clothes as long as they could be +kept decent. Once possessed of an object to work for beyond the mere +keeping of soul and body together, her spirits returned and increased +with her toil, and every one remarked how well Gertrude Reinhart was +looking, notwithstanding the fact that her light never seemed to go out +by night, and she worked in the field like a man—a thing she had never +done while her husband was at home.</p> + +<p>Circumstances favoured her. A legacy from a distant relation enabled +her to buy back the cows she had sold. The landgrave, moved by a tardy +sense of justice, exempted from all taxes the families of the soldiers +fighting in America. She found a ready sale for all her wares in the +market at Fulda. No butter was so hard and yellow as hers, no cheese so +well pressed and flavoured, and her fine thread was eagerly sought by +the traders and by the lace-makers. She soon had money out at interest, +and the interest was constantly added to the principal.</p> + +<p>People said truly that Gertrude was growing a rich woman, and they +added what was not true—that as she grew rich she became stingy in +proportion. Gertrude was not stingy. The poor village idiot, the poor +widow whose only son had been carried away to die of fever before he +was fairly embarked for America, could have told a different story. So +could the pastor, if he had chosen, but he was at this time most deeply +interested in the heresies of the third century; and, though he did not +forget to dispense the alms Gertrude put into his hand, he did forget +where they came from, and very likely thought they rained down from the +clouds like manna.</p> + +<p>Of course the children had their share in the sacrifice. Gustaf was a +hardy little fellow. He went to the village school, fed the hens, drove +up the cows, and spent his spare time in any amusement which gave him +the luxury of perpetual motion in the open air. He never lacked an +appetite for his black bread and milk morning and night and his cabbage +soup in the middle of the day, and took no trouble about his clothes +so long as they were not fine enough to be hurt by birds-nesting in +the woods or crystal-hunting in the torrent-beds on the mountain-side. +He was a good and pleasant child, who always did well everything that +could be done with hands; but he groaned sadly over his books, and the +schoolmaster declared that all the birch-rods that ever grew in the +Thuringerwald could never make a scholar of him. Uncle Franz had done +more for him by promising to teach him the use of the rifle as soon as +he could do a sum in compound division, and under the influence of that +stimulus, Gustaf was making fair progress with his arithmetic.</p> + +<p>Greta had begun with great enthusiasm the work of making and saving +money, but perhaps she had not altogether counted the cost, for she +was certainly growing rather tired of it. She had not realized that +saving money to go to America meant wearing her last winter's frock, +and buying no new ribbons, and laying aside her beloved lace-making +for the more profitable work of feeding calves and hens and spinning +woollen yarn. She had always considered herself somewhat superior +to her cousins and the other village-girls of her own age, but this +superiority somehow did not prevent her feeling mortified when Lenchen +had a new stuff gown and petticoat and Truda a new red cloak of fine +cloth, while she must furbish up the gown she had worn two years +already and wrap herself in the cloak which was already threadbare. The +very fact that she was vexed at such a little matter vexed her all the +more, as it showed her that she was not quite the grand person she had +believed herself to be, and certainly did not tend to make her more +amiable.</p> + +<p>If people could only have known "why" she did not go to the +ribbon-peddler's booth at the fair and wore her old clothes, she should +not have minded it so much; but Gertrude had thought it best to keep +her design a secret—at least till she saw some probability of putting +it into execution. Greta would not perhaps have been willing to give up +the design of going to America, but she did wish in her heart that it +had never been thought of. She began to think that perhaps life under +the landgrave might not be so insupportable, after all.</p> + +<p>Uncle Franz, who was growing old, had a young assistant, a certain +grand-nephew; and what was more natural than that he should often go +and see his relations, to give Philip a promising knot of wood for his +carving or carry to his aunt a pair of the rabbits or birds which in +the absence of the landgrave, who was growing rather fat for hunting, +were the perquisites of the huntsman? It was quite beautiful to see +what a dutiful step-nephew (if there be such a relation) Gertrude had +found in Louis Rosekranz.</p> + +<p>And Philip? Philip had grown large and strong, grave and manly. +Assisted by an old labourer who had worked for his father, he did most +of the labour of the little farm. His aim was to bring the place into +the best of order against the time when he should wish to sell it, +and meantime to make it produce enough for the support of the family. +He had so far succeeded very well. The apple-orchard, pruned and +cultivated once more, hung heavy with fruit, and the little vineyard +had never been more productive. By degrees everything about the place +was put into that state of perfect repair in which it had been Caspar's +pride to maintain it. Even the forge was once more in order, and, +rented to a responsible and industrious tenant, added its mite to the +family revenues.</p> + +<p>Philip had little time now for his favourite books, and his carving was +mostly limited to bowls and spoons of pear-tree and walnut wood, some +of them daintily ornamented with leaves and flowers and other devices, +which found a ready sale in Fulda and Eisenach. He had made the cross +for his little brother's grave and put it up in the churchyard. It was +much admired, and before long he found on his hands more orders for +crosses and tablets than he could fill in the long winter evenings, +which were mostly devoted to this work.</p> + +<p>He made it a rule to read a few lines every day of the Latin and +Greek which he had learned with his uncle—a habit which kept him from +forgetting entirely that which he had acquired, and which may be +practised with great advantage by people in like circumstances. If he +had any regrets or repinings, he kept them to himself or imparted than +to nobody but Brother Gotthold, still a frequent visitor at the little +stone cottage; and if he entertained any secret ambition, it was still +Brother Gotthold who was privy to it. In fact, a very warm and intimate +friendship existed between the old man and the young one.</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>Still the days went on, and no news came to the family at the stone +house of the husband and father they had lost. Other people had +letters, but, strangely enough, nobody said anything about Caspar +Reinhart. At last, late in the autumn of the year 1782, came news that +the regiment was coming home directly, that it had already landed and +was on its way through Prussia, and, finally, that the men would reach +their homes on All Saints' day, the first day of November. Everybody +was in a joyful bustle of preparation, but there were many sad hearts +sore with the loss of friends or sick with suspense, which scorned to +grow more dreadful as it came near being changed to certainty.</p> + +<p>Gertrude was one of the last of these. She would not admit even to +herself that she expected to see her husband. She had said again and +again to herself and to others that she was certain Caspar was dead, +since he had never written, and that she only refrained from putting on +mourning in deference to the feelings of her children. Nevertheless, +the news she heard came to her with a fearful shock, and it lost +nothing by the way in which she received it.</p> + +<p>Captain Burger's company was one of the last in the train which +entered the village on All Saints' day. The worthy captain was not in +a good-humour. He had missed the promotion which he had confidently +expected. He had not married a fortune, as he fully intended to do, +nor had he enriched himself with plunder, like some others. To do him +justice, the latter circumstance did not arise from any lack of zeal or +industry on his part, but rather to an inveterate habit of gambling. +In short, the doughty captain was under a cloud, and not unlikely to +remain so.</p> + +<p>"Your husband, woman? What should I know of your husband?" he answered, +roughly enough, when Gertrude questioned him.</p> + +<p>"What was his name?"</p> + +<p>"Caspar Reinhart—a smith from Nonnenwald," answered Gertrude, briefly.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Caspar Reinhart! Yes, yes, I remember," said he, pretending to +consider. "Oh yes! He deserted one fine day to escape the flogging he +richly merited, and was drowned in the bay. Never mind, good woman; I +dare say you may easily get another as good."</p> + +<p>Gertrude turned away with ashy cheeks and compressed lips, and went +into the house. She thought, as so many have thought under like +circumstances that she had given him up before; but giving up is not +so easy. Greta and Gustaf were drowned in tears, but Gertrude had no +tears to shed. She went about her housework as usual, but with such a +face that the neighbours who came to condole with her in her grief went +away scared at her unnatural composure and strange looks, and whispered +among themselves that Gertrude Reinhart was going mad.</p> + +<p>Later in the day, Philip came in.</p> + +<p>"Where is my mother?" he said to Greta, who was still sobbing in +passionate abandonment of grief.</p> + +<p>"She is out feeding the hens. I cannot tell what ails her," answered +Greta. "I cannot make her keep quiet or speak a word. Do try to see +what you can do. Perhaps she will hear you. Where have you been all +this thee?"</p> + +<p>"Gathering news," said Philip. "I did not believe that man's story, and +I have been asking my father's comrades about him.—Mother dear, will +you come here?" he called, stepping to the door. "I have something to +tell you."</p> + +<p>Philip's voice conveyed perhaps more of hopefulness than he felt.</p> + +<p>Gertrude came at once into the house, and sat down in the chair which +Philip placed for her. Her eyes were still dry and glittering, but her +colour changed and she looked less ghastly.</p> + +<p>"I have been talking with the men," Philip began, without any preface. +"That brute's news was not true, or at least not certain. Sergeant +Meyer tells me that my father did not desert, but was exchanged into +Von Falkenstein's troop of horse, where he was regimental smith."</p> + +<p>Gertrude drew a deep breath.</p> + +<p>"That wretch!" said Greta. "I should like to kill him."</p> + +<p>"Let him alone for a fool," said Philip. "Meyer says that so long as he +was with the regiment, my father bore the best character for steadiness +and good conduct; that he might have deserted a dozen times over if +he had chosen, and as hundreds did, but he was always at his post and +ready for duty; that no man could be braver in action, though he always +refused to help plunder and kill the poor country-people, and would +always protect the women and children when he could; and he believes +Burger spited him for that very reason."</p> + +<p>Gertrude's eyes had grown softer, and now overflowed with grateful +tears.</p> + +<p>"'I' never believed father would do anything dishonourable," said +Gustaf, proudly. "He might be killed, but he would never run away."</p> + +<p>"But you heard no certain news?" said Gertrude.</p> + +<p>"No. Meyer says the Waldeckers went south after they left Philadelphia, +and they never met again. The Waldeckers were in the last great +battle—Yorktown, I think they call it—where the great English lord +surrendered to the Americans. They came home two months ago, and +Colonel von Falkenstein, Meyer says, is living in his own home near +Waldeck. With your permission, dear mother, I will go thither, and it +will be hard, but I will obtain certain news of my father."</p> + +<p>"And how will you manage to gain access to him, my son? He is a great +man, I suppose."</p> + +<p>"I have thought of that," answered Philip. "Count von Meyren is Herr +von Falkenstein's own cousin, and they are great friends. I am sure he +will give me a letter to his cousin when I tell him why I want it. He +was always kind to me when I lived in Fulda. And even if I do not see +Herr von Falkenstein himself, I shall find plenty of old soldiers who +knew my father."</p> + +<p>"Bless thee, my son! Thou art thy father's own boy, and shalt do as +thou wilt," said Gertrude. "Anything is better than this uncertainty. +When will you set out?"</p> + +<p>"This very day, if Uncle Franz will lend me a horse and you will +furnish me with money. I can go to Fulda to-night, and see the count +to-morrow morning. Then I can set out on my journey to Waldeck +to-morrow afternoon."</p> + +<p>"I wish I could go," said Gustaf.</p> + +<p>"You must stay at home and take care of the mother and Greta," answered +Philip, his spirits rising, as they always did when he found anything +to do. "But if mother is willing, you shall come with me to Uncle Franz +to see if he will lend me the old gray."</p> + +<p>"You are very confident," said Greta, feeling a certain degree of +vexation for which she would have found it hard to account. "I don't +believe you will find it so easy to gain access to all these grand +people as you think. If you could persuade Louis Rosekranz to go—" She +paused, and was provoked to find herself colouring under Philip's look +and smile.</p> + +<p>"Louis Rosekranz is a good fellow, but I prefer to do my own business +myself, little sister," said Philip. "I know all the good old count's +ways exactly, even to the sunny terrace where I shall find him pacing +up and down with two dogs after him at nine o'clock to-morrow morning. +He never refuses to hear the poorest woman or child on his estate who +comes to him with a petition.—Come, Gustaf; there is no time to lose."</p> + +<p>Philip found his uncle overflowing with rage at Captain Burger, and +quite ready to lend him not only his best horse, but his best pair of +pistols into the bargain.</p> + +<p>Another good fortune awaited him at the lodge in the person of his old +friend, Count Maurice, who had come down for a few days' shooting. +Count Maurice had grown older and graver, and was dressed in mourning. +He remembered Philip directly, and on hearing the object of his +journey, he at once offered his assistance.</p> + +<p>"I know Von Falkenstein, and will give you a note to him, which will +save you so much time. He is a good-natured old man at heart, but you +must not be discouraged if he is crabbed at first. He is a good deal +like some of the stones of the mountain here—rough and hard without, +but pure and clear within.—I hear that your mother is living and doing +well. Does she still keep up her intention of going to America?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Your Highness, but we do not speak of it yet. I hope Count Victor +is well?"</p> + +<p>Maurice's face saddened.</p> + +<p>"Victor has left me," said he. "He died in great peace and hope a +year ago. I may well do all I can for you, Philip, since to you was +indirectly owing the comfort which brightened my dear brother's last +days. But I cannot talk of it now. I am coming to see your mother +before I leave. Here is your uncle with the horse; and a grand old +fellow he is, with plenty of fire in him still. Are you sure you are +equal to managing him?"</p> + +<p>"I think so, Your Highness!"</p> + +<p>"Philip? He will handle any horse that ever stepped, as quiet as he +looks," said Franz as he put the bridle into Philip's hands.—"There, +my boy! Good luck go with you!—There goes as fine a young fellow as +ever stepped on shoe-leather," he added as Philip rode away. "Not a bit +of show or bravado about him, but always prompt and ready for action, +whatever it may be. His father was just so before him."</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>Philip made his journey in two days and part of another, and arrived at +Waldeck in the afternoon. He put up his horse at a decent little inn, +and after taking some refreshment and getting rid of the soil of the +journey, he asked his way to Herr von Falkenstein's house.</p> + +<p>"You have but to follow your nose up the street and you come to the +gates as soon as you cross the bridge," answered the host. "The old +Herr is at home, I know, for I saw him this very day."</p> + +<p>Philip found his way easily enough; and accosting the first domestic he +met, he made known to him his desire to speak with his master.</p> + +<p>"And who are you who desire to see the Herr?" asked the man, with some +insolence. "Do you think he is to be at the beck and call of every +booby, like a country doctor?"</p> + +<p>"I have a letter and message for him from Count Maurice of Nassau," +answered Philip, keeping his temper, though the man's manner was +sufficiently provoking.</p> + +<p>"Well, give them to me, and I will deliver them."</p> + +<p>"With your allowance, no. I was to put the letter into the Herr's own +hands."</p> + +<p>"Yes, that is a likely story. Give me the letter if you have one, or I +will have you chased off the place."</p> + +<p>"Or be chased off yourself," said a tall, gray-haired old man who had +been an unseen spectator, stepping forward from behind a screen. "Who +is this to whom you use such threats without your master's knowledge?"</p> + +<p>The servant looked blank and crestfallen enough.</p> + +<p>"It is—it is only a country-fellow, Your Excellency," he stammered. +"He pretends to have a letter for Your Excellency, and I thought Your +Excellency would not care to be troubled, if Your Excellency pleases."</p> + +<p>"My Excellency will please to lay my cane about your ears some day," +said the gray-haired man, whom Philip at once guessed to be Von +Falkenstein himself.—"What are your name and business, young man?"</p> + +<p>"My name is Philip Reinhart, and I have a letter from Count Maurice to +Your Excellency," answered Philip, quietly as usual, though his heart +was beating so as almost to stop his breath.</p> + +<p>"Reinhart? Reinhart? I should know the name," said the old gentleman, +musingly.</p> + +<p>He broke the seal of the note, which Philip handed him, and glanced +over it.</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes, I understand," said he, kindly. "I thought I knew the name, +and the face also, I might say, for you are very like your father. I +remember him well. But this is not the place to talk of such matters. +Follow me."</p> + +<p>He led the way to a room, part parlour and part study, and, as it +seemed, part armoury and harness-room, from the number of saddles and +bridles, guns, hunting-knives, and such like matters which covered the +walls and floor.</p> + +<p>Two or three dogs lay before the small wood-fire which burned on the +hearth, and a big cat was nursing her brood of kittens in the great +leather-covered arm-chair.</p> + +<p>Colonel von Falkenstein cleared a chair fur Philip and took another for +himself—not the arm-chair, however. Philip took the seat offered him, +and waited to be spoken to.</p> + +<p>"And so you are Reinhart's son?" said the colonel, after he had read +over Count Maurice's note more than once. "On my word, you are a fine +young fellow, and I wish I had better news for you of your father. He +was a good, faithful, honest man, and the best smith I ever saw."</p> + +<p>Philip saw that the old gentleman was anxious to soften bad news; and +though he would rather have heard it in the shortest, bluntest words in +which it could be put, he felt the kindness intended.</p> + +<p>"My poor father is dead, then?" said he.</p> + +<p>"I cannot but fear so, my lad. He was sent on secret service—as a spy, +in short—into the country down the bay—West Jersey, they call it. It +was through no good-will of mine, I assure you. But they sent him. He +put off in a boat from the fort down the river, and that was the last +seen of him, but there was a terrible thunder-storm the next night, and +two or three days after, the boat, leaky and broken, was found floating +upside down in the bay. Your father's watch-coat was found entangled in +the thwarts; and though, of course, there is not absolute certainty, +I fear there is little doubt that he perished in the storm. He was a +good, brave Christian man, and died in the discharge of his duty, if +that is any comfort to you.—There! be a man, my poor boy."</p> + +<p>"It is a comfort, Your Excellency," said Philip as soon as he could +speak. "Captain Burger told my mother that my father had deserted to +avoid punishment."</p> + +<p>"Burger is a hound!" said Von Falkenstein, so angrily that the cat +looked up and uttered a startled remonstrance. "He has not so much +manhood about him as this dog. No, Philip Reinhart, your father died +as he had lived—like a soldier and a Christian; and it is not always +easy to be both, I can tell you. Many a time I have seen him sitting +on the ground or a stone reading his Bible when the other men would be +drinking or at dice. It was a shame to send him on such an errand, and +never would have happened but for his folly in spending so much time +learning English. But we all have our follies."</p> + +<p>Philip rose to go.</p> + +<p>"Oh, you must not leave me so soon," said the old gentleman. "You are +not fit to travel, and it grows late. How did you come hither?"</p> + +<p>"On horseback, Your Excellency, as far as the village."</p> + +<p>"And you left your horse at the inn, eh?"</p> + +<p>Philip assented.</p> + +<p>Colonel von Falkenstein opened the door and found Philip's first +acquaintance standing conveniently near the door—in fact, somewhat +suspiciously so.</p> + +<p>"Eavesdropping, eh?" said the colonel.</p> + +<p>"I was only waiting to show the young man out, Your Excellency."</p> + +<p>"Oh! Well, to reward your diligence, you may send Martin hither, and +then go down to the stable and tell one of the men to go to the inn +and ask for a horse belonging to—let me see—to Philip Reinhart. Tell +him to bring the horse up here and take good care of him. I would send +you, only I know you would be afraid of the horse. Do you understand, +or must I say it all over again?—The booby plagues my life out," he +added as the man disappeared in a hurry, "but you see, he is a widow's +son and I can't turn him away, though I have to rate him now and then. +Discipline must be upheld in such a family as mine, or all goes to +ruin.—There! Is that gray kitten playing with my seals again? I will +have them all drowned to-morrow. Cats are always torments."</p> + +<p>So saying, he lifted the small offender very gently from his +writing-table, stroked it till it purred loudly, and then restored it +to the side of its mother, where it remained for about the space of a +flash of lightning.</p> + +<p>Martin now made his appearance, a tall, gray-headed man like his +master, with the scar of a fearful sabre-cut making his face more grim +than it was by nature.</p> + +<p>"Oh, here you are! Martin, you remember Reinhart the smith, eh? Well, +this is his son come to ask news of his father.—And why does every +widow and orphan in the country come to me for news of their friends?" +cried the old man, angrily. "Can I help people being killed when they +go in war?"</p> + +<p>Apparently, Martin did not think this riddle capable of a solution, for +he remained at "attention," and said never a word.</p> + +<p>"Well, well!—Philip Reinhart, this man is an old comrade of your +father's, and loved him well. He can tell you all about him.—Martin, +take him with you and make him comfortable, and see that the men take +care of his horse. You have a good horse, eh? You would make a famous +trooper yourself; would he not, Martin?"</p> + +<p>"Too light," said Martin.</p> + +<p>"Nonsense! You think every one too light who is not as big as your +master or yourself—Eh! What's this?" as the irrepressible gray kitten +came swarming up his back as if he had been a tree. "These torments of +cats! I will have them all drowned to-morrow."</p> + +<p>"I can drown them to-night if Your Excellency desires," said Martin.</p> + +<p>"No, no! You have enough to do; and besides, why should you hurt the +little innocent things?" answered his master, hastily and somewhat +angrily. "What harm have they done you, that you are in such a hurry to +kill them?"</p> + +<p>Martin smiled grimly, but made no reply.</p> + +<p>"There! Go now with Martin, and don't grieve too much, and tell your +mother not to grieve too much. Your father was a brave soldier and a +good Christian, and—and the best smith I ever saw; and doubtless she +will meet him in heaven," said the colonel, mixing up his words rather +oddly in his sincere desire to console Philip. "She is poorly off, eh? +A little ready money, now—"</p> + +<p>"Oh no, Your Excellency; we are well-to-do," answered Philip, somewhat +hastily, as the colonel put his hand in his pocket. "I thank you for +the thought; but, so far as that goes, we need nothing."</p> + +<p>"That is well; I am glad to hear it," answered the colonel. "That +isn't as bad as if she did not know where to turn for a meal for her +children.—There, Martin!"—suddenly changing the subject. "Somebody has +broken the cat's basin again. I must have a wooden one. See and provide +one."</p> + +<p>Philip resolved in his mind that the colonel should have such a wooden +basin as never lady-cat rejoiced in before. He made his bow, and +followed Martin to his own apartment—a snug room in a tower of the old +castle-like pile, in much better order than his master's.</p> + +<p>"There! Sit down, sit down!" said Martin, making Philip comfortable. +"We will have our supper here, and then we can talk in peace. I have a +good deal to say to you."</p> + +<p>The supper was produced, and a savoury one it was, but Philip's heart +was too full for him to eat. Now that the last glimmering spark of hope +was put out, he knew how carefully he had cherished it.</p> + +<p>"And so you came all the way over here to get news of your father, eh?" +said Martin, after he had lighted his pipe.</p> + +<p>"And only to hear that there is no more hope of seeing him alive," +said Philip, sadly. "Only that certainty is better for my mother than +suspense, I might have saved my journey. We shall never see my father +again till the sea gives up its dead."</p> + +<p>"I am not so sure of that," said Martin.</p> + +<p>Philip looked at him in surprise.</p> + +<p>"One does not tell all one knows even when he has Von Falkenstein for a +master," continued Martin.</p> + +<p>He took a few more pulls at his pipe, and then added, "I don't think it +by any means certain that your father is dead."</p> + +<p>Philip started from his chair.</p> + +<p>"Sit down, sit down!" said the old man. "I will tell you all I know, +and then you can judge for yourself how much to believe. There was +a man named Dandy who used to sell eggs, butter, and cheese in the +British and Hessian camp while we were in Philadelphia. He was what +they call a Tory, and a great scamp, like most of them. His neighbours +found him out, so he had to leave his home, and he became a regular +camp-follower. I saw him down at Yorktown, where we surrendered to +the Yankees. Ah! They made it hot for us, I can tell you. I never saw +hotter work."</p> + +<p>Philip was on fire with impatience, but he prudently refrained from +interruption.</p> + +<p>"Where was I?" continued Martin. "Yes, I know. I saw this Dandy. He was +from that very part of the country whither your father was sent, and he +told me that your father was taken prisoner, and would have been hung, +only he pretended to have saved the life of a child belonging to one +of the Yankee officers that was lost in the woods. That was the way +he put it, you see. It was plain he had a great spite at your father +for something, though I didn't find out what. Well, to make a long +story short, he said your father was released, and that he was living +somewhere in West Jersey—he told me the name of the town, but I can't +remember it—and was working as a smith and making plenty of money."</p> + +<p>"Do you think it can be true?" said Philip, feeling as if he were in a +dream.</p> + +<p>"I think so. I asked the man if he were sure, and he said yes, he had +seen those who knew him. I meant to see him again, but unluckily he +was mixed up in a drunken quarrel that very night—he had got to be a +terrible drunkard—and was knocked on the head, so that he never knew +anything afterward, and died in a few days. I never told the colonel, +for in the army one learns not to tell all one knows. It might by +chance have made your father trouble."</p> + +<p>"And you think it can be true?" said Philip again.</p> + +<p>"Oh yes; there is nothing improbable in it. Very likely he did save the +child, and they let him off in consequence. He couldn't have got back +to the army very well if he had wished, for we left Philadelphia about +that time, and the Yankees gave us lively times crossing Jersey."</p> + +<p>"But the boat?"</p> + +<p>"Well, that might have floated off when he landed. Anyhow, there is the +story."</p> + +<p>"It is strange my father should not have written!" said Philip.</p> + +<p>"He wrote before he left the army, I know, for he gave me the letter, +and I put it in the way to be sent. But half the letters were lost. +Afterward, he would not have many chances.—There! I must go and wait on +my master at supper. Sit you quiet here, or go out to walk if you like, +but come back hither. The colonel said you were to lodge here to-night."</p> + +<p>"He is very kind, but it is not necessary," said Philip. "I have money +enough to stay at the inn."</p> + +<p>"No, no! You must not think of it!" said Martin, hastily. "The colonel +would never forgive you, or me either."</p> + +<p>Philip resigned himself. He was not sorry to be alone a while to +arrange his ideas.</p> + +<p>When he again saw Martin, he plied him with questions: "Was Jersey a +large place? Were there many towns? How did one go to reach it?"</p> + +<p>All of which questions Martin answered with the utmost good-humour.</p> + +<p>"I see what is brewing in your young head, but don't be in a hurry. +Think well of it."</p> + +<p>"I will," said Philip, but he had already made up his mind what to do.</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<h2><a id="Chapter_10">CHAPTER X.</a></h2> + +<p class="t3"> +<em>CONCLUSION.</em><br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>PHILIP had a prosperous journey homeward, and found Gustaf on the +lookout for him a little beyond the village.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Philip, are you come? Won't you take me up, please?"</p> + +<p>"You shall ride all alone, and I will walk beside you," said Philip, +dismounting and putting Gustaf into the saddle, but keeping his own +hand on the bridle.</p> + +<p>"Has anything happened at home?"</p> + +<p>"Brother Gotthold has come; and only think, Philip! He is going to +America. I wish he would take me."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps we shall all go some time," said Philip, thinking as he spoke +that the way was already opening for his scheme.</p> + +<p>"Really?" said Gustaf with sparkling eyes.</p> + +<p>"Yes, really; but you must not tell any one. Show now that you are a +man and can keep a secret. How is the mother?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know," replied Gustaf, his face saddening. "She does not cry; +but she looks—oh, so sad! Did you hear any news?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, plenty; but I must tell mother first. You shall hear."</p> + +<p>Philip found the preacher seated by the fireside. He was growing old, +but his frame seemed as vigorous and his mind as clear and active as +ever.</p> + +<p>Gertrude received her son with a warm and silent embrace. She hastened +to provide supper for him, but never asked a question as to the success +of his errand till he had eaten and seated himself by the fire. And +Philip, who had a comprehension of and sympathy with his mother's moods +to which Greta could never attain, said nothing of all that was in his +mind.</p> + +<p>At last Gertrude asked a question: "You have news, my son? Good or bad?"</p> + +<p>"Good, I trust, mother—not absolutely certain, but probably so. I +believe I have reason to think my father may be alive and doing well."</p> + +<p>There was a dead silence while Philip told his tale.</p> + +<p>"And is that all?" said Greta, in a tone of deep disappointment, as he +paused. "I do not see that it comes to anything. One man told another +that my father was living somewhere in that great wilderness—that is +all."</p> + +<p>"Not exactly so, Greta. He was living in a town in one of the smaller +provinces—Jersey is its name. It is not a wilderness, since old Martin +told me they have fine towns, farms, and churches, and even a college."</p> + +<p>"A college! Yes, that is very likely!"</p> + +<p>"I believe it is true," said Brother Gotthold. "There are several +colleges in America, and many fine towns, as I can show you, since +I have in my pocket a map of the country. The city to which I am +going—Philadelphia—is a very large and fine one, I hear."</p> + +<p>"Larger than Eisenach?" asked Gustaf.</p> + +<p>"Oh yes, much larger, and a place of great wealth and trade. See, here +it is; and here, across this great river, is the province of which +Philip speaks."</p> + +<p>All crowded round to look at the map, which Brother Gotthold spread out +on the table. It was a tolerably good one, shading off at the west into +indefinite space, but with the eastern provinces plainly laid down.</p> + +<p>"What a great country!" said Gustaf. "Is it bigger than Germany?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, larger than all Germany, and Holland thrown in."</p> + +<p>"Yes, here is Jersey," said Philip.</p> + +<p>"If one only knew in what town to look!" sighed Greta.</p> + +<p>"There are not so many but that one might look in all of them in the +course of a year," said Philip, attentively studying the map. "They +seem to have roads, too."</p> + +<p>"What are you thinking of, my son?" said his mother. "I can see that +you have some plan in your head?"</p> + +<p>"First tell me, dear mother, is it still your wish to go and live in +America?"</p> + +<p>"It is, more than ever if that were possible," said Gertrude, firmly. +"I wish we were ready to depart when Brother Gotthold goes next month, +but that cannot be."</p> + +<p>"Then, mother, this is my plan," said Philip: "Let me go out with +Brother Gotthold. Once in America, I will visit in turn every town and +village in Jersey, and seek everywhere for news of my father. Meantime, +I can also be seeking out a home for the rest of you, and making it +ready against your coming. Or should I find the country totally unfit +for us, I can return, and the loss will be less than if we all went."</p> + +<p>"How can you come back when you have spent all your money?" asked Greta.</p> + +<p>"I will go to work and earn more," answered Philip. "I remember Count +Maurice said labour was never to seek there."</p> + +<p>"And if you are burned by the Indians or hung by the Yankees?" said +Greta.</p> + +<p>"There is little danger of that," remarked Brother Gotthold. "The +Indians are only troublesome on the western border, and the Americans +are a kind and humane people, and very hospitable to strangers."</p> + +<p>"So old Martin says. He told me that at first, when the Hessian +prisoners were sent through the country to the place where they +were to be kept, the people railed at them. But the great American +general—Washington is his name—caused notice to be published everywhere +that the Hessians had not come to fight of their own free will, but +because they were forced to do so. After that they were treated with +the greatest kindness, the country-people bringing out provisions for +them and comforts for the sick and wounded. * If they would do that in +time of war, they would not be less kind in time of peace."</p> + +<p class="footnote"> +<br> +* See "The Journal of a Hessian Officer," quoted by Irving.<br> +<br> +</p> + +<p>"But the people speak English, I understand, Philip, and you know no +English."</p> + +<p>"I must learn what I can on the voyage. I presume some one on the ship +will speak it."</p> + +<p>"I will teach you," said Brother Gotthold. "English is regularly +studied in all our schools, as the missionaries never know when they +may be sent to some of the English-speaking colonies. I have been +making a business of perfecting myself in the language of late, and it +will help me greatly to impart what I have learned."</p> + +<p>It struck Philip as curious that both the preacher and his mother spoke +of his proposed journey as already a settled matter.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps we have talked enough for to-night," said he. "To-morrow we +will take it up again."</p> + +<p>"And if you do go on this wild-goose chase—for such I must say it seems +to me—who is to take care of my mother and the farm while you are away?"</p> + +<p>"My mother herself, with you and Gustaf to help her; and Louis +Rosekranz, perhaps," answered Philip. "We shall see about that. But you +must allow, sister, that if we make this move, on which my mother's +heart is set, it is better for me to go first."</p> + +<p>"Yes, 'if' we go. I wish we had never thought of going," said Greta, +vehemently.</p> + +<p>"Why, Greta, you used to be the most earnest in the scheme of any of +us. You used to accuse me of being a spoil-sport if I said a word +against it, and you declared you would rather dwell in a cabin in the +woods than live in a palace in the landgrave's dominions."</p> + +<p>"What signifies bringing up every idle word one ever spoke?" said +Greta, pettishly. "I was a child, and did not know what I was talking +about. But I see there is no use in talking, since you have mother on +your side. Nobody cares what I think or feel about anything."</p> + +<p>The next day the matter was discussed in all its length and breadth in +a grave family council, to which Uncle Franz and Louis Rosekranz were +called.</p> + +<p>Uncle Franz growled a little, thought it better to let well alone, but +on the whole did not offer as much opposition as had been expected.</p> + +<p>Louis Rosekranz was fired with enthusiasm at the very idea. He had been +talking with the returned veterans, and had his head full of wonderful +stories. Besides that, he had known a man who went to America with +only his hands and tools, and now wrote back that he owned a hundred +acres of land all his own. There were forests full of deer, bears, and +wolves, rivers swarming with fish, and birds like the quails that the +doctor read of from the Scripture. He would go with Philip himself, +only that Uncle Franz needed him just now. His part should be to see +that his aunt never wanted for anything which the most devoted son +could give her while Philip was away.</p> + +<p>Greta tossed her head and murmured something about people's waiting +till they were asked, but it was noticeable that she entirely withdrew +her opposition to Philip's plans, and worked with great zeal to further +his preparations.</p> + +<p>But unexpected delays occurred. The season was far advanced. A winter +voyage was dangerous, and Brother Gotthold's directors decided that +he had better wait till spring. Philip spent the winter in diligently +studying English, and in carving for Herr von Falkenstein's cat such a +basin and platter as drew forth the old gentleman's utmost approbation. +It was not till April that Philip and his friend set sail, with every +prospect of a prosperous voyage.</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>It was in the middle of June, 1783, that Caspar Reinhart called at the +office of Fussell & Edelman, on the wharf at Philadelphia. They were +German merchants, and he had been directed to them as the persons most +likely to tell him what he wished to know.</p> + +<p>"You are just in time," said old Mr. Fussell when he learned the +stranger's business. "There is a ship from Hamburg just coming up the +river at this moment. She has some emigrants on board, they tell me, +and perhaps you may find friends among them. If you will wait a little, +we will go down and see."</p> + +<p>"If you please, sir, the 'Gem' has just come up to her berth," said a +porter, hearing his employer's words.</p> + +<p>"Good!" said the old man. "We will go down directly. Rather better to +have peaceful merchantmen coming up the river than transports full of +troops, eh?"</p> + +<p>Caspar assented heartily. He was standing on the dock, rather sadly +watching the passengers as they landed, when a hand was laid on his +arm, and he turned round to see a tall, handsome youth, so like his +youngest brother that he started as if he had seen a ghost.</p> + +<p>"Father! Don't you know your little Philip?"</p> + +<p>"My son, my son!—But your mother, dear boy?" said Caspar, after the +first agitated greetings were over.</p> + +<p>"Alive and well, dear father; but I have much to tell you."</p> + +<p>"We will talk it all over at home, my boy. For I have a home fairer +than the old one at Nonnenwald. I have made it ready, and this very day +I came to find means of going to bring you all over. Thank Heaven, we +did not miss each other on the way!"</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>In the course of another year, Gertrude Reinhart was fairly established +in the tall white house, wondering greatly at American ways, but +conforming to them quite as well as could be expected.</p> + +<p>In another house not far away, Louis Rosekranz and his young wife were +settled; and Louis was learning that in order to live even in America, +he must attend to his farming and leave the game to take care of +itself. He had discovered that it would never do to let his aunt take +such a long journey alone; and having inherited a small property from +his father, he determined to use it in purchasing a farm in the New +World.</p> + +<p>Gustaf went to school, helped his father in the shop, worked in the +garden, and made himself useful and liked everywhere.</p> + +<p>Philip's mind had for some time been turning strongly toward the +ministry, and Brother Gotthold, whom he had consulted, encouraged him +in the idea, seeing in him gifts and dispositions eminently suited +for the work. His father was in easy circumstances and growing richer +year by year, and he was both able and willing to afford his son all +the help he needed. In a year from his landing, Philip was ready to +enter Princeton College, from which he graduated with credit; and not +long after, he was settled as pastor in one of the towns which were +springing up all over the country. He married a wife who was a true +help to him—a vivacious little gray-eyed woman, who, when she wished to +coax her father-in-law to come and visit her, used to address him by +the title of "Mr. Hessian."</p> + +<p>Recompense Joake used to sometimes remark that if it did not seem like +boasting, he should think he had done a good thing in nursing Caspar +through that fever.</p> + +<p>Several children were added to the household of Caspar and Gertrude +Reinhart, and Greta sometimes found herself confused between her +children and her brothers and sisters, but this circumstance is not +supposed to have caused any serious inconvenience. The descendants of +the two families are among the most respected citizens of New Jersey +and various other States.</p> + +<p>A certain Louis Rosekranz remarked the other day that he thought he had +a right to go to the Centennial, because his great-grandfather fought +in the war of the Revolution.</p> + +<p>"On which side?" asked his father, smiling.</p> + +<p>"Bother!" said Louis. "I never thought of that!"</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p class="t3"> +THE END.<br> +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<div style='text-align:center'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 77860 ***</div> +</body> +</html> diff --git a/77860-h/images/image001.jpg b/77860-h/images/image001.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..51e3425 --- /dev/null +++ b/77860-h/images/image001.jpg diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6c72794 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This book, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. 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