Chapter 23

Down the river Erskine rode with a sad heart. At the place where he had fought with Grey he pulled Firefly to a sudden halt. There was the boundary of Red Oaks and there started a desolation that ran as far as his eye could reach. Red Oaks had not been spared, and he put Firefly to a fast gallop, with eyes strained far ahead and his heart beating with agonized foreboding and savage rage. Soon over a distant clump of trees he could see the chimneys of Barbara�s home�his home, he thought helplessly�and perhaps those chimneys were all that was left. And then he saw the roof and the upper windows and the cap of the big columns unharmed, untouched, and he pulled Firefly in again, with overwhelming relief, and wondered at the miracle. Again he started and again pulled in when he caught sight of three horses hitched near the stiles. Turning quickly from the road, he hid Firefly in the underbrush. Very quietly he slipped along the path by the river, and, pushing aside through the rose-bushes, lay down where unseen he could peer through the closely matted hedge. He had not long to wait. A white uniform issued from the great hall door and another and another�and after them Barbara�smiling. The boy�s blood ran hot�smiling at her enemies. Two officers bowed, Barbara courtesied, and they wheeled on their heels and descended the steps. The third stayed behind a moment, bowed over her hand and kissed it. The watcher�s blood turned then to liquid fire. Great God, at what price was that noble old house left standing? Grimly, swiftly Erskine turned, sliding through the bushes like a snake to the edge of the road along which they must pass. He would fight the three, for his life was worth nothing now. He heard them laughing, talking at the stiles. He heard them speak Barbara�s name, and two seemed to be bantering the third, whose answering laugh seemed acquiescent and triumphant. They were coming now. The boy had his pistols out, primed and cocked. He was rising on his knees, just about to leap to his feet and out into the road, when he fell back into a startled, paralyzed, inactive heap. Glimpsed through an opening in the bushes, the leading trooper in the uniform of Tarleton�s legion was none other than Dane Grey, and Erskine�s brain had worked quicker than his angry heart. This was a mystery that must be solved before his pistols spoke. He rose crouching as the troopers rode away. At the bend of the road he saw Grey turn with a gallant sweep of his tricornered hat, and, swerving his head cautiously, he saw Barbara answer with a wave of her handkerchief. If Tarleton�s men were around he would better leave Firefly where he was in the woods for a while. A jay-bird gave out a flutelike note above his head; Erskine never saw a jay-bird perched cockily on a branch that he did not think of Grey; but Grey was brave�so, too, was a jay-bird. A startled gasp behind him made him wheel, pistol once more in hand, to find a negro, mouth wide open and staring at him from the road.

�Marse Erskine!� he gasped. It was Ephraim, the boy who had led Barbara�s white ponies out long, long ago, now a tall, muscular lad with an ebony face and dazzling teeth. �Whut you doin� hyeh, suh? Whar� yo� hoss? Gawd, I�se sutn�ly glad to see yuh.� Erskine pointed to an oak.

�Right by that tree. Put him in the stable and feed him.�

The negro shook his head.

�No, suh. I�ll take de feed down to him. Too many redcoats messin� round heah. You bettah go in de back way�dey might see yuh.�

�How is Miss Barbara?�

The negro�s eyes shifted.

�She�s well. Yassuh, she�s well as common.�

�Wasn�t one of those soldiers who just rode away Mr. Dane Grey?�

The negro hesitated.

�Yassuh.�

�What�s he doing in a British uniform?�

The boy shifted his great shoulders uneasily and looked aside.

�I don�t know, suh�I don�t know nuttin�.�

Erskine knew he was lying, but respected his loyalty.

�Go tell Miss Barbara I�m here and then feed my horse.�

�Yassuh.�

Ephraim went swiftly and Erskine followed along the hedge and through the rose-bushes to the kitchen door, where Barbara�s faithful old Mammy was waiting for him with a smile of welcome but with deep trouble in her eyes.

�I done tol� Miss Barbary, suh. She�s waitin� fer yuh in de hall.�

Barbara, standing in the hall doorway, heard his step.

�Erskine!� she cried softly, and she came to meet him, with both hands outstretched, and raised her lovely face to be kissed. �What are you doing here?�

�I am on my way to join General Lafayette.�

�But you will be captured. It is dangerous. The country is full of British soldiers.�

�So I know,� Erskine said dryly.

�When did you get here?�

�Twenty minutes ago. I would not have been welcome just then. I waited in the hedge. I saw you had company.�

�Did you see them?� she faltered.

�I even recognized one of them.� Barbara sank into a chair, her elbow on one arm, her chin in her hand, her face turned, her eyes looking outdoors. She said nothing, but the toe of her slipper began to tap the floor gently. There was no further use for indirection or concealment.

�Barbara,� Erskine said with some sternness, and his tone quickened the tapping of the slipper and made her little mouth tighten, �what does all this mean?�

�Did you see,� she answered, without looking at him, �that the crops were all destroyed and the cattle and horses were all gone?�

�Why did they spare the house?� The girl�s bosom rose with one quick, defiant intake of breath, and for a moment she held it.

�Dane Grey saved our home.�

�How?�

�He had known Colonel Tarleton in London and had done something for him over there.�

�How did he get in communication with Colonel Tarleton when he was an officer in the American army?� The girl would not answer.

�Was he taken prisoner?� Still she was silent, for the sarcasm in Erskine�s voice was angering her.

�He fought once under Benedict Arnold�perhaps he is fighting with him now.�

�No!� she cried hotly.

�Then he must be a���

She did not allow him to utter the word.

�Why Mr. Grey is in British uniform is his secret�not mine.�

�And why he is here is�yours.�

�Exactly!� she flamed. �You are a soldier. Learn what you want to know from him. You are my cousin, but you are going beyond the rights of blood. I won�t stand it�I won�t stand it�from anybody.�

�I don�t understand you, Barbara�I don�t know you. That last time it was Grey, you�and now�� He paused and, in spite of herself, her eyes flashed toward the door. Erskine saw it, drew himself erect, bowed and strode straight out. Nor did the irony of the situation so much as cross his mind�that he should be turned from his own home by the woman he loved and to whom he had given that home. Nor did he look back�else he might have seen her sink, sobbing, to the floor.

When he turned the corner of the house old Mammy and Ephraim were waiting for him at the kitchen door.

�Get Firefly, Ephraim!� he said sharply.

�Yassuh!�

At the first sight of his face Mammy had caught her hands together at her breast.

�You ain�t gwine, Marse Erskine,� she said tremulously. �You ain�t gwine away?�

�Yes, Mammy�I must.�

�You an� Miss Barbary been quoilin�, Marse Erskine�you been quoilin���and without waiting for an answer she went on passionately: �Ole Marse an� young Marse an� Marse Hugh done gone, de niggahs all gone, an� nobody lef� but me an� Ephraim�nobody lef� but me an� Ephraim�to give dat little chile one crumb o� comfort. Nobody come to de house but de redcoats an� dat mean Dane Grey, an� ev�y time he come he leave Miss Barbary cryin� her little heart out. �Tain�t Miss Barbary in dar�hit�s some other pusson. She ain�t de same pusson�no, suh. An� lemme tell yu�lemme tell yu�ef some o� de men folks doan come back heah somehow an� look out fer dat little gal�she�s a-gwine to run away wid dat mean low-down man whut just rid away from heah in a white uniform.� She had startled Erskine now and she knew it.

�Dat man has got little Missus plum� witched, I tell ye�plum� witched. Hit�s jes like a snake wid a catbird.�

�Men have to fight, Mammy���

�I doan keer nothin� �bout de war.�

�I�d be captured if I stayed here���

�All I keer �bout is my chile in dar���

�But we�ll drive out the redcoats and the whitecoats and I�ll come straight here���

�An� all de men folks leavin� her heah wid nobody but black Ephraim an� her ole Mammy.� The old woman stopped her fiery harangue to listen:

�Dar now, heah dat? My chile hollerin� fer her ole Mammy.� She turned her unwieldy body toward the faint cry that Erskine�s heart heard better than his ears, and Erskine hurried away.

�Ephraim,� he said as he swung upon Firefly, �you and Mammy keep a close watch, and if I�m needed here, come for me yourself and come fast.�

�Yassuh. Marse Grey is sutn�ly up to some devilmint no which side he fightin� fer. I got a gal oveh on the aige o� de Grey plantation an� she tel� me dat Marse Dane Grey don�t wear dat white uniform all de time.�

�What�s that�what�s that?� asked Erskine.

�No, suh. She say he got an udder uniform, same as yose, an� he keeps it at her uncle Sam�s cabin an� she�s seed him go dar in white an� come out in our uniform, an� al�ays at night, Marse Erskine�al�ays at night.�

The negro cocked his ear suddenly:

�Take to de woods quick, Marse Erskine. Horses comin� down the road.�

But the sound of coming hoof-beats had reached the woodsman�s ears some seconds before the black man heard them, and already Erskine had wheeled away. And Ephraim saw Firefly skim along the edge of a blackened meadow behind its hedge of low trees.

�Gawd!� said the black boy, and he stood watching the road. A band of white-coated troopers was coming in a cloud of dust, and at the head of them rode Dane Grey.

�Has Captain Erskine Dale been here?� he demanded.

Ephraim had his own reason for being on the good side of the questioner, and did not even hesitate.

�Yassuh�he jes� lef�! Dar he goes now!� With a curse Grey wheeled his troopers. At that moment Firefly, with something like the waving flight of a bluebird, was leaping the meadow fence into the woods. The black boy looked after the troopers� dust.

�Gawd!� he said again, with a grin that showed every magnificent tooth in his head. �Jest as well try to ketch a streak o� lightning.� And quite undisturbed he turned to tell the news to old Mammy.