CHAPTER XI

_A Turning of the Tables_

It was nearly dark when the boat touched the opposite shore, and the company disembarked. They proceeded on their way unmolested, and at last a friendly beam ahead showed them that they were nearing the Silverthorns' house. Kate's voice trembled with eagerness as she cried, "I can see into the room, and there is Sue. Dear Sue! I wonder if she suspects."

"Not a bit of it," replied her father. "We don't give information of our secret expeditions. She will be as surprised as you were."

As the little procession came around the corner of the house, Sue came to the door and peered out. "Is that you, father?" she asked. "Down, Cæsar! you needn't bark so furiously; it's all right."

"It's myself, daughter, sure enough," her father told her. "We've brought you visitors. Sue; extra company for supper."

Then Kate darted forward and threw herself in her sister's arms. "Sue, dear old Sue, we're all here!"

"What!" Sue could hardly believe her ears. "Kate and Jack and Royal, and actually Marianne! What does it all mean?"

"It means," said her father, laughing, "that we've turned the tables and taken them all prisoners. First, they were the Reyburns' prisoners, and now they are the Silverthorns'. Come in, boys. Take this young lady upstairs, Sue; she's our prisoner, too."

"I never heard of such a thing!" Sue exclaimed. "You don't really mean it, father. Tell me the truth. I want to hear all about it."

"Want to hear all about it, hey? I shouldn't wonder if there were not a little curiosity in other quarters. It's a surprise all around. We went over the river, a party of us, to see if we could get some provender, supplies being rather short on this side, and as we were reconnoitring about there, what did we see but a party of horsemen--and horsewomen--approaching. We didn't know there were any women in the party and were a bit scared, for we thought we might be going to have a skirmish; but as they came nearer, what was our surprise to see it was our own young folks. All of a sudden it popped into my head that it would be a good joke to capture them and carry them back home again, so I spoke to the others and they fell into my plan,--thought it would be a good joke; and we hid ourselves in the bushes till they came along, and then we grabbed them. You never saw a more startled set in your life. I thought it was high time we had our boy and girl home again; and then it didn't seem more than right that we should entertain those who had been entertaining them, and so we brought along Miss Marianne and her company. There you have the whole story."

"That's the way of it, was it?" said Jack. "And it was a surprise to you as well as to us. I am afraid, though, that Mr. and Mrs. Reyburn will think we are rather impolite to take such unceremonious leave of them after all their kindness to us."

"You can write them as polite a note as you choose, and I reckon we'll find a way to get it through the lines; you see we have an officer of the king right at hand,--your grandfather, the major, there."

"Is grandfather a major?" exclaimed Kate. "We will have to walk a chalk line now."

"Major Silverthorn he is, so we can dispose of our prisoners at once. Shall we draw and quarter them, major, or put them in a dungeon?" he asked, looking at Marianne with a quizzical smile as he spoke.

"Jack and Royal can return to their regiment when the call comes for action," said Major Silverthorn. "The young lady is our guest," he bowed to Marianne, "and this young gentleman--well, we'll see about him to-morrow."

"I'm on parole, sir," said Jack.

"But, bless me! you didn't try to get away; we fetched you," said his father.

"I'll not go back on my word, whether it was by my own act or not that I got away," Jack assured him.

His grandfather nodded approval. "That's an honorable spirit, my boy. I like to hear you speak so. I think we may release Mr. Lyle on parole. Consider these your quarters, Mr. Lyle. You will not go beyond the limits of our place here, you understand, but you might have worse quarters."

Worse quarters, indeed, thought Fred, as he looked around on the big comfortable room, plain in its appointments, yet boasting more than one handsome piece of furniture, brought from their old home by the Silverthorns when they fled from the States. Fred was perfectly ready to give his parole, and all but Marianne seemed quite satisfied with the state of affairs.

"I have not a stitch of clothing except what I have on," Marianne complained.

"You can go to grandmother's and get something there," Royal told her. "This is something like a joke, for no one is hurt, and we are simply returning a visit. I think even father could see the humor in this."

The reminder that she would be able to see her grandmother appeased Marianne somewhat and she showed a more contented face.

The half-dozen men who had accompanied the Silverthorns upon their expedition had tramped away as soon as the captured party was safe indoors. "Now, Miss Marianne," said Mr. Silverthorn, "it's only fair that you should pay us as long a visit as Kate paid you. You needn't be afraid that our friends that have just gone out are going to stand guard over you. They have gone for good, and you are as free as air. It was all a joke about your being a prisoner. Kate tells me that you were all very good to her and Jack, and we have no scores to settle, except that you carried Jack off and gave him a bad ankle."

"We didn't know it was Jack. I did so want to get my father home again, and it seemed the only way," she said wistfully.

Mr. Silverthorn noticed her embarrassment. "Well, well, we won't go into whys and wherefores now. You girls can have a good time, and the boys can help you."

"I'll take you over to your grandmother's the first thing to-morrow morning," said Jack.

"Royal can take me," she returned ungraciously.

Kate gave a little shiver. There was not unalloyed bliss in getting home again. She had forgotten that Royal now would find no obstacle to his daily visits to his grandmother's.

But here Royal spoke up. "We'll all go. Wouldn't you like the ride, Miss Kate?"

"Yes," she returned, brightening. If Royal were willing that she should be present at this first meeting, it could not be so important an occasion to him as one might suppose.

The new condition of affairs did not appear very distasteful to any concerned. The sisters were rejoiced to be together again; Royal did not seem to be distressed at being an inmate of his friend's home; Jack was pleased for more reasons than one, and his father beamed genially upon them all. Even Major Silverthorn unbent somewhat, and it was quite a jolly company that sat around the supper table; and when the next day Mr. Silverthorn brought word that they had obtained an indorsement of their disposal of Fred Lyle's case, it did not seem that Mr. Lyle was very much perturbed by the news that he would be compelled to stay where he was. Indeed, the whole thing seemed more like a frolic than anything else, and so the Silverthorns treated it, making many sly allusions to the manner in which they had been compelled to act in order to get their friends to visit them.

The girls enjoyed the situation, as what girls would not. They chattered and laughed and had their confidences in the same fashion as has existed and will exist as long as there are girls.

The surprise they gave Madame Desvouges was such as might be expected. Marianne and Kate, each with her attendant cavalier, rode up the morning after the capture, startling Victorine from her corner and the grandmother from her buttery. "Mon Dieu de la France! What is that, Victorine?" called the old lady. "Some foraging party, I think. At this rate we shall soon have nothing left. Where is Victor?" But Victor had already seen the riders come up and was hurrying toward them. He had caught sight of a little figure that gladdened his heart, and he could not hasten fast enough.

[Illustration: "_Each with her attendant cavalier, rode up the morning after the capture._"]

"That is no foraging party," declared Victorine. "Those are women's voices. A visit from some of the neighbors, no doubt." And then the door was flung open, and in ran Marianne crying: "Where is everybody? Grand'mère! Victorine!"

"Nomme de Dieu!" cried Madame Desvouges. "It is my granddaughter. What surprise is this?"

Marianne jumped up and down, hugged her grandmother, flew to Victorine, then back to her grandmother. "Are you not amazed?" she asked. "We did not know we were coming; we thought ourselves prisoners. It is all very droll, as you will think when you hear the story. Let me present my friends. Mr. Jack Silverthorn you have met, I think, and his sister is here, too. So is Royal." Kate was standing back a little, looking with all her eyes at the fair face of Victorine.

"And where is Royal?" asked the old lady. "Does he not intend to embrace his grandmother?" She stood on tiptoe to kiss the young man on each cheek, and then turned to Victorine. "Where are you, my daughter? Come and see this naughty boy." Kate gave a little gasp as Royal bent to kiss Victorine's proffered cheek. He passed his hand over her beautiful hair. "You are as like an angel as ever, Victorine," he said in a low voice. And into the lovely eyes came a look of tender joy. "And you, Royal, are as like to a big naughty boy as ever."

"No angel about me," he laughed. "No, I am very human." They spoke in French, which Kate only half understood, but she needed no interpretation of Victorine's happy smile.

"And Victor! Mercy, Victor," cried Marianne, as the young man entered, "you look scared to death! Am I, then, so frightful?" She ran to him and then danced away again, making shocking faces at him, and laughing and shaking her head as he attempted to come near her. "You are not allowed to kiss the prisoners without permission from the authorities," she cried.

Victor turned to Royal. "What does she mean?"

"Come, come, Marianne," said her brother, "keep still and let us tell them the story. You fly about like a feu follet. Sit down and let us tell them the tale."

"And I will be the story-teller," Marianne announced. "No, no, I shall let no one else tell it. I mean that grandmamma shall hear it from me, for I know just what she will like best to know." And she proceeded with her recital, interrupted by many exclamations, accompanied by lifting of hands and shruggings of shoulders. "And so," concluded Marianne, "we are all here, and how long we stay depends upon how soon we can get away."

"A wise speech, surely," laughed grand'mère. "But must you be always at the house of your captors? Is not your proper place with your grandmother?"

Marianne stole a mischievous glance at Kate, and said solemnly, "But you see, grand'mère, you let one prisoner get away."

"Mon Dieu!" cried Madame. "I let him get away! It was your own wicked contriving, ungrateful one. Was it not well enough as it was, with the entire family safe under my roof?"

"Yes, it was as it should be for all of us but my father, and he did not know what might be his lot. He did not know what a terrible fate might be his, for you know all these wicked Britishers treat their prisoners with great disrespect and rudeness, even if they are not absolutely cruel."

"I protest," cried Jack, growing very red. But Kate laughed, and said: "You see, Madame, we have a very difficult prisoner to deal with, and we should not allow her out of our sight, otherwise she should be handed over to her relatives. We promise you, however, that when she gets to be more than we can manage, that we shall send her to you; and in any case, she shall see you often."

"And you will come to see me," said Marianne, nodding to Victorine, "you and Victor."

"Yes, please come," Kate urged earnestly. She went up to Victorine and held out her two hands. "I want you to come and see us. We have not been very long in the neighborhood, and we know few of the people."

Victorine looked at her wistfully. This bright sunny girl, the very embodiment of health and strength and fine proportion, did she really want her friendship? "Please say you will come," Kate begged, with her own sweet smile. "Your brother will bring you, I am sure."

"I do not often leave maman," Victorine pleaded as an excuse.

"She will come, too. Oh, yes, she will. We will make an occasion. We will have a birthday party, and I know you will not refuse to come." She begged so earnestly that Madame herself, when asked, gave a promise that satisfied Kate, and they all trooped out, leaving the little grandmother well pleased.

But that night, long after all others were asleep, Kate lay broad awake, her thoughts intent upon the pathetic, beautiful face of Victorine La Rue, and she whispered: "Never, never! I will never stand between them. It would be a wickedness for which I could never forgive myself. We must find a way to make her happy; hers is the first claim. Royal must not stay here." And in her little room under the sloping roof, Victorine was on her knees, murmuring broken prayers, the tears streaming from her eyes. "Make me patient, dear Lord. Not my happiness, but his. Mother Mary, pity me, help me!"

The next day Kate linked her arm in Jack's, and drew him down the path which led from the house. "I want to talk to you, Jack," she said. "I want you to help me to get Royal away. He ought to go to his grandmother's, where he is needed."

"Why--why," Jack stammered. Then he was silent for a space. "I see, Kate," he said, after a while. "I think I understand. Do you think it is really as you were told?"

"It ought to be so."

"The girl has a lovely face, but I don't think Royal cares in that way."

"She does, and that is enough. Oh, Jack, I have strength and youth and everything. She is one of God's unfortunates, and shall it be my place to snatch this happiness from her, when she has been brought up to think it will be hers?"

"Kate, you are a good girl."

"No, no. You don't know anything about it. I could never be happy if I did one small thing to add to her burden. If--if after I have done all I can, and then it does not turn out as it should, Jack,--don't you see that I shall then have nothing to reproach myself for?"

"I see; and for my part, I'll do my best to help you, Kate. It is rather a delicate situation, but I think we can let Royal understand that it is from no lack of hospitality on our part."

"Then you will undertake it."

"Yes--Kate."

"Yes."

"Marianne--do you think she likes her cousin? And I say, I've had hard thoughts, but I'd be ashamed to do less than you. I--perhaps I ought not to stand in the way."

"But that is different," Kate interrupted eagerly. "He is on equal ground with you. One is as strong and well as the other. If anything," she laughed, "he has the advantage in looks. There's no need for your Quixoticism there, Jack. Besides--" she hesitated, "you have no reason to think yourself favored, or that you could stand in any one's way."

"That's so," returned Jack, so dejectedly that Kate hastened to say: "But that is no reason why you should not be some day. I am sure Marianne does not care for her cousin or any one else in a romantic way."

"You think not?" doubtfully.

"No, I don't. I have been watching her. I think she has a genuine affection for Victor La Rue, but it is not like being in love."

"I never thought of him. By George! I have no doubt but that is what her grandmother would like. He's a good fellow, but since I had my ideas set upon the other fellow, I can't quite accept a possible rivalry with the other one."

"Oh, I am not sure at all that she likes him best; but at all events, you have no reason to think that Marianne would ever listen to you."

"No," said Jack, disconsolately. "I suppose it is folly to hug such a delusion, when she would never listen to any one who was not on the American side."

"Then I don't see that you need worry yourself to make any sacrifices in another man's behalf. Let Fate decide. With me it is different. Come, we will go back to the house. I'll trust you to help me out, and I'll do the same for you, if occasion requires." With which compact, the conversation ended.