CHAPTER IX

_A Little Fun_

The year 1812 was closing with but small encouragement to the land forces of the Americans. General Van Rensselaer having resigned, his command was turned over to the bombastic Smyth, who was a veritable windbag. His high-sounding proclamations, however, had some effect, for they brought volunteers flocking to the front. But these found their leader a man of words and not of deeds, for, after twice bringing them to the very brink of an invasion into Canada, he recalled them, and thereby brought down such jeers and threats upon his devoted head that he at last retired to his home in Virginia.

Mr. Reyburn, like most of his comrades, chafed and fumed under all these disappointments. Since his return he had been raised to the rank of captain, and was now more away from home than ever. He and his son never met, for Royal made a point of getting out of the way when he saw his father coming. The young man felt somewhat embarrassed at the position he was in as paroled prisoner in his father's house, and he also felt somewhat aggrieved that his father had not acknowledged his efforts in saving him from a savage enemy. On the other hand, Captain Reyburn saw that Royal made a point of keeping out of his way, and he made no advances.

"They are both entirely too proud," said Marianne to her mother. "I think Royal might give in, because he is the younger, and he knows father appreciates what he did for him; because I told Royal what father said."

"It will all come right in time," her mother told her, "in the meantime let us be thankful that we have them both so near. Your father complains at the inaction, but I am thankful enough that it is so quiet. Here comes the dear man now. Let us welcome him with cheerful faces."

"Such management!" said Captain Reyburn, throwing off his cap, and sitting down before the fire. "As if it were not enough to have incompetent leaders, but some idiot must circulate the report among the militia, that if they cross into Canada for military purposes, they become liable for five years' service, becoming regulars in so doing. Such talk! yet there is nothing but desertion and rioting to be heard of. The only fighting the men seem to be able to do is that among themselves, and their leaders are not any better. By George! I wish I were back in Kentucky; there they are putting out real stuff, true soldiers with William Henry Harrison at their head. I wish I were with them. Ordered into winter quarters, when our force, if it had any grit to back it, could knock out the British over on the other side in no time! They don't begin to have the number of troops we have. Imagine! brought to the very brink of an invasion, and then ordered back, the regulars to winter quarters and the volunteers to their homes!"

Marianne brought her two hands smartly together. "Oh, then you are at home for good! How glad I am! We knew that the expedition was given up, but we heard there had been some fighting, and we were afraid that there was more to come."

"I wish to Heaven there were more to expect. Yes, I am at home for a time. It's a pretty poor outlook for our success, as things are now."

"We've given 'em some good licks on the sea," said Asa Peaslee, who had come in and was listening to Captain Reyburn's report. "I've half a mind to jine the marines myself. I ain't much of a climber, an' I dunno 's I wouldn't tumble kerflunk on deck, if I was to try to shinny up them ropes, but I like to be on the winnin' side; and, seein' as there ain't much glory to be had soldierin' around these parts, I dunno's I won't light out and go where it's more excitin'. You're goin' to be at home now, cap'n, and my days of usefulness so far's helpin' you out is concerned, is most over."

"I thought you meant to fight only in self-defence, Asa," put in Marianne.

"That's what I said; but I guess it'll be self-defence if I git a sight of the enemy's weapons," he replied dryly. "S'long as they ain't no Injun fightin', I kin stand it, but I would like to save my scalp, seein' as I've kep' a-holt of it all these years. Injuns ain't sea-farin' folks, and when a fellow hears of victories like the _Constitution_ over the _Gareer_, and the _Wasp_ takin' the _Frolic_, seems as if he'd like to be there. I guess I'll be hitchin' along in a day or two, and see what gol-durned foolishness I'll be gittin' into next. I don't seem to be able to keep from meddlin' somewheres. Used to be always pokin' my fingers into the pies and cakes when I was a youngster, and gittin' licked for it, so I guess it's inborn original sin's the matter with me now that makes me just ache to be gittin' into trouble."

True to his word, he started away one morning soon after, saying, at parting: "You ain't rid of me for good, I guess. If I don't git blowed up, or scalped, or hacked to pieces, like as not I'll be coming this way ag'in, when there's anything goin' on. I'm the curiosest fellow you ever did see; must be pokin' my nose into other folk's consarns, and never can mind my own business."

Marianne watched him depart, having first loaded him down with provisions. "I like the old fellow," she told Kate. "I suppose he may be shrewd in driving a bargain, and doesn't always tell the exact truth about his wares, but he is so good-hearted and brave, though he pretends he is neither."

"He poses for an innocent," said Kate, "but he is really pretty smart, and knows a heap more than he tells. Here come our brothers. Shall we go and meet them?"

"You may, if you choose," replied Marianne, "but I've something better to do."

Kate caught her around the waist, and laughing said: "You don't escape this time. You always make that excuse. Do you really dislike poor Jack so much?"

"You know I do," replied Marianne, struggling to get away.

"Just because he fought on the other side?"

"No, not that altogether, but you know he was very rude to me when he first saw me, that time in the woods."

"When he pulled you out of the bog? Did you want to stay there?"

"Stop teasing, Kate. You know it wasn't that, but he made fun of me."

"He thought you a small child. He doesn't make fun of you now. I am sure he is as polite as possible."

"Yes, but--it is really because he is on the enemy's side."

"So is your brother, but you don't dislike him."

"That is a very different thing. One ought not to hate her own brother; and besides, Royal is fond of me."

"Then if Jack were fond of you, you'd be fond of him."

"How you do make one choose words. Let me go, Kate. I don't like him, so there; I am sorry he is your brother, for you I love." She suddenly broke away, then returned to throw her arms around Kate, and kiss her over and over again, after which she ran into the house, without so much as a look at the two coming up the walk.

Jack still limped a little, but he leaned on Royal's arm, and the two were talking animatedly. "Where has Marianne run to?" Royal asked. "We wanted to tell her the latest news."

"And what is that?" Kate asked. "Am I not to hear it?"

"It is reported that there is going to be trouble with the Indians on the western frontier."

"O dear!" Kate looked distressed. "That is the worst thing to dread. I wish I could see the right of this war, anyhow."

Jack shook his head. "You'd better not let Captain Reyburn or Marianne hear you say that. They think there is righteous cause enough."

"Do you?" Kate asked quickly.

"Looking at it from their side, I think they have, maybe, though I wouldn't confess it to any one else. I don't wonder that they got mad at the impressment of their seamen; still, I've no doubt England would have made that all right, and I think the States were too hasty in the matter."

"Since I have been here," Kate returned, "I can see how they love liberty beyond anything else, and that they believe the mother country considers the United States only as a naughty child who has been too impertinent, and that she wants them still to feel her power. I don't much wonder that they resent that, and that they want to show her that they can stand alone after their splendid fight for freedom in the Revolution."

Jack laughed. "What would grandfather say to such a speech?"

"He would rage and rant, and call upon King George to witness that he had always been loyal, no matter what views his descendants might hold. Poor grandfather, I'm afraid he'll think we are entire renegades when we go back."

"And when will that be?"

"As soon as we can."

"That's a very indefinite time. What's the use of going at all, when I've given my word not to fight for so many months? Here's Royal, declaring that he isn't going to stay at home because his father is back again. I might get into just such a state of mind concerning grandfather if I went back; and if one cannot be at home, he might as well be in one place as another. I propose to stay."

"Why don't you say something, Royal?" Kate asked. "Shall we go or stay?"

"Stay," Royal answered. "The war can't last very long at this rate. You see how utterly the States have failed in carrying the war into Canada, and it will not be long before there will be peace."

"And are you really not going to live at home while your father is here?"

"I am not. I am going to stay at Will Fenton's."

Kate looked at him wistfully. She wanted to tell him that she did not think he was doing the best thing, but she hesitated. "You don't have to meet your father, even if you stay at home," she said at last, "and it would please your mother to have you stay."

Royal began to make fantastic figures in the path with the stick he carried. "It's awkward enough as it is," he replied. "It has come to such a pass now that my father just nods to me when we meet, and never has a word to say if I am by. I don't want to spoil it for the rest, and I think I'd better keep away and only come home when he is not here."

Kate looked thoughtfully out into the winter sunlight, but made no comment. "To return to the subject of our staying," she said, after a pause. "I think I ought to go back, even if Jack is determined to stay. I ought not to desert Sue any longer."

But when Marianne was told this, she declared against it. "Just as winter is coming on, and there will be sleigh-rides and skating, and all sorts of frolics, it would be too bad to leave and go over to that stupid place where you will not have half the fun you would here. You mustn't think of it." And forthwith she began to contrive a series of amusement to keep her friend. She consulted Royal on the subject, and found him quite ready to further her schemes. "We will show them, Royal," she said, with a toss of her head, "we will show them that, backwoodsmen though our father and grandfather were, we know how to dance and entertain. The elegance of Monsieur Silverthorn, vieux, the fine manners he pretends to have bequeathed to his grandson, I don't find them after being with you and Victor, who can bow and dance with the grace of a marquis. Bah! do you suppose that old withered Tory over there can hold a candle to our grandfather Desvouges, of whom grand'mère tells us? Such a gallant, he; so beautiful to behold in his satins and velvets! Ah me! I wish we had satins and velvets to wear. In homespun we will attire ourselves; yet we will not forget the graces of our ancestors, even if some of our guests do despise us."

"All this, I suppose, is a tirade against Jack Silverthorn," said Royal, coolly. "Why do you think he despises you? I am sure he has never given you reason to think so, and it was but yesterday that Kate said she had never seen a girl more graceful than you."

"Ah, Kate! yes, of course she would say that. She always is sweet and lovely. I was not thinking of her. I wish to show Mr. Silverthorn that I do not lack for partners in a dance, and do not have to go seeking them among refugee Tories."

"Chut! Chut! Marianne, your tongue runs away with you at times. Yet I should like the dance well enough. I suppose Kate and Jack would like it, too, though perhaps we had better ask them."

"Nonsense, of course they will like it, and I do not want them to know till it is all arranged. We will have it in the barn. A big, big place, we want. It shall be a real frolic. We will have no lack of guests, I assure you, for there are the military to draw upon. We will say it is in Kate's honor, and we will have Long Joe to play for us, if we can get him. I wish Victor were here, he dances so well; it is the one thing that he does better than any one I know. Good old Victor, he never lets me lack for a partner."

When all the arrangements were made for the dance, Kate and Jack were told, and cheerfully accepted the arrangement; though Jack may have had a passing thought that some other form of entertainment would be better suited to a man with a weak ankle. Yet he offered his help with a good grace.

At the suggestion of Captain Reyburn the affair resolved itself into a husking-bee, followed by a dance. "In that way," said he, "I'll get my work done, and you'll have your fun. Half the boys around are ready for an invitation, and I think you'll have some difficulty in providing partners for them all."

"I know a way out of that difficulty," said Marianne, patriotically. "We will not invite any one of the men who have not been or who are not in our army."

"Ho! Ho!" laughed her father. "That is a good way out of it. I've no doubt we shall find the soldier lads eager enough for sport of that kind."

"I'll leave you to choose which ones ought to be invited," said Marianne, "and I think we can find girls enough, if we depend upon Black Rock as well as Lewiston. My only anxiety is whether we can supply sufficient refreshments."

"Trust your mother for that," replied her father. "Between my wife and Jerusha, I reckon no one will go away hungry." And, indeed, for days Mrs. Reyburn was in her element. She liked nothing better than to provide a feast, and to show her skill in using her mother's famous recipes. So there were great pasties of game, huge roasts of venison, doughnuts rolled in maple sugar, pumpkin cake, and pies of many kinds in turnover shape.

"My!" exclaimed Kate, when the last pie came from the oven. "I never saw such a pile of goodies. That doesn't look much like war time, does it?"

"They will eat it all," Mrs. Reyburn told her. "Every time my husband comes in he tells me of some new guest he has invited, and we shall soon have room for not another one."

Truly it was a goodly company which assembled on the evening selected. The boys from the regiments now in winter quarters, Virginians, Marylanders, Kentuckians, and New Yorkers, in motley uniforms; the girls from the villages and the surrounding country, in homespun, deerskin, or calico; a few Canadians, who had taken refuge on the American side of the river, and all eager for a frolic.

The huge piles of Indian corn lay ready for the huskers; the table groaned with its load of pasties, cakes, and pies; torches and pine-knot fires were ready to be lighted; and Marianne viewed it all with a pleased eye. "It will do," she said to Kate, "but it is neither the husking nor the supper that I am looking forward to; it is the dance. I long for the dance. Don't you, Kate?"

Kate hesitated, blushed, looked down. She could not bear to dampen Marianne's ardor, and all this time she had failed to tell her. "I--you see, I don't know much about it. Grandfather is such an old Puritan--and--he never liked to have us--and so we--that is--I have never learned." She looked helplessly at Marianne when she had stammered out this piece of information.

Marianne stared at her in surprise, then she laughed merrily, but in some embarrassment. "And I have given this frolic for you, and took it for granted that you danced. What a stupid I am! Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I didn't want to spoil your fun. I saw that the dance was what you liked the best. I can husk corn, you know, and I shall love to watch the dancers."

"You shall do more. Where is Royal? Where is your brother? Ah, that Victor were here to play the violin for us! He plays with much feeling, that Victor." She darted out of the log building and came back with her brother and Jack. "I am the most stupid!" she exclaimed. "I am a selfish one, to be sure. I prepare an entertainment for my friends, and behold, one does not dance, and the other cannot because of his sprained ankle. Did you ever know such a stupid, Royal? But come, in the little time that is before us we must teach Kate the figures. Come, Mr. Jack, you must hobble through it somehow."

She extended her hand, and Jack led her out upon the rough floor. "We'll have no music," he said.

Marianne gave him a little side glance, and drew from her pocket a queer little instrument, upon which she began to play a quaint tune, piping out the few notes with a sweet shrillness while she kept time with her foot. Jack looked at her in wonder. "How unlike any other girl you are," he said; "you are full of surprises. Where did you get that curious little pipe?"

"Victor made it for me," Marianne told him, exhibiting the little pipe with some pride.

"Has it a name? I never saw one like it before."

"No, it has no special name. You see it is neither a fife nor a horn nor a whistle, though Victor and I usually call it the little horn. I think he was very clever to make it. He taught me to play upon it while he played his violin. Come now; one, two, three. Advance, Royal."

Royal led Kate toward her, they swung corners, balanced, bowed to imaginary couples, represented by stalks of corn, and finally the dance stopped. Marianne gave a nod to Kate, saying: "You will do. Royal will see that you do not lack for partners who can guide you properly. As for you, Mr. Jack, I am afraid you have already been kept too long on your lame ankle."

"I suppose that this must be my last dance," said Jack, dejectedly. "One does not feel very graceful, I imagine, dancing with a lame man."

Marianne gave a little shrug of her shoulders and walked away, saying: "There are those who could make a more courteous speech, Mr. Jack, and who would say I am not ungraceful at any time; but, of course, an awkward little girl, as I am in your eyes, cannot be expected to show grace, except under very fortunate circumstances."

"What a dolt I am!" Jack hastened to explain. "I didn't mean that; you know I didn't. Why do you always try to twist my words into a wrong meaning? Are you never going to forgive me for that unlucky first meeting?"

"Oh, unlucky, of course, since otherwise I should, perhaps, never have met you at all."

Jack hobbled up to her and looked down into the blue eyes, which met his stonily. "I wish I knew whether you really hate me or whether you merely try to tease me when you say such things."

"You cannot think I would take the trouble to tease you," Marianne answered, moving away. "You know full well how I feel toward my country's enemies." Whereupon Jack heaved a sigh and looked so disconsolate that Kate fancied he was suffering, and solicitously came over to him, begging him to find a place where he could be seated comfortably.

"You shouldn't have tried the dance, Jack," she said.

"But I enjoyed it." His eyes were following Marianne, who was lighting up the torches, which flared out from the dingy walls of the log building.

"You look as if you were enjoying yourself now," Kate laughed. "I see, Jack, that little tease has been saying something sharp. Don't mind her; she doesn't mean half she says." And then the guests came trooping in, glad to get under cover from the cold.