WYNADOTTÉ (Unabridged). Джеймс Фенимор Купер
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“We saw him twice, going and returning, and he was successful. The last time, he was detained by a snow-storm, and staid with us some days—so long, indeed, that he remained, and accompanied us out, when we went below. We saw much of him, too, last winter, in town.”
“Maud, you wrote me nothing of all this! Are visiters of this sort so very common that you do not speak of them in your letters?”
“Did I not?—Beulah will scarce pardon me for that. She thinks Mr. Evert Beekman more worthy of a place in a letter, than I do, perhaps.”
“I think him a very respectable and sensible young man,” answered Beulah quietly though there was a deeper tint on her cheek than common, which it was too dark to see. “I am not certain, however, he need fill much space in the letters of either of your sisters.’
“Well, this is something gleaned!” said the major, laughing—“and now, Beulah, if you will only let out a secret of the same sort about Maud, I shall be au fait of all the family mysteries.”
“All!” repeated Maud, quickly—“would there be nothing to tell of a certain major Willoughby, brother of mine?”
“Not a syllable. I am as heart-whole as a sound oak, and hope to remain so. At all events, all I love is in this house. To tell you the truth, girls, these are not times for a soldier to think of anything but his duty. The quarrel is getting to be serious between the mother country and her colonies.”
“Not so serious, brother,” observed Beulah, earnestly, “as to amount to that. Evert Beekman thinks there will be trouble, but he does not appear to fancy it will go as far as very serious violence.”
“Evert Beekman!—most of that family are loyal, I believe; how is it with this Evert?”
“I dare say, you would call him a rebel,” answered Maud, laughing, for now Beulah chose to be silent, leaving her sister to explain, “He is not fiery; but he calls himself an American, with emphasis; and that is saying a good deal, when it means he is not an Englishman. Pray what do you call yourself, Bob?”
“I!—Certainly an American in one sense, but an Englishman in another. An American, as my father was a Cumberland-man, and an Englishman as a subject, and as connected with the empire.”
“As St. Paul was a Roman. Heigho!—Well, I fear I have but one character—or, if I have two, they are an American, and a New York girl. Did I dress in scarlet, as you do, I might feel English too, possibly.”
“This is making a trifling misunderstanding too serious,” observed Beulah. “Nothing can come of all the big words that have been used, than more big words. I know that is Evert Beekman’s opinion.”
“I hope you may prove a true prophet,” answered the major, once more buried in thought. “This place does seem to be fearfully retired for a family like ours. I hope my father may be persuaded to pass more of his time in New York. Does he ever speak on the subject, girls, or appear to have any uneasiness?”
“Uneasiness about what? The place is health itself: all sorts of fevers, and agues, and those things being quite unknown. Mamma says the toothache, even, cannot be found in this healthful spot.”
“That is lucky—and, yet, I wish captain Willoughby—Sir Hugh Willoughby could be induced to live more in New York. Girls of your time of life, ought to be in the way of seeing the world, too.”
“In other words, of seeing admirers, major Bob,” said Maud, laughing, and bending forward to steal a glance in her brother’s face. “Good night. Sir Hugh wishes us to send you into his library when we can spare you, and my lady has sent us a hint that it is ten o’clock, at which hour it is usual for sober people to retire.”
The major kissed both sisters with warm affection—Beulah fancied with a sobered tenderness, and Maud thought kindly—and then they retired to join their mother, while he went to seek his father.
The captain was smoking in the library, as a room of all-head-work was called, in company with the chaplain. The practice of using tobacco in this form, had grown to be so strong in both of these old inmates of garrisons, that they usually passed an hour, in the recreation, before they went to bed. Nor shall we mislead the reader with any notions of fine-flavoured Havana segars; pipes, with Virginia cut, being the materials employed in the indulgence. A little excellent Cogniac and water, in which however the spring was not as much neglected, as in the orgies related in the previous chapter, moistened their lips, from time to time, giving a certain zest and comfort to their enjoyments. Just as the door opened to admit the major, he was the subject of discourse, the proud parent and the partial friend finding almost an equal gratification in discussing his fine, manly appearance, good qualities, and future hopes. His presence was untimely, then, in one sense; though he was welcome, and, indeed, expected. The captain pushed a chair to his son, and invited him to take a seat near the table, which held a spare pipe or two, a box of tobacco, a decanter of excellent brandy, a pitcher of pure water, all pleasant companions to the elderly gentlemen, then in possession.
“I suppose you are too much of a maccaroni, Bob, to smoke,” observed the smiling father. “I detested a pipe at your time of life; or may say, I was afraid of it; the only smoke that was in fashion among our scarlet coats being the smoke of gunpowder. Well, how comes on Gage, and your neighbours the Yankees?”
“Why, sir,” answered the major, looking behind him, to make sure that the door was shut—“Why, sir, to own the truth, my visit, here, just at this moment, is connected with the present state of that quarrel.”
Both the captain and the chaplain drew the pipes from their mouths, holding them suspended in surprise and attention.
“The deuce it is!” exclaimed the former. “I thought I owed this unexpected pleasure to your affectionate desire to let me know I had inherited the empty honours of a baronetcy!”
“That was one motive, sir, but the least. I beg you to remember the awkwardness of my position, as a king’s officer, in the midst of enemies.”
“The devil! I say, parson, this exceeds heresy and schism! Do you call lodging in your father’s house, major Willoughby, being in the midst of enemies? This is rebellion against nature, and is worse than rebellion against the king.”
“My dear father, no one feels more secure with you, than I do; or, even, with Mr. Woods, here. But, there are others besides you two, in this part of the world, and your very settlement may not be safe a week longer; probably would not be, if my presence in it were known.”
Both the listeners, now, fairly laid down their pipes, and the smoke began gradually to dissipate, as it might have been rising from a field of battle. One looked at the other, in wonder, and, then, both looked at the major, in curiosity.
“What is the meaning of all this, my son?” asked the captain, gravely. “Has anything new occurred to complicate the old causes of quarrel?”
“Blood has, at length, been drawn, sir; open rebellion has commenced!”
“This is a serious matter, indeed, if it be really so. But do you not exaggerate the consequences of some fresh indiscretion of the soldiery, in firing on the people? Remember, in the other affair, even the colonial authorities justified the officers.”
“This is a very different matter, sir. Blood has not been drawn in a riot, but in a battle.”
“Battle! You amaze me, sir! That is indeed a serious matter, and may lead to most serious consequences!”
“The Lord preserve us from evil times,” ejaculated the chaplain, “and lead us, poor, dependent creatures that we are, into the paths of peace and quietness! Without his grace, we are the blind leading the blind.”
“Do you mean, major Willoughby, that armed and disciplined bodies have met in actual conflict?”
“Perhaps not literally so, my dear father;