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_ My grandfather's defection from St. Anne's called forth a deal of comment
in Annapolis. His Excellency came to remonstrate, but to no avail, and
Mr. Carvel denounced the rector in such terms that the Governor was glad
to turn the subject. My Uncle Grafton acted with such quickness and
force as would have served to lull the sharpest suspicions. He forbid
the rector his house, attended the curate's service, and took Philip
from his care. It was decided that both my cousin and I were to go to
King's College after Christmas. Grafton's conduct greatly pleased my
grandfather. "He has behaved very loyally in this matter, Richard." he
said to me. "I grow to reproach myself more every day for the injustice
I once did him. He is heaping coals of fire upon my old head. But,
faith! I cannot stomach your Aunt Caroline. You do not seem to like
your uncle, lad."
I answered that I did not.
"It was ever the Carvel way not to forget," he went on. "Nevertheless,
Grafton hath your welfare at heart, I think. His affection for you as
his brother's son is great."
O that I had spoken the words that burned my tongue!
Christmas fell upon Monday of that year, 1769. There was to be a ball at
Upper Marlboro on the Friday before, to which many of us were invited.
Though the morning came in with a blinding snowstorm from the north, the
first of that winter, about ten of the clock we set out from Annapolis an
exceeding merry party, the ladies in four coaches-and-six, the gentlemen
and their servants riding at the wheels. We laughed and joked despite
the storm, and exchanged signals with the fair ones behind the glasses.
But we had scarce got two miles beyond the town gate when a messenger
overtook us with a note for Mr. Carvel, writ upon an odd slip of paper,
and with great apparent hurry:
HONOURED SIR,
"I have but just come to Annapolis from New York, with Instructions to
put into your Hands, & no Others, a Message of the greatest Import.
Hearing you are but now set out for Upper Marlboro I beg of you to return
for half an Hour to the Coffee House. By so doing you will be of service
to a Friend, and confer a Favour upon y'r most ob'd't Humble Servant,
"SILAS RIDGEWAY."
Our cavalcade had halted while I read, the ladies letting down the
glasses and leaning out in their concern lest some trouble had befallen
me or my grandfather. I answered them and bade them ride on, vowing that
I would overtake the coaches before they reached the Patuxent. Then I
turned Cynthia's head for town, with Hugo at my heels.
Patty, leaning from the window of the last coach, called out to me as I
passed. I waved my hand in return, and did not remember until long after
the anxiety in her eyes.
As I rode, and I rode hard, I pondered over the words of this letter. I
knew not this Mr. Ridgeway from the Lord Mayor of London; but I came to
the conclusion before I had reprised the gate that his message was from
Captain Daniel. And I greatly feared that some evil had befallen my good
friend. So I came to the Coffee House, and throwing my bridle to Hugo, I
ran in.
I found Mr. Ridgeway neither in the long room nor in the billiard room
nor the bar. Mr. Claude told me that indeed a man had arrived that
morning from the North, a spare person with a hooked nose and scant hair,
in a brown greatcoat with a torn cape. He had gone forth afoot half an
hour since. His messenger, a negro lad whose face I knew, was in the
stables with Hugo. He had never seen the stranger till he met him that
morning in State House Circle inquiring for Mr. Carvel, and had been
given a shilling to gallop after me. Impatient as I was to be gone, I
sat me down in the coffee room, thinking every minute the man must
return, and strongly apprehensive that Captain Daniel must be in some
grave predicament. That the favour he asked was of such a nature as I,
and not my grandfather, could best fulfil.
At length, about a quarter after noon, my man comes in with Mr. Claude
close behind him. I liked his looks less than his description, and the
moment I clapped eyes on him I knew that Captain Daniel had never chose
such a messenger.
"This is Mr. Richard Carvel," said Mr. Claude.
The fellow made me a low bow, which I scarcely returned.
"I am sure, 'sir," he began in a whining voice, "that I crave your
forbearance for this prodigious, stupid mistake I have made."
"Mistake!" I exclaimed hotly; "you mean to say, sir, that you have
brought me back for nothing?"
The man's eye shifted, and he made me another bow.
"I scarce know what to say, Mr. Carvel," he answered with much humility;
"to speak truth, 'twas zeal to my employers, and methought to you, that
caused you to retrace your steps in this pestiferous storm. I travel,"
he proceeded with some importance, "I travel for Messrs. Rinnell and
Runn, Barristers of the town of New York, and carry letters to men of
mark all over these middle and southern colonies. And my instructions,
sir, were to come to Annapolis with all reasonable speed with this
double-sealed enclosure for Mr. Carvel: and to deliver it to him, and him
only, the very moment I arrived. As I came through your town I made
inquiries, and was told by a black fellow in the Circle that Mr. Carvel
was but just left for Upper Marlboro with a cavalcade of four coaches-
and-six and some dozen gentlemen with their servants. I am sure my
mistake was pardonable, Mr. Carvel," he concluded with a smirk; "this
gentleman was plainly of the first quality, as was he to whom I was
directed. And as he was about to leave town for I knew not how long, I
hope I was in the right in bidding the black ride after him, for I give
you my word the business was most pressing for him. I crave your
forgiveness, and the pleasure of drinking your honour's health."
I barely heard the fellow through, and was turning on my heel in disgust,
when it struck me to ask him what Mr. Carvel he sought, for I feared lest
my grandfather had got into some lawsuit.
"And it please your honour, Mr. Grafton Carvel," said he; "your uncle, I
understand. Unfortunately he has gone to his estate in Kent County,
whither I must now follow him."
I bade Mr. Claude summon my servant, not stopping to question the man
further, such was my resentment against him. And in ten minutes we were
out of the town again, galloping between the nearly filled tracks of the
coaches, now three hours ahead of us. The storm was increasing, and the
wind cutting, but I dug into Cynthia so that poor Hugo was put to it to
hold the pace, and, tho' he had a pint of rum in him, was near perished
with the cold. As my anger cooled somewhat I began to wonder how Mr.
Silas Ridgeway, whoever he was, could have been such a simpleton as his
story made him out. Indeed, he looked more the rogue than the ass; nor
could I conceive how reliable barristers could hire such a one. I wished
heartily that I had exhausted him further, and a suspicion crossed my
brain that he might have come to Mr. Allen, who had persuaded him to
deliver a letter to Grafton intended for me. Some foreboding beset me,
and I was once close to a full mind for going back, and slacked Cynthia's
pace to a trot. But the thought of the pleasures at Upper Marlboro' and
the hope of overtaking the party at Mr. Dorsey's place, over the
Patuxent, where they looked to dine, decided me in pushing on. And thus
we came to South River, with the snow so thick that we could scarce see
ten yards in front of us.
Beyond, the road winds up the hill'around the end of Mr. Wiley's
plantation and plunges shortly into the woods, gray and cold indeed to-
day. At their skirt a trail branches off which leads to Mr. Whey's
warehouses, on the water's edge a mile or so below. And I marked that
this path was freshly trodden. I recall a small shock of surprise at
this, for the way was used only in the early autumn to connect with some
fields beyond the hill. And then I heard a sharp cry from Hugo and
pulled Cynthia short. He was some ten paces behind me.
"Marse Dick!" he shouted, the whites of his eyes rolled up. "We'se gwine
to be robbed, Marse Dick." And he pointed to the footprints in the snow;
"somefin done tole Hugo not come to-day."
"Nonsense!" I cried; "Mr. Wiley is making his lazy beggars cut wood
against Christmas."
When in this temper the poor fellow had more fear of me than of aught
else, and he closed up to my horse's flank, glancing apprehensively to
the right and left, his teeth rattling. We went at a brisk trot. We
know not, indeed, how to account for many things in this world, for with.
each beat of Cynthia's feet I found myself repeating the words South
River and Marlboro, and seeking in my mind a connection to something gone
before. Then, like a sudden gust of wind, comes to me that strange talk
between Grafton and the rector, overheard by old Harvey in the stables at
Carvel Hall. And Cynthia's ears were pointing forward.
With a quick impulse I loosed the lower frogs of my coat, for my sword
was buckled beneath, and was reaching for one of the brace of pistols in
my saddle-bags. I had but released them when Hugo cried out: "Gawd,
Marse Dick, run for yo' life!" and I caught a glimpse of him flying down
the road. As I turned a shot rang out, Cynthia reared high with a rough
brute of a fellow clinging to her bridle. I sent my charge full into his
chest, and as he tumbled in the snow I dug my spurs to the rowels.
What happened then is still a blurred picture in my brain. I know that
Cynthia was shot from under me before she had taken her leap, and we fell
heavily together. And I was scarcely up again and my sword drawn, when
the villains were pressing me from all sides. I remember spitting but
one, and then I heard a great seafaring oath, the first word out of their
mouths, and I was felled from behind with a mighty blow. _
Read next: VOLUME 3: CHAPTER XVIII. The Black Moll
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