The Little Red Foot

"Some among them have not yet glanced askance at you," remarked Lady Johnson, placid above her sewing.

"Do you mean those suckling babes in the orchard yonder? Oh, la! When the Major leaves, I shall choose the likeliest among 'em to amuse me. Not that I would cross Penelope," she added gaily, "or flout her. No. But these boys perplex her. They are too ardent, and she too kind."

"What!" I exclaimed, feeling my face turn hot.

"Why, it is true enough," remarked Lady Johnson. "Yonder child has no experience, and is too tender at heart to resent a gallantry over-bold. Which is why I keep my eye upon these youngsters that they make not a fool of a girl who is easily confused by flattery, and who remains silent when dusk and the fleeting moment offer opportunities to impudent young men, which they seldom fail to embrace."

"And seldom fail to embrace the lady, also," added Claudia, laughing. "You were different, Jack."

"I saw that ensign, Dudley, kiss her behind the lilacs," added Lady Johnson, "and the girl seemed dumb, and never even upbraided the little beast. Had she complained to me I should have made him certain observations, but could not while she herself remained mute. Because I do not choose to have anybody think I go about eavesdropping."

"Penelope Grant appears to find their company agreeable," said I, in a voice not like my own, but a dry and sullen voice such as I never before heard issue out o' my own mouth.

"Penelope likes men," observed Lady Johnson, sewing steadily upon her baby's garments of fine linen.

"Penelope is not too averse to a stolen kiss, I fear," said Claudia, smiling. "Lord! Nor is any pretty woman, if only she admit the truth! No! However, there is a certain shock in a kiss which silences maiden inexperience and sadly confuses the unaccustomed. Wait till the girl gains confidence to box some impertinent's ear!"

I knew not why, yet never, I think, had any news sounded in my ears so distastefully as the news I now had of this girl, I remembered Nick's comment, – "Like flies around a sap-pan." And it added nothing to my pleasure or content of mind to turn and gaze upon that disquieting scene in the orchard yonder.

For here, it seemed, was another Claudia in the making, – still unlearned in woman's wiles; not yet equipped for those subtle coquetries and polished cruelties which destroy, yet naturally and innocently an enchantress of men. And some day to be conscious of her power, and certain to employ it!

Flora came, wearing a blue and orange bandanna, and the great gold hoops in her ears glittering in the sun.

Each day, now, it appeared, Lady Johnson retired for an hour's repose whilst Claudia read to her; and that hour had arrived.

"You dine with us, of course," said Lady Johnson, going, and looking at me earnestly. Then there was a sudden flash of tears; but none fell.

"My dear, dear Jack," she murmured, as I laid my lips against both her hands… And so she went into the house, Claudia lingering, having shamelessly pressed my hand, and a devil laughing at me out of her two eyes.

"Is there news of Sir John to comfort us?" she whispered, making a caress of her voice as she knew so well how to do.

"And if I have any, I may not tell you, Claudia," said I.

"Oh, la! Aid and comfort to the enemy? Is it that, Jack? And if you but wink me news that Sir John is safe?"

"I may not even wink," said I, smiling forlornly.

"Aye? So! That's it, is it! A wink from you at me, and pouf! – a courtmartial! Bang! A squad of execution! Is that it, Jack?"

"I should deserve it."

"Lord! If men really got their deserts, procreation would cease, and the world, depopulated, revert to the forest beasts. Well, then – so Sir John is got away?"

"I did not say so."

"You wear upon your honest countenance all the news you contain, dear Jack," said she gaily. "It was always so; any woman may read you like a printed page – if she trouble to do it… And so! Sir John is safe at last! Well, thank God for that… You may kiss my cheek if you ask me."

She drew too near me, but I had no mind for more trouble than now possessed me, so let her pretty hand lie lightly on my arm, and endured the melting danger of her gaze.

She said, while the smile died on her lips, "I jest with you, Jack. But you are dear to me."

"Dear as any trophy," said I. "No woman ever willingly lets any victim entirely escape."

"You do not guess what you could do with me – if you would," she said.

"No. But I guess what you could do to me, again, if you had an opportunity."

"Jack!" she sighed, looking up at me.

But the gentle protest alarmed me. And she was too near me; and the fresh scent of her hair and skin were troubling me.

And, more than that, there persisted a dull soreness in my breast, – something that had hurt me unperceived – an unease which was not pain, yet, at times, seemed to start a faint, sick throbbing like a wound.

Perhaps I assumed that it came from some old memory of her unkindness; I do not remember now, only that I seemed to have no mind to stir up dying embers. And so, looked at her without any belief in my gaze.

There was a silence, then a bright flush stained her face, and she laughed, but as though unnerved, and drew her hand from my arm.

"If you think all the peril between us twain is yours alone, Jack Drogue," she said, "you are a very dolt. And I think you are one!"

And turned her back and walked swiftly into the house.

I took my rifle from where it stood against a veranda post, settled my war-belt, with its sheathed knife and hatchet, readjusted powder-horn and bullet pouch, and, picking up my cap of silver mole-skin, went out into the orchard.

Behind me padded my Saguenay in his new paint, his hooped scalps swinging from his cincture, and the old trade-rifle covered carefully by his blanket, except the battered muzzle which stuck out.

I walked leisurely; my heart was unsteady, my mind confused, my features, unless perhaps expressionless, were very likely grim.

I went straight to the group around the twisted apple-tree, where Penelope sat knitting, and politely made myself a part of that same group, giving courteous notice by my attitude and presence, that I, also, had a right to be there as well as they.

All were monstrous civil; some offered snuff; some a pipe and pouch; and a friendly captain man engaged me in conversation – gossip of Johnstown and the Valley – so that, without any awkwardness, the gay and general chatter around the girl suffered but a moment's pause.

The young officer who had writ verses, now read them aloud amid lively approbation and some sly jesting:

IN PRAISE"Flavilla's hair,Beyond compare,Like sunshine brightens all the earth!Old Sol, beware!She cheats you, there,And robs your rays of all their worth!"Impotent blaze!I shall not praiseYour brazen ways,Nor dare compareYour flaming gazeTo those sweet raysWhich play around Flavilla's hair."For lo, behold!No sunshine boldCan hope to gild or make more fairThe living gold,Where, fold on fold,In glory shines Flavilla's hair!"

There was a merry tumult of praise for the poet, and some rallied him, but he seemed complacent enough, and Penelope looked shyly at him over lagging needles, – a smile her acknowledgment and thanks.

"Sir," says a cornet of horse, in helmet and jack-boots – though I perceived none of his company about, and wondered where he came from, – "will you consent to entertain our merry Council with some account of the scout which, from your appearance, sir, I guess you have but recently accomplished."

To this stilted and somewhat pompous speech I inclined my head with civility, but replied that I did not yet feel at liberty to discuss any journey I may have accomplished until my commanding officer gave me permission. Which mild rebuke turned young Jack-boots red, and raised a titter.

An officer said: "The dry blood on your hunting shirt, sir, and the somewhat amazing appearance of your tame Indian, who squats yonder, devouring the back of your head with his eyes, must plead excuse for our natural curiosity. Also, we have not yet smelled powder, and it is plain that you have had your nostrils full."

I laughed, feeling no mirth, however, but sensible of my dull pain and my restlessness.

"Sir," said I, "if I have smelled gun-powder, I shall know that same perfume again; and if I have not yet sniffed it, nevertheless I shall know it when I come to scent it. So, gentlemen, I can not see that you are any worse off in experience than I."

A subaltern, smiling, ventured to ask me what kind of Indian was that who enquired me.

"Of Algonquin stock," said I, "but speaks an odd lingo, partly Huron-Iroquois, partly the Loup tongue, I think. He is a Saguenay."

"One of those fierce wanderers of the mountains," nodded an older officer. "I thought they were not to be tamed."

"I owned a tame tree-cat once," remarked another officer.

My friend, Jack-boots, now pulls out a bull's-eye watch with two fobs, and tells the time with a sort of sulky satisfaction. For many of the company arose, and made their several and gallant adieus to Penelope, who suffered their salute on one little hand, while she held yarn and needles in t'other.

But when half the plague of suitors and gallants had taken themselves off to their several duties, there remained still too many to suit young Jack-boots. Too many to suit me, either; and scarce knowing what I did or why, I moved forward to the tree where she was seated on a low swinging limb.

"Penelope," said I, "it is long since I have seen you. And if these gentlemen will understand and pardon the desire of an old friend to speak privately with you, and if you, also, are so inclined, give me a little time with you alone before I leave."

"Yes," she said, "I am so inclined – if it seem agreeable to all."

I am sure it was not, but they conducted civilly enough, save young Jack-boots, who got redder than ever and spoke not a word with his bow, but clanked away pouting.

And there were also two militia officers, wrapped in great watch cloaks over their Canajoharie regimentals, and who took their leave in silence. One wore boots, the other black spatter-dashes that came above the knee in French fashion, and were fastened under it, too, with leather straps.

Their faces were averted when they passed me, yet something about them both seemed vaguely familiar to me. No wonder, either, for I should know, by sight at least, many officers in our Tryon militia.

Whether they were careless, or unmannerly by reason of taking offense at what I had done, I could not guess.

I looked after them, puzzled, almost sure I had seen them both before; but where I could not recollect, nor what their names might be.

"Shall we stroll, Penelope?" I said.

"If it please you, sir."

Sir William had cut the alders all around the point, and a pretty lawn of English grass spread down to the water north and west, and pleasant shade trees grew there.

While she rolled her knitting and placed it in her silken reticule, I, glancing around, noticed that all the apple bloom had fallen, and the tiny green fruit-buds dotted every twig.

Then, as she was ready, and stood prettily awaiting me in her pink chintz gown, and her kerchief and buckled shoon, I gave her my hand and we walked slowly across the grass and down to the water.

Here was a great silvery iron-wood tree a-growing and spreading pleasant shade; and here we sat us down.

But now that I had got this maid Penelope away from the pest of suitors, it came suddenly to me that my pretenses were false, and I really had nothing to say to her which might not be discussed in company with others.

This knowledge presently embarrassed me to the point of feeling my face grow hot. But when I ventured to glance at her she smiled.

"Have you been in battle?" she asked.

"Yes."

After a silence: "I am most happy that you returned in safety."

"Did you ever – ever think of me?" I asked.

"Why, yes," she replied in surprise.

"I thought," said I, "that being occupied – and so greatly sought after by so many gallants – that you might easily have forgotten me."

She laughed and plucked a grass-blade.

"I did not forget you," she said.

"That is amazing," said I, " – a maid so run after and so courted."

She plucked another blade of grass, and so sat, pulling at the tender verdure, her head bent so that I could not see what her eyes were thinking, but her lips seemed graver.

"Well," said I, "is there news of Mr. Fonda?"

"None, sir."

"Tell me," said I, smiling, "why, when I speak, do you answer ever with a 'sir'?"

At that she looked up: "Are you not Lord Stormont, Mr. Drogue?" she asked innocently.

"Why, no! That is, nobody believes it any more than did the Lords in their House so many years ago. Is that why you sometimes say 'my lord,' and sometimes call me 'sir'?"

"But you still are the Laird of Northesk."

"Lord!" said I, laughing. "Is it that Scottish title bothers you? Pay it no attention and call me John Drogue – or John… Or Jack, if you will… Will you do so?"

"If it – pleases you."

She was still busy with the grass, and I watched her, waiting to see her dark eyes lift again – and see that little tremor of her lips which presaged the dawning smile.

It dawned, presently; and all the unrest left my breast – all that heavy dullness which seemed like the flitting shadow of a pain.

"Tell me," said I, "are you happy?"

"I am contented. I love my Mistress Swift. I love and pity Lady Johnson… Yes, I am happy."

"I know they both love you," said I. "So you should be happy here… And admired as you are by all men…"

Again she laughed in her enchanting little way, and bent her bright head. And, presently:

"John Drogue?"

"I hear you, Penelope."

"Do you wish warm woolen stockings for your men?"

"Why – yes."

"I sent to Caydutta Lodge for the garments. They are in the house. You shall choose for yourself and your men before the Continentals take their share."

I was touched, and thanked her. And now, it being near the noon hour, we walked together to the house.

The partition which Sir John had made for a gun-room, and which now served to enclose Penelope's chamber, was all hung with stout woolen stockings of her own knitting; and others lay on her trundle-bed. So I admired and handled and praised these sober fruits of her diligence and foresight, and we corded up some dozen pair for my white people; and I stuffed them into my soldier's leather sack.

Then I took her hands and said my thanks; and she looked at me and answered, "You are welcome, John Drogue."

I do not know what possessed me to put my arm around her. She flushed deeply. I kissed her; and it went to my head.

The girl was dumb and scarlet, not resisting, nor defending her lips; but there came a clatter of china dishes, and I released her as Flora and Colas appeared from below, with dinner smoking, and clattering platters.

And presently Lady Johnson's door opened, and she stepped out in her silk levete, followed by Claudia.

"I invited no one else," said Lady Johnson, " – if that suits you, Jack."

I protested that it suited me, and that I desired to spend my few hours from duty with them alone.

As we were seated, I ventured a side glance at Penelope and perceived that she seemed nothing ruffled, though her colour was still high. For she gave me that faint, enchanting smile that now began to send a thrill through me, and she answered without confusion any remarks addressed to her.

Remembering my Indian outside, I told Flora, and Colas took food to him on the veranda.

And so we spent a very happy hour there – three old friends together once more, and a young girl stranger whom we loved already. And I did not know in what degree I loved her, but that I did love her now seemed somewhat clear to my confused senses and excited mind, – though to love, I knew, was one thing, and to be in love was still another. Or so it seemed to me.

My animation was presently noticed by Claudia; and she rested her eyes on me. For I talked much and laughed more, and challenged her gay conceits with a wit which seemed to me not wholly contemptible.

"One might think you had been drinking of good news," quoth she; "so pray you share the draught, Jack, for we have none of our own to quench our thirst."

"Unless none be good news, as they say," said Lady Johnson, wistfully.

"News!" said I. "Nenni! But the sun shines, Claudia, and life is young, and 'tis a pretty world we live in after all."

"If you admire a marsh," says she, "there's a world o' mud and rushes to admire out yonder."

"Or if you admire a cabinful o' lonely ladies," added Lady Johnson, "you may gaze your fill upon us."

"I should never be done or have my fill of beauty if I sat here a thousand years, Polly," said I.

"A thousand years and a dead fish outshines our beauty," smiled Lady Johnson. "If you truly admire our beauty, Jack, best prove it now."

"To which of us the Golden Apple?" inquired Claudia, offering one of the winter russets which had been picked at the Point.

"Ho!" said I, "you think to perplex and frighten me? Non, pas! Polly Johnson shall not have it, because, if she ever makes me wise, wisdom is its own reward and needs no other. And you shall not have it, Claudia!"

"Why not?"

"Mere beauty cannot claim it."

"Why not? Venus received the apple cast by Eris."

"But only because Venus promised Love! Do you promise me the reward of the shepherd?"

"Myself?" she asked impudently.

"Venus," said Lady Johnson, "made that personal exception, and so must you, Claudia. The goddess promised beauty; but not herself."

"Then," said I, "Claudia has nothing to offer me. And so I give the apple to Penelope!"

She refused it, shyly.

"Industry is the winner," said I. "Thrift triumphs. I already have her gift. I have a dozen pair of woolen stockings for my men, knitted by this fair Penelope of today. And, as she awaits no wandering lord, though many suitors press her, then she should have at least this golden apple of Eris to reward her. And so she shall."

And I offered it again.

"Take it, my dear," said Claudia, laughing, "for this young man has given you a reason. Pallas offered military glory; you offer military stockings! What chance have Hera and poor Aphrodite in such a contest?"

We all were laughing while the cloth was cleared, and Flora brought us a great dish of wild strawberries.

These we sopped in our wine and tasted at our ease, there by the open windows, where a soft wind blew the curtains and the far-spreading azure waters sparkled in the sun.

How far away seemed death!

I looked out upon the mountains, now a pale cobalt tint, and their peaks all denting the sky like blue waves on Lake Erie against the horizon.

Low over the Vlaie Water flapped a giant heron, which alighted not far away and stood like a sentry, motionless at his post.

A fresh, wild breath of blossoms grew upon the breeze – the enchanting scent of pinxters. From the mainland, high on a sugar-maple's spire, came the sweet calling of a meadow-lark.

Truly, war seemed far away; and death farther still in this dear Northland of ours. And I fell a-thinking there that if kings could only see this land on such a day, and smell the pinxters, and hear the sweetened whistle of our lark, there would be no war here, no slavery, no strife where liberty and freedom were the very essence of the land and sky.

My Lady Johnson wished to rest; and there was a romance out of France awaiting her in gilt binding in her chamber.

She went, when the board was cleared, linking her arm in Claudia's.

Penelope took up her knitting with a faint smile at me.

"Will you tell me a story to amuse me, sir?" she said in her shy way.

"You shall tell me one," said I.

"I? What story?"

"Some story you have lived."

"I told you all."

"No," said I, "not any story concerning this very pest of suitors which plague you – or, if not you, then me! – as the suitors of the first Penelope plagued Telemachus."

Now she was laughing, and, at one moment, hid her face in her yarn, still laughing.

"Does this plague you, John Drogue?" she asked, still all rosy in her mirth.

"Well," said I, "they all seem popinjays to me in their blue and gold and buff. But it was once red-coats, too, at Caughnawaga, or so I hear."

"Oh. Did you hear that?"

"I did. They sat like flies around a sap-pan."

"Deary me!" she exclaimed, all dimples, "who hath gossiped of me at Cayadutta Lodge?"

"Penelope?"

"I am attentive, sir."

"I suppose all maids enjoy admiration."

"I suppose so."

"Hum! And do you?"

"La, sir! I am a maid, also."

"And enjoy it?"

"Yes, sir… Do not you?"

"What?"

"Do not you enjoy admiration? Is admiration displeasing to young men?"

"Well – no," I admitted. "Only it is well to be armed with experience – hum-hum! – and discretion when one encounters the flattery of admiration."

"Yes, sir… Are you so armed, Mr. Drogue?"

At a loss to answer, her question being unexpected – as were many of her questions – and answers also – I finally admitted that flattery was a subtle foe and that perhaps experience had not wholly armed me against that persuasive enemy.

"Nor me," said she, with serene candour. "And I fear that I lack as much in knowledge and experience as I do in years, Mr. Drogue. For I think no evil, nor perhaps even recognize it when I meet it, deeming the world kind, and all folk unwilling to do me a wrong."

"I – kissed you."

"Was that a wrong you did me?"

"Have not others kissed you?" said I, turning red and feeling mean.

But she laughed outright, telling me that it concerned herself and not me what she chose to let her lips endure. And I saw she was a very child, all unaccustomed, yet shyly charmed by flatteries, and already vaguely aware that men found her attractive, and that she also was not disinclined toward men, nor averse to their admiration.

"How many write you verses?" I asked uneasily.

"Gentlemen are prone to verses. Is it unbecoming of me to encourage them to verse?"

"Why, no…"

"Did you think the verses fine you heard in the orchard?"

"Oh, yes," said I, carelessly, "but smacking strong of Major André's verses to his several Sacharissas."

"Oh. I thought them fine."

"And all men think you fine, I fear – from that soldier who pricked your name on his powder-horn at Mayfield fort to Bully Jock Gallopaway of the Border Horse at Caughnawaga, and our own little Jack-boots in the orchard yonder."

"Only Jack Drogue dissents," she murmured, bending over her knitting.

At that I caught her white hand and kissed it; and she blushed and sat smiling in absent fashion at the water, while I retained it.

"You use me sans façon," she murmured at last. "Do you use other women so?"

Now, I had used some few maids as wilfully, but none worse, yet had no mind to admit it, nor yet to lie.

"You ask me questions," said I, "but answer none o' mine."

At that her gay smile broke again. "What a very boy," quoth she, "to be Laird o' Northesk! For it is cat's-cradle talk between us two, and give and take to no advancement. Will you tell me, my lord, if it gives you pleasure to touch my lips?"

"Yes," said I. "Does it please you, too?"

"I wonder," says she, and was laughing again out of half-shy eyes at me.

But, ere I could speak again, comes an express a-galloping; and we saw him dismount at the mainland gate and come swiftly across the orchard.

"My orders," said I, and went to the edge of the veranda.

The letter he handed me was from Colonel Dayton. It commended me, enjoined secrecy, approved my Oneidas and my Saguenay, but warned me to remain discreetly silent concerning these red auxiliaries, because General Schuyler did not approve our employing savages.

Further, he explained, several full companies of Rangers had now been raised and were properly officered and distributed for employment. Therefore, though I was to retain my commission, he preferred that I command my present force as a scout, and not attempt to recruit a Ranger company.

"For," said he, "we have great need of such a scout under an officer who, like yourself, has been Brent-Meester in these forests."