CHAPTER II
KING GEORGE'S STATUE
The ladies and the children had not yet arrived at the Lutheran church when a great outcry was suddenly heard in the direction of Bowling Green, and Mistress Dean came to a full stop as she said in a tone of fear:
"I really do not dare go any further. I am certain that something terrible is being done there, and if we go on it may be to find ourselves so hemmed in by the throng that it will be impossible to get away until after the orgy is at an end."
"If you call the pullin' down of King George's statue a orgy, then I allow you must be the wife of a Tory," a fishwoman, who heard the remark as she was passing hurriedly, stopped to say sharply.
"I am not the wife of a Tory!" Mistress Dean replied emphatically, "and as to that, those who know Jacob Dean, the silversmith, can testify."
"If you're of his family it will do you good to see what is goin' on," the woman said with a laugh as she disappeared at a quick pace, leaving Dorothy's mother covered with confusion because she had so far forgotten herself as to make explanations thus publicly.
"We must see that part of the celebration!" and Mistress Lamb appeared quite as eager as the wildest lad in the throng. She pressed forward without regard to the injury that might be done Sarah's garments, and the latter, clutching her friend by the hand, pulled Dorothy after her.
How it was accomplished neither the ladies nor the children could have told; but certain it is that within ten minutes after the cause of the sudden commotion had been explained, the two girls and their mothers were where it was possible to see all that was being done.
The leaden statue of the king stood on the Green as the children had seen it many, many times before; but now there were long ropes attached to the head, and men, soldiers and boys were making ready for a trial of strength.
"They are really going to pull it down!" Mistress Dean said in a whisper, as if to her mind the act of renouncing allegiance to England was as nothing compared with the disrespect which, was thus being shown the effigy of a king.
"It almost frightens me," Dorothy whispered to Sarah, and the latter, clasping her friend's hand yet more firmly, replied:
"It is terrible! Only think of what my lord 
"Surely we are not to blame if the people pull down the king's statue," Dorothy said with a sob.
"But our fathers are, and I would rather be hurt myself, than have mine come to any harm."
The possibility that the king might punish the people for thus declaring themselves free and independent, had occurred to Dorothy only as something so remote that she could have no part in it; but now that Sarah had spoken she began to feel more than a little frightened because she had been so bold, and, like her mother, heartily wished that she was at home out of the treasonable turmoil, even though her father had said it was noble to act in such a manner.
There were big tears in her eyes when she saw the statue sway to and fro as the throng tugged at the ropes with many a shout and huzza, while from every portion of the Green could be heard cries of approval, as if those who had no hold on the rope would thus show that they were fully in accord with what was being done.
Dorothy literally trembled when she recognized her father's voice high above the din, as he shouted:
"Now at it all together! One more pull and his majesty will come down from his high estate in New York!"
Again the statue swayed to and fro, and even as Dorothy was hoping that something would happen to prevent the people from doing so rash a thing, the leaden likeness of George III. toppled from its pedestal, tumbling head foremost on the ground amid a cloud of dust, accompanied by the frantic screaming of those who wished to show themselves foremost in the dangerous task of making the colonies free from the oppressive yoke of England's rule.
Surely Mistress Dean was not far wrong when she spoke of that which was to be done at Bowling Green as "an orgy," for during ten minutes or more after the statue had fallen it was as if the male members of the gathering had gone wild, the greater number with joy, and not a few with rage because such an indignity should have been offered to the king.
Then arose the cry of "Tory! Tory!" and in a twinkling those who were nearest a gentleman who had spoken very decidedly against what he was pleased to call "lawless proceedings," rushed forward with intent to do him bodily harm.
At the moment he was attacked, this friend of the king's stood not more than a dozen paces from the two girls, and, as can well be imagined, both they and their mothers were speedily in the midst of a shouting, yelling mob, every member of which panted with the desire to punish the man who had dared condemn what was being done while they were celebrating the adoption of the Declaration.
Mistress Dean screamed wildly for help; but it is a question if any save Mistress Lamb heard the appeal, so great was the uproar in the immediate vicinity. Then the good woman tried to lead her daughter out from the throng; but she might as well have attempted to stem the ocean tide with a feather.
Every man and boy near at hand was pressing from all points toward a common center, and the two ladies, with their children, were hemmed in until it was literally impossible to move.
The Tory was armed only with a light walking cane; but he made every effort to use it as an effective weapon, and, in fact, did succeed in striking several blows which must have been painful to those who received them. It was not possible, however, for him to defend himself successfully when the press was so great that he could not move his arms to advantage, and to Dorothy and Sarah it seemed as if the struggle had hardly more than begun before the gentleman was lifted astride a piece of joist which had previously been brought to the Green for the work of overturning the statue.
In this shameful position he was carried on the shoulders of four men, his legs held firmly by half a dozen boys to prevent him from slipping off, around the Green, amid the hoots and derisive cries of a majority of the spectators, who believed that a "Tory ride" was a most seemly portion of the celebration.
"If we hadn't been so foolish as to promise the gentlemen we would meet them here after the bonfire!" good Mistress Dean cried in distress. "It wouldn't seem quite so bad if the children were at home!"
"I'se mighty glad for to run 'cross ye. Missus," a voice from out the surrounding throng said in tones of deepest thankfulness, and Dorothy absolutely shouted with joy as old Scip, the Negro servant employed by her father at the shop, forced his way to her side.
Scipio Africanus was his full name; but it is a question if either he or Dorothy was aware of the fact, for to her, and himself, for that matter, he was simply "Scip," while the boys knew him only as "Jacob Dean's nigger Scip."
Mistress Dean was no less pleased by the arrival of the old man than was her daughter, for she suddenly saw her way out of at least a portion of her difficulties.
"Have you seen your master since he came on the Green?"
"Nebber once. Missus; he done gone got hissef mixed up wid dem Sons, an' is habin' his han's full, I reckon, what wid Tory rides, pullin' down de statures, an' dat bonfire what's gwine ter roar way up to de sky when she's touched off."
"Go find him at once, Scip, and say I wish he would come here without delay. We need him sorely."
Scipio bowed gravely, then tugged at the wool just over his forehead in a sailorly fashion, and was lost to view in the crowd before Dorothy had an opportunity of speaking the words which were trembling on her lips.
"We could hardly get away if we started at once," Mistress Lamb said apprehensively, as she gazed at the new accessions to the ranks of the spectators which hemmed in the ladies even more completely than before.
"Are you going home, mother?" Dorothy asked.
"Yes, my child, as soon as your father comes. This is no place for us, and I should have known that there would be little less than a mob here."
"Don't speak so loudly," Mistress Lamb cautioned. "We may be again mistaken for Tories, and then our troubles would be great indeed, for these people are too highly excited to listen to reason."
"Do you want to go home, Sarah?" Dorothy asked in a low tone.
"Indeed I do. The lace is torn from my petticoat front, and my gown is soiled."
"Some one stepped on the toe of my beautiful shoe, and scraped the gloss off," Dorothy added, as if believing that a list of her own mishaps would suffice to cheer the disconsolate Sarah. "My frontage is crushed, and I would have lost the steinkirk if I hadn't taken it off when we first arrived here."
While the children were comparing notes relative to the disarrangement of their costumes, and the ladies were dismally speculating as to what might be the result of trying to force a passage through the throng, Scip returned, breathless and heated.
"I done been everywhar, an' de Massa ain't dere. I 'spects he am so took up wid de fire dat he's jes' like a weasel in de stone wall. Carn't ole Scip do what you'se wants?"
"I am eager to get home; but don't dare to leave here without acquainting Master Dean of my purpose," the good woman replied in perplexity, and at that moment Mistress Lamb whispered in her ear:
"Surely it would be safe to send the children home with Scip. With them out of the way we shan't have so much to fret us, and can wait with some degree of patience, if it so be we must."
To the anxious woman this proposition seemed a good one. She believed it her duty to remain at the rendezvous appointed by her husband. If the girls could be taken home they would at least be in safety, and, in event of another disturbance similar to the attack upon the Tory, there would be real danger that the children might be seriously crushed.
"Do you believe, Scip, that you would have any trouble in going from here to Hanover square?" she asked, having been taught by her husband that the old Negro might be trusted in any ordinary emergency.
"De way am clear, Missus, kase all de folks in de city am packed up here. Dere wouldn't be no fuss 'bout gettin' home; but yer carn't want'er go till de fire hab been touched off?"
"I wish to send the children home; they are in real danger here, for if we have more trouble like the last, it will be all Mistress Lamb and I can do to take care of ourselves. You are to go with them to Hanover square, and remain quietly in the house until I come."
The old darkey looked thoroughly disappointed at thus being deprived of the pleasure which would come with the kindling of the bonfire; but he was too good a servant to question the command, and, taking the girls by the hands, he would have started off without delay, but that Dorothy stopped him.
"You must get the key of the house from mother, Scip, else we can't get in."
"I 'clar to goodness, little Missy; but de ole man clean forgot 'bout dat part ob it, an' I spects yer mammy did too."
"Do not loiter on the way," Mistress Dean said as she unfastened from the chain around her waist, the key of the house door.
"I'se gwine ter tote dem chillun right quick, an' dere won't be no foolin' 'roun', dat yer can 'pend on, Missus."
Then Scipio led the girls through the throng with no slight difficulty, for every person was eager to press forward, and resented any attempt which would seem to cause a loss of vantage ground.
It was with a long-drawn sigh of relief that Dorothy finally gained the open street in the rear of the sight-seers, and old Scip appeared surprised because she gave evidence of pleasure.
"I 'lowed dat yer'd be clean down to de heel on 'count ob habin' to come away 'fore de fire started, an' yet you'se chipper as er jay-bird, little Missy."
"It was dreadful to be jammed among all those people; I felt as if I was stifling, and besides, if we'd stayed much longer, being pulled and hauled as we were when the Tory took his ride, our new gowns would have been ruined."
"Mine looks as if it had been worn every day for a month," Sarah said mournfully. "Mother thought it would serve until next winter for best. While General Washington and his soldiers stay here the city will be very gay, and I must have fine clothes, unless I'm to be shamed every time I go out of doors."
"I heard some ob de ossifers talkin' 'bout dis yere Britisher, Gineral Howe, comin' up from de island wid his red-coats, an' when dat happens I 'lows our soldiers am boun' for to git away mighty quick," Scipio said gravely, as he led the way through the deserted streets at a rapid pace.
"My lord Howe's men can't come into the city while our soldiers are here, for General Washington will stop them," Dorothy replied very decidedly, but the old darkey shook his head despondently.
"Massa Dean sent me up to Fraunce's tabern dis yere mawnin', an' while I was waitin' for de ossifer to make up his mind which ob de silber cups he wanted, I heared 'em talkin' 'bout how dere wasn't soldiers enuf in town to stop dem Britishers ef dey took it inter dere heads to come."
"Then you heard that which wasn't true, Scip, for I am certain my father would have known it, and he wasn't afraid the British troops could take the city," Dorothy said sharply, and Sarah added:
"Of course they can't come now that the Declaration has been made. My father says the king no longer rules over us, and since that is so, he has no right to send his soldiers here."
"I 'spects you'se kerrect, little Missy. I'se only a wuffless ole nigger what wouldn't fetch ten shillin's at auction, an' I ain't got sense enuf ter know wha' de quality kin do; but I'se pow'ful sorry kase we done missed dat 'ere fire!"
"It will be much more pleasant at home, than among such a throng of people," Dorothy replied in a tone of content, "and who knows but that we can see the flames from the windows? Surely we should be able to do so if the bonfire is as large as was promised."
The idea appeared to have a soothing effect upon Scipio, whose black face was wreathed in smiles as he hurried his young charges on, trying from time to time to quicken the pace by reminding them that unless they arrived within a very short while the fire might have burned itself out.
The shadows of night were already lengthening when the little party arrived at the head of Wall street, and there was no further need to hasten the movements of the children, for both were eager to gain the shelter of the Hanover square home before it was fully dark.
When, finally, they stood on the stoop of the wooden house with its gable of yellow bricks, showing that it had been built by one of the Dutch settlers, there was no glow in the sky to betoken that the fire had been kindled, and Scipio was in good humor, believing he would be able to see, even though from a distance, that rare spectacle which the Sons of Liberty had promised should be presented on this day of festivity.
Three or four minutes elapsed before the old darkey could move the ponderous key in the huge lock, and when the heavy front door was swung open the dark interior of the house caused the girls to shrink back, as if fearing that something frightful might come from out the gloom, despite the fact that the dwelling had been free from any save household objects when they left it a few hours previous.
"Do you go ahead to the living room," Dorothy said, clutching Scipio by the skirts of his coat with one hand, and holding Sarah's dimpled fingers in the other. "Make no delay, Scip; but light the candles as soon as you may, for I do not like this blackness."
"I'se mos' ginerally got my eye out for spooks, an' sich like truck, honey; but it's too early for dem to be prowlin' 'roun', an' we'se snug here as bugs in a rug; but I ain't sayin' dat I'd like to poke my brack nose inter de dark 'long 'bout midnight, kase den dere's likely ter be trubble."
"Don't speak of it, Scip," Sarah pleaded. "Light the candles, and then close the shutters."
It was not a simple task for Scip to do as he had been commanded; first he groped his way around to find the candles, which he knew must be on the tall mantel over the huge fireplace, and then a skilful manipulation of flints was necessary that a spark might fall upon a bit of cotton, which had been dipped in sulphur, thereby producing a flame.
After laboring until the perspiration ran in tiny streams down his black face, for it was very warm in the house with every window tightly closed, Scipio succeeded in obeying the commands of the girls, who, now that they were in safety, began to examine their garments which had received some rough usage, and finding more cause for tears than smiles as they viewed the many rents and stains.
While this was being done the old darked stood first on one foot and then the other, as if impatient almost beyond control, and not until he had spent considerable time in such aimless occupation did Dorothy appear to realize that he was not particularly happy.
"What is the matter, Scip? Aren't you content now that we are safely housed?"
"Dat's des de trubble, honey. I'se housed too much, kase I carn't get de littlest mite ob a squint out doors wid all de shutters closed up tight."
"I thought you intended to look out of the window?"
"It carn't be did down here, honey."
"Then go up-stairs."
"Dat's des what I'se hankerin' after mighty bad; but it won't do for er ole nigger like me to be prowlin' 'roun' de house erlone,' less you'se willin'."
"I am quite certain mother would give you permission to go into the upper chamber; but she wouldn't allow you to take a candle, because of the chance that the house might be set afire."
"I ain't carin' for de candle, honey. Ef you'se warnts ole Scip, des yell, an' he'll be down here in er shake."
As he spoke Scipio began the ascent of the stairs rapidly, and Sarah, suddenly realizing that she and Dorothy might witness that which would interest them, called after him:
"If you can see the bonfire, come back and tell us."
"Trus' ole Scip not ter let you'se miss anything dat's goin' on," he cried from the upper floor, and the girls could hear his heavy footsteps as he went from one apartment to another to ascertain where the best view might be had.
On this evening the girls were particularly timid, and there were many of their elders in New York at that hour who were not one whit braver. Those who understood the situation, knew that the adoption of the Declaration would excite the king's officers to renewed exertions in their task of putting down the rebellion, therefore it was possible that the clash of arms might resound on the streets at any moment.
The children, however, were not disturbed by such forebodings. They were only aware that there had been much to alarm them since the day began, and now, after escaping from a crush of people that had seemed almost menacing, so great had it been, all the stories of supernatural happenings which they had heard from the Negro servants came vividly to mind.
For the first time were they alone in the old house where were many corners and angles which looked suspicious in the darkness, if one's mind was in the proper frame to manufacture terrors, and Scipio was a long distance away.
The examination of the rumpled costumes ended, the girls sat at one side of the fireplace, perhaps because that was the most frequented portion of the room, silent and motionless, listening intently for the lightest unusual noise, and then Sarah said with difficulty, as if her tongue was parched by fear:
"Don't you think, Dorothy, that it would be better if Scip stayed down here with us? Your mother might not like to have him rummaging around the chambers."
"I don't believe she would care very much, for he is careful, and father says he wouldn't steal the value of a pin; but perhaps it might be better if we had him under our eyes."
Then Dorothy went to the stairway and called in a thin, piping voice:
"Scip! Oh Scipio!"
"Here I is, honey!"
"Will you—Don't you suppose—Can you see the fire?"
"No, Missy, I reckon dey ain't touched her off yet, or else it carn't be a berry big one, kase I don't see hide nor hair ob it, an' I'se been lookin' eberywhar."
"Wouldn't it be more pleasant to sit down here with Sarah and me?"
"I'se comin', chile, but I 'low dat dis ole nigger ain't de kin' ob company you'se 'customed to keepin'."
The tramp of footsteps above, as the old darkey obeyed the summons, was most reassuring to the children, and by the time Scipio came into the living room again the girls were looking almost cheerful.
It would have been better, however, if the servant had remained searching with his eyes for some evidence of the bonfire, because no sooner was he with the children than he seemed to think it his bounden duty to amuse them, and this he endeavored to do by telling stories of the most blood-curdling kind.
He had been captured in Africa by the men-stealers when he was full grown, and remembered distinctly all the tales of the supernatural, or the myths of his people, therefore the fund from which he drew was well-nigh inexhaustible.
First he described the horrors of the slave ship, which led up to the alleged appearance of a ghost on board, the visitor being, as he declared, the spirit of a companion who had died during the passage. From that cheerful topic he wandered off to the Negro plot to burn New York, with which the girls were quite familiar, and described with great detail the sufferings of those burned at the stake, and the contortions of the culprits who were hanged.
In fact, his method of amusing the children was well calculated to make both of them even more nervous and timid than before, and they trembled when the candles flared, or Scip moved his feet across the sanded floor suddenly.
Therefore it was that when, suddenly, the sound of many voices raised in anger was heard from the outside, Dorothy and Sarah leaped to their feet with a cry of fear.