CHAPTER V
THE SEARCH
This peremptory summons alarmed the girls almost as much as had the sight of Lieutenant Oakman in the best room, and involuntarily they clasped each other by the neck; but without making any movement toward the door.
The knocking was repeated yet more loudly, and Sarah whispered tearfully:
"If those wicked men come in while your father is away, they will be certain to find that poor spy!"
"And when we tell father that the officer is in the attic, I'm afraid there may be the worst kind of trouble. It was only this afternoon that he said, when speaking of the spy which was chased through the square, 'Such a man may do more injury than an hundred who stand up with muskets to shoot us down.'"
"Are you beginning to be sorry we hid him?"
"Indeed I am not! I can't help thinking, however, now it has been done, that father may be very angry, and will, perhaps, give him up immediately to those wicked men."
"Why not keep it a secret from everybody, and we may get a chance to slip him down the front stairs to-morrow, when your mother is in the kitchen?"
"Sarah Lamb! Do you think I would bring a Britisher into this house and not tell my parents?"
"But if it was to save the poor man's life?" young Mistress Lamb persisted.
"I couldn't do such a thing, no matter how much depended on it, because"
"Inside there! Are you goin' to open this door, or shall we stave it in?" came in angry tones from the outside.
"You must say something to them," and Sarah pushed her friend through the long hallway.
Dorothy grew brave once more, remembering that it was a man's life she was trying to save, and, with her mouth close to the keyhole, she cried at the full strength of her lungs:
"There is nobody in here except Sarah Lamb, daughter of Master Anthony Lamb, and me—Dorothy Dean! We can't let you in until father comes, and he should be here soon, for I have just sent Scip after him."
"We can't wait for any such foolishness. A British spy ran into one of these houses; we have searched the others, and know he must be here. Open the door. There is nobody with us who will harm a couple of children."
"I can't until my father comes," Dorothy said firmly; but, had there been a light in the hall, Sarah could have seen that her face was very pale.
"If Jacob Dean was hot on the trail of a spy from Howe's army, as we are, he would not hesitate to break into any man's house!" the voice from the outside cried angrily, and his followers applauded the statement by shouting:
"That's the kind of talk to make! At such a time as this no man's house is his castle! Burst open the door! Bring a log or heavy beam, an' we'll soon walk in!"
When this outburst had subsided somewhat, the man who stood on the stoop cried to Dorothy:
"You must see that we're bound to make an entrance here, and can't await your father's movements. Unless you open we shall batter the door down."
"I shall not open, and if you dare injure this house it will be to your cost!" Dorothy cried bravely, and she was exceeding well pleased with herself that she had been able to speak so firmly.
"Here's a timber that will do the business!" some one in the throng shouted, and he who had acted as spokesman cried loudly:
"Lay hold there, a dozen or more, and make ready to give her a run forward." Then speaking to the children, he said, "Stand back, or go into the other room, else you will be badly hurt when the door gives way, as give it must when we get a fair blow at it."
Then it was that Dorothy displayed such firmness and temper as her father might have shown under similar circumstances.
"Sarah and I will stand directly here, and if we are killed or wounded, your crime will be all the greater!"
"What's that?" some one asked, and the spokesman repeated the girl's words.
"It's no concern of ours if she chooses to run her head into danger!" a voice cried. "Let the chit take the consequences, if she is so pert. Come on with the timber!"
Then it was that some man, one who probably had children of his own at home, shouted:
"It were better, ten times over, to wait till Jacob Dean comes back, than to harm a child!"
With this the men began to wrangle among themselves, some in favor of breaking down the barrier at any cost, and others insisting that it would be a dastardly crime to do such a thing, more especially while the owner of the dwelling was absent.
This discussion lasted ten minutes or more, and fortunate for the children it was, since at the end of that time Masters Dean and Lamb, with their wives, arrived.
Just prior to their coming the mob had decided that an entrance should be forced at all hazards, and a large number had raised the timber preparatory to using it as a battering-ram, when the silversmith came into view.
The children were apprised of his approach by hearing him cry angrily, while yet some distance away:
"What are you doing there, you villains?"
"We are naught but honest men and true," the spokesman near the door cried sharply. "When Sons of Liberty begin the work of ending the king's rule by harborin' spies, it is time those whom you call villains should look after the safety of the city."
"What do you mean, you rogue?" Master Dean cried, and from his tone Dorothy understood, even though no one else might have done so, that he was in a towering rage.
"We followed a British spy into the square, and he gave us the slip near about this place," another man replied with a certain degree of respect. "We have searched two dwellings, and would have done the same by this, in an orderly fashion, but that your daughter refused us admittance in your absence."
"And she was right in so doing!" Master Jacob cried. "My house has been closed since the celebration began, until an hour or more ago, when I sent Dorothy home in company with Sarah Lamb, and accompanied by an old servant, Scipio, whom doubtless some of you know by sight. The doors have not been unlocked, save to admit them, and allow him to pass out, but yet you batter at my dwelling, which is defended by two children, under the excuse that you are serving the Cause. Out upon such patriots as you, who would plunder other peoples' homes with the pretext of aiding your distressed country!"
"But the door wasn't locked all the time, for Scip left it open when he went out," Sarah whispered in her friend's ear, and Dorothy replied softly:
"It must be that Scip so told him, for my father wouldn't say anything which he did not believe to be the truth."
Judging from the silence, Master Dean's words abashed a certain number of the mob, for no immediate reply was made, and very shortly afterward the children heard the silversmith's voice as he rattled the latch of the door.
"Give me entrance, my daughter. You need no longer have any fear, for I'll warrant that these self-styled patriots will think twice before destroying my property under guise of good intentions."
"We've been doing no more than you yourself would have done, Jacob Dean," some one cried, and the worthy silversmith turned on the speaker in a rage.
"Do you dare to say that I would make an attack on two helpless children?"
"It wasn't the girls, but the spy, that brought us here!"
"And if the spy, as you claim, was shut up in this house, would it not have been as well to summon me, before battering in a door that can hardly be replaced in this country?"
During this brief conversation Dorothy had been struggling to turn the huge key in the lock, and had only just succeeded when Master Dean ceased speaking.
He did not, however, enter immediately; but stepped aside to admit the ladies, and when they were inside. Master Lamb joined him on the threshold, where the two men stood holding back the mob.
Now had come the time when Dorothy believed it was necessary she should tell her father all that had occurred; but her mother insisted that she and Sarah come into the living room without delay.
"May I speak with him just for one moment?" the child pleaded; but Mistress Dean did not think it seemly the children should remain before the mob of men, and, never supposing there could be anything of importance to her husband in what Dorothy wanted to say, peremptorily ordered her to come into the living room.
"You might tell your mother about what is in the attic," Sarah whispered; but Dorothy shook her head decidedly.
"I had rather tell my father first."
Then arose a great outcry from the square in front of the building, as many of the mob insisted on entering to make the search, and Masters Dean and Lamb stoutly resisted such attempt.
The people living near by, returning from the scene of the festivities, were attracted by the outcries, and stood idly around to learn the cause of the tumult, thus adding to the numbers, until it was as if the entire population of the city had gathered outside Master Dean's house.
For a time the silversmith declared that the dwelling should not be searched, because it was absolutely impossible that any person, save members of his own family, could have entered during his absence; but the disturbance became so great that Master Lamb finally advised that some concessions be made.
After considerable discussion with the maker of mathematical instruments, Master Dean said, addressing the mob:
"I am advised by Master Lamb, that the best way to put an end to this outrage upon the public peace and the rights of private and law-abiding citizens, is to let you prove for yourselves that there is no person concealed in this building. I will not, however, have such a mob trooping through my dwelling. You may choose two to accompany Master Lamb and myself, and a thorough search shall be made."
Now it was that Dorothy ran forward, seizing an opportunity when her mother was deeply engaged with Mistress Lamb, and caught her father by the skirts of his coat.
She was determined to tell him everything then, even though obliged to speak in the presence of Sarah's father, believing that the officer would be speedily discovered once the search was begun.
The worthy silversmith was not in the proper frame of mind to listen to his daughter just then, and, speaking more sharply than Dorothy had ever known him to speak before, he commanded her to return immediately to her mother's side.
There was nothing for the child to do but obey, because at that moment two men advanced, and Master Dean gave his entire attention to them.
"Since you insist by show of force, to intrude upon my privacy, I ask that you do your work with all possible speed, and then leave honest people in peace. Where will you representatives of a mob be pleased to go first?"
While speaking he had ushered the men into the living room, and there, in the presence of the ladies, the men appeared decidedly uncomfortable, for to be looked upon as persons who were forcing themselves into a private residence for base purposes, was well calculated to abash any save a hardened criminal.
Old Scip had followed the searchers, and, seeing him, Master Dean deferred the business on hand, by saying:
"Here is the servant who came home with the children, at about the time we on Bowling Green were starting the bonfire, and he and they were the first to enter the building after my wife and Mistress Lamb set out for the common. We will hear what he has to say. Scipio," he added, addressing the old darkey, "were the house doors securely locked when you came here with your young mistress?"
"'Deed dey was, Massa."
"Did you lock the door by which you entered, immediately after coming into the house?"
"Fur sartin, Massa."
"Was it unlocked at any time, save to allow you to get out?"
"Nebber once, Massa, an' dat am de gospil trufe!"
"But father"—Dorothy began, and before she could say anything more Master Dean stopped her with a gesture of impatience.
"If you speak to me again before this very disagreeable business is finished, I shall punish you severely!" Then to the two men he said with mock courtesy, "Now, gentlemen, having heard that it would have been impossible for a spy to enter this house, I bow to your demands that it be searched. Begin, and Master Lamb and I will follow you for the better security of what I may have here that is valuable."
It can well be imagined that after such a speech the unwelcome visitors were more ill at ease than before, and in no condition to perform faithfully the work which had been delegated them by the other members of the mob.
"We are satisfied with what you have said, Master Dean, an' are willin' to go out at once," one of them replied stammeringly. "It stands to reason that the spy couldn't have got in here."
"Since you have come thus far, I insist on your finishing the work," the silversmith cried angrily. "Turn out my wife's presses of linen; overhaul the clothing belonging to the child, and make certain that you take due note of what may be in the pantry."
The master of the house literally pushed his visitors forward, and, eager to be outside once more, the men began the pretense of a search such as would not have disclosed Lieutenant Oakman had he been concealed only by the curtains of the room.
Dorothy was almost speechless. Never before had her father spoken to her in such a tone, or made such a threat, and, kneeling beside one of the straight-backed chairs, she gave way to grief, while Sarah did her feeble best at consolation.
"He was angry because of what the men said, and didn't really mean to be cross with you."
"But he was, very cross," Dorothy sobbed, "and now I can't tell him about the old chest. They will find the Britisher there, and father is certain to be more angry with me than before. Oh, what shall we do, Sarah? How I wish that officer hadn't any children of his own, and then, perhaps, we wouldn't have been tempted to hide him!"
Sarah could do no more than mingle her tears with Dorothy's, and the two girls mourned despairingly, but heedful in their grief to avoid any demonstration lest their mothers should insist on knowing all the cause.
The representatives of the mob were walking rapidly through the house, being literally forced so to do by Master Dean, whose anger, because of what he termed an unwarranted intrusion, seemed to increase, rather than diminish, with time, and each moment the sorrowing children expected to hear that which would betoken the finding of the spy.
Nothing save the footfalls of the searchers and the ironical words of the silversmith could be heard on the inside, and without, the mob was waiting patiently for the report of their representatives, making no more of a disturbance than might arise from an animated conversation wherein half a dozen men tried to speak at the same time.
It was to Dorothy and Sarah as if a full half hour elapsed before the searchers could be heard descending the stairs, although in fact the four men had not been absent from the living room more than five minutes, and Sarah whispered in a tone of wonderment:
"They've been in the attic, and didn't find anything!"
Dorothy leaped to her feet in excitement, mentally asking if it could really be possible that the search had been in vain. It seemed to her as if the first object which would have caused suspicion was the oaken chest, and even now she could hardly credit the fact that, for the officer in hiding, the danger had passed, at least, until Master Dean was made aware of his whereabouts.
"These gentlemen declare that they are satisfied," the silversmith announced as the searching party entered the living room. "And if such be the fact, we will hope to be free from further outrage. This way, if you please," and he opened the door leading into the hall that they might depart.
One of the men hesitated as if about to make some apology, but the expression on the ladies' faces was not calculated to encourage anything of the kind, and he followed his comrade, being greeted with a loud shout as of disappointment by the waiting throng when the outer door was opened.
Perhaps it would have been as well if Master Dean had allowed the mob to disperse without more disagreeable words from him; but his anger was so great that he could not resist the temptation to berate the people because of what he considered a base outrage. He used the sharpest and most bitter epithets at his command, and when the harangue was come to an end the men, unable to make any adequate retort, left the square shamefacedly.
The silversmith shut the outer door with a bang, locked it noisily, and entered the living room where Master Lamb was waiting to take his departure, it being high time that he and his family were at home.
"It has been a most trying evening for you, friend Jacob," Anthony Lamb said when his host appeared. "One cannot give you much blame for being angry; but in these days, when the colony needs just such men as went to make up that mob, we, their leaders, must meet their lawlessness with a certain degree of forbearance."
"If they had been moved by a spirit of patriotism, no man could bear with their insults longer than I; but in this case, as I believe, the story of the spy was but a pretext to rob this house."
"A Britisher runned inter de square, suah, Massa Dean," Scipio said meekly. "I done saw him skinnin' 'roun' de corner ob dis berry house."
"It was probably the man who gave them a chase this morning," Master Lamb suggested. "The one whom Colonel Willett recognized."
"Doubtless; but it would have been impossible for him to get into my house. All the doors have been locked—"
Dorothy could remain silent no longer. With white face and trembling lips she interrupted her father by saying:
"The front door was left open after Scip went out, sir."
"I thought he locked it behind him," and Master Dean looked sternly at the old servant.
"I done lef' de key on de inside, Massa; but de young Missy turn' it, kase I couldn't git in when I come back."
"Did you lock it, my child?" the silversmith asked.
"No, sir."
"Then who did?"
"The spy, sir."
"The spy!" Master Dean cried in bewilderment. "What do you mean by that?"
"Only that he did it, sir, and Sarah and I thought all the while it was Scip, until—until—"
"Until what?" the silversmith cried excitedly, and the other members of the company advanced toward Dorothy as if fearing they might not hear her reply distinctly.
"When we saw him in the best room, sir," the child said hesitatingly.
Master Dean was breathing heavily, interlocking his fingers in the effort to preserve some semblance of calmness. Master Lamb stood with his hand on the silversmith's shoulder, leaning over to look Dorothy in the face, while the two ladies appeared to be thoroughly alarmed.
"Well, well, you saw him in the best room? What then? What then? Speak quickly, child! Can't you see that we are being tortured by such suspense?"
Dorothy was no longer able to continue the story. With the skirt of her new gown to her eyes she was weeping violently, and Sarah, only a little less agitated, answered the question.
"Then we asked him in here, sir. He was an officer—Lieutenant Oakman of the Forth-fourth foot, he said—with children at home no older than us two—such a pleasant gentleman!"
"Then a British spy has actually been in this house, and I was telling a tissue of lies to those men—those honest men whom I berated as rogues! And I claim to be a staunch Whig! I am foresworn! disgraced!"
"Tut, tut, friend Dean," Master Lamb said soothingly. "You spoke only as you believed, and surely no man can accuse you of wittingly telling that which is false. I do not see that any shadow of blame may be attached to you; but why did not the children explain all this at the outset?"
"Dorothy tried to do so, sir; but first her mother wouldn't allow it, and then Master Dean threatened punishment if the poor thing spoke again."
"True, true," the silversmith said with a groan. "I remember now that she did try to have speech with me; but my anger against those honest men whom I called rogues, was so great that I could not listen. Tell me, child, did the spy go out by the street door when he left?"
"No, sir, because he hasn't gone yet."
"Hasn't gone!" Master Dean echoed, staring wildly first at Sarah and then at Dorothy. "Do you mean to say that he—a British spy, was in my house while I prevented those good people from searching?"
"He's in the oaken chest, sir, and I've got the key in my pocket!" and having made this starting announcement young Mistress Dorothy gave way to such a violent flood of tears that further speech was impossible.
