CHAPTER VI
A DILEMMA
Master Lamb was no less alarmed than his host, and well might both the gentlemen, prominent members of the Sons of Liberty, feel decidedly ill at ease. Their daughters were guilty of that offense which they had been foremost in declaring was the greatest—short of absolute treason—, and the most serious against the struggling colonies, which could be committed.
The situation was aggravated by the intemperate words which Master Dean used when the citizens proposed to search his dwelling, in addition to which, as a matter of fact, he was solely responsible for the half-hearted examination of the premises. Had he welcomed those who claimed that a spy was concealed within, cheerfully giving them every opportunity to prove the truth or falsity of their statements, there could be no question but that Lieutenant Oakman would have been found.
"And it is I, Jacob Dean, secretary of the first patriotic association formed in this colony, who am guilty of doing this wicked thing!" the silversmith cried in tones of despair as he threw himself in the nearest chair, covering his face with his hands.
His words alarmed Sarah and Dorothy more than the most harsh epithets would have done, and, clasped in each other's arms, they gave way to loud and violent expressions of sorrow.
Such an uproar did the children make that the two ladies were forced to quiet them, in order that the situation might be rationally discussed by the gentlemen, and then Master Lamb said with an evident effort:
"We are equally concerned in this matter, friend Dean, for even though I did not say much to the citizens, I agreed with your angry remarks by remaining silent, and it would seem that my daughter has had nearly as much of a hand in this affair as yours. Let us consider it calmly."
"I am not in a proper frame of mind to consider anything in a quiet manner! I shall be hooted at as worse than a Tory, for the people will believe that while I apparently worked the hardest to arouse a spirit of patriotism among the citizens, I was secretly in sympathy and correspondence with the enemies of the colony, else why did the spy seek my house as a refuge?"
"He did not seek it; the people chased him, and most likely he ran at random, with no other idea than that of remaining free from them. Your door chanced to be open, and, not even knowing who lived here, he darted inside."
"Yes," Master Dean wailed, "I grant you that is the truth of the matter; but the people will not believe it, because of my opposition to the search. It will be said that if I was as ardent for the Cause as my professions indicated, I would have welcomed the citizens with open arms, even insisting that a search be made however positive I might be that it could result in nothing."
Master Lamb understood that his friend had spoken only the truth, and found it exceedingly difficult to suggest any plan of action which might give them a chance of escape from the serious dilemma into which they had been plunged.
"We must do something to avert the danger, for I realize fully that you and I, friend Dean, are standing in slippery places, even though innocent of any wrong intent."
"There is but one course!" and the silversmith sprang to his feet as if having decided upon immediate action. "The spy must he delivered up to the authorities without delay. Where are my pistols, wife?"
Mistress Dean went into an adjoining room with all speed, for of a verity she was eager to be rid of the British officer as quickly as possible, and Sarah and Dorothy, having heard the announcement, set up a most doleful cry; but the latter was no longer inclined to give herself wholly over to grief.
"He will be hanged if you take him away!" she cried imploringly.
"Ay, my child, and richly does he deserve the fate, not only for plying the trade of spy, but because he has put honest men, like neighbor Lamb and myself, in such sore straits."
"And he has little children at home, whom I am certain he loves dearly, for he kissed Sarah and me very tenderly."
"Yet he would have done that which might have put our children in jeopardy," the silversmith said with a certain determined closing of his lips, which was familiar to his friends as a token that he had finally decided a perplexing question.
"But father—" Dorothy began pleadingly, and her mother, returning with the weapons at this moment, interrupted her by saying:
"It is not seemly that children should dispute with their parents. Your father knows what is best, and that will be done."
"Ay, I will strive to wipe the stain from my name," the silversmith said as he flourished the pistols to the great alarm of the ladies. "Follow me, friend Lamb, and we will soon have the scoundrel out of hiding."
"Have a care for your safety, father," Mistress Dean said warningly. "He must be a desperate fellow, and no one knows what he may attempt to do. Are the pistols loaded?"
"I declare I hadn't thought of that," and straightway Master Dean set about charging the weapons with great care.
"There!" he exclaimed in a tone of triumph when the task was completed, the occupants of the room watching him with breathless interest. "I have put in charges large enough to kill an ox, and the Britisher won't have much chance against me."
"He has a pistol bigger than either of those," Sarah said with a sob, whereat the silversmith looked dismayed; but recovered himself an instant later to reply with a smile of content:
"He can't use it to advantage while he is locked in the chest, and the weapon shall be delivered up before we open the lid very wide. Come, friend Lamb, we will strike our first real blow against the enemies of the colony."
Master Dean had forgotten in his eagerness, that Dorothy claimed to have the key of the chest in her pocket; but would have advanced boldly, so much courage did the loaded pistols impart.
Sarah's father "hung in the wind," as the saying is. Instead of following close at his host's heels when the latter made a move toward the door leading to the rooms above, he retreated a few paces, as he said thoughtfully:
"Let us consider the matter in all its bearings, friend Dean, before taking any decisive steps. The spy must perforce remain where he is until we are ready, and a delay of an hour can make but little difference."
"Is there anything we can do but deliver him over to the rightful authorities?" the silversmith asked irritably.
"It surely seems as if that must be done; but first let us consider how we will stand with the public by so doing. The citizens were here, declaring that the spy was on the premises. You much the same as refused to admit them. Two hours later you walk into the headquarters of the army, with a prisoner whom you captured while he was hiding in your house. Now my question is this: Will the people who were here believe that you knew nothing regarding his whereabouts at the time you so stated to them, or will they claim that you wanted all the praise, and all the reward, for bringing in the Britisher? These be perilous times, friend Dean; the enemy will probably be in possession of the city very soon, for Howe has force enough to crush our army, and it behooves us to stand well with the public if we would save our own skins and property."
The worthy silversmith sank back on a chair moaning.
"Have you any proposition to make?" he asked after a long time of silence.
"You know better than I what should be done; but as it appears to me, we are both equally in a way to be blamed regarding this matter, and I surely have the right to question concerning the possible outcome of our movements."
"Oh, I wish the villain was out of this house!" Mistress Dean cried nervously.
"I could echo that wish, wife, if it might be done without my knowledge," the silversmith said fervently. "Why couldn't he have had sense enough to make his escape by one of the back windows before I arrived?"
"Since you are simply indulging in wishes, it would be as well to pray that he had never come, or, to go still further afield, that our wives had not sent the children here," Master Lamb replied, smiling sadly.
"Are we to be blamed because a spy sought refuge in this house, taking advantage of an open door?" Mistress Lamb cried shrilly, and straightway her husband set about soothing her, while Master Dean remained in an attitude of despair, turning over in his mind, without arriving at any satisfactory conclusion, the perplexing question as to how he might do his duty by the colony, and at the same time continue to stand before the people as a sincere patriot and their friend.
Little Mistress Dorothy was the only person in the room who appeared to have a clear idea of what should be done, and it seemed to her that the words of both father and mother had given her a clue to what she ought to do.
Her father had said distinctly that he wished the officer was well out of the house, if it could be accomplished without his knowledge, and it appeared to the child as if he laid a direct command upon her. At that very moment the key of the chest was in the pocket of her gown. The older members of the party were so deeply engrossed with the trouble which had come upon them, that apparently no attention was paid to the children, and Dorothy believed her duty was plain.
Beckoning to Sarah, who was standing near her mother's chair, the girl went softly into the kitchen, giving no heed to the darkness because of the weighty subject of her thoughts.
Sarah obeyed the signal, and old Scip, who had been standing in one corner very ill at ease, welcomed an opportunity to escape by following the children.
"Why did you come?" Dorothy asked sharply of the old servant as he closed the door behind him.
"Why, honey, does yer 'spect dare's much enjiment in standin' 'roun' dat 'ere room on one leg like er ole goose, 'lowin' ebery minute dat somebody's gwin to fall erfoul ob yer?"
"But we don't want you here."
"Now, little Missy, yo' won' go fur ter turn de ole man off when he's got more trubble dan he can stan' under. I'se suah gwine ter get er floggin' fur leabin' de door open, an' I ain't sartin Massa Dean won' shoot me, kase he's powerful mad."
Dorothy knew from long experience that Scip would argue the matter with her half an hour or more, provided she did not appeal to her parents meanwhile, and it had suddenly come into her mind that she might need assistance if the officer was to escape out of a back window, as her father had evidently suggested.
"Scip, will you cross your throat—and that's a terrible oath you know—not to tell if I let you help me, and show how we can arrange everything to please father?"
"Suah I will," and the old darkey went through the form of crossing his throat, with great solemnity.
"Didn't you hear mother say she wished the lieutenant was out of the house?" Dorothy asked earnestly.
"I did fur certain, honey."
"And you heard father say he wished the lieutenant had made his escape by one of the back windows before he got home from Bowling Green?"
"I heard all dat, chile, an' it's 'er fac'!"
"Then we must let him escape! When he has gone the whole matter will be settled as father wants it, and nobody can blame him."
"I 'clar to goodness, honey, but you'se got it right down fine. Chuck de ossifer out, an' de scrimmage am ober; kase why? Kase dere ain't any mo' Massa Spy fur ter worry 'bout!"
A sigh of relief escaped from Sarah's lips. This way out of the difficulty seemed so simple and pleasant that she wondered why it had not occurred to her before.
"What window can he get through?" she asked eagerly, and Dorothy replied promptly:
"The one in my room looks out over the shed. If we had a piece of rope—"
"I'se got yo' dere, honey. I strung a line fur Missus day befo' yesterday, an' I'll fetch it in er shake."
He unbolted the outer door of the kitchen softly, and without waiting for any word of assent from Dorothy, disappeared in the darkness.
"It's more work to get rid of the officer than it was to find him," Sarah said with a sigh, and added as if for her own encouragement, "But there ain't so much about it to make us afraid."
"How glad father will be when he knows we've done exactly as he wanted us to." Dorothy said half to herself, for she had given no attention to Sarah's remark, so full was her mind of repairing the mischief which had been wrought through her.
"Here's des de figger," Scip whispered as he re-entered the kitchen, holding a long length of clothes-line. "Dis yere's gwin ter do de business for de Britisher!"
"Come up-stairs at once, or father will be angry because we are so slow," Dorothy said, and there was no thought in her mind but that she was doing exactly that which her parents had virtually commanded.
Softly, but rapidly, Dorothy led the way, Sarah following immediately behind, and Scipio bringing up the rear. Not until arriving in the attic did she halt, and then it was that she might whisper cautiously:
"I'd better speak to him first, for the poor dear spy might be frightened and fire off his pistol at us, if he didn't know who was here."
"Don' fool away de time wid talkin'," the old darkey said nervously. "Dis yere ain't any place fur story-tellin', an' I'se 'spectin' to see er whole drove ob ghosts flickerin' 'roun' afore long."
Sarah trembled. Until this moment she had given no heed to the fact that they were in the darkness; but now a great fear began to creep over her.
Dorothy was not disposed to linger, for she believed her father was anxious that the work be done quickly, and, kneeling by the side of the chest, which was found after much groping around, she whispered loudly:
"Master Oakman, it is me—Dorothy. Sarah is here too, and Scip has come with the clothes-line. Do you hear me?"
"Yes, child," came in a muffled tone from the inside of the chest.
"Shall I open the lid?"
"Certainly."
Dorothy pushed into the lock the key she had been holding in her hand since the moment of receiving her father's supposed commands, and when it was possible the lieutenant sat upright.
"What shall I do?" he asked, and Dorothy replied:
"Father is terribly fussed because you are here, and wants you to escape. If we let you out of the back window can you get to your soldiers?"
"Is the house surrounded by those who chased me here?"
"Dey's done gone flowed away, sah," Scip hastened to say. "When Massa Dean raked 'em fore an' aft wid hard words, dey was mighty glad fur ter sneak off sudden-like."
"And Master Dean, the silversmith, one of the most rabid rebels in New York, is willing I shall escape?" Lieutenant Oakman said half to himself, finding it very difficult to understand such a condition of affairs.
"He done laid de blame on you fur not runnin' afore he got back," Scip replied readily, and Dorothy added:
"Both he and mother will feel better when you are out of the house."
"I can readily fancy that; but I supposed the only way they would be willing to rid themselves of me was by sending for the military authorities, and allowing them to attend to the case."
"But this is much the best way, sir."
"Indeed it is, my dear, according to my thinking; but that Jacob Dean should be of the same opinion surprises me greatly. What said Master Anthony Lamb to my being allowed to escape?"
"He held his peace, sir," Sarah replied; "but it is certain he agrees with Master Dean in everything."
"You should not stay here talking, sir, for the sooner you are with my lord Howe, the more sure will you be of seeing your children again," Dorothy said gravely. "Can you get away from the city, sir?"
"Unless those who chased me are in the immediate vicinity. A boat should be waiting for me at a certain point on the river; the time set for its arrival was midnight," Lieutenant Oakman replied carelessly, so overwhelmed by the supposed fact that Masters Dean and Lamb would agree to his escape as to give little heed to anything else.
"Will you follow us, sir, and please do not make any noise?" Dorothy whispered as she took him by the hand, and Scip, eager to be out of such a promising place for ghosts as was the attic, urged the little company on so rapidly that there was danger all would fall headlong down the steep stairs.
At a rear window on the next floor, in the room where she usually slept, Dorothy halted, and the old darkey raised the sash as he gave the spy one end of the clothes-line.
"Take hol' ob dat, sah, an' I'se gwine fur ter let yo' down han' ober han'."
"What is below?"
"De shed, sah; but it ain't more'n six feet high. Des slide down de roof."
Lieutenant Oakman threw one leg over the window-sill, and then stopped to say a parting word:
"My dear little maids," and he took Dorothy and Sarah by the hands, "you saved my life when the majority of the good people in this city would have enjoyed seeing me hanged by the neck. My own dear girls shall know, if I live to see them again, that two little ladies, out of the kindness of their dear hearts, made possible the meeting between us, and every night they shall pray to the good God that He will ever have you in His holy keeping. As for myself, I hope it may be my good fortune, when the war cloud has blown away, to show how deeply I hold myself in your debt. Will you kiss me, my dears?"
With his arms around their necks he leaned over and pressed his lips to theirs, whispering a "God bless you" as he did so.
"You won't come back and try to do the people any harm through what you have spied out, will you?" Dorothy asked pleadingly.
"My little Mistress Dean, let me tell you this for your peace of mind, and that your father may not repent having shown mercy when an enemy was in his power: I have learned nothing that was not already known to General Howe. An American officer recognized me when I would have entered Fraunce's tavern, and since that time I have had my hands full with trying to keep clear of the mob. I shall be obliged to come here with my regiment, for I have sworn to do my duty by his majesty; but never more as a spy, and, it may be, that when the king's troops are quartered in New York, as speedily they will be, I can make some friendly return to your father for this night's work."
Having thus spoken he swung himself clear of the window-ledge; Scip braced himself to hold the strain on the rope to the end that it might not slip through his hands too quickly, and Lieutenant Fitzroy Oakman, of his majesty's Forty-fourth foot, was lowered gently to the roof of the shed.
Once there he stood erect for an instant to wave adieu to Dorothy and Sarah, and as they leaned far out over the sill, the little maids saw him leap lightly to the ground, where he was speedly swallowed up by the shadows.
"I'se done gwine ter put dis yere line whar I foun' it," Scip said as he carefully reeled in the rope, and Dorothy, thinking only of the pleasing fact that her spy had at least one more chance for life, embraced Sarah fervently.
"How glad everybody will be now that he has gone without making any trouble!" she exclaimed.
"Are you going to tell at once what we have done?" Sarah asked.
"There will be no need of our speaking, for when we went out of the room both father and mother must have known that we would do as they wished. I'll just look into the living room so they may understand it's all over, and then we'll sit in the kitchen until you are ready to go home. Scip shall light a candle, and it will be real cosy there."
While speaking Dorothy was leading the way down-stairs, arriving at the lower floor just as Scip, having replaced the clothes-line, entered the room.
"I 'spects dat yere job am been done proper," he said in a tone of satisfaction. "De Britisher am gone widout trubblin' yer folks, an' we'se comin' out'er de scrape a heap sight better dan I reckoned on one spell."
Then the old darkey, in obedience to Dorothy's request, set about striking a spark from the flint to the cotton, and while he was thus engaged, for the task sometimes proved a long one, the occupants of the kitchen were startled by hearing the hum of many voices from the square.
"Oh dear, can it be that those wicked men have caught our spy?" Dorothy cried in alarm; but old Scip quickly reassured her.
"Ef dey'd gone cotched de Britisher, honey, you wouldn't be hearin' any sich littly noise as dat; but it would be a great big yellin' an' screechin' fit to kill."
Before young Mistress Lamb could speak again, a voice cried loudly, as some one pounded vigorously on the outer door:
"We have come for one more search. Master Dean, an' it behooves you to give us speedy entry, without so many harsh words as we were treated to before!"
"We did the work for father just in time!" Dorothy said triumphantly, as she opened the door leading to the living room.