The Tory Maid | Page 3

lost in the deeper shadows of the overhanging
forest.
"There rolls the Elk," cried Dick. "Only ten miles more, and a stroke
upon a piece of paper, and then, my boy, you are done for. A pain that
eats its way ever inward, a thirst that never slackens, and over all the
black night lowering down. Aye, so it is, Sir Monk of the Long Face;
but we will have some fun before we are put under the sod or our bones
are left to whiten on the sands."
"That we will, Sir Richard. And now we are in for it, for here comes
our first adventure. Is she ugly or is she fair? Which, Sir Richard?"
For, as we reached the point where our road joins the river road, we
saw, approaching along the lower road, a gentleman riding on a
powerful horse, while behind him on a pillion sat a slight girlish figure,
hidden in part by the broad shoulders of the rider.
"By Jove, it is Gordon of the Braes," said Dick.
"What, the suspected Tory?"
"Yes; and that must be his daughter. They say she is the fairest lass in
all the county of Cecil."
"Tory or no Tory," said I, "with a fair face at stake, I will speak to
him."
They were as yet some distance off, but as the rider drew nearer to us

we saw that he was a splendid specimen of manhood, such as I had but
seldom seen before.
While strong of frame and above the medium height, he carried himself
and rode with a courtliness and ease that bespoke the accomplished
horseman and gentleman. His splendid head and face showed the marks
of an adventurous career, and all bespoke the blood of the family from
which he had sprung, the Gordons of Avochie.
But striking as was the figure of the rider, the glimpse we caught of the
fair burden behind made us for the moment forget him.
A slender figure it was that sat upon the pillion, with wonderful eyes of
the darkest blue and hair of the deepest brown that waved and clustered
around the temples--a mouth that was winsome and sweet, a small and
aristocratic nose, a chin that was slightly determined, giving her
altogether a queenly air, as she sat so straight and prim behind her
father.
"Sir," said I, making Toby advance and bowing to his mane, "as we are
travelling the same way, will you permit us to accompany you? My
friend is Richard Ringgold of Hunting Field and I am James Frisby of
Fairlee."
"It will give me pleasure," he replied, saluting courteously, "to have
your company to the Head of Elk. I know your families and your
houses well, and you, no doubt, have heard of me, Charles Gordon of
the Braes."
"That we have," said Dick Ringgold. "It was only a week ago that my
mother spoke of your first coming to old Kent."
"It was kind of her to remember me," he replied. "She was a great belle
and a beauty in her youth."
Dick smiled with pleasure, and I, taking advantage of a narrow place in
the road, fell behind, and rode so I could talk to Mistress Jean, much to
Master Richard's secret indignation. But she received me with a show

of displeasure, and though I courteously asked her of her journey, it
was some minutes before I knew the cause thereof.
"Are you not," said she, and her aristocratic little head was in the air,
"afraid to be seen riding with suspected Tories, you who wear the black
cockade?"
And then I remembered that I wore the emblem of our party.
"Afraid!" I replied. "Afraid! We who have bearded the Ministers of the
Crown in the broad light of day? Do you think I am afraid of our own
men? Why, if Mistress North herself were half as fair as your ladyship
of the Braes, I would ride with her through all the armies of the patriots,
and no man would dare say me nay."
A merry twinkle came into her eyes. "Would you wear the red cockade
if she should ask you?"
"Ah, Mistress Jean, would you seduce me from my allegiance to the
cause of the patriots?"
"To the cause of the patriots? What of your allegiance to the King?"
"But the King himself has broken that, and forced us in self-defence to
take up arms in revolt. Would you have me true to my people, or to the
King, who is over the sea?"
"To the King," she answered promptly, "for the King's Ministers may
be bad men to-day and good to-morrow, but if you once strike a blow
at the mother country and win, then the ties of love, of friendship, and
of interest