CIRCUMSTANCES FAVOR TYRREL's INFLUENCE OVER LINDSAY.
The discourse between Lindsay and Tyrrel was one of deep moment. Tyrrel had taken advantage of the pervading fervor which the late successes of the British arms had diffused amongst the adherents of the royal cause, in behalf of what was deemed their certain triumph, to urge forward his own views. This was the occasion of his present unexpected visit at the Dove Cote. His immediate aim was to plunge Lindsay into the contest, by forcing him to take some step that should so commit him, in the opinion of the republican government, as to leave him no chance of retreat, nor the means longer to enjoy the privileges of his late neutrality. He, unhappily, found Lindsay in a mood to favor this intrigue. The increasing anxieties of that gentleman's mind, his domestic griefs, his peculiar temperament, and the warmth of his political animosities, all stimulated him to the thought of some active participation in the struggle. Tyrrel had sufficient penetration to perceive that such was likely to be the current of Lindsay's feelings, and he had by frequent letters administered to this result.
There were several opulent families in the lower sections of the state, who still clung to the cause of the King, and who had been patiently awaiting the course of events, for the time when they might more boldly avow themselves. With the heads of these families Tyrrel had been in active correspondence, and it was now his design which under the sanction of the British leaders, he had already nearly matured, to bring these individuals together into a secret council, that they might act in concert, and strengthen themselves by mutual alliance. Immediately after the battle of Camden, it is known that Cornwallis had laid his plans for the invasion of North Carolina, by intrigues of the same kind: it was only extending the system a little in advance to apply it to Virginia. Arrangements had been made for this meeting of malcontents to be held at the house of a Mr. Stanhope, on one of the lower sections of the James river—a gentleman of good repute, with whom Lindsay had long been in the relations of close friendship.
"The moments are precious, and you are waited for," said Tyrrel, in the course of his conference with Lindsay; "we must strike whilst the iron is hot. Separated as our good friends are from each other, you are now in the power, and at the mercy—which is a significant phrase—of the unruly government of Congress. Your motions, therefore, should be prompt. There are seasons, in the history of every trouble, when the virtue of deliberation mainly lies in its rapidity and the boldness of its resolve. I beseech you, sir, to regard this as such a season, and to take the course which the honor of our sovereign demands, without further pause to think of consequences."
"When you were here a month ago," replied Lindsay, "I had my scruples. But things have strangely altered in that short interval. Your standard floats more bravely over the path of invasion than I had deemed it possible. You charged me then with being a laggard, and, you may remember, even impeached my loyalty."
"I did you a grievous wrong, my dear friend; and did I not know your generous nature pardoned, as soon as it was uttered, my rash and intemperate speech, it would have cost me many a pang of remorse. Even in this, good sir," said Tyrrel, smiling and laying his hand upon Lindsay's shoulder; "even in this, you see how necessary is it that we should have a wise and considerate councillor to moderate the ungoverned zeal of us younger men."
"My mind is made up," replied Lindsay. "I will attend the meeting."
"And Mildred will be removed forthwith to Charleston?" eagerly interrupted Tyrrel.
"Ah, sir, not one word of that. If I attend this meeting, it must be in secret. Nor do I yet commit myself to its resolves. I shall be a listener only. I would learn what my compatriots think, reserving to myself the right to act. Even yet, I would purchase peace with many a sacrifice. I abjure all violent measures of offence."
"I am content," answered Tyrrel, "that you should hold yourself unpledged to any measures which your gravest and severest judgment does not approve. Though I little doubt that, from all quarters, you will hear such tidings as shall convince you that the road, both of safety and honor, leads onward in this glorious enterprise. 'Tis from this nettle danger, that we pluck the flower 'safety.' Conscious of this, I would have Mildred and her brother cared for."
"Mildred can never be yours," said Lindsay musing. "There is the thought that makes me pause. I believed, and so do you, that the favor this Butler had found with her was the capricious and changeful fancy of a girl. It is the devoted passion of a woman: it has grown to be her faith, her honor, her religion."
"Butler is a fool—a doomed madman," replied Tyrrel with earnestness. "He came here with the hellish purpose to betray you; and he was silly enough to think he could do so, and still win your daughter. She should be told of this."
"She has been told of it, and she believes it not."
"Was my avouch given to her for the truth of the fact."
"It was. And, to speak plainly to you, it has only made your name hateful to her ear."
"Then shall she have proof of it, which she cannot doubt. She shall have it in the recorded judgment of a court-martial, which has condemned him as a traitor and a spy; she shall have it in the doom of his death, and the sequestration of his estate," exclaimed Tyrrel with a bitter malignity, "proud girl!"
"Remember yourself, sir!" interrupted Lindsay, sternly. "This is not the language nor the tone fit for a father's ear, when the subject of it is his own daughter."
Tyrrel was instantly recalled to his self-possession; and with that humility which he could always assume when his own interest required it, spoke in a voice of sudden contrition.
"Why, what a fool am I to let my temper thus sway me! Humbly, most humbly, dear sir, do I entreat your forgiveness. I love your daughter, and revere the earnest enthusiasm of her nature; and, therefore, have been galled beyond my proper show of duty, to learn that she could discredit my word."
"I enjoin it upon you," said Lindsay, "that in your intercourse with my family here, you drop no word calculated to alarm my daughter for the safety of this Butler. It is a topic which distracts her, and must be avoided."
"For the present," replied Tyrrel, "as I have before told you, I think he is safe. The forfeiture of his estate is not a secret. But to business, my friend. When shall we set out?"
"To-morrow," answered Lindsay. "We must travel cautiously, and amongst our friends."
"This disguise has served me so far," said Tyrrel. "I may the better trust to it when in your company."
Mildred and Henry remained in the parlor, and were there when Lindsay and his guest, having terminated their secret conference, returned to the house.
"Your cheek denies your customary boast of good health, Miss Lindsay," said Tyrrel, respectfully approaching the lady, and with an air that seemed to indicate his expectation of a cold reception. "It grieves me to learn that, at a time when all good men are rejoicing in the prospect of peace, you should not be in a condition to share the common pleasure."
"I think there is small occasion for rejoicing in any quarter," replied Mildred, calmly.
"Miss Lindsay would, perhaps, be interested to hear," said Tyrrel, not discomfited by the evident aversion of the lady, "that I have, within a few days past, left the head-quarters of the British army, where I was enabled to glean some particulars of a friend of hers, Major Butler, of the Continental service."
Mildred colored, as she said in a faint voice, "He is my friend."
"He has been unfortunate," continued Tyrrel, "having fallen into the hands of some of our skirmishers. But I believe I may assure Miss Lindsay that he is both safe and well. He enjoys the reputation of being a brave gentleman. I may be permitted to say, that had his destiny brought him under other colors, I should have been proud to be better known to him."
"Major Butler chooses his own colors," said Henry, interposing. "I don't think destiny had much to do with it. He took his side because they wanted men to help out a brave war."
Lindsay frowned, and strode once or twice across the apartment, during which an embarrassing silence prevailed.
"You are the same cockerel you always were, Henry," said Tyrrel, with undaunted playfulness; "always warm for the fight. But it is a Christian duty, you know, to be peace-makers in such times as these. We may trust, Miss Lindsay, that some conciliatory spirit shall arise to quell the quarrelsome humors of the people, and bring all things back to tranquillity. For myself, I devoutly wish it."
"The day for such a spirit does not seem to be at hand," said Mildred, quietly rising to withdraw.
"You are not well, my daughter," interposed Lindsay. "Mildred is but recently from a sick bed," he continued, addressing Tyrrel, in the way of apology for her marked coldness of demeanor.
"I am not well, father," replied Mildred, "I must be permitted to leave you;" and she now retired.
When Henry soon afterwards joined her, he found her agitated and excited.
"Better known to Arthur Butler!" she exclaimed, dwelling on the speech of Tyrrel. "He is better known already than he dreams of. Think, brother, of the cool hypocrisy of this bold schemer—this secret disturber of the quiet of our house—that he should dare boast to me of Arthur's bravery."
"And to talk about his colors too!" said Henry. "Did you mark, sister, how I set him down—in spite of my father's presence? And did you see how his brow blanched when I spoke my mind to him? He will find me too hot a cockerel, as he calls me, to venture upon our colors again. I hold no terms with him, sister, more than yourself."
"You will excuse me to my father, Henry, I will not go in to dinner to-day."
"I wondered," replied Henry, "that you met him at all, sister; but he took us unawares. And, truly, I don't think it would be safe to bring you near him again. So I advise you, keep your room. As for me—tut! I am not afraid to meet him. I warrant he gets his own upon occasion!"
"I entreat you, Henry," said Mildred, "to guard your temper. It would give our father pain to hear a rash speech from you. It would answer no good end."
"I will be as circumspect, Mildred, as the state of the war requires," answered Henry. "Fight when it is necessary, and be silent when we can't strike."
Henry now left his sister and went to his usual occupations.
Mildred, in accordance with the purpose expressed to her brother did not appear at the dinner table; and the day was passed, by Lindsay and Tyrrel, in close communion over the topics connected with the object of the enterprise in which they were about to embark. Tyrrel had seen enough to convince him that he might, at least for the present, abandon all effort to win Mildred's good opinion; and his whole thoughts were now bent to bring Lindsay into such an attitude of hostility to the republican authorities as would inevitably lead to his removal from the state, and perhaps compel him to retire to England. Either of these events would operate to the advantage of the aspiring and selfish policy by which Tyrrel hoped to accomplish his object.
In the course of the evening Lindsay held a short interview with his children, in which he made known to them that affairs of importance were about to call him away, for a fortnight perhaps, from the Dove Cote. It was in vain that Mildred endeavored to turn him from his purpose, which, though undivulged to her, she conjectured to be, from its association with Tyrrel, some sinister political move, of which her father was to be the dupe.
In accordance with Lindsay's intimation, he and Tyrrel set out, at an early hour of the following day, on their journey towards the low country.