“I arrived some days ago, but was scarcely in a state to pay my respects. I am out for the first time to-day.”
“It is not a very good day, either. I am so very, very sorry to hear of your wound,” said Lettice, looking her compassion.
They had reached the hotel by this time. Mr. Baldwin pushed open the door and ushered her into the hall. How well she remembered the place, and that night of rejoicing over victory. Now the triumphant British were entering the city, and the little army of militia was scattered. She remembered Mrs. Madison, as she stood there, the centre of attraction. Now she, too, was a refugee. She had time for no further reflections, for Mr. Baldwin returned with a cup of milk and a couple of slices of bread with some cold meat.
“This is not very inviting,” he said, “but it was all I could get, and it will stay you. Shall I carry the milk over to your friends, and will you rest here till they are ready to go on?”
“No, I will go too. How good of you to get this,” she added gratefully.
They arrived before the little group waiting by the wagon, to find that Simon persisted that he could not carry the load, for the vehicle was weak anyhow, and might break down any minute, even if partly unloaded. “It would be perfectly safe for any one to stay here, don’t you think so?” Lettice asked Mr. Baldwin.
“Yes, I think it would; at least for the present,” was the answer.
“Then I will be the one to stay. I can go to some friend’s here, or I could even go back to the house. I heard that ever so many families were simply going to lock and bar themselves in, and would not leave. Brother William will be there, and he would look out for me. Please go on without me, Patsey. I am sure the Ingles will take me in. I heard little Mary say that they were not going to leave.” And after much protesting against all this, by Patsey and Mrs. Gittings, it was decided that they would go on, and that Lettice should seek such shelter as she could find.
“You are very brave,” Mr. Baldwin remarked, as they stood watching the wagon slowly creaking along over the bridge. “But I remember it is not the first time I have seen evidences of your courage. Now, we must find you quarters,” he added.
“I should best like to return to Mrs. Gittings’s house.”