“I can carry a bucket of water,” said the young man, smiling down at her.
“And ask no reward?” she said in a whisper.
He turned around and looked at her searchingly, so that a soft pink overspread her face. “Would you give it?” he whispered back. Then he bit his lip and turned away before she could answer, leaving her half abashed at her own words, and half sorry that she had let him go.
She ran out of the gate to her good neighbors and found them rejoicing at the departure of the enemy, but still in alarm lest the surrounding fires should break forth and destroy the dwellings still standing. However, many willing hands were ready to stifle the rising flames, and forlorn, miserable, wretched-looking as the poor little city appeared, its season of trial was over.
The despoiled capital was a poor abiding-place, but as soon as Patsey and her sister returned, they urged Lettice to stay, rather than to go back to Baltimore, whither her brother was bent on hurrying; for it was said that General Ross had his eyes turned upon that place. “And they will not come here again, for they have taken all there was to take. Bad as it is, there is one consolation—if there is one place above another that is absolutely safe, it is Washington,” said Patsey. “You would better stay with us, Lettice; I should think you had seen about enough of this war.”
But Lettice shook her head. “It is dreadful to think of anything happening to Betty and the baby, and my brother will be there. I must stick by my family through thick and thin.” And she set forth, to arrive in Baltimore, there to find every one apprehensive of an attack from the British.
Betty hugged and kissed her, and declared it was dreadful to think of the scenes she had witnessed; and then she ran to her husband and cuddled in his arms, putting her hand over his lips when he attempted to tell her of the defeat. “I won’t hear it,” she cried. “I don’t care if they all did run. I’d a thousand times rather that, than to have you brought home to me dead or wounded. I am tremendously thankful you didn’t give them a chance to shoot you. I am so thankful that I cannot consider anything else.”
“I believe I agree with you,” Lettice joined in. “What do you think of it, Aunt Martha?”
“I think he could do no less, under the circumstances. It was not his fault that there was a retreat, and he would have been foolish to stand up alone and defy the entire British army.” At which they all laughed and settled down composedly to hear Lettice’s story. Danny curled himself up in one corner, all alert for thrilling adventures, and Mrs. Flynn stood in the doorway, one hand on her hip and the other thoughtfully manipulating her chin as she listened.
“An’ now tell ’em your bit o’ news, ma’am,” she said, turning to Mrs. Tom Hopkins, when Lettice had finished her tale.