"Anyhow, that was when she first began to feel uneasy, and as if things had changed in the house and she was not altogether safe there. But the climax came when one stormy winter day she and Madame Mortier were driving home along Greenwich road and saw ahead of them a coach whose wheel had come off and whose horses were snorting and kicking with fright. The driver could seem to do nothing with them. Alison got out, rushed to the horses, and held them steady till they quieted down. She knew horses well and just how to treat them. Then, while the wheel was being adjusted, she spoke to the occupant of the coach, who proved to be none other than Lady Washington!
"She was traveling through the city on her way from Virginia to her husband's camp outside Boston when the accident happened. She congratulated Alison on her skill with horses, and asked her about herself. Alison was just beginning to tell her about Bermuda and how she longed to go back, when Madame Mortier, who had just learned about the occupant of the broken coach, rushed up and dragged her bodily away! And then things got worse and worse!
"Now, there's no need of telling you all that happened after that because we know it; so I'll skip at once to the night of that last entry in the journal, and explain how it came to be so mysteriously broken off. While Alison was sitting there writing, she suddenly heard again the mysterious footsteps, just as she had that time before. She was horribly nervous, but she suspected something wrong and crept to the door and opened it to peep out. And there, sure enough, was the steward, come back from Corbie's tavern, and evidently going down to the cellar again! Alison was scared to death, but, almost unconsciously, she found herself creeping after him, her journal still in her hand.
"Suddenly on the stairs something made him turn—and he saw her! Before she could cry out he made one leap and clapped his hand over her mouth. Then with the other he tried to get hold of the journal. She began to struggle and twist, and try to keep it away from him, and he whispered that if she made a sound he would kill her right there! Still she kept struggling, but at last he got hold of it and gave it a wrench. Of course it came in half, and at the same moment she got free from him and ran like mad to her own room and locked herself in.
"She hid the half of the journal she had kept hold of in the bottom of her trunk, and stayed for hours shivering with fright and listening at the door. Then, at last, not hearing anything more, she crept out, and rushed to Phœbe's room, and told her all about it. They decided that it was best to wait no longer, but tell the whole thing to Washington at early dawn, and let him take matters into his own hands. They had the interview, and Washington acted on the matter at once. He got his life-guard, Thomas Hickey, made him confess the whole thing, and then sent out and had every one of the conspirators arrested. Strangely enough, the steward was nowhere to be found. He had disappeared completely, and was never seen or heard of again. He had probably thought it wise to take flight in the night. Alison always thought, too, that he was intending to run away when he did, anyhow, without warning any one, because he had appropriated a lot of the gold and money that was to be used in paying the conspirators. That was what he had kept hidden in the beam, and he had removed it all that very night, preparatory to making off with it.
"Early that morning, Washington sent Phœbe back to the city to stay with her father, as she would be safer there. And as he thought the house no longer a safe place for his wife, either, he arranged to despatch her at once with a strong escort to Philadelphia. Alison had told him her own story, explained how she aided in the gunpowder plot, and begged him to send her back to Bermuda if he could. He was so grateful to her for the assistance which she had twice given that he told her he would send her to Philadelphia with Lady Washington, and there would arrange that she should sail for her home as soon as was possible.
"So Alison packed her little trunk, and without even bidding Madame Mortier good-by (for of course she didn't dare see her) she left that morning with Lady Washington, and never again in all her life looked upon Richmond Hill. In Philadelphia she was fortunate enough to catch a vessel sailing at once for Bermuda, but before she got to her home one other accident was to happen to her. The ship ran into a terrific storm and was completely dismasted. It almost foundered, but, after drifting around helplessly for more than a week, the passengers and crew were at last rescued by another vessel, leaving all their belongings behind on the wreck, and finally were landed in Bermuda.
"She went straight to her aunt first, for she did not dare go to her grandfather, thinking he had never forgiven her for running away. But her aunt told her that her grandfather, though terribly angry with her at first, was now very, very ill, and kept constantly calling for her. So she returned to him and was forgiven, and nursed him tenderly till he died, leaving her the fine old farm. A few years later she married Harrington Ord, for he had always admired and loved her. He died, in later years, by falling from the mast of the vessel of which he was captain, and Alison was left alone with one daughter, who also married, after a time, and it was her daughter, old Mrs. Jewell, who told us the story. Alison lived all her life in secret terror lest her part in the gunpowder plot should ever be discovered by the Bermudians, for she felt that she had been disloyal to her country in the part she played. Yet she never wholly regretted it, because of the intense admiration she always felt for Washington, and her gratitude to him for his timely rescue of her. Madame Mortier died soon after her departure, and never knew about the defeat of her beloved Tories.
"So that is the end of the story, folks, and I guess I've explained everything!"