Headquarters, 14 June, 1782.
Dear Miss Janice,—In writing this I but act as Mrs. Washington’s scribe, she having an invincible dislike to the use of a pen. She hopes and begs that you will favour us with the honour of your company for a time at Headquarters, and to this I would add my own persuasions were I not sure that hers will count above mine. However, let me say that it will be a personal gratification to me if you give us now the pleasure I have several times counted upon in the past. Thinking to make more certain of your granting this request, and that you may make the journey without discomfort, Mrs. Washington sends her coach.
I most sincerely regretted not seeing you at Yorktown, the more that Lord Cornwallis assured me when he dined with me on the evening after the surrender, that he would secure your presence at the banquet he tendered to the French and American officers; but I was still more grieved when told the reason for your refusal to grace the occasion by your presence. The sudden sickness of poor Mr. Custis, which compelled me to hasten away from York, and the affecting circumstance of his untimely death threw Mrs. Washington and Mrs. Bassett, who were both present, into such deep distress that I could not find it in my heart to leave Eltham, once the funeral rites were performed. The Marquis has since assured me that nothing was neglected which could be of comfort or service to your mother, and I trust that he speaks informedly. I have just learned of your loss, and hasten to tender you both Mrs. Washington’s and my own sympathy on this melancholy occasion.
Be assured that your company will truly gratify both me and the partner of all my Domestic enjoyments, and that I am, my dear young lady, with every sentiment of respect and esteem,
Yr most obedt hble servt
Go Washington.
“’T is the very thing I’d have for ye, Jan,” exclaimed the squire.
“Oh, dadda, I’ll not leave you.”
“That ye shall, for I’ll be busy with this scheme of Bagby’s, and the tavern is no place for ye, child, let alone what ye’ll be forever dwelling on if ye have no distraction.”
“An’ his Excellency,” said the messenger, “done tell me to say dat he done holds you’ parole ob honour, an’ dat, if you doan’ come back with me in de coach, he done send de provost gyard to fotch youse under arrest. What ’s mo, Miss, dat big villin, Blueskin, will be powerful joyed to see youse again.”
LXIV
A SETTLING OF OLD SCORES
On a night of the most intense darkness a strange-looking craft was stealing slowly up the Raritan, quite as much helped in its progress by the flood-tide as by the silent stroke of the oars, about which were wound cloths where they rubbed against the thole-pins. The rowers knelt on the bottom of the boat, so that nothing but their heads projected above the gunwale, which set low in the water, and to which were tied branches of trees, concealing it so completely that at ten feet distance on any ordinarily clear night it would have been difficult to know that it was not a drifting limb.
Lying at full length in the bottom of the boat were two men, one of whom from time to time moved impatiently.