“Why, she is actually playing at cards!” cried Betty, who was secretly on the lookout, for the opposite shutters had not been closed nor the curtains drawn, so the inmates of the lighted room were in plain view. “Lord Cornwallis is her partner, but that Captain Barry sits beside her and whispers behind her cards. Mary Singleton is at the other table, but I do not see—” her voice trailed off into silence, for she never mentioned Eustace’s name to her mother.
Meanwhile Joscelyn was all unconscious and unmindful of this surveillance and, recovering from her fright, her spirits rose hourly until she had quite regained her accustomed manner. It was not until something after ten o’clock that an interruption befell their pleasure-taking. Then suddenly there came the sound of galloping hoofs down the stony street; many voices shouted and responded, a pistol shot rang out, and from somewhere under the darkness a guttural drum growled out its warning. Every man in the room was on his feet in an instant, and hands snatched for hats and weapons.
“It is a night surprise!” cried a dozen voices; but even at that moment the door was thrown open, and an orderly, bowing low, cried out to the general that the noise was being made by his own men, who had turned a spy back from the mountains, and chased him into the town where he was as a rat in a trap, and must immediately be taken. Every heart in the room ceased its mad beating with relief at this news—every heart but one. Joscelyn could feel hers pounding against her ribs, and involuntarily she moved to the window and looked at the dark house opposite, shuddering as she thought of the grief so soon to enter there.
In ten minutes the hue and cry had swept down the street, and only faint echoes came back upon the wind. The whole town was astir, and Joscelyn’s guests lingered a few minutes on the veranda, questioning those who came and went.
“Yes, he went straight down this street, riding like one possessed,” said one man to Barry.
“He has quit his horse, and the guard have captured it,” cried out a messenger a moment later.
“Ah, well; then will they soon have the man too, even though they search every house, barn, and hen-coop in the town; Colonel Tarleton does nothing by halves,” laughed his lordship. “Come, Mistress Cheshire, let us back to our game; ere we end it, the fellow will be in the toils.”
They went slowly back into the house, Joscelyn striving to steady her nerves by long, deep breaths; but as they drew their chairs again about the tables, there came from the story above a crash as of breaking chinaware. Everybody looked up expectant, and Mistress Cheshire rose.
“I will go,” cried Joscelyn, glad to escape, and pushing her mother gently back into her chair. “’Tis no doubt that troublesome cat again; he broke one of my flower jars last week.” She tripped upstairs, calling back to his lordship to deal and have the hands ready for she would be absent only a moment.