Just then the young man at the piano struck up the notes of "Rule Britannia," which was caught up at once by all the red-coated gentlemen present, as if the very words were a sweet morsel under their tongues. It ended at last with a crash, and Dexie gave a sigh of relief when she saw the piano stool vacant.
But Mr. Gurney was making his way towards her, and, bending over her, said in a low voice:
"Will you favor the company with some music, Miss Dexie? I have often listened to some very enchanting strains from your fingers."
"Well, I think I can play something that will be quite as enchanting as that we have just listened to," Dexie replied. "I don't believe that piece was ever meant to be sung inside four walls, and those officers shout as if they intended to raise the roof. I am afraid my playing will seem very tame after all that bluster," she laughingly added.
"No fear of that," said Mr. Gurney, smiling. "Try and see if you cannot beat them at their own game."
Dexie looked up quickly, and caught his meaning, and as she crossed the room her thoughts were flying through her brain, trying to bring to mind some song that would answer those "red-coated braggarts." A smile came to her lips, as memory served her. Yes, she could sing something that was quite as musical as "Rule Britannia," anyway, and echo the praise of her own land as well. So when she passed her father she whispered:
"Give me the help of your best bass in the chorus;" and bending over Gussie, who was listening to the remarks of a many-striped officer, who was standing near her chair, she said in a low tone: "Give me your help this once, Gussie, and let your alto be heard clear to the citadel."
Seating herself at the piano, she struck a few chords, and then her rich, ringing voice, with every word clear and distinct, sounded through the room:
"Of all the mighty nations in the east or in the west,
Our glorious Yankee nation is the brightest and the best;
We have room for all creation, and our banner is unfurled
With a cordial invitation to the people of the world.
So, come along, come along; make no delay;
Come from every nation; come from every way.
The land it is broad enough; you need not be alarmed,
For Uncle Sam has land enough to give you all a farm."
An amused look passed over the faces of those present as the sentiments of the singer reached their ears, and Plaisted said, half aloud: