THE ROSE OF CHATHAM.

Fair Play, Volume I, Issue 19, 10 March 1894, Page 22

THE ROSE OF CHATHAM.

BY MAURICE THOMPSON.

J Continued ,]

Mr. Fenwicke, then one of the wealthiest citizens, and perhaps the very most influential one in Savannah, was known to the British authorities as a stanch and uncompromising friend to the home government, a man upon whom they could safely rely for both sympathy and material aid in any scheme to advance their interests. Of course there were other Tories in the city, all of them well known to Mr. Fenwicke, and the first thing Maynard did was to influence Fenwicke to call a secret meeting of these at his house.

The readers will now quickly understand why Rose forced her lover from the house; for at that very time the Tory meeting was in session in a back room. The gii’l’s good sense told her that if Lieut. Prescott should discover her father’s connection with a treasonable transaction it would be the young man’s duty to have him arrested forthwith, and the result might be most terrible, for just at that particular point in the progress of the revolutionary struggle the bitterest hatred of the Tories was nursed by the American soldiery.

Maynard disclosed to the little knot of Tories huddled in that closely blinded rear room that Lieut. Col. Archibald Campbell was then on his way from Sandy Hook with a fleet bearing an army sent by Sir Henry Clinton to take and occupy Savannah. Accidentally Rose overheard this, and became aware of what was going on. The mansion had been darkened to prevent visitors from dropping in, and all the proceedings of the conspirators were conducted with the utmost caution. Knowing that Lieut. Prescott was absent on picket or outpost duty, Rose had not dreamed of his coming, when suddenly his rap resounded on the door. One thought—that of preventing the young man from discovering her father’s connection with a plot for delivering the city over to the enemy—drove everything else from her head. When he was gone she stood just inside the door, her heart beating wildly and her brain reeling with the excitement of the occasion. At heart she was

an earnest rebel, thoroughly in sympathy with the struggle for independence; but she loved her father, and could not bear the thought of having him arrested as a Tory and a traitor. Now that he was safe for the time, the strain of the situation relaxed as suddenly as it. had come on and she was too weak to stand. She totteredto a table and set the lamp on it,

and then fell upon a sofa, nerveless and white as a ghost. It was but a few moments, however, that the weakness prevailed; her nature was strong and elastic, Wid her will was of the sort with which revolutionary women of the best stamp were endowed. Even in the moment when she was thrusting her lover from the door the resolve was forming itself, under her consciousness, so to say, that, if she could prevent it, Savannah should not be betrayed and her gates opened to the British.

Maynard had left the house but a few minutes before Lieut. Prescott knocked. Indeed it had seemed to Rose that the former must have been at the gate when the latter entered. She wondered if this were so, and if the lieutenant would suspect what had been going on. One by one the conspirators left the house and went their way. What they had determined upon is not known, save that some plan was agreed to which Maynard regarded as of .probable value in aid of Lieut. Col. Archibald Campbell’s project for taking the city.

All were gone, and the Fenwicke household were on the point of retiring when Maynard suddenly returned gashed and bleeding from a long, deep wound across the side of his handsome face. “A confounded rebel officer,” he said, “ran against me just out yonder. Fetch a surgeon as soon as possible or I shall bleed to death.” Servants were called. “Be careful in this matter,” Maynard managed to murmur before he reeled into a chair. “Remember that there is danger if I am suspected—danger for you all. Don’t get a —a —reb—rebel surgeon,” he gasped, “but be—be quick!” The blood was flowing freely, saturating his clothes. He was as white as a dead man. The household was alarmed in two ways, for Maynard appeared about to die, and that of itself was terrible. Beyond this lay the danger of having a British spy in the house, which was the greatest of all crimes just then. There was no time for hesitation, however. A servant went posthaste in search of a surgeon, while others bore Maynard up to a secluded room and put him to bed with a bandage round his face.

The wound proved not so bad after all. “He will be himself again in less than a fortnight.” said the surgeon, after dressing the gash. “Duel, I presume,” he added, sotto voce, to Mr. Fenwicke at the door on talcing his leave. “These young men are such idots.” “To be sure.” responded the old man, glad to clutch at such an explanation. “To be sure, and 1 suppose they always will be. We were young ouce, doctor.” Meanwhile Lieut. Prescott lay where Maynard left him, cold and senseless, his sword under him and one arm outstretched along tb; sand. Slowly the

fog lifted and was blown away, giving" place to a broad shimmer of moonlight that emphasized the dark walls and gloomy nooks of the straggling town, and made the stillness and silence seem projected like substantial, tangible parts of the scene. p

CHAPTER ID.

Doubtless it is impossible at this time to look back and understand with any degree of realization the peculiar situation in which Rose Fenwicke found herself when she had sufficiently recovered from the evening’s excitement to take a somewhat calm , view of what had transpired. In the seclusion of her chamber she thought it all over, with the rapidly growing impression that it was her duty to go straightway to the headquarters of the little American garrison and make known to the commanding officer the plot being arranged to betray the city. But as often as she turned this in her mind the connection of her father with the treasonable affair startled her and made any disclosure appear impossible. She slept none that night. Indeed she scarcely thought of sleep. Her nerves were wrought to high tension and her whole nature was absorbed in the consideration of a plan for balking Maynard and 'his allies. Strange that it should have been nearly the last hour of the night before a thought, which might (under a less strain of excitement) have been suggested at once by Maynard’s remark, came upon her mind with almost stunning suddenness. The wounded man upon entering the house had said that he had been hurt by a rebel officer. Why had she not thought of Prescott? It was so plain now that it was he who cut that gash. They must have met in the street and fought there. Instantly the dreadful question arose, Was Lieut. Prescott hurt? Then she remembered that she.had heard two

pistol shots ring out clear and keen through the foggy night air. Her heart stopped short for awhile, .to presently leap into her throat with almost suffocating throhs. With that swift and vivid readiness common to young and imaginative minds, her fancy pictured her lover lying

dead with upturned face in the moonlight. A cold chill crept over her and her limbs shook as with an ague. Loud and clear the cocks i.l the back court crowed out the hour of dawn. She sprang up, threw on her clothes and passed out into the street. As if by some unerring intuition she went directly to the spot where Prescott and Maynard had fought. There were deep marks of the struggle in the sand, and some streaks and dashes of blood were visible in the gray chill morning glimmer. She looked about, her eyes scanning as best they could tlib surrounding space; then came a great relief—a sense of escape from a burden of horrible dread. A drum rolled out the morning call at the little American camp. With but a moment’s hesitation she went swiftly on in the direction of the sound, and was soon face to face with the sentinel in front of the officers’ quarters. “I wish to see Gen. Howe,” she said, abruptly.

The sentinel called the officer of the guard, a corporal, who came forward in a moment.

“Well, madam," he demanded, doffing his well worn cap, “what is it you wish?”

“I must see Gen. Howe.”

“Sorry I am that he’s not here, madam, but he is not. He is at the Tatnall mansion.”

“Then could 1 see th§ next officer in charge?”

“Col. Huger is here, madam.” “Tell him 1 have something important to say to him.” Leaving her with the sentinel the corporal turned about and walked away. In a few minutes he came back, and bidding her follow led the way to a small house surrounded by tents. Col. Huger, who had just risen and hastily dressed himself, received her in a small, plainly furnished room which was well saturated with the fumes of tobacco. He was very polite and kind in his manner, but at first did not recognize her. “It is because 1 could not help it that I have come here,” she hurriedly began. “There is a plot to betray the city into the enemy’s hands. A fleet is already on the -way here from Sandy Hook, and there is now in Savannah an emissary of the British going about among the Tories."

The colonel recognized her while she was speaking, and the slightest shade of perplexity gathered on his eyes. She was beautiful,and her embarrassment heightened the effect of her face.

“You are Miss Fenwicke, I believe,” he said, with grave courtesy. She ngdded and the color slipped out

of her cheeks. “How have you learned what you tell me?” he inquired, fixing his eyes steadily upon hers.

She shrank and looked down, but presently her native courage asserted itself. She returned his gaze steadily with clear, innocent eyes, while the rosy flush came slowly up into her face again. “You must not insist upon that question,” she answered; “for 1 cannot tell you. You may be sure that I have it from the directest channel of information. The British will land to-morrow or the next day.” She arose to go.

“And the emissary, who is he and where is he?” demanded the colonel.

“I cannot tell you.” { “You must!” “I will not.”

The colonel’s face relaxed almost to a smile.

“Very well,” he said. “Sergeant, take a carriage and drive this lady to her home.”

A young red headed officer came out of an adjoining room and bowed.

, “Get a carnage,” repeated the colonel, and when the man was gone he turned to Rose and said:

“It is scarcely possible that your information is reliable, but 1 will honor it, coming from you. I am surprised that you bring it to us, but 1 am all the more proud of your patriotism.” She knew that he was thinking of her father and connecting him with the conspiracy.

“How strong is the force of tho British reported to be?” lie inquired after a few seconds of silence, “and who commanded?”

“It is a strong force under Lieut.-Col. Archibald Campbell and Commodore Parker.”

“When did it sail from. Sandy Hook?” “On the 27th of November.”

“Did you hear what troops they have?”

“The Seventy-first regiment of foot, four battalions of Provincials, two of Hessians and a detachment of artillery.” He looked at her in surprise. Her memory seemed absolutely clear and ready. Somehow the sincerity and dignity of her bearing and the extreme beauty of her face gave singular force to her statements. He knew that her father was a bitter Tory; at least that was the well grounded belief of everybody, and it seemed strange, indeed, that this, his only child, should come as the bearer of such information.

Of course the colonel’s first thought ■was the suspicion that Mr. Fenwicke must be deeply concerned in the conspiracy.

I The sergeant had returned at this moment and was standing uncovered in the doorway, his red hair shining and his freckled face beaming with good nature. * “The carriage is ready, CoL Huger,”

he said, saluting. Rose, after bidding the colonel good morning, turned and followed the sergeant, who gallantly handed her into the carriage and bade the negro driver follow her directions.

Before reaching the Fenwioke manJion Rose ordered the driver to stop the vehicle, and she got out to finish the distance on foot, not wishing any of tho household to see her in Col. Huger’s carriage, which would be sure to provoko awkward inquiries. Fortunately neither her going out nor her coming in was observed, nnd she made her way to her room, where she flung herself down exhausted, soon falling asleep. No sooner was Roso gone from his presence than Col. Hugor ordered his horse and galloped to tho Tatnall residence to see Geu. Howo and advise him f what she had told. Tho goneral dis-

missed the matter with n few words, saying curtly that ho placed no reliance in a story which on its fnce was simply preposterous.

“How could an emissary outstrip a fleet?” he inquired. "If the British sailed from Sandy Hook .last month how could this supposed spy know it? Don’t you see how utterly ridiculous tho whole thing is?”

Col. Huger had come flushed u trifle with the effect produced by Rose’s noble bearing and bewitching face. Ho went back but half convinced that the goneral was right in giving no heed to hor warning,

One, two, three days, a week, two weeks went by without any apparition of a British fleet. The general had not unfrequently laughed at Col, Huger about his belief in the story of the old Tory’s daughter, and the colonel in tarn had come to look back to the singular little affair as something inexplicable. Lieut. Prescott, after lying some days at the house of a friend who had chanced to And him and take him in, recovered from the stunning bruises received from the brutal kicks of the giant Maynard, and returned to camp before the expiration of his release from duty. T>< hr r ntinuod.)