HOW RUTH MASON'S BEGUILEMENT SERVED WASHINGTON.

New Zealand Tablet, Volume XIX, Issue 50, 18 September 1891, Page 23

HOW RUTH MASON'S BEGUILEMENT SERVED WASHIN G TON.

(By E. J Edwabds in the Philadelphia Press.) On an afternoon in August, of the year 1781, a trooper, who wore the uniform of King George 111., sat astride a horse on the turnpike from New York, just beyond tbe Harlem, and had so placed the animal that its body barricaded the passage. The beast stood patient, but the heat of tbe summer sun seemed almost to overpower him and his head hung down as though etupor had overcome him. The trooper, although he sat upright and seemed to be going off towards the waters of Long Island Sound, yet gave the start of one who wakes from sleep of a sudden, for a call came to him and he looked here and there, not spying at first the person who thus called to him : 11 Hi, there, trooper man, may I pass the heel? or the head of your horse, for he stands across the road." Those were the words the trooper heard, and his eye being now guided by his ear he saw a head, whether of a man or a boy he could not distinguish, for nothing of the body but the head could he see because of the bramble bushes. When the trooper saw the face, then there came the glance of surprise upon his own countenance, and he said : " What bloody head is that I see ? Come out of the bush ?' " 'Tis very pleasant blood, for it is the juice of the berries that has smeared my face as I have eaten them. They grow in plenty here and a fine thing for thirst are they. 'Tis better to pick and eat them than to sit like a statue on tbe beast," '' How can I pick berries, being stationed here on guard ?" "On guard I That is silly thing, for who goes up and down the highway who C3n do any harm to the King's army ?" " Not a soul have I seen this two hours till I set my eyes on ycur face ana you gave me a sc*re, youngster, for I thought you were murdered." " Well, now, how happens it if you see no one that you Btay here so patiently ?" " The colonel and the aides are beyond and here I stop till they come." 11 Beyond I what is there beyond that the colonel should go there ? " " 'Tis said there are two pretty maids, aod that one is the sweetheart of a young fellow who is a spy of Washington, and the colonel will kill two birds with one stone maybe, for he will catch the spy and win the maid. He has a keen eye for a maid who has beauty." "It must be the Widow Mason's girls." The youth in the brambles thus spoke as though uttering half in surprise a thought which came to him. A moment later he came from the busies and then the trooper saw that not only the face but the hands of the lad were etained with the juice of blackberries, and that he carried on one arm a basket well filled with the fruit. " Give me a hatful of berries and you shall have a penny," said he. " A peony ! Sixpence would be cheap for them, because 'tis a torture to pick them, the briars are so sharp." " A penny is all I have," and the trooper looked yearningly at the berries. •Til give you half a hatful for a penny," Baid the lad, and he poured out the measure, and when the trooper took bis hat he saw that it was well filled, and bo greedy was he that be began to eat, and forgot the lad, who passed by the boree, stopping for a moment to give the beast a whisp of clover. The youth strolled on with leisurely step, stopping now and then, like a careless lad, to pick some berries, and shying a stone or two at the birds upon the trees ; but when he reached a bend in the road there came a change over him that was marvellous to behold. He stepped with the manner of one who is pursued into the thicket, and with such rapid gait that he seemed almost to run as he passed along a path so slight that it was little more than a trail. At laet he approached a clearing, and then his step Blackened, and when he came to a little clump of cedars, then he paused, and entering the grove he uttered a cry like that of a beast of the field.

A moment later he saw a maiden come from the bouse in the distance. She approached like one who seeks the cows in the pasture, for she now and then called " Moolly, Moolly," and she carried a pail of oats, as thongh to tempt the beasts from their grazing. Soon again she called thus, " Moolly," and then in lower tones, " Edmund, Edmund, stay till I come ! Kuth has sent me." '■ Come quickly, Martha," the young man said. The girl tamed ioto the woods and from that direction came to the young man and when she saw him, then her face became pale. "What is it that frightens you, Edmund?" she said, speaking pleadingly, as though she would soothe him. " Are the officers at the house?" he asked, not otherwise answering her. " They came two hours ago, and Ruth and I have been courteous to them to keep them, because we feared they might meet yon on the road if they went away sooner. Ruth bade me come when we heard your call and tell you to wait here till they were gone." " Martha, my little sister," he Bald, and his voice was tremulous and tears were in his eyes. " When you wed Ruth then I shall be truly your sister," she said, marveling a little that he called her sister then. He took her to his arms and he said : "You will return my kiss, Martha, will you not, (or perhaps I may not come back again for a long time." He turned his head away that she might not see the emotion that was mastering him, The girl trembled a little, for Bhe perceived that some danger was at hand, and she looked up at him with a sad smile, and said : " Surely, it is a sister's right," and she returned his greeting of affection. " Now, Martha," said he, striving to speak pleasingly, "go quickly back to Ruth and tell her to meet me at the old oak, as soon as she can come." The i?irl looked again pleadingly at him for some explanation of his strange manner, bnt he said no more, and she knew his heart was full of Rome sorrow or some dread. He watched her as she went back, calling again gently to the cows, and he said to himself, " If it was so hard to part with her, what will the parting with Rath ba ?" and his agony convulsed his face. When the girl had entered the house, Edmund went back to the woods, and heeding neither path nor trail passed through the thicket until he came to the oak grove near the brook, which runs into trie Bronx. His quick ear beard the clatter of distant hoofs and he threw himself prone on the ground. None too soon was he for concealment, for a moment later there rode by an English officer with two aidt 8 and Edmund heard him say, " they are the sweetest rebel blossoms my eyes have seen since I came to New York," and the young man then knew that the officers spoke of Ruth an 'l her sister Martha. When the officer had passed out of sight the young man went to the brook and bathed his face, and they stood beneath the oak, watching with the eagerness of love. Soon she for whom he waited came and he embraced her with such tenderness as she had never known from him. " The officers are gone," she said, speaking with joy. " I think they came looking for you, bat they were most properly courteous to Martha and to me.' 1 He did not speak for a moment, bat instead looked at her so strangely that the maid was rilled with amazsment. "Edmund, Edmund," she said, and her voice was very sweet and tender, " why do you look at ma so strangely ? Are you in peril or was I unthinking when I was courteous to the officer. Surely I did it so that they might not meet you on tne highway going back." He took her hands in his and gave her such a glance of tenderness as was a perfect revelation of the love he bore her and he said, speaking like one who tells a dream, " It is the same fair face that seemed to me, when I wbb a lad, too beautiful to be a child's, and so when in the meeting house, I üßed to hear the preacher speak of the angels in heaven, the face of the angel seemed to me to be that of little Ruth ; and when I used to see these eyes and the light that was in them, then I would think, ' More beautiful than anything that is or ever was, is Ruth's glance as she bestows it on me," and when I saw this rippling and soft hair falling about the forehead like the tendrils of a vine. I used to say, "What gentler or more exquisite softness can there be than this bair which has the colour of thecloudd at sunset ;' and so, wherever I was. wherever I am, I see ever this fair face that I thought was to be with me while I lived." She had crept closer to him as he spoke, and at last had placed her head against his shoulder and looked up at him loviogly as he spoke these woads, and when he was done she said : " And did I not rejoice to receive those glances which you sent to me when I was a child ; was I not glad to know as you grew strong that your strength was for me, and that it became tenderness when I was near ; and when I saw a great and noble tree did I not use to say, ' you are like my Edmund ;' and when I heard the brook at nigbt as it ran over tha stones beneath the window, did it not always seem to say to me in

tbe tones of my Edmund's voice. ' Ruth, dear Bath, darling ; Ruth, dear Bath, dtrling.' " Fora moment neither spoke, but he foldpd his arms about her and kissed her, and as he did so she perceived that his tears were falling. " Why, Edmund, tears 1 I never saw you cry before." "My love overwhelms me, Ruth," said he, and then he knew that he could not permit her to share the agony of parting. " Tbe officers alarmed me," he said ; " I trembled for you and for myself ; it's over now." " They asked me about you," she said. 11 And you — what did you say ?" " 'Twas a very little falsehood ; I said I had not seen you for a long time ; they thought I meant for many days, but hours was my real meaning. Did Ido wrong to entertain them ?" "Nay, Ruth," he said; and .'then he added, "Had you kept them there for days instead of hours it would prove a blessing." " That is a strange saving," said she. " I mean, that if they were kept busy with frivolous things for days just now, 'twould be a vast benefit to the General and the army." " What general ?" " Ours, Ruth," and he spoke so solemnly, that she knew he thought cf Washington. " They said they might return to-morrow," said she. " They said that ?" ha spoke with some excitement. "Then if they do, tell them this, that you have seen me, and that I say that Washington's army is coming soon toward New York, to fight them. She smiled, and said she would tell him that, and would try to frighten them, because she would say great things about the number of men there were in the army of Washington. " Now, Ruth," said he, " good-bye." He spoke almost sternly. " What, must you go ? Come home with me, Edmund, come home." His passion caused him almost to stagger, and she thought he stumbled and she supported him. He took her hand again and he said, " I must take a message to Washington to-night," and once more be kissed her and then almost abruptly departed. The girl stood silent for a moment and she thought, " Ab, some danger of war has overcome him. When will it We over ?" But he in bis agony was saying, as be rushed through the woods, " My darling, they know me for a spy now, and they will catch me and will hang me by and by." And, in bis misery, he seized and crushed great branches, and though his hands were cut he did not feel tfce wounds.

11. The dusk had fallen when Edmund approached a pasture at least ten miles from the place where ha had parted with Ruth. He had walked with the energy which his mission and his misery as well had given him, He leaned over the bars of the pasture and called "Dolly, Dolly," and a moment later he heard the whinnying of his mare which came running up to him. In a moment a saddle, brought from some place where it had been secreted, and a bridle were put upon the horse, and Edmund leaped upon its back and said to the creature, " Dolly, Dolly, we have thirty miles to ride, and we must do it within three hourß." It seems as though there was human intelligence in the animal, for she lifted her head and, with one great bound, started upon the journey.

The August moon was just rising and threw a great flood of light upon the railway, while the shadows of the trees which lined the road were black and distinct as those cast at mid-day. The silence cf the night was broken by the clatter of the animal's hoofs, and so, for many moments, Edmund rode with what seemed almost the speed of the wind. At last, he said, spying in the distance a cottage, " That is Brown's house, Dolly, and we have come ten miles ; it must be in less than an hour by the moon. There'll be a bag of oats for you by and bye, my beauty,' and the animal lifted her head again as though encouraged and put greater speed into her hoofs. For another hour he rode as though pursued, and the clatter of the hoofs awoke resounding echoes through the defiles that the highway passed between, and by and bye he saw in the distance the outlines of the turnpike gate, and he raised a cry, uttering it three times. But as there was no response from the house, he bade the mare take the gate, and with one mighty leap she cleared it just as the gate keeper emerged from the house.

Edmund turned his head and again uttered the cry, and when the gatekeeper heard it he responded in kind, for he then knew who it was and that some mission of great consequences was urging Edmund thus on the road to Washington's headquarters that evening. For another hour the noble beast and the rider went ahead with unelackening speed, and the flanks of the animal were covered with foam and the nostrils showed pink with the labour of her breathing, but 6ho flinched not, nor faltered. They came up a stretch wtiich reveled the waters of the Hudson, glistening in the moonlight, and here Edmund fur the first time, cautioned the steed to slacken her face. Be said, " Whoa, Dolly ; we shall meet the Bentioel soon."

The mare understood him well, for she came to a gentle canter, and a moment later a voice by the roadside called : " Halt I " When the sentinel Baw Edmund, for the moonlight made his countenance visible, he greeted him by name, bat demanded the countersign . " I bave not the countersign, said Edmund, • but I have that which is better,' and he took from a secret place in the saddle a paper, and when the sentinel had read, be bade Edmund pass within the line. In ten minutes Edmund was in the camp of Washington's army, and an orderly was bearing a message to the Commander-in-chief. But not until the faithful Dolly had been well cared for, did Edmund hold himself in readiness to respond to the commands of Washington. As for himself, he bad neither eaten nor swallowed so much as a cup of water, nor would he until the business which he had was finished. The orderly led him by and by into the presence of the commander. In the little room was saated with Washington an officer whose manner betrayed the breeding which comes from education in a foreign court, and there was a younger man whom Washington called ' Colonel Hamilton,' who extended his band most courteously to Edmund and said to him : "Captain Lathrop, we are rejoiced to see you," and he led Edmund to Washington, who extended his hand with that grave dignity which was his most impressive mannerism, and yet he smiled a pleasant greeting to the young man, " You have come from below, Captain Lathrop,' said Washington, " and I judge from your manner that you have news of consequence to tell us. You may speak freely here." Ab Edmund stood before the Commander-in-chief, he revealed the perfect soldier. He was of tall and sinewy form, and though his countenance was youthful, his manner was most dignified and his bearing impressive. Had the trooper who met him in the afternoon set eyes upon him then he would have been amazed that he could have thought this man a careless, berry-picking lad. " I have been in New York and near by for three weeks," Edmund began, " and I have learned much, borne of my messages you must have received." Here Washington bowed to intimate that Edmund's surmise was correct. " General Clinton," Edmund continued, " is now firmly convinced that it is our purpose to give him battle somewhere between here and the Harlem River. 1 have done some things which confirm that impression. I have caused reports to be spread among our friends, which have been carried to him, that you will soon make a movement in that direction." Here Oolonel Hamilton and the Count de Rochambeau approached near to Edmund, that they might catch every word that he uttered. Edmund continued thus : " Clinton's main reliance for information is upon Colonel Matthews and his aides and subordinates, who are patrolling the regions near the Bronx. This vdry afternoon they called at the house of dear friends of mine, and to-morrow they will be there again, and they will then be told that your army is to move upon New York. If Colonel Matthews can be thus deceived, he will continue to deceive General Clinton, and you will be free to take such action as seems wise to you in the belief that General Clinton has misjudged your movements. Here Wa-hington took Edmund's hand and he said, speaking very gravely, " Captain Lathrop, when you agreed to leave your company and to enter upon this perilous service, you took your life in your hands aa you know. If you continue the service, which is of such inestimable importance to me and to our cause, you know the fate which may await you. But if you will continue it you may do us greater good than a regiment of men could do in battle." Edmund simply said, " Whatever ia your wish is my desire,' 1 and though he was tempted to say to Washington that his identity was known and that the risk was such thU the gallows most certainly awaited him in case he returned within the British lines, be restrained the impulse, for he felt that Washing' >i would not permit him to thus expose himself to almost certain For a moment the General stood a3 though absorbed in thought, and then he said to Edmund, "You will excuse me, Captain, if I retire with my friends for a few moments, for what I do must be decided quickly Will you take a glass of wine and a bit of bread 1 It is the best refreshment I can now offer you." Tha General and his subordinate commanders retired to an inner room, into which an orderly carried maps and the quartermaster came with his papers, and soon tbe heads of different divisions were there assembled, and for an hour or two Edmund could hear the low murmur of voices, and above all, the calm, yet almost imperious tones of Washington. At last an orderly summoned Edmund to the inner room, aud there he found Washington alone. The dignity of the commander was something to produce a feeling of awe and reverence, and thus Edmund was impressed. But tbe General spoke tenderly, gently, aa he said ; " Captain Lithrop, will you return to the country of the enemy, and will you endeavour to cause the idea to spread that I am to move with my army and to give battle or seek it

somewhere near the Harlem, within a week or ten days. Within that time, I shall send a brigade to make such demonstrations as will add to that conviction. Meanwhile, if you discover that General Clinton has a hint of real purpose, spare neither life nor energy to let the news be brought to me upon tbe instant. It is a perilous undertaking that I ask of you, but be comforted with the knowledge that if you succeed in doing these things it will probably be the last time that you will bd called upon to risk your life and to face an ignominious death. If my purposes succeed now, Captain Lathrop, I believe the war for the independence of thess people will end with a victory for us."

Here Washington took both of Edmund's hands in his and he said to him, for Edmund had replied to him by a single word of assent, " Go, then, Captain Lathrop, at once. If you live you may rejoice that you have contributed in no small measure to our success if we gain it. If you die, be reminded of that noble youth who said as he mounted the gallows, ' I only regret that 1 have but one life to give for my country.' "

Washington here gave him a pass and offered him money, but Edmund declined to receive any gold. Then for a moment there was further instruction in regard to minor details, and then the commander-in- chief with tender affection Dade the young soldier adieu.

in. Thiee weeks later, Captain Lathrop, then in the disguise of a farmer's helper, was approached by a friend who knew him well and who knew his hiding-places in the woods. Th« man had brought him food and drink, and he end to Edmund, "The skirmishers of Washington are coming from above, and there is confusion in the outposts of Clinton's army on that account." To this Edmund made no reply, but he said instead, " And of Ruth ? What have you learned of her ? Is Colonel Matthews and are the aides etill there 1 " The farmer hesitated. He seemed to dread to make reply. He averted his face, and Edmund, speaking with some passion, said to him, " Tell me, Jonathan, tell me all that you have heard." " They do say, Captain, that the Colonel's men have got track of you and that you will bs captured soon." " I do not care for that," and Edmund spoke with passion. "Tell me these things, does Colonel Matthews still believe that Washington is coming this way ? " "He does. He sends daily to General Clinton a message that all is safe, and that Washington is prepared to move Mb army in that direction.' ! " Why does not Colonel Matthews go himself to Clinton ? " 1 do not like to tell yon, Captain.' 1 " You must ; that is what I am bound to know, for if I do not learn it otherwise, 1 thall go to the house myself that I may discover." " No, no ; do not do that, Captain, they will capture you and hang you if you do. I will tell you what they say. They gay Colonel Matthews has becime bewitched by the beauty of Ruth, and that he is paying earnest court to her." For a moment Edmund did not speak, but a last, his lips trembling and very white, he said : " And Ruth ? How does she receive such courtship ? " " Ah, Captain, that is what I do not want to say." " You mußt tell me." " Well, I myself caw Rath, and she seemed to be most pleased with the attentions, and bir smile was a joyous one, and her eyes were merry, and ehe returned some lemark of gallantry which he maie to her in kind.' 1 At tLia moment there came to this secret haunt a youth, a messenger, whose face was bo smeared with dirt and dust that his countenance was scarcely recognisable, so that Edmund did not know him until he spoke. " What, Tbomas, is it you 1 " he said. " Where have you come from ? " "I was told to give you this," the young man eaid, aari be handed to Edmund a bit of paper, and when Edmund read it he was rejoiced. It was a message from Washington bidding him returo and join his regiment in the Virginias. The lad told his story briefly. He said that Washington, by meanß of deceit which kept Clinton in darkness of Washington's plan, bad escaped with his army acroßS the Hudson, across New Jersey, and was about to embark, when the lad left the army, on the Chesapeake for Yorktown. The commander had made Mb escape, be had befoolrd Clinton. Edmund at once removed his disguise. He said to his friend, Jonathan, that all danger was now averted, and that his mission was ended. He had done his part in enabling Washington thus to escape the watchful eye of Clinton with his army, and he declared it to be his purpoßO to go at once to Kuth. So it happened that just as the sun was setting on that afternoon, Edward entered the little garden by way of the apple orchard that stood to the east of Butb's home.

As he passed through the orchard he heard a voice which caused him to stop, and a moment later Ruth and Colonel Matthews came along the path which skirted tbe orchard. They did not see him, though he made no effort to conceal himself. Then he heard the British officer pouring words of love and affection in the ear of his affianced, and it seemed for the moment as though he had murder in his heart. What he would have done who can tell, but he heard the voice of Ruth speaking sadly and plaintively, and she said : " Ah Colonel Matthews, did yon not see that it was all pleasantry ? You say 1 had no right thus to deceive you, but why did you come here seeking to capture and kill my betrothed ? You say that all is fair in love and war, and if that be true, then it was fair for me to be coquettish with you, for my betrothed told me, on the day be left me to join the army, that if I would only keep you here for many days, 'twould be a blessing to Washington and to oar army, and it was because he told me that that I have played the coquettish part with you. The British Colonel seemed for an instant to be b aside himself with rage, and he spoke low, but violently.so that the girl became most greatly frightened, and in her distress, not knowing what she said , she called aloud saying, Edmund, Edmund, help me I" and behold, even as che called, there stood her betrothed before her. He took her in his arms and then, turning to Matthews, said : " It is true what this dear woman has said." " Are you the spy ?" the Colonel said. " I am an officer of the Continental army." ■' You are a spy, for whom we have long looked, and I will call my men, and you shall dangle at the gallows to-morrow." Then, pausing fora moment, he said: "If this maiden will renounce you and will promise me her hand, then I will turn my back so that you may escape." Edmund turned smilingly to Ruth, and said to her, " Bath, it shall be as you say ; this man can send me to the gallows to morrow. Will you renounce me for him, and thus save me from that ignominy f For an instant she did not speak, and then she said, her face very white, " If I renounced him I should die, and if you hanged him I should die, therefore how can I renounce him, and what would you gain if you hanged him ?" The Colonel looked with amazement upon these two and then a moment later be spoke and his voice was so choken with emotion that he could hardly utter the words : "By heaven 1 Was there ever such affection as this ? By my love for you, Ruth, I recall my ugly words. No act of mine shall imperil your lover. How better can I show my own affection for you ?" WheD he said thesa words, Edmund, releasiog Ruth, went to him and took his band, and he then said. " Colonel Matthews, for the service which you have now done me, I will do you another. Had you captured me, I could have exposed you to your general. I could have shown him that by your dalliance here, Washington has been enabled to escape with his army and that while you seemed to be upon duty, you were really imperiling your own army, because you were beguiled by this fair woman. But now I will say no word excepting this. General Washington has escaped you ; his army is now upon the Chesapeake and will be in a day or two at Yorktown • You may take this message to Clinton, so that it will appear to him that you have besa faithful to your duty and have gleaned this information in your own way." The officer seemed like one stunned. " Washington escaped ! Will be at Yorktown I 'Tis incredible." " But 'tis true," said Edmund. Then the offiaer took Ruth by the hand, but without saying one word he embraced her gently, and then departed, and, calling his aides and escort to him, in a moment their horses were carrying them to New York with this faithful message which Edmund had given him. Two days later General Clinton had set sail from New York for tbe Chesapeake on his fruitless errand, for the capture of Cornwallis had already been accomplished. That evening, after Ruth had told Edmund all those things which she desired to say to him, she said : " Poor Martha I My sister loved this colonel and he did not know it. Why could he not have wooed her instead of me, for he is a man of gentle heart end high honour." But it so happened when the war was over that Colonel Matthews, returned to New York, made himself the discovery of which Ruth had spoken, so that one day Captain Lathrop and Colonel Matthews became of kin through marriage, for Martha was wooed and won by this officer.