Here Comes a Candle (36 page)

“
But why should we believe him? It
’
s a bluff, Mr. Hillingford, to keep us from looking for them here in Washington. I suppose presently there will be another offer—as if from the English camp. I tell you, we must lose no time
...”

“
I wish I could agree with you.
”
He was humoring her now.
“
But it all seems logical enough.
”

“
No!
”
Explosively.
“
You say the letter came this morning? It
’
s just not possible. Think a little, Mr. Hillingford. Charles Manningham came back from here last night. We were in a house up Rock Creek—it was deserted: not a soul for miles. There was no
thin
g I could do. Or so I thought. I
’
ve blamed myself since; but what
’
s the use of that? Anyway, he went into Washington yesterday and came back last night, furious. He had had a letter from Jonathan—from Mr. Penrose—saying he would pay up, when Sarah was safe back. I didn
’
t know what it said about me. Of course Manningham didn
’
t tell me that. He
’
d never have trusted me. He didn
’
t trust Mr. Penrose either. He said he was a Yankee; they were notorious
...
he and Arabella argued—I heard them; they were furious.
”
She looked at him pitifully.
“
I
’
d been such a fool, Mr. Hillingford. I took it for granted Jonathan would pay up on the spot. That as soon as Manningham got in touch with him, Sarah and I would be able to go back. When I realized
...
when I began to think about getting away, it was too late. I was just at the door
...
he caught me ... he had a pistol. Oh God, I
’
ve been such a fool. But you see,
”
she made herself come back to the important point,
“
they had expected him to pay up too. They had no plans made, up to last night, for joining the enemy.
”
How odd to be calling the English that.
“
And out there we did not even know where the armies were. Can they have managed it so soon? Must it not have been a bluff? Besides, I can
’
t imagine Arabella taking the risk of crossing the lines. I expect that is what they were arguing about.
”

“
That
’
s just what I said.
”
At last he seemed to be coming round.
“
Not Arabella; not a chance like that. But Jonathan was beyond reason, beyond discussion. He was exhausted, of course. He
’
d been out at Bladensburg since Saturday, helping with the works there—not enough sleep; not enough to eat. And that
’
s terrible business, too, he says. Do you know that when the militia were called out Saturday morning, half of them had neither uniform nor weapons? Some even had no shoes! And no order, no sense of discipline
...
Jonathan only came away because of the letter.
”

“
With all those lies. And he believed them?
”

“
I
’
m afraid so. I
’
m very much
afraid he
’
s gone back to get killed, Mrs. Croston.
”

She was on her feet.
“
We must find him. At once.
”

“
Not tonight, I
’
m afraid. No, listen! It
’
s just not possible. Not in the dark. But it
’
s not so bad as you think.
I made him promise he
’
d send word in the morning where he would be, just in case there was another message from Manningham. The last one came here, you see, by Jonathan
’
s instructions. You didn
’
t know that?
”

“
No. They told me nothing. That
’
s why it took me so long to find you. It was the purest luck ... Oh God! if I had only got here earlier! But, Mr. Hillingford, if we can
’
t get in touch with Jonathan tonight, at least we can make a start at looking for Sarah. They must be staying in town: I
’
m more and more sure of it.
”

“
You may well be right But that too will have to wait till morning. A moment
’
s thought, and you
’
ll agree with me. We haven
’
t the strength, either of us, for anything more tonight; but even if we had, what could we do? Wake up a lot of hotel keepers, with the town in
t
he kind of panic it is, and try to take a child away from her own mother? Just think about it, Mrs. Croston.
”

“
You
’
re right, of course.
”
She sank wearily back into her chair.
“
I kept thinking, today, that even if I should find them, there
’
d be nothing I could do. Not without Jon—Mr. Penrose. But at least I know a lot of places where they
’
re not.
”

“
Yes. I
’
m afraid, for tonight, that must be our comfort. And now, it
’
s late and you
’
re exhausted. Let me show you to your room. It
’
s not luxurious, I
’
m afraid, but at least you will be safe. I hope.
”

S
EVENTEEN

Kate woke to the sound of bugles alarmingly near. Fantastic to have slept. She was out of bed in a bound. Cold water; shaking hands; it seemed hours before she was dressed; in fact it was only minutes. Downstairs, she found Mr. Hillingford in the dining room, a cup of tea untasted on the table. He looked older than ever this morning, fragile, paper-white, a straw in a gale. And all the hope she had.

“
Good morning, Mrs. Croston.
”
He rose shakily and managed a travesty of a smile.
“
I
’
d have had you called before now, but Jonathan
’
s message has only just come. It
’
s not good news, I
’
m afraid.
”
He pulled out a chair for her.
“
No,
”
he forestalled her protest.
“
We
’
ll do nothing till you
’
ve had your breakfast. You
’
ll be no use to yourself, or anyone else, if you collapse for lack of food.
”

There was such obvious sense in this that she submitted with as good a grace as possible as he rang and gave his orders.
“
But the message?
”
she asked at last.

“
Merely that he
’
d still be at Bladensburg this morning.
I think he expects a battle. At all events, he says if I need to, I should be able to get in touch with him through General Stansbury of the Maryland Militia.
”

“
Oh, thank God! I was afraid you did not know where he was.
”
Her first bite of food made her realize that she was famished, and she fell to with a will on hot bread and scrapple.

“
We know where he is.
”
His cup rattled in the saucer as he put it down.
“
But what
’
s the use of that? I
’
ve no one to send, Mrs. Croston. My man
’
s out with the militia. I had meant to ride out myself, but this morning I know I
’
m not up to it.
”

“
Of course not.
”
It was obviously true.
“
But
”
—here, at last, was a ray of hope—
“
you mean you have a horse? That I can ride?
”

“
You?
”

“
Why not? There
’
s nothing else to be done. I confess I had not looked forward to having to walk it: four miles is it not? And in those panic conditions. But on horseback I shall do admirably. Have you, by any miracle, a sidesaddle?
”

“
Oh yes. There
’
s an old one of my wife
’
s somewhere in the stable. But, Mrs. Croston, I can
’
t let you—
”

“
You must. Consider, Mr. Hillingford, even if we should find Sarah, we can do nothing without her father. Besides—I must see him. If there
’
s really going to be a battle. You said—he wanted to be killed. I have to see him. To tell him—
”
She stopped. Tell
him
what?

Hillingford
’
s faded old eyes missed nothing, but they were wonderfully kind.
“
Do you
think
it
’
s wise, Mrs. Croston?
”

“
I must,
”
she said.
“
You
’
re a good friend of Jonathan
’
s I can tell.
”
She had given up trying to call him Mr. Penrose.
“
Don
’
t worry. I know it
’
s impossible
...
hopeless
...
I
’
ve made up my mind. I
’
m going to ask him to let me take Sarah away, look after her. I won
’
t see him again; not after today. But today I must.
”
Tears choked her.
“
If I can only find
him
in time. Tell
him
there
’
s hope.
”

“
Hope?
”
There was something rut
h
less about the dry, lawyer
’
s question, and yet she was sure he meant it kindly.

“
For Sarah,
”
she explained.
“
If he knew we were together, were happy.
”
She managed a travesty of a smile.
“
Thought we were happy. I
’
d do my best.
”

“
I
’
m sure you would.
”
His voice was friendly now.
“
But—just the same—I don
’
t see how I can allow you to take the risk of riding to Bladensburg today.
”

“
Oh, risk!
”
Impatiently.
“
Surely you must see I
’
m beyond caring about that?
”

In the end, inevitably, Hillingford agreed that she should ride out to fetch Jonathan while he set his housekeeper to work making inquir
i
es for Manningham
’
s party at the hotels Kate had not visited the day before. Even the housekeeper, unwilling enough at first to venture out into the streets—
“
they were bad enough when I came this morning, and that
’
s the truth
”
—yielded at last to Kate
’
s persuasions.
“
Well
”
—she was tying the strings of a formidable black poke bonnet under her chin—
“
I reckon we can
’
t stand by and let a child suffer.
”
She picked up a huge umbrella fit for use either as weapon or parasol.
“
And
i
f I meet that Mr. Manningham I promise you I
’
ll give him a piece of my mind. But I want a promise from you, sir,
”
she turned on Mr. Hillingford,
“
that you won
’
t budge from this house all day. You look like death this morning, and I
’
d be no friend not to tell you so.
”

He smiled his shaky smile.
“
I promise. Besides, it makes sense. I must stay here to co-ordinate your movements.
”

“
My oh my.
”
She pulled on black mittens.
“
You make us sound just like an army.
”

“
I wish we were one,
”
said Kate.

Half an hour later she was riding across lots on a narrow path, which, Mr. Hillingford had told her, would bring her out on the Bladensburg road well beyond the Capitol.
“
At least that way you will not have to ride through the village,
”
he had said,
“
but I wish I was sure I do right in letting you go. Supposing there really is a battle? I
’
ll never forgive myself if any harm comes to you.
”

“
And I
’
d never forgive myself if I didn
’
t go.
”
Safe in the saddle, Kate had smiled at him reassuringly.
“
I promise you, we
’
ll do splendidly, Sampson and I.
”
Luckily Sampson was elderly like his master and of a placid disposition, so that even after being shut up in his stable for the duration of the panic he started out soberly enough under the unfamiliar sidesaddle.
“
Don
’
t hurry him,
”
Mr. H
il
lingford had said,
“
and he
’
ll go all day
.
”
Much though she wanted to, she did not dare hurry. There was no knowing what she mi
gh
t have to ask of Sampson before the day was over. She must favor him now. So they went demurely across lots, with time for Kate to notice, here and there, a flash of scarlet in the undergrowth that spoke of autumn on the way. She passed several houses with closed shutters, and one where the people were busy loading their possessions into a small wagon.
“
Hey!
”
shouted the father.
“
You
’
re going the wrong way.
”

“
I know.
”
She pulled up Sampson for a moment.
“
What
’
s the news this morning?
”

“
Terrible. The redcoats were camped at Woodyard last night. Only eight miles from Bladensburg! And all Winder does is retreat to the Navy Yard—and talk! But there
’ll
be a battle today just the same, and if you keep going that-a-way, you
’
ll likely be mixed up in it.
”

“
I can
’
t help that. I
’
ve an errand. To Bladensburg.
”

He shrugged.
“
You
’
re crazy.
”
And went on piling bundles in the wagon.

But at least she had confirmed that she was on the right road. She pushed on, ignoring heat and flies, and was soon rewarded by a view of the Capitol, now well behind her as she turned onto the main road. Little more than a country lane, it was crowded with militiamen in various stages of uniform, all making their disorganized way toward Bladensburg. From time to time a
family
wagon piled high with furniture, carpetbags, and children came pushing through in the other direction, but most of the houses she passed seemed to be already deserted. Coming out, at last, on the bare green hill above Bladensburg, she saw the village silent and empty on the far side of the river, while on the slope below her everything was bustle and confusion. Men were still working on the new entrenchments that scarred the meadows; here and there a gun was in position already, with its complement of weary-looking militiamen around it. She stopped beside a group who were boiling a kettle on a small fire and noticed with amazement that they were wearing winter uniform and sweating miserably in the hot sun.
“
General Stansbury?
”
One of them looked up in response to her question.
“
God knows. Over there somewheres last time I seed him.
”
And then, taking her in.
“
What the hell are you doing here, ma
’
am? Don
’
t you know there
’
s going to be a battle?
”

“
But not yet, surely?
”
The confusion all around her lent point to her remark.

“
I hope to God not.
”

He looked deathly ill, she thought, and she leaned down to ask,
“
What
’
s the matter? You don
’
t look well.
”

“
Well!
”
He laughed hysterically.
“
We
’
re all sick as dogs—spoiled rations for three
days, and a false alarm last night kept us at arms till daybreak. We
’
re sick all right. Not but what we
’
ll give the redcoats a warm welcome when they show up, but if I were you, I
’
d be on my way, and quick.
”

“
I will, when I
’
ve found General Stansbury.
”

“
Well, it
’
s your funeral. Try over there, ma
’
am; by that ba
rn
.
”

It was noon now; the sun blazed down; Sampson
’
s coat was dark with sweat. No wonder if the toiling soldiers looked exhausted. More men were arriving all the time, and being directed here and there by officers on horseback. One of these rode up to her.
“
You
’
d best be going, ma
’
am. Any minute now, the British will come into sight over there
”
—he pointed beyond the village, with its white-painted church and deceptive Sabbath air of calm.
“
And half our army still on its way from Washington! God, what a mismanaged business,
”
he was talking to himself. Then he remembered her.
“
What are you doing here, anyway?
”

“
Looking for General Stansbury.
”

“
He
’
s over there, but—
”