# Mistress Madcap/Chapter 16

PUT her down there on yon settle, Squire, where I have ye blankets piled!" beamed Mistress Livingston.
Squire Condit came slowly down the stairs carrying a very precious if a frail burden, while Mistress Condit and Mehitable followed. It was Charity's first day downstairs after an almost fatal attack of fever, induced by the hardships she had undergone in New York.
When the little invalid had been made comfortable before the fire, the others lingered for a moment. Mistress Condit turned to Mistress Nancy gratefully.
"Never will I forget how good you have been to us, Nancy," she whispered, the tears starting to her eyes.
"I know not what we should have done had ye not come to Newark that time Lieutenant Freeman brought Charity home! Not many strangers would have offered help as ye did!"
The girl blushed. "Nay, 'tis what any one would have done, dear Mistress Condit," she returned. "I was glad to come!"
They turned to hear what Squire Condit was saying to Mehitable.
"Master Jones reports that the 'Jersey Blues' have ​sent a man Into New York Town itself seeking Young Cy. 'Tis a hanging matter an he be caught——"
"Ahem!" Mistress Condit gave a warning cough and the blundering Squire glanced down to see Charity's wide eyes of horror fixed upon him. A moment later, however, she had drifted off into a doze and her parents hoped she had not grasped the Squire's meaning. She did not stir when, presently, the others having dispersed to their morning tasks, there came a thundering knock upon the door.
"Nancy!" called Mistress Condit softly from the table where she was kneading bread. "Canst answer the door? My hands be floury!
"Aye!" From the buttery, where she was helping Mehitable with the churning, the other came hurrying. After a little, Mistress Condit, busily thumping the great mass of dough before her, felt a draft from the open door.
"Who was it, Nancy?" she asked idly.
"Madam," began a deep voice, and Mistress Condit whirled around with a little cry to see General Washington standing there, with Mistress Nancy speechless from sheer surprise behind him. Beyond, through the open door, the rain slanted across the March-blown garden.
"Madam, I cry your pardon," began His Excellencv once more, as Mistress Nancy closed the door. "I have been riding since long before dawn and recalling your hospitality of some months ago, I ventured to stop again. My welcome may be the more assured when I tell you that your son is among my escort. I came on alone while they reconnoitered the neighborhood."
​"Indeed, Your Excellency needs no assurance"—Mistress Condit swept him a curtsey—"though I shall be glad to see my son!"
The general walked over to the fire, spreading his hands gratefully to its warmth. Noticing Charity asleep, he was careful to lower his voice, showing the unfailing courtesy which was characteristic of him.
"'Tis not so bitter as raw outside," he observed. "But these March gales up here in Jersey take one's vitality, methinks."
Suddenly the buttery door was thrown open impetuously and Mehitable, her dark curls tumbling from under her cap, her cheeks flushed crimson, appeared.
"Mother, who——" she commenced. Then, seeing the guest, she stopped and stared.
"'Tis General Washington," admonished Mistress Condit sharply, not well pleased at her daughter's awkwardness. But the great man held up his hand leniently, a grave smile dawning in his eyes.
"'Tis my little friend Angeline," he welcomed.
Mistress Condit had left the room, so Mehitable came forward shyly, dropping a belated curtsey. Then, as Mistress Nancy also departed and General Washington, with a weary sigh, seated himself, the young girl pointed to her sister.
"Dost see poor Cherry?" she asked in a whisper.
Nodding, with a few skillful questions, he was soon in possession of all the facts of Charity's abduction, Mehitable pouring it out in breathless, indignant words.
"And poor Young Cy—no one knows where he be imprisoned!" she finished sorrowfully. "His mother ​be lying at the point o' death for lack o' news of him!"
"'Tis indeed beyond endurance!" ejaculated General Washington, with flashing eyes. "The wretches who, in the name o' war, bring wanton injury upon the innocent, ought to be and shall be punished as felons!"
Mistress Nancy returned to the kitchen just as the door opened and a party of young officers entered hurriedly to escape the downpour. For a second she and the leader of the group stared at each other, then she gave ever so slight a shrug and looked proudly past him. John Condit's ruddy face, glowing from' his battle with the elements, deepened in color. He stood silent, but not for long. There was an exclamation of joy, another one, and both Mistress Condit and Mehitable had their arms around his neck.
"My son, my son!" Mistress Condit's eyes were full of joyful tears.
There was a brief interval of greetings, then John Condit turned and saluted his chief, who had risen and was waiting in grave silence.
"Your Excellency, from what we could gather, the roads are unwatched and it seems safe to move the supplies from Newark which have arrived by boat from Philadelphia."
"Very good, sir!" Washington bent his head in acquiescence. "It seems best to me, since you are familiar with this country," he continued, after a thoughtful pause, "that you be the one to ride to Newark and there notify the authorities in charge to move the supplies to Morristown as soon as possible. ​Stay," he smiled kindly, "best refresh yourself first with the dinner I see your mother is preparing for us."
Mistress Nancy's clear voice, as she conversed vivaciously with the other young officers who crowded around her eagerly, faltered a moment. Her back, turned toward John, looked haughty, however, and as he saluted his general he turned sadly away.
Mehitable, who had been watching Mistress Nancy in amazement, at once joined her brother.
"What be the matter with you, John?" she whispered.
"Nay, little sister, nothing is the matter save that I am stiff from my ride. He looked down at her humorously.
"I be so ancient, ye know."
"Yes, 'tis true, you are old," agreed Mehitable soberly.
John laughed. "Why, Hitty, twenty-three be not so old!" he protested.
"It seems pretty old," answered Mehitable. Twenty-three ever seems old to fifteen! And thirty! Oh dear!"
As they were eating the excellent meal Mistress Condit and Nancy had prepared, miraculously, it would seem, out of nothing, Amos entered to inform his mistress that Squire Condit had been called away. Soon afterward, John Condit left for Newark. Oddly enough, with his departure, Mistress Nancy's bright gayety vanished and she fell thoughtful. Then, while she fed Charity her dinner, she gazed often into the fire. General Washington, watching her as she sat oblivious to his presence near by, spoke at last.
"Such daydreams," he said, "can mean but one thing!"
​The girl turned with a start, covered with confusion.
"Why—Your Excellency—" Blushing, she popped the spoonful of milk she had been holding in mid-air into Charity's patient little mouth.
"Daydreams mean, ye know, that——" began the general teasingly. But at her imploring gesture he stopped. "Nay, I did not mean to be rude," he apologized. "'Tis my unseemly habit to like to watch people when they know it not. It is not fair to them, so I always apologize—and go on watching!"
Joining his amused chuckle, Mistress Nancy cast a cautious look over her shoulder. Mehitable, assisted by two of the officers, was washing the dishes. Mistress Condit was overseeing the task, watching her precious china rather anxiously. The rest of the general's staff were gathered about the windows, where they gazed out at the torrents of rain which blurred the panes and dripped dismally from the house roof.
"Your Excellency," said Mistress Nancy in a low voice, "think you this—this Newark mission be a—a—dangerous one?"
The general glanced at her smilingly, as though he had guessed a secret. Then, after the thoughtful pause which was habitual with him, for he was a man to weigh his statements, he answered her.
"Nay, my dear, I think not. We hold Newark, now, ye know."
"Aye, 'tis so," admitted Mistress Nancy. "Still——"
She was interrupted by a sharp exclamation from one of the officers at the window.
"Who comes there?" he cried, bending forward to ​peer through the baffling curtain of rain. For a moment tense listening held everyone motionless. Even Charity held her breath as she half started up from her settle.
General Washington turned toward the door, and at that instant it was unceremoniously thrown open. A dripping, streaming figure was revealed upon the threshold. Mistress Condit, who had slipped forward, uttered an astonished cry as the newcomer threw back the wet hood which concealed her face.
"Why, Miranda, what doth bring you out this dreadful day?"
Miranda Briggs swayed forward where she stood. "I've—be—been running all the way!" she gasped. And indeed, she looked spent. "Somehow the—Tories have discovered His—Excellency's presence here. They gathered at my father's house—I overheard them—one o' them——"
She put her hands to her forehead and the others were horrified to see a great black bruise there.
"One of them struck me! They locked me up; but—I escaped—oh, hurry, Your Excellency! They come—the Tories come——"
Then, as one of the young officers sprang forward, poor Miranda fell forward into his arms, unconscious.