# Dorothy's Spy/Chapter 4

CHAPTER IV
AIDING AN ENEMY
"It frightens you to know that I am a spy," the officer said sadly, after this last outburst of weeping was lessened, "and yet I am as loving a father as yours can be, my young mistress. My children cling to me as his does to him, although were Jacob Dean to stand before them as I appeared to you, doubtless they would be afraid."
"Why did you come here to spy upon us?" Dorothy asked passionately. "Do you not know that this colony is no longer ruled by the king?"
"I know, my child, that the people here have revolted against what appears to me to be their lawful sovereign; but you must realize that while they say one thing, his majesty says another, and I fear there will be much bloodshed and suffering before we learn who is in the right, or, in other words, who is strongest."
"That is no reason why you should come here to distress us by being a spy, sir," and Dorothy stepped out from the fireplace once more, no ​longer feeling any fear of this man who had little girls of his own at home.
"Quite true, my dear. I came because orders had been given to that effect, and, being a soldier, I was bound in duty to obey. Which would you rather, be punished for disobedience to your father, or because, in obeying him, you incurred the displeasure of some other person?"
"I always do as my father commands, sir."
"And therein you are right, my dear little girl. So it is with me. I do as my superior officer commands, and if the obeying leads me to death, my children will have no reason to blush when their father's name is spoken. Now I will go, taking whatsoever chances may be left in this rat-hole of a square where all the exits are guarded. Do not give way to fear because you are alone in the house, for there is nothing to harm you here, more than if your parents were present. The servant will probably return soon; but until he, or your father arrives, it will be well to keep the door locked lest evil disposed men, who have no babies of their own, should enter."
As he spoke Lieutenant Oakman turned toward the door which led into the main hall; but he had not yet crossed the threshold when a tumult of cries and shouts suddenly sounded as if from directly in front of the building.
​"He went in here somewhere, for it is certain there was no chance to get out of the square! Search the houses!"
The officer drew the pistol which he had concealed in his pocket during the conversation with the children, and stood ready for an attack, yet undecided as to what course he should pursue.
"Surely you are not going out, sir, while those wicked men are so near?" Dorothy cried as she laid one small hand on his arm.
"It must be, unless there is a rear door which leads to some other street."
As if to convince the fugitive that there was no way of escape, shouts arose from behind the dwelling, and a voice was heard crying:
"This way, half a dozen of you men! Stand guard here, and see to it that no one is allowed to leave these three buildings. The Britisher is in one of them, and, unless a mistake is made by us, we'll soon smoke him out!"
"It seems that these worthy Americans are not to be caught napping, and I must face them. Better that the end comes in such manner, than at the tail of a rope to amuse the herd of so-called patriots," the officer said half to himself, and was on the point of entering the hall when Dorothy stopped him once more.
"You must not go out, sir. Wait until my ​father comes; he will know what it is best for you to do."
"Ay, my child, he will doubtless know what is best for him to do, and I can well fancy what that may be; but I am going more particularly in order to relieve you from a disagreeable visitor."
"Then you may stay, sir, for Sarah and I are no longer afraid. It is much nicer to have you here in the place of Scip," Dorothy said in the most friendly tone.
"I thank you, young mistress, and I am well pleased to have shown that a British officer, even though he be playing the spy for the time, is not as great a villain as you had supposed. But how can you, the daughter of Jacob Dean, that most violent of Whigs, allow a spy to outwit those children of liberty who are howling for blood?" and Lieutenant Oakman waved his hand toward that point from which the cries and shouts could yet be heard.
"You must not go out while those people are there," and Dorothy felt quite proud because she had succeeded in speaking as her mother would have done.
This satisfaction with herself because she had made the proper reply, was so pleasing that she glanced down at her gown to make certain it was showing to the best advantage, when, for the first ​time, the little maid became aware of the havoc which had been wrought in her personal appearance.
Her face flushed rosy red as she looked first at Sarah and then at such portions of her own garments as could readily be seen, and the officer said with a smile:
"You need make no excuses, young mistress. I am the cause of all that disorder, and surely should be the last to criticise. I have no great desire to venture out of doors while there are so many near at hand to greet me; but I would not plunge you into difficulties with your father, as may be the case if I remain."
"You can at least wait until he comes, sir."
"True, my dear; but are you, who have been celebrating the Declaration of Rights so lately, willing to give aid to one who is bound to render them of no avail?"
Dorothy was perplexed. She was not minded to let this gentleman who spoke so tenderly of his children go out to meet his executioners simply because of what might come to her in the way of trouble; but at the same time, the idea of giving aid to one who represented the king, was not exactly in accordance with the lesson her father had given her that very morning.
Lieutenant Oakman, replacing the pistol in his pocket, watched her narrowly as she turned over ​these matters in her mind, and when her face suddenly brightened, he gravely kissed her tiny hand with as much ceremony as if she, the daughter of a silversmith, had been a queen.
"You are to stay till father comes home, sir. I am certain he would not do anything to your harm, and if he thinks you ought not remain, then will be time enough for you to go."
"You are a brave and a kind little lady, and if it so be that I live to see my darlings once more, they shall know that a certain tiny maid in America saved, for however short a time it may be, the life of their father. And now Mistress Dean, since I am the invited guest of you and your sister, will it please you that I extinguish the candle?"
"This is not my sister, sir," and the girl took her companion by the hand. "This is Sarah Lamb, whose father keeps a shop on Old Slip, and I am Dorothy Dean."
"I am in a nest of patriots without mistake," Lieutenant Oakman muttered to himself, most likely speculating as to whether those Sons of Liberty who claimed these children as daughters, would be as willing to extend hospitality to a British spy. Then in a louder tone he added, "I presume it is Anthony Lamb of whom you speak?"
"Yes, sir," Sarah replied, taking part in the ​conversation for the first time since the intruder had made his appearance. "My father makes mathematical instruments."
"I have heard of him to the effect that there is no stauncher patriot in the city. Now, young ladies, have I your permission to extinguish the candle?"
"Why should you do that, sir?" Dorothy asked curiously.
"Those gentlemen on the outside, who are so eager to lay hands on me, may not try to come into the house if it appears to be deserted, whereas, with such evident signs of occupancy as the glow of this candle through the crevices of the shutters, they would insist on having speech with whomsoever was within."
"Blow it out at once, sir," Dorothy said hastily, as she led Sarah to a seat on the settee which stood conveniently near the fireplace.
During this conversation the tumult outside had been increasing, until the din was so great that only with difficulty could the speakers inside made themselves heard, and, as proof that the searchers were closing in around the building, it was possible to hear very much which they said
The officer and the children listened intently, and understood from the words that the three dwellings in the immediate vicinity were being ​surrounded preparatory to a search of their interiors.
Those who were hunting for the spy had become convinced that, by some means, he had gained an entrance to one or another of the houses, and were determined to leave no opportunity for escape.
If the candle had been lighted the children would have seen on Lieutenant Oakman's face a look of distress, for it must have appeared to him just then that the closing act in the tragedy of which he was the principal actor, was nearly at hand. He had no reason to believe Jacob Dean would aid him, an enemy, even if those on the outside should leave him in peace until the owner of the dwelling arrived, and it was quite certain the house would speedily be searched whether the master was present or absent.
Dorothy was tingling with excitement, and secretly rejoicing because it was now so dark that the soot on her face and clothing could not be seen. She had almost forgotten that this very kindly gentleman who treated her with quite as much respect as if she had been a full-grown lady, was an enemy and a spy; but remembered only that she was doing something toward saving his life.
A tender heart had Mistress Dorothy Dean, and as she thought of the officer's children so far ​away, who might never again see their father unless she could give him all the aid he needed, the tears overflowed her eyelids once more, and she wept because of the sorrow which, possibly, would soon come to them.
Then, so suddenly that the occupants of the living room started in surprise, came a loud knocking at the front door, and the lieutenant had recourse to his pistol once more.
Without waiting to ask advice, Dorothy walked boldly through the hall, Lieutenant Oakman following close behind, but never venturing to give advice, or ask for favors. He was treating her exactly as he would have treated her mother, and the little maid felt exceeding proud.
"Who is there?" Dorothy asked in a loud tone, as she rattled the latch of the door to attract the attention of him who had thus demanded admittance, for the tumult was so great that her voice might not have been heard.
"It's yer ole Scip, honey. Open de door quick, 'fore dis yere crowd gets too near."
"Where have you been?" Dorothy asked, trying to decide what she ought to do, and fearing lest others might try to enter in company with the old darkey.
"I des went out fur ter see what was de rumpus, an' come straight back soon's I got de news. ​Open de door, little Missy, kase dere's a pow'ful fuss 'roun' here!
Just for an instant Dorothy hesitated. She realized that it might not be prudent to trust the old servant with the secret of the spy's whereabouts, for the troublous times in which the little maid lived had caused her to be cautious beyond her years, and then she said in a tone of command:
"Go straight back and find mother. We are locked in here, so no harm can befall us, and she may need you."
It is possible that Scipio might have questioned any other order which involved leaving his young mistress with whose care he had been charged; but to return to the scene of the festivities under a positive command which would absolve him from all blame, was too tempting to be resisted.
"Is yer suah yo' wants me ter go?" he asked as if to soothe his own conscience.
"Of course I am," Dorothy replied sharply. "No harm came to us while you were loitering outside and the door was unfastened, therefore now that it is locked we shall be safe."
"An' yo' ain't a teeny littly bit 'fraid?"
"We are getting on famously, and you may tell mother so, though I hope she will come soon."
"Den I'se gwine."
​The listeners were not certain Scipio had turned away from the door until they heard a voice cry sharply:
"Hold on there, you black man! Whose house is this?"
And from a short distance away Scip's reply could be heard:
"Massa Jacob Dean, de silbersmif."
"Who is inside?"
"De young Missy, an' Sarah Lamb—des two chillun."
"Why didn't you go in?"
"Kase de door was locked. Yo' see dem chillun am 'fraid ter be erlone dese yere terribel times, an' it stands to reason dey don't want strange folks tramplin' in an' out."
"Oh, Jacob Dean wouldn't harbor a spy!" a third voice cried. "There's no use of wastin' our time at this house."
Dorothy drew a long breath of relief as she heard these words, and at the same time fancied that the silent soldier by her side stood more nearly erect, as if a great burden had been lifted from his mind; but the new-born hope was speedily crushed as the first speaker said sharply:
"We shall search all the houses, whether they are owned by Whig or Tory, therefore get back to your post at once. I will attend to these matters."
​"They are coming in here!" Dorothy said in a whisper, her voice trembling as she realized what would happen once the searchers entered the house.
"Yes, my child," was the grave reply. "You might be able to keep the door against them for a short while; but such a mob as that outside would soon force an entrance. The hope of capturing me has deadened for them all fear of possible consequences."
"And what will you do, sir?" Sarah Lamb asked tremulously.
"Go out to meet them before they batter the door down."
"They would kill you."
"That is not a pleasant subject for you, my dear. Don't think of it; but remember that you once did a certain British soldier a great favor by allowing him to remain for a short time in your company."
Dorothy had walked slowly toward the living room while her friend and the spy were thus talking, and, as they did not follow her, she said softly:
"Come in here. Those miserable wretches may be listening at the door."
Mistress Dorothy had completely lost sight of the fact that "those miserable wretches" were called "patriots" by her father, and that but a ​short hour ago she would have condemned absolutely any of her acquaintances who might have held converse with a member of my lord Howe's army.
Lieutenant Oakman followed the children, his hand on Sarah's head as if by touching her hair he was brought nearer his own little ones, and when the three were in the living room again, Dorothy said:
"Think you those men would search the house while my father and mother were away?" and the officer replied thoughtfully:
"They are capable of doing all that; but the fact that Jacob Dean is so prominent in this rebellion, and you two children are here alone, might cause the men to wait until your parents return. If, however, I do not succeed in slipping away secretly, there will be no reason for a search, since the prey will have been taken."
"I wasn't thinking of your trying to get away; but wondering why you couldn't hide up-stairs. In the attic is a wooden chest with a stout lock. Mother kept the winter clothing in it until father bought her one made of camphor wood. Couldn't you lie down in it, and let me turn the key? They surely wouldn't dare to break it while father is away."
"There is a chance that in this particular house I might be hidden in such fashion, for the ​search won't be rigorous," the lieutenant said as if speaking to himself. "But it may be a case of out of the frying-pan into the fire. When your father comes home he will probably insist on sending the provost guard after me," and then, raising his voice, he added, "If I am to be taken alive, little maid, it is more seemly that the arrest be made by soldiers, than by such as make up yonder mob. With your permission, Mistress Dean, I will betake myself to the chest."
Lieutenant Oakman was making a brave effort to speak in a jovial tone that the children might not be yet more alarmed; but the tremor of his voice told that he was not succeeding remarkably well.
"Can you light the candle with the flint and cotton, sir?" Dorothy asked.
"Possibly, after a clumsy fashion; but it is better that we go in the dark, for the light may be seen from the outside, and the question would be asked as to why you went up-stairs."
Dorothy hesitated an instant, not having any great liking for venturing into the attic in the darkness, and then said gravely:
"I will go ahead to show the way. You and Sarah must follow very close behind."
The officer bowed, although, owing to the gloom, the children were not aware of the fact, and little Mistress Dean went to the stairway, ​groping here and there with her hands outstretched.
In silence the three ascended two flights of stairs, after which they were come to the attic filled with such household articles as could no longer be of service to the family, and here several moments were spent before the little maid found that for which she sought.
"Here it is," she said finally, and Lieutenant Oakman passed his hands over it, both outside and inside.
"It will make a famous hiding-place, provided those who search do not take it into their heads to break it open with an ax. Rather close for wholesome breathing, perhaps; but I have a knife with which an air hole can be made when I have nothing else to occupy my attention. Will you kiss me, my little ladies?"
Never before had Dorothy believed she would willingly kiss a British spy; but now she was glad to do so, and, having thus taken a fatherly leave of them, my lord Howe's lieutenant stretched himself out at full length in Mistress Dean's clothing chest.
"I will lock it, sir," Dorothy whispered, "and come to you again as soon as may be."
"If your father should blame you far thus having given aid to an enemy, pray him to come and have speech with me before saying anything ​which would cause you pain," the officer said, holding Dorothy's hand as he spoke lest she should close the lid too soon.
"When I have told him all, he will be glad that you got away from those miserable persons," Dorothy whispered as she shut the prisoner in, and while she was turning the key Lieutenant Oakman said grimly to himself:
"I very much fear that my little maid is making a grievious mistake as to how her father will receive the news that his roof is sheltering a spy, and the chances are that I shall be lodged in the common jail before morning."
Immediately the chest was locked it seemed to the children as if they were entirely alone in the attic, unable to see even each other, and straightway both began to grow alarmed because of the possibilities of the darkness.
"Take hold of my hand," Dorothy whispered, "and we will run as fast as ever we can. I'm afraid I can't light the candle when we are downstairs."
Sarah made no reply; but clutched her friend's hand with a nervous force which told plainly of her fears, and the two descended the stairs more rapidly than was consistent with safety.
Gaining the living room, they halted near the fireplace, breathless and frightened, but listening intently for that which should tell them that the ​men, whose voices could be plainly heard from the outside, were about to make a search of the house.
"Wouldn't it be dreadful if they should take him now?" Dorothy whispered, and Sarah replied hesitatingly:
"Indeed it would; but what will happen to us when it is known that we actually hid in your attic a spy? The other girls won't speak to us, and I'm not certain but that our parents will punish us severely. Do you remember what General Washington's aide read this evening about the king's doings? That he had 'plundered our seas, ravaged our coasts, burnt our towns, and destroyed the lives of our people,' and now we are just the same as helping his majesty in all that terrible wickedness!"
"Would you have given that poor man up to be hanged, Sarah Lamb?" Dorothy asked sternly.
"Of course I wouldn't!"
"Then don't talk as if we had been doing something wrong."
"How can I help it, Dorothy, when I think of what your father and mine will say to us? They are Sons of Liberty, and we, their children, are doing just what they say shouldn't be done."
Little Mistress Dean had thought many times since she began to converse in friendly fashion ​with the spy, as to what her father might say regarding her behavior, and now that the deed was done, now that Scipio had been sent away to the end that she might the more secretly hide an enemy to her country, now that she no longer heard the lieutenant speaking of his children at home, there was the fear in her mind lest she had committed a grievous crime.
The girls were so deeply occupied with painful thoughts that they gave no heed to the darkness; but crouched silently side by side on the settee, until a vigorous pounding at the street door brought them suddenly to their feet, as a rough voice cried:
"Open up here! We're searchin' for a spy, and demand admittance in the name of the United Colonies!"