Litchfield enquirer., 1876-03-23
WHOLE NO. 2599..

that Thomas had come to warn him of
 danger, and explained that danger. "And
 now" he said. ssthere is much to do. and only to.merrow to accomplish it in, for we must fly to-morrow night"
 And something tells me VIC shall never
 return" said Mrs WentS orth. ''For .
 few hours, John, this pleasant home is
 ours. Whose will it be tomorrow night, when we are fngitives? Let us have one
 more little hour of Happiness here. Come
 down to the bridge" He silently acqui-
 esced, and they went down the narrow
 path together.
 "What are your plans?" she asked. pres ently. -e
 ''f can form but one. that seems feas.
 ible, he replied. .'I don't wish to start
 before tomorrow night. because that ~ill
 enable us to arrive in Portsmouth under
 cover of darkness Tomorrow we must
 make all necessary organizations. On our
 arrival we shall go at once to the fort. to place ourselves under British protection"
 What situation that will bel In your
 own town, under protection, from death, of your country's enemies! Oh, John, the wheel has turned can't tell how I know it, but our brightest days are OVer."
 They had reached the little stone bridge and stood under the black shadow of
 large willow, whose pensile branches
 touched their tips in the water. Out be- yoDd the shadow was the star-it lake and
 the dim outlines of the'opposite shore and hills,
 "I came down here this morning" said I Mrs. Wentworth, "and the shadow seem ed grateful, and the water looked so shal- low and clear that Icould count the yellow stones lying at the bottom. But tonight | ol,n l-- l is as black and fearful as if it were thou sand fathoms deep. I wish we hadn't come. Iwould rather have remembered the pretty spot as it looked in the sum shine. NotV the recollection of it will al.
 ways be gloomy. Why are you so still, John? ?"
 1T was thinking of something that hap pened years and years ago. Some subtle association has recalled It.
 "What is it?'
 Don't you remember that birthday party of Uncle Benning's just before I went to England ?"
 "Yes, well. 1t was my first" Yes. You and were in tLe summer i house, and you made one of the frank speeches for which you were famous in those days"
 II don't remember
 "It was this, and it is singular it should come to me tonight 1t is very queer, John, but like people and handsome gowns and dancing and music erer so much; but all of it together isn't so pleas ant as listening to you ,and being out here in the dark with you in the garden. They were the thoughtless words of 6 child, Frances, but you see I've remem- bered them"
 s'It's as true now. John dear. as it was then" said Mrs. Wentworth. in a tremu- lous voice, as she drew closer to his side. ''All these years have been full of people and dazzle and glitter and sweet sounds, but. dear, if the coming years are all out in the dark, they will be pleasant if you are with me-"
 He stopped down and kissed her, and then said, "Come; the dawn is breaking . l They turned toward the house, and took l up the burden of the first in a long series of weary doubtful days. During the fore | noon nasty verbal invitations were issued to the neighboring farmers and their fam lilies, requesting their presence at the Gov ernor's house early in the evening. News travelled slowly in those days, and the in- habitants of that secluded and remote re- | zion were ignorant of the events which had recently transpired in Massachusetts. | hUOul SuuSCb buCJ hIkANC1S duO tuCu Su0 | Governor explained to them why he had called them together In conclusion he said: ''I must leave you for the present, but, I hope, only for the present When happier times return. hope to return with them" When he had finished, there was hardly a dry eye in. the room, for Governor W entworth had been to these simple, warm-hearted people what the partiaTchs of old were to their family. They went. one by one, to bid him farewell, and not man of them all but felt pang at the parting, what ever his political sentiments were. After r that they went slowly, in little groups, out of his presence, and, as they went, ! turned their backs. all unwittingly, on royalty forever. That night Governor | Wentworth. with his wife aud child, left their pleasant home among the hills. and two days later placed themselves under | British protection at Fort William and Mary. Ten weeks of wearing suspense | followed their arrival. The Governor, be- ing determined. come what might. to be faithful to the crown, calmly awaited the issue of events With Mrs. Wentworth it was different. She was true and devOt- ed wife, but there was not heart more l loyal to American liberty than hers. The,e was something generous in her nature, or tho fact that her cOuntrymen had threat ened her husbands life would have imbit. tered her against her country. Time wore slowly on to July. On the 3d, Washing | ton took command of the army at Cam bridge. On the 11th, Governor Went worth, trusting that the rebellion would be crushed by that time, sent a message from the Fort to the Provincial Assembly adiourning it to the 18th of September. On the evening of the 23d of August, the Governor decided to leave the fort. His wife's health was evidently failing, and if they continued there, might become ser iouSly impaired. On the evening on the 24th. they took passage in the friRate ScGrboroVgh for Boston. As the vessel
 moved slowly away from the fort, guns were fired-tIie last that were ever to be fired in that harbor in Governor Went worths honor, but that he could not know. The night was warm, and the Governor and Mrs. Wentworth remained on deck until late hour. For weeks the political condition of the country had been their sole topic of conversation. To- night their tkIk was party of that, and partlyof their life in Portsmouth before these troubles began. How remote now l seemed those halcyon yearsl As they l talked, tue shores so dear to each reced- ed, and were lost in night and distance. Governor Wentworth remained in Bos- ton some weeks. Then the man who less than ten years before. had made a tri- nmphant entry into Portsmouth, with sv- cry prospect of brilliant career landed on the desolate Isles of Shoals. Water worn rocks surrounded him while above loomed leaden sky, and at his feet roared the waves of the equinox. Here he read a proclamation adjourning the As sembly to the next April. Tins was the hpal act of his administration, and low overhead circled the seagnlls, his most at- tentive auditors, uttering their shrill screams prophetic of storms. A few weeks later, on the deck of an outward bound vessel. holding his little son by the hand. and supporting hIs weeping wife upon his arm, stood John Wentworth, the ] Inrk .c.znl Gnrornnrnf Nau Hannr,slairn