It was one of those May evenings that promise that summer is close at hand. The air was soft and warm; there was no wind, and in the clear starlight Rebecca could see the shadows of the tall elm tree near the blacksmith shop, and the silvery line of the softly flowing river. As she stood waiting for Lucia she looked up into the clear skies and traced the stars forming the Big Dipper, nearly over her head. Low down in the west Jupiter shone brightly, and the broad band of shimmering stars that formed the Milky Way stretched like a jeweled necklace across the heavens. The little village slept peacefully along the river’s bank; not a light was to be seen in any of the shadowy houses. A chorus of frogs from the marshes sounded shrilly through the quiet. In years to come, when Rebecca heard the first frogs sounding their call to spring, she was to recall that beautiful night when she stole80 out to try and save the town, as she believed, from being fired on by a British gunboat.
She had made so early a start that she had to wait what seemed a very long time for Lucia, who approached so quietly that not until she touched Rebby’s arm did Rebby know of her coming.
“I am late, and I nearly had to give up coming because Mother did not get to sleep,” Lucia explained, as the two girls hurried down to the river. “She is so worried about Father,” continued Lucia; “she says that since the Americans defeated the English at Lexington they may drive them out of Boston as well.”
“Of course they will,” declared Rebecca, surprised that anyone could imagine the righteous cause of America defeated. “And if the English gunboat comes in here the Machias men will capture it,” she added.
“Well, I don’t know,” responded Lucia despondently. “But if it destroyed the town there wouldn’t be anyone left to capture it; and that is why we must push that liberty tree offshore.”
The girls were both strong, and Lucia had brought a sharp knife with which to cut the rope holding the tree to a stake on the bank, so it did81 not take them long to push the tree clear of the shore. They found a long pole near by, and with this they were able to swing the liberty tree out until the current of the river came to their aid and carried it slowly along.
“How slowly it moves,” said Rebecca impatiently, as they stood watching it move steadily downstream.
“But it will be well down the bay before morning,” said Lucia, “and we must get home as quickly as we can. I wish my father could know that there will not be a liberty pole set up in Machias.”
Rebecca stopped short. “No liberty pole, Lucia Horton? Indeed there will be. Why, my father says that all the loyal settlements along the Maine coast are setting up one; and as soon as the old British gunboat is out of sight Machias will put up a liberty tree. Perhaps ’twill even be set up while the gunboat lies in this harbor.”
“Well, come on! We have tried to do what we could to save the town, anyway,” responded Lucia, who began to be sadly puzzled. If a liberty tree was so fine a thing why should her father not wish Machias to have one, she wondered.82 Lucia did not know that her father was even then bargaining with the British in Boston to bring them a cargo of lumber on his next trip from Machias, in return for permission to load the Polly with provisions to sell to the people of the settlement, and that, exactly as Lucia had heard him predict, an armed British gunboat would accompany the sloops Polly and Unity when they should appear in Machias harbor.
The two friends whispered a hasty “good-night,” and each ran in the direction of home. Rebby pushed the big door open noiselessly, but she did not try to replace the bar. As she crept up the stairs she could hear the even breathing of her father and mother, and she slid into bed without waking Anna, and was too sleepy herself to lie long awake.
The unfastened door puzzled Mr. Weston when he came down-stairs at daybreak the next morning. “I was sure I put the bar up,” he thought, but he had no time to think much about trifles that morning, for, as he stood for a moment in the doorway, he saw Paul Foster running toward the house.
“Mr. Weston, sir, the liberty pole is gone,” gasped the boy, out of breath. “The rope that83 held it to the stake was cut,” he continued. “Father says ’tis some Tory’s work.”
Mr. Weston did not stop for breakfast. He told Mrs. Weston that he would come up later on, as soon as he had found out more about the missing liberty tree; and with Paul beside him, now talking eagerly of how his father had gone with him to take a look at the pine sapling and found no trace of it, Mr. Weston hurried toward the shore where a number of men were now gathered.
Anna had hard work to awaken Rebby that morning, and when she came slowly down-stairs she felt cross and tired; but her mother’s first words made her forget everything else.
“We will eat our porridge without your father,” Mrs. Weston said gravely. “A terrible thing has happened. Some traitor has made way with the liberty tree that your father and Paul selected yesterday.”
“Traitor?” gasped Rebby, who knew well that such a word meant the lowest and most to be despised person on earth, and could hardly believe that what she had supposed to be a fine and brave action could be a traitor’s deed.
“Who else but a traitor would make way with84 our liberty pole?” responded Mrs. Weston. “But do not look so frightened, Rebby. Sit up to the table; when your father comes home he will tell us who did the base act. And we may be sure Machias men will deal with him as he deserves.”
But Rebecca could not eat the excellent porridge; and when her mother questioned her anxiously she owned that her head ached, and that she did not feel well.
“I’ll steep up some thoroughwort; a good cup of herb tea will soon send off your headache,” said Mrs. Weston, “and you had best go back to bed. Maybe ’tis because of the birthday cake.”
Rebecca made no response; she was glad to go back to her room, where she buried her face in the pillow, hardly daring to think what would become of her. Supp............