Here Comes a Candle (37 page)

She did not wait for more, but rode quickly toward the group of officers he had indicated, noticing as she passed five
mili
tiamen working desperately at a gun emplacement, one of them in militia blue, two in black jackets, one in a cotton tunic and one, fantastically, in a dress shirt and black patent leather pumps. Mr. Madison
’
s
“
citizens
’
army,
”
lived up to its name.

General Stansbury was in a fury.
“
Colonel Monroe indeed!
”
she hear
d
him exclaim as she rode up.
“
Change all my arrangements, will he? And who does he think he is, pray, the Commander in Chief?
”
He saw her,
“
And now what?
”
Rage sizzled in the hot air around him.

No time for explanations. He was near explosion point
“
I
’
m looking for Jonathan Penrose,
”
she said.

“
Penrose?
”
At least he was beyond surprise.
“
I sent him back to the Navy Yard, first thing, to see what the hell was keeping Winder. You should find him there, ma
’
am, and a much better place for a lady than the battlefield. Yes?
”
He turned away from her to a young officer.

“
Mr. Madison
’
s just coming, sir,
”
said the youth, who could hardly, Kate thought, have been more than seventeen.

“
Madison! That
’
s all I need!
”
He had forgotten about Kate already as he turned away to look across the valley. Despite the heat, the day was extraordinarily clear.
“
Look!
”
he said suddenly.
“
Here they come.
”

Straining her eyes, Kate followed the direction of his pointing hand, and saw, two miles or so beyond Bladensburg, the thin red column appear around a plantation of trees. Englishmen! Trained soldiers; marching, she could see even from here, in impeccable Quickstep. A horrible muddle of feelings convulsed her, so that for a moment the bright light turned black around her. These were professionals, cold-blooded soldiers marching over the hill, men like Fred Croston and his friends. And here, waiting for them, was a rabble of amateurs, a citizens
’
army, men who took time to worry about a lonely girl on a horse. Passionately, incredibly, she wanted them to win, and knew all the time how hopeless it was.

“
The Moore Quickstep,
”
said General Stansbury.
“
I
’
ve always wanted to see that. As for you, ma
’
am, you
’
d best be getting back to town. There
’
ll be
a
battle here before the hour is out. If you
’
re lucky, you should meet Penrose on the way. He reckoned to join Commodore Barney and his sailors if he could.
”

“
Thank you, sir. And—God bless you.
”
Tears blinded her eyes as she wheeled Sampson away toward the Washington road. They might have been for disappointment at this failure to find Jonathan, but were not. They were for the man in the black jacket, the man in the dancing pumps, these men, these individuals, standing here in the hot sunshine, waiting for juggernaut.

Tears heavy in her eyes, she hardly noticed the dusty, gray-faced little man with the huge pair of dueling pistols belted around him who rode past her in the opposite direction. President Madison had come to cheer on his army.

Most of Winder
’
s force must have arrived from Washington at last, Kate thought, finding the road almost deserted now. She stopped a straggler, who carried an immense blunderbuss.

“
Commodore Barney!
”
He surprised her by bursting into a delighted guffaw of laughter.
“
I should just about think I do know where he is. He
’
s right on the road behind me. Law, I laughed so much, I thought I
’
d die. I just wish you could have heered him.
”

“
Why? What happened?
”

He laughed some more before he could manage to tell her.
“
Old Winder forgot all about him. Well, you can understand that, with the panic was on, and Jemmy Madison there at the Navy Yard, and Armstrong, and I don
’
t know who else, all together there talking fit to bust. Council of war, they calls it! In the end they all decides to come here to Bladensburg, seeing as how even a child could a
’
told
‘
em this was where the battle would have to be, and why we weren
’
t ready here last night the dear only knows. So Winder starts off at last, and our Jemmy says he
’
ll follow—spunky little cuss is Jemmy, mind you, when all
’
s said and done. I was looking after his horse, see, or I
’
d a
’
been here sooner. Battle
’
s not started, has it, ma
’
am? I wouldn
’
t want to miss my first battle.
”

“
No, no,
”
she reassured him.
“
The redcoats
h
ave only just come in sight. They must be a couple of miles from the village still.
”
Calling her countrymen
redcoats? What in the world had happened to her?

“
That
’
s all right then.
”
He had time to enjoy his story.
“
Out comes Jemmy to his horse, and up comes old Josh Barney, red as my aunt
’
s petticoat and swearing like my uncle, and asks what the hell he
’
s to do: old Winder
’
s forgotten all about him. And a proper turnout that was: I wish you could a
’
heard his language. To the President of these United States! I tell you, ma
’
am, it
’
s a pleasure I
’
ll remember to my dying day.
‘
Stay and guard the Navy Yard, will I?
’
says Barney.
‘
I
’
ll be
...
’
excuse me, ma
’
am.
‘I’ll
be jiggered,
’
he said,
‘
if I do.
’
So in the end Jemmy gives in and makes Secretary of the Navy Jones say Barney can come here and fight, and they
’
re on their way right now, back along the road a piece, with the guns they saved from their gunboats. And won
’
t that jist be a surprise for the redcoats? What
’
s that? Gunfire, ma
’
am! They
’
ve started! You
’
ll excuse me. I can
’
t
miss
my first battle.
”
And he left her at a sweating trot, the blunderbuss clutched lovingly to his chest.

She was over the brow of the hill now and into the woods. And no time to turn back and see what was happening. Anyway, she was afraid she knew. What chance had these amateurs against men trained under Wellington? No, she must ride on, find Jonathan, get him back to Washington with her. What business had he here, a Federalist, a man of peace, Jonathan...

At all costs she must find him before the battle. Before? What hope of that? Over the hill, the deadly thunder continued, bringing with it a horrible picture of the two American guns she had seen covering the main street of Bladensburg from the hill. The English would not get to the bridge that the Americans had so strangely left standing, let alone across it, without suffering appalling losses. Terrible to think of, worse still to be grateful for the time it gave her.

But there—thank God—were Commodore Barney
’
s men in their smoke-grimed naval uniform, unmistakable
both for this and for their look of order and discipline. Busy manhandling their big guns along the rough road, they took no notice of her as she rode slowly down their line, looking with a kind of desperate hope for Jonathan.

She saw him at last, and swallowed hard as tears—of joy?—of pity?—started to her eyes. He was walking with a party of sailors who had apparently just ended their t
u
rn of duty on the rearmost gun. His gray face, aged surely by years since she had last seen
him,
and his automaton
’
s pace contrasted heartrendingly with the swinging march and bronzed health of his companions.

She pulled up her horse beside them, and called, as loud as she could make herself.
“
Mr. Penrose! Jonathan!
”
He did not hear her, but the man nearest her did, looked at her with amazement, and passed the word along. Jonathan looked up; their eyes met; his whole face changed. Now he was working his way across the line to join her. She had just time to see how ghastly he looked, as if he had neither slept nor eaten for several days, before he was beside her.
“
Kate!
”
His hand, warm
on
hers where they held the reins.
“
You
’
re alive!
”

“
Of course. You always did believe the worst too easily, dear Jonathan.
”
Surely, in this moment, she could allow herself that
“
dear
”
?

“
Dear Kate!
”
His hand gripped hers harder still.
“
But,
”
a
glance over his shoulder,
“
there
’
s no time. Only to say,
‘
Thank God,
’
and, Kate, where
’
s Sarah?
”

“
J
o
n! I don
’
t know. They knocked me out: took her away: wrote you a lying letter. Mr. Hillingford told me. But they
’
re in Washington somewhere. I
’
m sure of that. I hunted all day yesterday—for you, for her. In the end
—
thank God
—
I found Mr.
Hillin
gford.
”

“
In Washington?
”
He was watching the column draw away from them.
“
Oh God, there
’
s no time.
”
He turned her horse
’
s head, so that the two of them could follow behind the guns.
“
No time for anything—maybe it
’
s as well. Kate! When I thought you were dead!
”

She smiled down at him lovingly.
“
Well, I very nearly was.
”
No time for that either.
“
Jonathan, Mr. Hillingford
’
s housekeeper is searching the hotels for them. Only—when we find them, we
’
ll need you. Who else can claim Sarah?
”
She made as if to turn Sampson
’
s head back toward Washington.

“
No.
”
His hand was heavy on hers.
“
I can
’
t, Kate. You must see that. Not even for Sarah. Not even for you. Don
’
t you see, if they
’
re not stopped, they
’
ll be in Washington tonight. And Winder—our army—you never saw anything like it. Barney needs every man he can get. He
’
s my old friend—not that that makes any difference. I couldn
’
t leave him now, were he ten times my enemy. But you
’
ll manage, Kate, you and Hillingford. You
’
ll find her. You
’
ll save her for me. And as for me—don
’
t look like that! I
’
ll fight to live, now I know there
’
s something to live for. And if—if I should be killed, forgive me, Kate, for everything. But
I
won
’
t, not now.
I
’
ll
see you in Washington tonight.
”
And then:
“
My God, what
’
s that?
”