It taken me most of two hours to reach the crest, although I doubt if it was more than seven or eight miles. By the time I was topping out on the ridge I could hear them coming.
Near the top of the hill was another tavern. There were some wagons about, loaded with household goods. Movers, I suspected. Two men were standing in the road arguing, and from their voices they must be Irish.
They turned when they heard me coming, and I pulled up. “Paddy,” I said, “would y’ be doin’ me a favor, then?”
“It’s a lass, Rory! Would y’ believe it in the night? A lass!”
“There be two men followin’ me, thieves they are, and I just got free of them. I’d not want you to get hurt, but if you could stop them? Hold them up for a bit so I can get away?”
Rory stood straight, as if on dress parade. “I would, ma’am! I shall stop them or know the reason why. Do they come now?”
“Right behind me. Two men in a buggy, and one of them is a fighter, I think.”
“Who’s a fighter?” The other Irish thrust himself forward. “It’s a bit of a fighter I am, too! We’ll stop them, ma’am, an’ go a round or two whilst we wait. We’ll see if he’s a fighter or not!”
“Thank you, sirs! You are gentlemen indeed!”
Now I remembered my father speaking of this place, for all along the mountains the story was told of battles between the settlers and the redcoats several years before the Revolution. Two forts, one at Loudon and another at Bedford, had been taken from the British soldiers, and there had been many a fight with Indians in those days.
Ahead of me was a village called McConnell’s Town, and beyond it another of those steep ridges like the one I’d just come over. The man from whom I had hired the horse had told me I might leave it here at a place called Noble’s Tavern, although whether Noble still kept it, I did not know. The food there was good, he had said, explaining it all very rapidly as he bridled my horse. And the tavern was a stage stop.
Unless the stage had passed me when I had stopped at the cabin, it was still behind, and with luck I could resume my passage.
Tired I was when Noble’s Tavern appeared, and a man came out to take my horse. “You have ridden far,” he said. “I know this horse.”
“I’m to leave him with you. Has the stage come?”
“It hasn’t, but it is due within the hour.” He was a kindly man, and he saw the tiredness of me. “Go inside,” he said. “The missus will put something on for you.”
She was a cheerful lady with red cheeks and a brusque, friendly manner. “Oh, you poor dear!” She pointed. “Go there, you can refresh yourself. When you come out, I shall have breakfast for you.”
The breakfast was good — sausage, eggs, ham, and some applesauce she had made herself. There was no one about, so she sat with me, very curious, as I could see.
“I’ve come a far piece, and I am going to Pittsburgh, but there’s two men coming along after me.” I described them. “They have tried to rob me, although it is little enough that I have. They will be coming along soon.”
“Don’t you worry! We’ll have none of that about here!”
She got up as I was finishing my meal. “Come! You’re dead tired! You come back to my room and lie down for a bit. Bring your things. You rest up, and when the stage comes, I’ll not let them leave without you.”
Alone in her room, I sat down on the bed, opening my carpetbag. Nothing was disturbed and the other Doune pistol was there, and more powder and balls. To be sure, I recharged the pistol, for there might have been dampness in the powder. Then I lay back on the bed and slept.
Dreaming, I was. Dreaming of a tall young man with broad shoulders but no face to him — only my feeling that he was handsome. He was riding a horse and he was looking for me. It was a nice dream and I was sorry to awaken, but it was a voice I heard, a voice beyond the wall.
“Cut my lip, he did. I’ll say that for the bugger. He was game. I put him down three times, and each time he came up swinging.”
It was Timothy Oats speaking, and then I heard the other one, Elmer. “But you whipped him, whipped him good. What I don’t understand is why he challenged you, a stranger.”
Oats’s voice was low and ugly. “You’re a fool! Can’t you see? It was that girl. She put him up to it. Just wait! Wait until I get my hands on her!”
There was a rap on their door. “Come! Come, now, gentlemen! You must be off! We’ve the stage coming in and must serve them who’ve only a minute or two!”
“Have you seen a young girl? On a bay horse?”
“A girl? At this hour? You must be daft! We’ve only just opened the doors! If anybody passed, it must have been in the dark! Be off with you now, we’re busy folk here. We’ve no time for drunken brawlers.”
“Now, see here! I wasn’t drunk! I — ”
“Whatever, we’ve only food enough for the stage, so be off with you now. If it is breakfast you’re wanting, there’s another tavern down the road a bit. No doubt whoever you were looking for would have stopped there, for they show a light the night long.”
Up, I was, and slipping on my boots. When I had bathed my face and arms, with no time for more, I combed out my hair. It was a sight, and I was a sight.
A brush here and a touch there, however, and I felt better and may have looked better. I was straightening my clothes a bit when she came to the door.
“Come! There’s fresh coffee and you can have a bit before the stage comes.” She put a cup and saucer on the red-checked cloth and poured coffee. “There were two men just here, one with his knuckles all skinned and a bad welt on his cheekbone, as well as a split lip. Were they the ones?”
“I heard them talking. It was an Irishman at Loudon who fought him.”
“Ah, that would be Rory! What a lad! And a brawny good lad, too, if he did not nurse the bottle so much! Always ready for a fight, he is, and all for the sport of it. There’s no meanness in him!”
She bustled off and I sipped the coffee, thinking. Timothy Oats and Elmer were somewhere ahead of me, and they would try to catch me. If not on the road, then in Pittsburgh.
It was unlikely they would expect me on the stage, for they would be sure I had gone on ahead of them. I was finishing my coffee when the stage rolled in, but only three people came to eat. Three and the driver.
He looked at me, startled. “You, is it? Well, you’ve still your fare paid to Pittsburgh, so get aboard.” He glanced down at my bag. “Did you get yours back? Or is this the other?”
“It is mine,” I said.
“We’re changing horses, but will be off in a minute.”
Before he could go to the kitchen, where he was headed, I stopped him and explained about the attempt to steal my carpetbag and the two men on the road before us.
“If they hail you,” I pleaded, “do not stop for them. They’ll just be looking to see if I am aboard.”
“Rest easy,” he said. “I’ll be stopping for nothing if I can help it, although it is a slow climb up Sidelong Hill, and a narrow road.”
With so few people traveling, I put my carpetbag on the seat beside me, where I could rest an elbow on it and where my second pistol was close. I opened the neck of my reticule a mite to have an easier grasp on the pistol there.
People got into the stage. I leaned my head back against the seat and closed my eyes. A whip cracked and we went off with a lunge, rumbling over the rough road,, headed for the mountains again.
I was very tired.
10
In Pittsburgh I stopped at the same rooming-and-boarding house as on my way east, and Mrs. O’Brien had a fine large room for me in the old house where she lived. Her maid brought a tub and hot water to my room and I bathed, washed my hair, and meanwhile she did the best she could with my traveling dress. It came back to me looking like new.