The Fall of York Ch. 06-16

"I know little of Pierre except that he had taken to following John around, several months ago."

"And the big lad?" prompted Lawrence.

The maid gave a troubled sigh. "I would not trust him if I were you, sir."

"And they doubtless both have family to take care of. Very well, we cannot make use of these two men. What should we do with the American soldier, Abigail?" Millie was shocked, and not for the first time, that Captain Orr not only consulted his wife but often followed through on her ideas.

Abigail tapped her chin in thought. "I shouldn't like to move him, he's still very frail and may be for a couple of weeks. We cannot just abandon him, though. Perhaps on our way out of town we can tell a neighbour who is not antagonistic to the invaders that he lies upstairs?"

"No, I would not trust Misters Pauley or Jameson with the knowledge that we were leaving York. My capture would do much to buy the favour of the Americans. We cannot tell anyone where he is or we risk ourselves."

"We cannot leave him to die, husband," chided Abigail.

"I have no intention of leaving him to die after I worked so hard to save him from drowning, wife." Lawrence placed his hand over Abigail's. "Perhaps you two can seek sanctuary with the Reverend while I surrender myself to an American officer?"

"If you think I will let you walk into the lion's den..." began Abigail.

"It was just an idle thought, my dear. It looks like we are imprisoned here unless the Americans leave. I don't think that is very likely," he added in a melancholy voice.

"So, we stay. We conceal what we have. We shoo the two militiamen away to their families," announced the mistress of the house. "Millie, have you nowhere else to go? I'm concerned that you may get caught up in events here."

Millie raised her head and looked into her employers' faces. "I have nowhere else to go, ma'am, and no family. The two of you have been like parents to me, even if I am just your hired help." The maid's eyes moistened and she held back a sob. "Please don't send me away from here."

12

Lawrence followed Millie up to the second floor as she brought the two militiamen their breakfast. She was full of trepidation over seeing John once more, but felt confident that he would soon be out of her life. Captain Orr's presence lent her strength, despite the fact that he was clearly exhausted and aching.

The two men were sitting up in the hallway and talking quietly when the maid brought them their meal. She made sure to pass a plate to Pierre first, and she gave him a brief smile. John received his serving accompanied by a cold stare.

"No smile for me, Millie?" asked the larger man.

The young woman did not respond; she merely glanced at her master who raised an eyebrow but did not question or chastise her. Then she proceeded to the American's room. John and Pierre watched her go, forgetting the presence of their host.

Lawrence cleared his throat once the maid had closed the door behind herself. "So, what are your plans gentlemen?"

The two turned to him in surprise. "Are you planning on running off after Sheaffe, Captain?" asked John in a surly tone.

Lawrence ignored John's rudeness in consideration of recent events. "I had hoped to evacuate Mrs. Orr and our servant to Kingston, but I don't think that's possible any more. Do you both have family in York?"

Pierre looked at John, allowing Lawrence to easily deduce who led this pair. "Well, perhaps we should stay and help you, sir. We both have family but they should be safe enough. You have two women to protect and a prisoner to guard," John pointed out.

Lawrence frowned, instinctively realizing that the man had another, hidden, motive for staying. Could John and Pierre have Yankee sympathies and be waiting to turn him over to the invaders, he wondered?

"Mrs. Orr has been very good at stocking the larder, so when you do leave we can give you some food for your families. Otherwise, we'll just be hiding and biding our time. Hopefully the Americans keep poor guard over York, or for some reason decide to leave soon. It's unlikely we'll be doing any fighting." Lawrence rubbed his unshaven face. "We'll find you better sleeping arrangements. For now, keep out of sight as much as possible."

"Yes, sir," echoed the two men.

13

Millie closed the door behind her and breathed a sigh of relief. Being around John, in fact doing anything for John, made her skin crawl. She could hear the three men in the hall begin to talk and, recognizing it as no business of hers, she promptly ignored it.

Looking about the room, she saw all was as it had been left the previous night. The American hadn't rifled through any of the drawers in the dresser, nor had he pilfered the contents of the wardrobe. He still lay on his back in the same pose that they had left him. And he looked very still, perhaps too still.

The thought occurred to her that the poor man had died during the night. Mrs. Orr had seemed to think he was going to live despite his injuries, but as smart as she was she was no doctor.

Millie stepped up to the side of the bed and stared at the young man. He was very pale and serene. She leaned over and listened at his mouth for a breath. Hearing nothing, she put her head on his chest and listened. There was the faint sound of a heartbeat.

She smiled, stood and then brushed a few wayward strands of brown hair from his forehead. Captain Orr had been so earnest in his desire to save this American that she wanted him to live, despite the fact that the young man was one of those who had attacked her town. The maid was not stupid and was not critical of her master's decision; she realized it stemmed from his charitable, Christian nature.

Was this young man ever going to awaken, she wondered? She had heard stories of people going to sleep and never awakening. Mrs. Orr had instructed her husband, and Millie, to check on the prisoner and wake him if possible. Millie looked to the door, but she could hear that the men were still engaged in their discussion.

She wondered if she should try to awaken the young man alone, but then she recalled stories about Americans that had been whispered as war had drawn closer. Someone had once told her that some Americans were even less civilized than the Indians, although she had met too few Indians to compare this man to. When he awoke, would he leap from his bed and try to kill her? To her eye, he didn't have the countenance of a wild-man or a cold-blooded killer. He hadn't shaved for a few days, but otherwise looked no different from many of the young men in York. He didn't look especially dangerous and she found that she had to remind herself that this invader would have shot and killed Captain Orr, if he'd been given the chance on the battlefield.

The maid decided on discretion and kept herself busy straightening up the sheets. Her hand brushed against the young man's and his fingers closed like a trap. Millie gasped in shock and tried to pry her fingers away from his, but even weakened as he was he held her too strongly. Just as she was about to call for help, Captain Orr walked in. He came quickly to the bed and freed her from the American's grasp. The maid slipped behind her master and kept a fearful watch on the young man in the bed.

"Easy. Easy there, son." Millie was surprised that the Captain's first concern was toward his prisoner and not her.

"Where am I?" asked the American, in English to Millie's continuing surprise. He didn't speak like a savage, she thought.

The Captain put his hand over the American's. "You're in my home. I pulled you from the river before you could drown. Have you any recollection of that happening?"

The American's eyes passed from Lawrence, to Millie and then back to Lawrence again. "Yes...I think so. You're British?"

Captain Orr smiled. "Yes. And you, sir, are my prisoner. Although I must tell you that American forces have proven victorious and the day is yours. I am Captain Lawrence Orr and I find myself trapped in York with my wife and our maid. I don't intend to harm you. I brought you here because my wife can take care of you better than any doctor that I've ever seen."

The American chuckled and then coughed weakly. His eyes returned to the Captain's face, but opened wider when he saw that his captor had spoken in earnest.

"Are you ready for breakfast?" asked Lawrence.

"Yes, sir."

"Then Millie will go downstairs and return with some food for you. I ask you to stay in your bed and not try to escape. There are two York Militiamen outside of your door and they are in much better condition than you are, young man. Will you promise not to harm anyone in this house?"

"I promise, sir." The American glanced at Millie and briefly studied her face, while her cheeks reddened.

"Ah," said Lawrence, following the glance, "you're hungry. Millie, please inform Mrs. Orr that our guest is awake and in need of breakfast."

The maid curtsied and left the room, without closing the door behind her. Lawrence watched with irritation as John briefly blocked the maid's passage, glanced into the room at the Captain and then stepped out of her way.

"So, young man, we have some things to talk about," stated Captain Orr, turning back to the American.

14

The rest of the day was spent in watching for American patrols, of which there were plenty. Wednesday was usually washing day for Abigail and Millie, but instead of setting out early they waited until a fair number of other women were collecting on the road outside and then joined the group.

Lawrence bided his time marking down the details on any patrols that he observed, while keeping himself concealed behind a curtain. The Americans were woefully irregular and he noticed that patrols sometimes stopped in front of the larger homes. He saw very few officers among the patrols and he wondered how such a disorganized army had been able to claim even this one victory. These two observations made him uneasy.

The two militiamen preferred to keep watch on the prisoner and neither had shown any inclination to return to their families. While their loyalty to a superior officer was admirable, he still doubted that was the only reason for their remaining in his home. John's interaction with Millie concerned the Captain. He would have to find time to have a serious talk with the young man, he thought.

The women returned late in the afternoon, easing Lawrence's mind somewhat. Millie seemed to be bursting with news, but was diplomatically keeping her tongue. Abigail and the maid hung the wash to dry in the April breeze and then came into the house.

"And how are you doing, husband?" asked Abigail, with a knowing smirk.

"Oh, I'm quite well, wife. I can tell from Millie's fidgeting that you two have news. Are you planning to make me tease it out of you slowly?"

"I'll let Millie tell you while I check on Jacob. Have there been any problems?"

"I'll let you tease that out of me slowly, dear," and he grinned back at his wife. She gave him a friendly frown and then went upstairs to check on the American. Lawrence motioned for Millie to tell her tale.

"Well, Captain Orr, the Americans have collected all the militia up and put them in a warehouse and refused to give them food or water. One of the ladies said she could hear the injured calling for help from within."

"I would have expected the aggressors to be better equipped for dealing with their prisoners," he interrupted, "but then this army appears to be quite disorganized."

"The Reverend John Strachan is all in a dither! He has been accosting the Americans, demanding to work out the terms for surrendering York and freeing the militia. But, none will deal with him. Mrs. Orr said it is almost as if the Americans weren't really expecting to win. Some of the ladies were very vocal that things would improve greatly now that we have liberty in York."

Lawrence snorted. "Liberty is fine, but there is a fine line between it and anarchy. Britain gives us order and law. I have seen no evidence that makes me wish to embrace the lifestyle that the Americans brag on about."

The maid pouted slightly. "Mrs. Orr said much the same thing. Some of the ladies tried to shake her resolution while others sided with the mistress."

"But you have thoughts on the matter as well, don't you Millie?"

"I would not be thought a traitor, sir."

"I think no ill of someone who likes the American view, just as I'd think no ill of someone who wanted to plant their garden in January. It's foolishness, but I won't think you a bad person simply because you think the American version of liberty is good. Please speak your mind, Millie," he urged, gently.

"Well, sir," she began, staring at the floor, "if I marry then I'll marry another servant, someone of equal station. If I were an American woman then I might hope to marry a land-owner or a man who might soon own land."

"Do you have a suitor in mind?"

"No, sir!" Millie's face went red as she stared at Lawrence in embarrassment.

"You're pretty enough that you could attract a proposal from a farmer or a craftsman. Certainly my wife has been teaching you the skills you need to be a good wife. You do know that she's been teaching you more skills than a maid requires, don't you?"

Millie put a hand to her face. "I thought the two of you thought of me as simply a maid..."

"You are a maid, Millie, but my wife found you bereft of skills and has been teaching you what you need to know to survive and thrive." Lawrence stood up and walked over to a book shelf. "You see these books here? I purchased these at Abigail's request. They're the type of books that are used to teach literacy. In a few more months she will start teaching you how to read and write."

The maid simply didn't know what to say.

"So, it doesn't matter to you whether we have parliament or liberty here. Abigail and I will do our best to ensure that your life doesn't go back to what it was."

Abigail walked into the room. "So she's told you all the news?"

Lawrence smiled sheepishly. "Actually, we went a little off topic. Why don't you fill me in while Millie does her chores?"

The maid silently curtsied and left the room, deep in thought about what the future might now hold for her.

15

Millie hesitated at the top of the stairs when she realized John was alone in the hallway.

"Where's Pierre?" she asked, eyeing the door to the American's room.

"Guarding the prisoner," came the reply.

"I have to see to the American," she explained as she approached.

"Pierre's keeping an eye on him. I already told you that, Millie." John pushed himself from the wall and turned to face her, blocking her progress down the hall. "You know, you haven't been very friendly. Didn't I try to look after you when you were down on your luck?"

She shivered. "I have work to do, John."

He placed a hand on her shoulder, holding her in place. "I'm going to inherit the smithy one day. There are a lot of girls who'd enjoy a tumble in the hay with a man with my prospects. If you don't take advantage of the fact that I'm stuck here for the time being, you'll regret it for the rest of your life. What kind of future do you have as a maid? How long before the Orrs hear some of the tales about you and throw you out of their house?" he asked, leaning close to her.

"I have done nothing to be ashamed of and I have work to do, John," she repeated.

His mouth was inches from her cheek. "We could slip into that bedroom there. Your master and mistress are busy downstairs and Pierre is busy with the prisoner. We have some time, and afterwards..."

She stepped away from him. "I have work to do, John."

A frown crossed his face and then disappeared. "I understand: you want to make me work for it. Well, remember that I have status and money and you have neither. All it would take to cast you back out on the street would be a few idle words spoken in front of your employers." He smirked and then leaned his back against the wall again.

Millie kept a wary eye on John as she walked past him. His smirk widened at her show of fear. She went into the American's room.

16

Pierre was seated on a chair and facing the bed. He was dozing. The American glanced at Millie as she closed the door behind herself and then returned his gaze to the militiaman.

"Pierre. Pierre? Pierre!"

Startled, the Frenchman nearly jumped out of the chair. He spied Millie, yawned and then made himself comfortable again.

"I am sorry, mademoiselle. The prisoner appears to be immobile and John kept talking very late last night."

"That's all right, Pierre. I was told to get rooms ready for yourself and John. You should be able to sleep better tonight."

He opened his mouth as if to speak and then bit his lip.

"What is it, Pierre?" asked Millie.

Leaning forward in his chair, Pierre looked at the American for a second. The American turned his face away from them and stared at the window.

"If I were you, I would stay away from John. He means you no good."

Taken aback, Millie didn't know what to say.

"He is my friend, you understand, but he does not know how to treat women. He will take what he can from you and then cast you aside."

"I thank you for the warning, Pierre." Millie wondered if perhaps Pierre was warning her because he had some interest in her. She couldn't remember what occupation Pierre was engaged in nor did she recall anything about his family.

"De rien," he replied. Then he rose to his feet and stretched. "I will go and see if Captain Orr has anything else for me to do. Maybe I can convince John to come with me." He gave her a smile.

Millie watched him leave and then approached the head of the bed. The American turned to her.

"So, I'm not the only problem guest?" he asked, too inquisitively.

Millie opened her mouth to chide him for eavesdropping and then realized that was the least of his crimes. He had invaded her homeland!

"Merely an unwelcome suitor, sir." She adjusted his sheets, but not gently.

"Captain Orr told me of the situation here." Abigail blushed. "He cannot depart, else he leaves you and his wife in danger and as long as he stays he endangers the two of you. I'm obliged to him for saving my life, even if I am his prisoner."

"He is a good man, sir. Please don't try to harm him or Mrs. Orr," she implored.

The American gave her a curious smile. "Do I really seem like such a threat to any of you? And I did promise no harm to the people of this house."

"You don't appear very dangerous, but you did come to Upper Canada to kill us, or at least you were willing to kill us when you invaded our town."

"We came to free you from tyranny. At least that was what I was told when I volunteered. That seems a long time ago, miss." The American took a deep breath and forced himself to relax. "While I don't feel harshly treated, I would like a friend here. Would you be willing to call me by my Christian name?" he asked quietly.

"Yes...Jacob." The American's name rolled of her tongue more easily than she had thought it would. "Captain Orr told me your name. And you may call me..."

"Millie. Yes, I know. Captain Orr told me your name."

There was a silence that filled the room. "So, in America, you don't have any laws?" she asked tentatively, remembering her master's comments about anarchy.

"What? We have laws. Sometimes we have too many laws. It seems like there's always some government man ready to proclaim new laws. We just ignore the ones we don't really like." Millie was shocked at the idea. Jacob, misunderstanding her response, decided to elaborate. "They passed a law that said you couldn't carry a gun into the town hall. As if anyone was going to fire a gun in the town hall; it's almost like a church! And we obey God's laws as written in the Holy Scriptures, of course."