"Heaven's cause and the King's are one," it said. "Go forth, SirWilliam Howe, and trust in Heaven to bring back a Royal Governor intriumph."Subduing, at once, the passion to which he had yielded only inthe faith that it was unwitnessed, Sir William Howe became consciousthat an aged woman, leaning on a gold-headed staff, was standingbetwixt him and the door. It was old Esther Dudley, who had dweltalmost immemorial years in this mansion, until her presence seemedas inseparable from it as the recollections of its history. She wasthe daughter of an ancient and once eminent family, which had falleninto poverty and decay, and left its last descendant no resourcesave the bounty of the King, nor any shelter except within the wallsof the Province House. An office in the household, with merely nominalduties, had been assigned to her as a pretext for the payment of asmall pension, the greater part of which she expended in adorningherself with an antique magnificence of attire. The claims of EstherDudley's gentle blood were acknowledged by all the successiveGovernors; and they treated her with the punctilious courtesy which itwas her foible to demand, not always with success, from a neglectfulworld. The only actual share which she assumed in the business ofthe mansion was to glide through its passages and public chambers,late at night, to see that the servants had dropped no fire from theirflaring torches, nor left embers crackling and blazing on the hearths.
Perhaps it was this invariable custom of walking her rounds in thehush of midnight that caused the superstition of the times to investthe old woman with attributes of awe and mystery; fabling that she hadentered the portal of the Province House, none knew whence, in thetrain of the first Royal Governor, and that it was her fate to dwellthere till the last should have departed. But Sir William Howe, ifhe ever heard this legend, had forgotten it.
"Mistress Dudley, why are you loitering here?" asked he, withsome severity of tone. "It is my pleasure to be the last in thismansion of the King.""Not so, if it please your Excellency," answered thetime-stricken woman. "This roof has sheltered me long. I will not passfrom it until they bear me to the tomb of my forefathers. What othershelter is there for old Esther Dudley, save the Province House or thegrave?""Now Heaven forgive me!" said Sir William Howe to himself. "I wasabout to leave this wretched old creature to starve or beg. Take this,good Mistress Dudley," he added, putting a purse into her hands. "KingGeorge's head on these golden guineas is sterling yet, and willcontinue so, I warrant you, even should the rebels crown JohnHancock their king. That purse will buy a better shelter than theProvince House can now afford.""While the burden of life remains upon me, I will have no othershelter than this roof," persisted Esther Dudley, striking her staffupon the floor with a gesture that expressed immovable resolve. "Andwhen your Excellency returns in triumph, I will totter into theporch to welcome you.""My poor old friend!" answered the British General- and all hismanly and martial pride could no longer restrain a gush of bittertears. "This is an evil hour for you and me. The Province which theKing intrusted to my charge is lost. I go hence in misfortune-perchance in disgrace- to return no more. And you, whose present beingis incorporated with the past- who have seen Governor afterGovernor, in stately pageantry, ascend these steps- whose whole lifehas been an observance of majestic ceremonies, and a worship of theKing- how will you endure the change? Come with us! Bid farewell toa land that has shaken off its allegiance, and live still under aroyal government, at Halifax.""Never, never!" said the pertinacious old dame. "Here will I abide;and King George shall still have one true subject in his disloyalProvince.""Beshrew the old fool!" muttered Sir William Howe, growingimpatient of her obstinacy, and ashamed of the emotion into which hehad been betrayed. "She is the very moral of old-fashionedprejudice, and could exist nowhere but in this musty edifice. Well,then, Mistress Dudley, since you will needs tarry, I give the ProvinceHouse in charge to you. Take this key, and keep it safe untilmyself, or some other Royal Governor, shall demand it of you."Smiling bitterly at himself and her, he took the heavy key of theProvince House, and delivering it into the old lady's hands, drewhis cloak around him for departure. As the General glanced back atEsther Dudley's antique figure, he deemed her well fitted for such acharge, as being so perfect a representative of the decayed past- ofan age gone by, with its manners, opinions, faith and feelings, allfallen into oblivion or scorn- of what had once been a reality, butwas now merely a vision of faded magnificence. Then Sir William Howestrode forth, smiting his clinched hands together, in the fierceanguish of his spirit; and old Esther Dudley was left to keep watch inthe lonely Province House, dwelling there with memory; and if Hopeever seemed to flit around her, still was it Memory in disguise.
The total change of affairs that ensued on the departure of theBritish troops did not drive the venerable lady from her stronghold.
