Janice Meredith: A Story of the American RevolutionFord, Paul Leicester
History
Janice Meredith: A Story of the American Revolution
Ford, Paul Leicester
United States -- History -- Revolution, 1775-1783 -- Fiction
Speechless and shamed, the girl hung her head.
"Let go that bridle, ye whelp!" blustered Evatt, throwing
back the flap of his holster and pulling out a heavy horse pistol.
As he made the motion, the bondsman dropped the rein and
seized the hand that held the weapon. For a moment there
was a sharp struggle, in which the third man, who sprang from
the shadow, joined. Nor did Evatt cease resistance until three
men more came running up, when, overborne by numbers, he was
dragged from his horse and held to the ground. In the whole
contest both sides had maintained an almost absolute silence,
as if each had reasons for not waking the villagers.
"Stuff a sod of grass in his mouth to keep him quiet,"
ordered Charles, panting, "and tie him hand and foot." Taking
a lantern from one of the men, he walked back to the speechless
and frightened girl and held the light to her face. "'T is
not possible you--you--oh! I'll never believe it of you."
With pride and mortification struggling for mastery, Janice
replied: "What you think matters not to me."
"You were eloping with this man?"
Though the groom's thoughts were of no moment to the
girl, she replied: "To escape marrying Philemon Hennion."
"What things women are!" he exclaimed contemptuously.
"You deserve no better than to be his doll common, but--"
"We were to be married," cried Janice.
"In the reign of Queen Dick!"
"This very day on the 'Asia' frigate."
"A likely tale," jeered the man. "Bring that fellow down
to the boat," he called, and catching hold of the bridle, he
started walking.
"Whither are you taking me?" inquired Janice, in fright.
"The parson is down by the river, helping transfer the powder,
and I'm going to leave you with him to take back to
Greenwood."
"Oh, Charles," besought the girl, "you'll not be so
cruel! I'd sooner die than--than--Think what mommy--
and dadda--and the whole village--I did n't want to go
with him--but--Please, oh, please! You'll not disgrace
me? I'll promise never to go off with him--indeed--"
"Of that I'll be bound," sneered the servant, with a harsh
laugh, "for I'm going to take him with me to Cambridge."
For a moment Janice was silent, then cried: "If you only
knew how I hate you."
The man laughed bitterly. "I do--from the way I hate--
ay, and despise you!"
Another moment brought them to the edge of a wharf, where
a number of men were busying themselves in stowing barrels on
board a small sloop. "Hold this horse," ordered the servant,
while he joined one of the toilers and drew him apart in
consultation.
"Powder aboard, cap'n," presently called some one.
"Take that man and stow him below decks along with it,"
ordered Charles. "Good-by, parson. I hope to send good
news from Cambridge of this night's work. Boys, take Bagby
out of the stocks before daylight, and tell him if the Invincibles
want their powder to follow us, and they shall have fifty
rounds of it a man, with plenty of fighting to boot. All aboard
that are for the front!"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account